Dylan O'brian Imagine - Tumblr Posts
Sarcarsm is my only defense
Raindrop romance and puppy dog eyes
Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader
I was at my locker, discussing the upcoming math test with Lydia when I felt a pair of arms wrapping around my waist from behind. “Boo!” I heard my idiotic boyfriend, Stiles, say.
With a grin, I slammed my locker shut and turned around to face him. “Hi baby,” he said, pulling me close in a warm embrace.
“Hey Stilinski, stealing my girl away from me again?” Lydia said, a playful frown on her face as she folded her arms.
"Um, excuse me, since when was she your girl? Did I miss something? Because last night, she was definitely moaning my name," Stiles responded, a smirk playing on his lips.
Lydia scoffed, delivering her response with an attitude, “well, I've known her longer."
"Well, that sucks because I don’t give a shit."
“Okay, guys, that’s enough,” I intervened, teasingly rolling my eyes to end their banter before it could escalate and potentially giving me a headache.
"But, he-" Lydia started, only to be cut off by Stiles. "Me?" He asked in mock shock, causing me to let out a groan.
"Can you both please shut up so I can go home?" I teased, grabbing Stiles by the arm and playfully dragging him out the door.
Once we stepped outside, heavy raindrops were falling. Turning to Stiles with a wide grin, I yelled, "tag!" and dashed toward his jeep.
"Oh, you little bitch! You’re so gonna get it!" He yelled back, chasing after me.
It didn't take him long to catch up, and before I knew it, he was grabbing my waist. "Tag!" He declared, out of breath, hugging me from behind. After a moment, I pushed his arms off of me and took off running. "Nope."
"Oh, you little dick." He yelled, attempting to catch up, but I was already in the car with the door locked before he could.
Reaching the driver's side, he tried to open the door, but frowning when he realized it was locked. He looked up with puppy dog eyes, causing me to return his gaze with a proud smile. “Baby, please open the door,” he whined, pressing his forehead against the glass, and knocking on the window, instantly making me cave in.
As soon as I unlocked the door, he rushed in, slamming it shut before rubbing his hands together in an attempt to get warm. “Can you turn on the heater please?”
fetus stiles 😋🌸
Dylan O'Brien photographed by Aidan Cullen for Interview Magazine
“Oh god” Dylan sobs over me as I lay in a pool of blood. “T-there’s so much blood” he whimpered out through his tears, putting pressure on the wound before pulling himself together slightly.
“I-I need your type” he asks, his voice filled with emotion.
I grunt attempting to speak “5’11, brunet, brown eyes, really cute.” I mange, my eyes closed in pain.
Silence.
I open my eyes to be met with a very shocked and pink-faced Dylan.
“CUT!” Yells the director, rolling his eyes in faux annoyance.
I giggle at Dylan’s reaction. He just groans and drops his head into me. “Y-you can’t just say that..” he mumbles, his breath hot against my neck, clearly still very flustered.
I reach my hand up and thread my fingers through his hair. “What? Can’t handle a little flirting O’Brien?”
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Very much based of that incorrect quote “you’re bleeding what’s your type”