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Happy Ending || Thomas

A/N: quite the opposite of a happy ending. oops. also I tried writing in bigger paragraphs so it didn’t seem so long, but I have a wattpad mindset to break every single paragraph. ugh.

word count: 2,055

WARNINGS: small mention of death (there isn’t a scene or anything). waterwork central. i teared up multiple times writing this.

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Words couldn’t even express his emotions.

When he woke up, he was confused. He was scared, he was worried. Had WCKD caught up to them? Where was he?

Stepping out of the cloth tent, he instantly reached to shield his eyes from the beaming rays of the sun, his sight not yet used to the brightness. The people of the Safe Haven paused their actions as Thomas stumbled through, watching in awe at the fact that they were a few metres from their savior.

He ignored the looks he was receiving, but instead let his own eyes wander about, looking at the sturdy construction of the huts that looked as though they’ve been built months ago, as well as the plantations that were distanced a few feet away from one another.

Was this it?

The Safe Haven, was he actually here?

Thomas pointed his gaze to the sea, feeling his body wash over with serenity as he watched the warm sun slowly hide behind the ocean. As he did this, he failed to notice someone walking in his direction after noticing his arrival.

The thuds of feet didn’t pull Thomas’ eyes away from the view of the waves, but rather the string of curses that came from the mouth of the Brit.

A hand clapped down on his shoulder eagerly, rocking Thomas’ body causing the brunette to snap his head in that very direction. “Hey there, Greenie.” Newt gave him a nod, a light sparkling in his beady eyes. Thomas couldn’t believe it, he was staring right at his best friend, who had died right in front of him. Newt acknowledged his stunned expression, a snort escaping him. “If Gally can do it, I should be able to as well.” He reasoned, making a ghost of a smile appear on Thomas.

But just as quick as it appeared, it vanished. His whiskey eyes filled to the brim with tears as he turned to his first friend, grabbing onto his shoulder tightly before pulling Newt into the tightest hug he could muster. “I’m sorry,” Thomas mumbled, his eyes clenching shut as he attempted to swallow the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” He finally admitted, sniffling before pulling away to look into a pair of sincere eyes.

Newt simply shook his head, squeezing Thomas’ shoulder. “That’s just it. You did save me. You saved us.” He reassured, turning Thomas back into the direction of the bottom of the hill where he could see all of his fellow survivors. “You saved all of us. We wouldn’t be here without you, Tommy.”

Thomas slowly looked away from the camp, turning back to Newt, with even more questions. “But.. h-how? When I left.. when I left you, you were-” His voice could barely go above a whisper, afraid that if he raised his voice in the slightest, this would just disappear from his vision.

It was Newt’s turn to become hesitant, glancing down at his boots before returning back to Thomas. “Y/N.” He stated eventually, and the dark haired boy perked up immediately at the sound of your name, his body flooding with concern and worry as he realized you were not at his side or Newt’s. “She found me, after going with Minho to get the serum.” Newt paused, his eyes glazing over as he observed the crashing of the waves on the shore.

Thomas took note of his sudden change of mood, which only caused his concern and worry for the girl to increase. “Newt,” His voice was weary, but there was warning in his tone as he watched his blonde friend clam up just speaking about you. Releasing a slow breath, Newt eyed him, keeping eye contact to a minimum. “She uh, she got me back to Minho.. and then she-” It shocked Thomas to see Newt choke on his own sob, and the sinking feeling in his stomach let him know that Newt’s words were not going to end the way either of them wanted it to.

“I’m sorry, Tommy. She didn’t make it.”

In an instant, Thomas’ heart was in his stomach. The boy gapped at him, tears rolling down his flushed cheeks as he frantically searched Newt’s saddened gaze in hopes of finding a hint of amusement — Thomas hoped this was some sort of sick joke to wake up to, and that you would pop up with that beaming smile that always seemed to make his day a little lighter.

He swiftly turned his body in the direction of camp, his hazel eyes squinting as he made out as many faces as he could see from on top of the hill he was perched on. He barely had time to realize his own rapid breathing before Newt stepped closer to him, resting his hand on his shoulder once again. “She’s not here.” His words were soft, and careful. He didn’t want anymore damage to be done.

It was all too real. It was too real, and too soon.

Thomas let himself break, a ear piercing shout leaving his pink lips as he buried his face into Newt’s shoulder. The blonde boy didn’t jump like the campers did, he knew what was coming, and he also knew that the only thing he could do was hold his best friend while his heart broke for Y/N.

The broken babbles that Thomas spoke were too slurred to comprehend, and his mind was a prison — it was torture.

You was supposed to be here. If anybody deserved to have this happy ending, it was Y/N. He promised you that he would give you this happy ending, no matter what it takes.

“Tommy?”

Your voice was light, barely above a whisper as you caught the attention of the boy, his whiskey colored eyes on you immediately as you kept yours locked with the twinkling stars.

The pair of you were in the middle of the Glade, laying on the ground and watching the stars away from your friends who were sleeping in your makeshift beds. Sound was easily picked up on, so you both did your best to keep your volume low to avoid getting caught by Alby.

“Yeah?” He mumbled, his eyes trailing over the side of your face, memorizing them. Thomas didn’t turn away when you shifted your head to the side, catching gazes with him and staring at each other.

It was silent for a few moments, the two of you laying side by side comfortably and admiring each other’s features. “Where do you think we’d be, you know, in another life?”

The question left Thomas pondering, not having an answer of his own. He raised his eyebrows, silently signaling you to keep talking. You took the hint, rolling onto your side and resting the side of your head in your hand, your elbow keeping you propped up, offering him a soft smile.

“Well, in another life, we wouldn’t be in the maze.” You giggled, a sound that Thomas found himself melting at. His lips curled up in a smile as you spoke, listening intently. “I don’t know,” You shrugged lightly, glancing down at the blades of grass you were fumbling with before locking eyes with Thomas’ hazel ones.

“I guess in another life, we’d be together.” You whispered shyly, a strawberry blush coating your cheeks. “Me and you, all of us. We’d be with everyone in here, and we’d have a life better than the ones we had before we were put in here.” Your bottom lip found its way to your teeth, and you chewed on it as you thought of your next few words. “We’d have a happy ending.”

Your eyes were on the blades of grass now, avoiding Thomas’ stares at all costs. He noticed this, grabbing your hands in his and pulling you both up into a sitting position, his fingers laced with yours.

“You, more than anyone, deserve a happy ending.” He whispered to you sincerely, the pads of his thumbs rubbing over your knuckles. “You’ve been in the maze for three years. I’ve been here for almost a week, and it’s not ideal.” He tried to joke, smiling proudly when he was able to pull a small laugh out of you.

Your laughter died down and Thomas was staring at you in a way that was unfamiliar to you. Suddenly the feeling of him rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles shot a feeling straight to the pit of your stomach. Your cheeks flushed, and you began to grow flustered at Thomas’ gaze on you, but still, you didn’t want it to stop.

“You will have your happy ending, Y/N.” He insisted, tone even, yet assuring. “No matter what it takes, even if it’s the last thing I do. I will give you your happy ending.”

Thomas let out a yelp of surprise, followed by a small ‘oomf’ when you crashed your body into his, hugging onto him tightly. You buried your face into the crook of his neck as your arms wrapped around him. His body shook with laughter at the sudden action of affection you gave him, but held you close to him regardless.

“Thank you, Tommy.”

Thomas finally lifted his head from Newt’s shoulder, his wrist coming up to wipe at his bloodshot eyes. He didn’t dare meet the blonde boy’s stare, instead he looked out at the setting sun.

“This was it, Newt.” He broke the silence, shaking his head almost as if he were disappointed in himself. “This was her happy ending. Y/N’s happy ending, and she’s not even here to see it.”

Thomas was angry. He was angry at himself for keeping a promise to you that he couldn’t keep, for being here and instead of you. It didn’t feel right to him to live on paradise without you by his side. A sound of disbelief resonated from Newt, his arms crossed over his chest as he glanced over at the brunette. “‘Any ending where he’s happy, is a happy ending for me.’”

Thomas turned to look at the Brit, his eyebrows furrowed to match his perplexed stare. “What?” He was confused to say the least, unknowing of the quote Newt said out of the blue.

“It’s what she said to me before she,” He paused, gesturing with his hand before it slipped back into his armpit. “You know. I didn’t get it until now.” He spoke with a fond smile on his face, and a distant look in his eyes. “She loved you, you know.”

Once again, the feeling of Thomas’ heart in his stomach returned, simultaneously breaking. “I know.” The words were blunt, and it hurt him to say it. Newt’s bushy brows rose at the confession, a low hum emitting from his chest. “And you loved her.”

The statement now made Thomas sigh, giving him a reluctant nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“Okay. So don’t be a twat and spend the rest of your life here on this beautiful island in agony because of this. It’s okay to grief, it’s okay to mourn, Tommy.” With every word that came from Newt’s mouth, he inched closer to Thomas until his arm was wrapped around his shoulders in a side hug. “But live the life you’re deserving of. And if you can’t do it for you, do it for her. Live your life for Y/N.”

The last few words of Newt’s small speech really struck a cord with Thomas.

So as he stood in front of the large boulder full of carved names, he clutched the metal carving tools in his shaking hands.

“You can do it, Thomas.” Minho’s voice piped up from behind him, followed by a few other encouraging words from Newt, Teresa, Gally, Frypan, and Brenda.

He let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, and began to carve out your name underneath the chubby boy with the rosy cheeks you took under your wing when he had first arrived in the box before Thomas.

His heart was broken, in need of mending, in need of you. He was finally free of needles, free of cranks, free of walls. Free of WCKD.

Thomas was finally home, but deep down, he knew that home would never be home without you here with him.

Night Light || Stuart Twombly

A/N: I was thinking of a cute college fic + cuddling and thought of bby stuart. posting it now because I was too excited to wait!!

word count: 1,658

WARNINGS: cursing and sleepy twombly feels.

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“You look pretty pooped, Stewie. You okay?”

Billy’s voice spoke out in the midst of your Google team chattering about the next challenge, making all sound cease and eyes look over to a certain grouchy brunette with a beanie covering the top of his face.

You stifled a laugh at the sight of him, his head leaning back against the top of his swirly chair with his arms crossed over his chest. Stuart groaned in annoyance at the undesired nickname given to him by the older man, but didn’t bother to correct him as he pulled the beanie away from his glasses and adjusting it on his curls.

“No. No, I’m not okay.” He snapped, causing the group of adults to raise a brow at him. “I haven’t been able to sleep because of a certain dumbass.” Stuart’s gaze was now in front of him, on you, an angered look in his slitted eyes. You scoffed at his words, mimicking his figure and crossing your arms over your chest, shrugging as you sneered. “Listen here, asshole, it’s not my fault you can’t sleep at night.”

The pair of you were too engulfed in your heated argument to notice Billy let out a low whistle while stepping forward. “Hey, guys, why don’t we calm it down a little bi-”

“You sleep with the god damn light on! How am I supposed to get any sleep when it’s as bright as the sun in the room?!”

You laughed falsely, giving him the biggest, sickly sweet smile you could. “If it’s such an issue for you, Twombly, why don’t you go to Chetty and get a room switch?”

The brunette snorted, his hazel eyes rolling behind his glasses. “I shouldn’t have to! You’re 21 years old, Y/N, you don’t need a night light!”

You opened your mouth to retaliate, but was cut short by Neha’s outburst. “That’s enough!” She shouted, jumping up from her seat and turning to you. “Y/N, you know I love you, but we don’t give a shit about your guy’s sleeping issues. We need to focus on this challenge, we’re seriously behind.”

You pursed your lips, cheeks flushing in embarrassment when realizing she was absolutely right and arguing with Stuart was just wasting time. You nodded your head, silently surrendering while looking over at the beanie wearing brunette to see him doing the same. A sigh made it’s way past your lips as Nick stepped forward, wrapping his arm around Yo-Yo with a face full of optimism. “Alright, nooglers, let’s nail this challenge!”

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Your feet dragged along the carpeted floor of the Google building’s hallway, making your way past the numerous identical doors in the dorm hall. Not too far behind you was Stuart, and it didn’t take a brain to figure out that he was involved in his phone.

Not too long ago, the team had just finished the challenge assigned to them... and failed, once again. The thought of the defeated brought a slouch to your posture and a frown on your face, so you decided to focus on your exhaustion rather than your defeat for the night. As you waited in front of the door, you let out a squeak of surprise when Stuart crashed into you, knocking you into your dorm’s door. He gasped, dropping his phone onto the ground, before looking up at you with bulging eyes. “What the hell are you doing just standing there?”

You stared at him with astonishment, a dry chuckle rumbling from your chest as you shook your head at him. “You’re saying that like you weren’t the one that bumped into me.” Pointing your finger into Stuart’s chest, his eyes flickered between your finger and your face with a small smirk. “I’m waiting out here because you have the dorm key, doofus.”

Pushing past you, Stuart grabbed the dorm key from his back pocket. “They gave us two for a reason.” The brunette mumbled as he unlocked the door, walking through it first and switching on the overhead light. “Well I left mine,” you paused, walking through the dorm room and shutting it, picking up an identical key card from the counter by the door. “Inside.”

You watched as Stuart pulled the navy blue beanie from his head, revealing the tousled curls that you only saw in the late evening. He ignored your presence as you moved around the room, leaning against the headboard of his bed and tapping away at his phone while you gathered your things for a shower. Your shower was quick, knowing that if you took too long in the bathroom while Stuart was tired he would shut off the light before you even came out.

When you did exit the bathroom, your eyes darted to where you thought the hazel eyed boy was, only to find him by the light switch. Your eyes widened in realization, taking a step towards your bed. “Stuart, no.”

“Y/N, yes.” He mocked you, a smug smirk on his pink lips while he placed the light switch between his index and thumb. “I’m fucking exhausted, and you keeping the light on is only going to make it worse for me tomorrow. I’m turning it off.”

“No!” You panicked , a deep frown settling on your features as you watched his grin grow wider. “I can’t sleep like that.” You mumbled, feeling your neck and face grow hot with embarrassment under his teasing eyes. Stuart raised his brows, nodding slowly with that same smug look. “You mean like this?” He asked, fingers dragging the light switch down and making the room go dark. You let out a piercing shriek, catapulting yourself onto your bed.

As embarrassing as it was, you were afraid of the dark. Always have been.

You brought your knees to your chest, frantically searching for any sight of the brunette in the dark. “Turn it back on, Twombly! I’m serious!” Your voice stammered, resulting in Stuart to groan before flicking the light back on.

“Y/N!” Stuart whined, throwing his head back. “I can’t sleep with this light on. You have been sleeping with it on for the past few weeks! Just for tonight?” He proposed, sighing loudly when you simply shook your head at his offer.

You observed him silently while he bit the inside of his cheek, glancing over at his empty bed that was across from yours, to the light switch, before settling his gaze back on you.

The boy sighed, stepping away from the light slightly which made you relax. “Don’t scream, or do anything stupid.” He demanded, pulling his glasses off his face and giving you a better view of his whiskey colored eyes. Your brows furrowed in confusion, but soon your body tensed when his fingers were back on the light switch.

A whimper escaped your mouth when the room went dark once again, and you quickly shuffled underneath the covers. The bed creaked slightly from your actions, but you didn’t care. It was quite for a few moments, nothing heard but the slow shuffling in the room that you could only rule out to be Stuart.

There was a sudden thudding noise, followed by a larger one. “Oh fuck, damn it!” His hushed voice grunted, which you let out a laugh at. “You okay, Twombly?” You asked into the dark, your eyes roaming around what looked like a dark empty space, feeling your heart race a little faster.

“I’m fine.”

His voice was a lot closer now, but still as soft as a whisper. You swallowed thickly, nodding your head even though he couldn’t see you. There were a few more moments of silence, the only thing being heard was both of your breathing. Although you could hear Stuart’s breathing perfectly fine, you knew he was close because you could faintly feel it on your face.

Your bed began to creak once again, but it wasn’t from your shuffling, it was from Stuart’s. Quickly moving as close to the wall as you could, you made enough room for him to lay down as he hesitantly made his way into your bed.

“Stuart?”

“Yeah?”

“What’re you doing?”

It was silent again, you could hear his breathing as well as feel it on your face. His breath smelled like a faint mint, not overpowering like he had swallowed multiple mints. You waited patiently for his response, not commenting on the fact that you could hear him swallow because of your close proximity.

“I thought that, uh, I would sleep with you so that you aren’t as scared with the lights off.” He murmured, and you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up for the third time today. Your silence, fortunately, egged him on his reasoning. “You’re scared of the dark, so if you knew that I was here and in the dark with you, you wouldn’t be so scared anymore.”

His voice was quiet, and sincere. You felt your heart swell at his actual kind words, a smile growing onto your lips to compliment your rosy cheeks. Thankful that it actually was dark, you didn’t want Stuart to see you in such a flustered manner.

You took the next step, shuffling closer to him under the covers and wrapping your arms around his torso, curling up into his chest. In this position, you could hear Stuart’s heart thudding at a quicker pace than average, and the grin on your face only grew because it matched your own.

“You don’t have to do this, Twombly. Thank you.”

Your whispers made his chest rumble with a short laugh, his arms cautiously wrapping around your waist.

“Yeah, well,” the grip the brunette had on your figure tightened slightly, his hand brushing against your back. “Just shut up and deal with it.”

That was the first night you slept in the dark, and the first night Stuart slept at all, since you met.

And boy, did it feel good.

End of the Line [ 2 ] || Stiles Stilinski

A/N: part two is here! there isn’t much stiles present in this until the end because.. he’s erased.. rip.. but I hope you read it still! STYDIA turned STILESxREADER. Some other scenes are changed around too. italicized text are memories.

word count: 8,239

WARNINGS: lots of angst and tears! but your heart will be mended at the end.

Inspired by this song and this song. Highly recommended you listen on repeat while reading!

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ [ Part One ]

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You couldn’t tell if the reason the aching was due to your heart cracking in two or not, but you didn’t give it much thought as tears rolled down your cheeks. As you stood in front of the pack, your eyes darted over each one of their solemn faces that stared back at you. Your mouth was agape, opening and closing like a fish out of water as you tried to form a sentence. But you couldn’t, your body was frozen in place as you tried to process the utter betrayal of your friends.

‘Stiles can’t be her son.’

Lydia’s voice echoed through your ears, the words tumbling from her lips in defeat. You refused to believe them, though. From the night you woke up gasping for breath, the name ‘Stiles’ being the only thing you said, you refused to believe that he wasn’t real.

“We-” You stammered, bottom lip quivering as you locked gazes with the leader of the pack. “We have to keep looking for him. We have to keep looking for Stiles.”

Scott’s face fell, his heart aching as he watched his best friend break over someone none of you could remember. Although he was silent, it spoke volume to you. “What about a relic?” You tried, eyes darting to both Malia and Lydia desperately. The strawberry blonde sighed, her hand grabbing onto the wrist that was roughly handled not too long ago. “There’s no relic of Stiles-”

“We don’t know that!” You shouted at her, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and looking down at your shuffling feet to avoid their bewildered gazes.

Malia’s blunt voice was next to speak, “It doesn’t even sound like a real name.” She scoffed, her arms crossing over her chest while glancing over to the other two wary teens. “We’re fighting the wrong battle, Y/N.”

Your vision grew blurry with tears, and while you tried your best to make sure they didn’t fall, a few escaped in the process. “We’re trying to bring Stiles back.” Your voice was weak. The thought of your best friends abandoning someone so easily made your heart ache. “He’s out there, and we need to help him. We need to-”

“Enough!” The alpha’s voice suddenly boomed, making your heart stutter. You stared at him with bulging eyes, jaw dropped in shock at the volume of his voice. “The ghost riders are back, and we have no way of stopping them.” Scott spoke sternly, his eyes narrowed at you. “And whatever they are, they’re real. We can’t keep chasing after someone who isn’t.”

Malia instantly agreed with him, her head bobbing up and down. “We have to move on. He didn’t leave anything behind.” She said, the pair of them turning away from you and making their way towards the exit of the hospital. When you looked to Lydia with your bloodshot eyes and wet, flushed cheeks, your bottom lip began to quiver again.

“The only thing he left behind, was me.”

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Your fingers massaged your temples in attempt to soothe another one of the piercing headaches you’ve been getting since a couple weeks ago. You knew it had to deal with Stiles, it was the only explanation. For the past three months, up until a couple weeks ago, you never thought of a Stiles or felt as empty as you did now without him.

“Why don’t they believe me?” You croaked, letting your tear stained face fall into your hands as your shoulders raked with sobs. They didn’t stop, even when Lydia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “He’s real, Lyd. I know it.”

“I believe you.”

Your hair stuck to your stained cheeks as your head to snap up to her direction. “After everything we’ve been through, I believe you.” Her words were soft, but sincere, and it was all you needed to pull her into an embrace you so desperately needed. You two held each other in silence, and you thought back of the event that took place a few days ago with the pack at the hospital — of them giving up on Stiles. Lydia pulled away when the shrill sound of the bell rang throughout the hallway, her hands coming up to your face to wipe at your cheeks and fix your makeup. “Let’s get to class.”

“Stiles, seriously, I need to get to class!”

Your laughter was loud as it bounced off the walls of the hallway. It was empty, just you and Stiles in it as he grabbed a hold of your wrist tans tugged you close to his body. Whipping around to face him, your laughter died down as you stared into his whiskey eyes, your lips curled into a soft smile.

“You have a bathroom pass, you’re okay to stay here for a few more minutes.” He assured, his bottom lip jutting out into a little pout to persuade you. With a playful roll of your eyes, and a cheesy smile, you sat back down on the stairwell.

“Okay, Stilinski, but you’re the one failing history. Not me.”

And once again, your giggles could be heard throughout the empty hallway as you watched your hazel eyed best friend do a victory cheer.

You inhaled sharply at the sudden ache to your head, a whimper leaving your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. You haven’t felt a pain like that for a few days, why is it starting again now?

Ignoring Lydia’s lingering concern, you adjusted the strap of your bag and quickly scurried off to AP Biology. Fortunately, you shared that class with Lydia, but you also shared it with Scott. Your bag made a small clattering sound when you plopped down in your assigned stool, your head falling into your folded arms. Your position stayed this way for pretty much majority of class, up until you felt a nudge to your side. Pulling your head from your arms, you turned to look at Lydia with furrowed brows, lips parting to ask what was wrong before she silently pointed outside the window.

Slowly following her gaze, you stared straight at what appeared to be an abandoned powder blue jeep.

“What if we gave it a paint job?”

You asked aloud as you leaned down to soak the large sponge in your hand with water from a bucket by your feet. Plopping it onto the hood of Stiles’ jeep, you bit back a smile after glancing at the spastic boy’s bewildered expression.

“No!” He gasped, sounded deeply offended. “I love this jeep. Rust, dents, and all. Plus, it was my mom’s and she never changed the color.”

Your lips pulled into a frown at his words, loosening your grip on the sponge and let it sit on the hood of the jeep, rounding the front of the vehicle to meet Stiles on the other side. “I’m not saying we change it, Sti, just.. make it look nicer. It’s like the homeless person of cars!”

You fell into a fit of laughter at his horrified expression, not missing the ghost of a smile he held on his freckled face.

“That’s it, you’re walking home!”

Your eyes grew wildly as you continued to study the jeep, ignoring the stinging to your skull as you turned to face Lydia, shaking her out of the daze you found yourself in seconds before. She quickly blinked back to reality, her eyes eagerly searching your own. “We need to get to that jeep.” You whispered, watching as her strawberry blonde hair swayed with the bobs of her head. She opened her mouth to speak, but was very soon interrupted by another voice.

“Ladies, is there something outside that’s more fascinating than the structure of the human mind?”

“No.”

“I don’t think so.”

You grimaced at the woman’s pointed gaze at your answer, quickly giving her an apologetic smile before she turned back to the rest of the class. As soon as her attention was off the pair of you, your eyes traveled back to the rusty jeep in the parking lot. “Now, many people credit the corpus callosum for giving us sense of intuition, gut instinct, even we ourselves aren’t aware-”

Her lecture was cut short by the screeching of stools. The sound made the class of teens divert their attention from the biology teacher to you and Lydia, who were looking around with a similar absent look in your eyes. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out, only tears forming in your waterline. Thankfully, the teacher noticed, and with a labored sigh, she nodded towards the door. You quickly exited the classroom, faintly hearing an ‘I’ll be right back’ from Lydia and an ‘I’m going to go check on her’ from Scott. Your swift pace didn’t slow at the sound of another pair of clacking heels and thudding footsteps. Pushing past the school doors, you ran towards the man attaching his tow hook to the front of the jeep.

“Hey, wait!”

The man turned in your direction, an eyebrow raised with curiosity at your frantic behavior. “You can’t tow this jeep.” You spoke between pants, looking behind you to see Scott and Lydia walking up to your sides.

“Paperwork says I can. It’s been reported as abandoned.”

Your eyes rolled, and you pushed past the man to slap a hand on the hood of the vehicle, eyes narrowed up on his taller figure. “There. Now it’s not.”

The man opened his mouth to protest, but with the menacing glare Scott was giving him, he unclasped the hook from the hood of the car, and pulled out of the parking lot. The three of you looked between each other, clearly stumped as to why you went out of your way to stop the tow man. “Well, now we have a jeep- Scott, you okay?”

The teenager had his head cocked to the side, eyes squinting in concentration as he slowly walked towards the door of the jeep. You took a step back, too curious to interrupt what Scott was doing.

“There you guys are!”

All three heads snapped towards Malia, who’s dark brown eyes were eyeing the jeep intensely. “You heard it too?” Scott asked, pulling his face away from the window of the jeep. “It’s coming from inside.”

“Break it.” Lydia ordered, stepping closer to the group, “The jeep’s abandoned anyway, nobody’s going to say anything. Break it.”

Scott hesitantly nodded at her insisting, guiding the three of you away before smashing the driver’s side window. The ringing sound that the two werewolves could only hear grew, making it loud enough for you and Lydia to hear as well. “Is that a radio?” You asked, stepping forward to peek inside the jeep to find a police scanner installed into the vehicle. The four of you swiftly shuffled into the jeep, eyes locked on the device that kept its consistent ringing noise.

Then suddenly, it stopped.

And honestly, it felt like your heart might’ve too.

“Why’d it stop?” asked Lydia.

“It doesn’t matter,” you sighed, reaching out for the glowing on/off switch to shut it down. From the passenger seat, you turned to look back at Scott, who held that same perplexed expression from outside the jeep. “What? Did you catch a scent?”

Both teen wolves nodded at this, their noses twitching while they inhaled deeply. You were soon met with Scott’s dark eyes, confusion swirling in them. “Yeah, uh..” He shook his head in disbelief, eyeing each person inside. “Mine. Lydia’s, Malia’s. Yours.”

“Especially yours.” Malia added, slouching in her seat with scrunched brows before asking, “But how? I’ve never been in this jeep before.”

“Neither have I.” Scott said, propping his elbows on the back of the two fronts seats. You turned to face Lydia, who’s lips were twitching into a small smile. “Yes, we have.” She said quietly, and you were quick to catch on. “We just don’t remember it.” You finished quickly, your eyes searching both Scott and Malia’s desperately.

“I thought we were done with that.” Malia deadpanned, glaring at Lydia for getting you riled up again. The three of them continued their quarrel while you let yourself grow distant, a faint ringing in your ear that grew louder instantaneously.

The grip he had on your face readjusted as he licked his lips nervously. "Remember... Remember that I've been in love with you since the beginning of our friendship, and that I didn't even realize until middle school." He chuckled humorlessly, swiping at the few stray tears that sprung from your eyes.

You shook your head in his hold, the faint memories of your blossoming friendship since diapers flashing before your eyes. "Stiles." You wailed, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth to silence your cries.

The boy's eyes flickered past you, his heart stopping at the sight of a Ghost Rider just outside your window. He released a steady breath, leaning into your face.

"And remember this."

“Y/N!” You heard Lydia shout, pulling you out of your trance-like state. You sniffled, glazed eyes looking to hers before letting them wander to the rest of the group’s concerned stares. “I’m sorry I, uh, was just thinking of something. I’m sorry.” Your words were rushed before you bowed your head down to avoid anymore prying eyes.

“We found an address..” Lydia said gently, almost as if she were to speak any louder, you would break. “It’s 129 Woodbine Lane.”

Exhaling slowly, you lifted your head up, a small sound of disbelief tumbling from your lips. “That’s the Sheriff’s house.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“Girls, is this about Stiles again?” The Sheriff’s voice was stern as he looked between you and Lydia from across.

When you announced that the address was home to the Sheriff and Claudia, you and Lydia booked it to her car, rendering both Malia and Scott speechless. After being there for about fifteen minutes interrogating them about their apparently ‘stolen’ jeep, the two adults eventually caught on to your persistence. “Y/N,” Claudia called out to you, a soft, yet worried smile on her face. “Don’t you think it’s time to let this go? Talk to somebody about this?” She asked, shifting her attention onto Lydia as well. “Maybe it’s a good time to talk to your mothers about this..”

You stared at her blankly, worried that if you thought about nobody understanding what you and Lydia did in the slightest, that you’ll break. That you wouldn’t be able to put yourself back together this time.

“I’m sorry, you’re right.” Lydia said, collecting her things from the floor before she stood up from the lounge chair. The three of them conversed a bit longer, but it was all just background noise to you. You were too lost in your head to notice them make subtle glances towards you. Suddenly, you stood up, alarming both Claudia and the Sheriff. You could feel your hands shaking, so you held them, twiddling your thumbs rapidly. “Do you mind if I-” You choked out, resulting to just nodding your head in the direction of their restroom. Once granted permission, you rushed to the hallway, not caring that the three awaiting bodies could hear your pained cries. Your grip on your bag faltered, and you let it drop onto the floor. You stared at the wallpaper that Lydia had told you about peeling, and you found yourself gently rubbing the paper. Pressing your back to the very same wall, you slid down the wall with your head in your hands.

But what you didn’t know, was that the teenage boy with the unforgettable whiskey eyes was doing the very same thing.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

As you sat in the driver’s seat of the rusted blue jeep, you let out a wince while your stomach churned, unable to fathom the familiarity the vehicle brought you. You just couldn’t remember where it came from. You sat there in silence with Lydia, waiting for Scott and Malia to return from wherever they ran off to after hearing a faint roaring in the distance.

“We’re gonna bring him back, you know.” Lydia’s voice broke the silence, attempting to ease your visibly distraught state. Although it didn’t work, you appreciated the effort. “How are we going to do that when we’re the only two people who believe he’s even real?” You asked, your eyes begging for an answer from your best friend even though she was unable to give you one. Just when Lydia’s jaw dropped to speak, footsteps approached you both quickly. You looked over to find a huffing Scott, his right hand clutched around something as he stopped by your window. “Where’s Malia?” You asked, looking past Scott briefly to see if she would turn up, but didn’t. “The roar,” Scott panted, eyes squinting as he recalled the previous event. “It was Peter’s. Peter Hale’s. H-He got out from where the Ghost Riders are keeping people, and he gave me this.”

Before you could ask more questions, a set of keys were in front of your face, hanging off of Scott’s index finger. You eagerly snatched the set from him, looking over them while Lydia climbed into the back seat for Scott to sit in the passenger. Giving the two of them another glance, you slid the key into it’s ignition, a laugh falling from your lips when it was a perfect fit. Turning the key, you heard the engine begin to roar to life, making a smile appear on your lips. Not soon after, there was a loud clunking noise, before the engine died down. “God! Stupid thing..” You grumbled, turning the key again while pressing down on the gas.

“Don’t flood it.” Scott warned, making Lydia cock her head at him with raised brows. “Do you even know what that means?” She asked, chuckling as Scott looked at her with a pained face. While the two engulfed themselves into a small bickering match, you managed to start the car, a squeak of excitement coming from you as you watched the lights inside the car come to life.

“Hello?”

The voice was faint behind the static being from the police scanner, but that was all it took for your heart to skip a beat or two. “Guys..” You mumbled, voice going unheard by Scott and Lydia as they continued their argument. “You guys!” You shouted, eyes looking between the two of them when they silenced, huffing out a breath before gesturing to the active police scanner. “Listen.”

“Hello? Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?”

And just like your own, both the boy and girl’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. Scott barely hesitated, snatching up the mic and putting it to his lips. “Stiles?” He asked tentatively, like he was waiting to be wrong. When the name fell from Scott’s lips, your body went rigid. The possibility of Scott actually believing you now made your eyes well up with tears, a hand reaching up over your mouth. You watched as Lydia grabbed the mic and put it to her own lips, “Stiles, is that you?”

The silence between the three of you was agonizing, the only thing you could do was wait for the familiar voice to ring through again.

And then it did.

“Scott, Lydia, is that you?”

The gasp you let out was muffled behind your hand, the tears in your eyes trickling down your face while you stared at your two best friends in awe. This was real. Stiles was real, and he’s alive.

“Oh my god, Stiles.” Lydia wailed, a tearful smile jerking at her lips along with Scott. “We can hear you.” He confirmed, making a glance at you before looking back at the small wired mic.

“Oh my god, you know me? You-you remember me?” Stiles asked, his tone showing evident disbelief. “Okay, okay, um.. Where’s Y/N? Is she there?”

Your eyes fell from Scott’s to the handheld device, only to look back to him. He gave you an encouraging nod, giving you the mic and staring with Lydia as you held it to your lips, asking quietly, “Stiles, is this.. is this really you?”

From the other line, you heard a slow breath of relief come from the radio. “Yeah, listen to me.. Do you remember the last thing I said to you?”

Your mouth fell agape, looking to the mic as if it had all the answers, while Scott and Lydia stared, expecting one from you.

“Remember… Remember that I’ve been in love with you since the beginning of our friendship, and that I didn’t even realize until middle school.”

Your eyes closed briefly, the blurry memory growing clear as your face scrunched up in concentration. Then it hit you. Moments before Stiles was taken. His love for you. And the kiss. Putting your lips back up to the mic, you spoke breathlessly. “You said.. You said ‘remember I’ve been in love with you, since the beginning.’ and then-” your bottom lip was worried between your teeth, a small sob escaping you. “And then you kissed me.” The words came out weakly, tears rolling down your face just as much as the night he was taken, but that was the only thing you knew from the distant memory. Scott took the microphone from you, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to talk in the state that you were in. “Where are you? We’re coming to find you.” Scott asked hurriedly, knowing that his best friend was out there was putting him on edge.

“No, no. You can’t. You won’t be able to find me.”

He sounded so defeated through the radio, and god, did it break you. You thought that him talking to the three of you might be doing more harm than good to you right now. What if you wouldn’t be able to get him out?

“Stiles, what’re you talking about? Just.. Just tell us where you are and we’ll come, we’ll come.” Scott pleaded into the mic, eyes filling to the brim with salty tears, same as yours. In the distance, you could hear loud rustling from Stiles’ end, making you involuntarily lean towards the mic. “Just, just remember this. Canaan, okay? Remember Canaan.” His voice sounded panicked, and the rustling only grew louder. Stiles was in danger. Ripping the device from the tan boy’s hands, you cried into the mic, “No wait, Stiles, don’t go! Stiles!”

You were too late.

He was gone.

But, you were determined to bring him back.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

You looked between your pack in the dinning room of the McCall house, you felt as though you were stuck right at the beginning. Scott face was blotted with tears, his cheeks glistening underneath the light as he stared blankly ahead, repeatedly calling a disconnected phone number.

Your attempt to get Sheriff Stilinski on your side after hearing Stiles through the radio fell straight through, as he shot you, Scott, and Lydia down almost instantly. After looking through the underground tunnels, you managed to find a riff, but it was destroyed by the hellhound — who was being controlled by a supernatural Nazi from 1943. You could almost relate to how Stiles felt right now — uou were stuck, and you didn’t know what the next step was or if it was even worth it.

Lydia was the first one to break the fifteen minutes of silence. “Scott,” She sighed, placing her hand over the cellphone in the tan boy’s hand, slowly easing it down onto the table. “Your mom’s gone, but she’s still alive.”

“What do we do now?” asked Malia, her dark eyes looking to the three of you expectantly. She was never really one to follow rules or plans, but this was different — it was all you had left.

“We can’t hide from them.” You murmured, looking to your fingernails as you picked at them to avoid eye contact. “What about Lydia? The Ghost Rider was scared of her.” Malia pointed out, making you sigh and simply shake your head at her.

“No, it wasn’t fear. It was more like.. reverence.” Lydia said.

“It doesn’t matter!” You snapped, the weight in your heart only seeming to grow heavier with each breath you took. “The rift is gone. We’re the only ones left.”

Then it was silent.

Until it wasn’t.

The backdoor of the McCall house opened abruptly, creaking as Sheriff Stilinski stepped through. His light eyes looked to each of you while you stared back at him, confusion clear in the four of you.

“I have a son.”

And that was all it took for your hope to be restored.

Looking up at the older man with glossy eyes, your expression mimicked the three of your friends — hope and confusion.

“His name is Mieczyslaw Stilinski. But we called him Stiles.” Noah’s eyes drifted to yours, an apologetic smile gracing his features before he cleared his throat. “I remember.. when Stiles was a little kid, he couldn’t say his first name. Not sure why, it pretty much rolls of the tongue. But, uh, the closest he could get, was ‘mischief.’” This time, the Sheriff’s eye’s drifted to Lydia, who was giving him a tight lipped smile to match with her green eyes.

The man pursed his lips, a dry chuckle rumbling from his chest as he looked to the four teenagers. “I remember when, uh.. Stiles first got his jeep. It belonged to his mother, she wanted him to have it. The first time he took it for a spin behind the wheel, he went straight into a ditch. I gave him his first roll of duck tape that day.” His lips curled into a smile as he thought back on the memory, and you couldn’t help but do the same because finally you could see it — you could see the end of the line. “We’re here tonight because my goofball son decided Scott and Y/N, two of his greatest friends in the world, into the woods to see a dead body.”

You blinked up at him, your jaw slacked while you tried to form a simple sentence in your head. “How.. How did you remember?” You asked, blown away at his ability to remember someone he so blatantly told you didn’t exist. Noah nodded towards Lydia, and you quickly whipped your head around with a watery grin on your face. “It started with Stiles’ jersey. Then I found the red string for his crime board. Finally, his whole room came back and all the memories.”

“Then the strangest thing happened.” The Sheriff scoffed, looking to Scott when his eyes furrowed curiously. “I thought I saw him.. Something opened, right in the middle of the room, just for a moment. Then it was gone.”

“A rift.” You mumbled, eyes growing in realization as you looked to the group. “I thought there was only one left? We saw it disappear.” Malia asked, referring to the portal that was now destroyed by Parrish — in his hellhound form. “You remembered Stiles, and that opened a new rift.” Lydia pieced together, pointing to Sheriff Stilinski who looked among you all with a lost look on his face.

Scott bowed his head, the ends of his lips twitching into a smile. “If the Sheriff can do it.. maybe we can too.” He proposed, looking to you with hopeful eyes. You grabbed ahold of his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and nodding to him. “The rift closed, but we can open it again.”

“How?” asked Malia.

“By remembering Stiles.” You said firmly, “we have to remember everything.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“How will we know when it’s working?”

Your question was muffled behind your fingers, your teeth gnawing on the nails and turning your skin soft. Lydia looked over her shoulder at you, eyes narrowed with pursed lips, and you immediately shut your mouth. You were in the Argent bunker, watching a locked Scott McCall travel through his own mind in some sort of cooling machine.

With Malia and Lydia on your side, you watched a Scott stood still with seeled eyes, waiting for further instructions from Lydia. “This isn’t working..” Lydia whined, her voice wobbling with panic as her eyes grew at the way Scott thrashed around in the machine. “You said he needs an emotional connection, right? Like what the Sheriff did?” Malia asked, stepping closer to Lydia who was pacing on the other end of the room. The strawberry blonde nodded, looking to the taller girl with glazed eyes. “He wasn’t just remembering someone, he was remembering his son. His family.”

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Stilinski?” You asked, crawling your way between him and the McCall boy as you all laid on the floor of his cluttered bedroom. Both of the boys shifted about on Stiles’ floor, making room for you before cozying up again.

“I don’t know, I just.. I don’t know.” The whiskey eye boy sighed, his tongue darting over his lips as he stared at the ceiling. You looked over to him, brows raised in concern as he struggled to find the words. With your bottom lip worried between your teeth, you let your closest hand reach out for his, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance which he returned almost immediately.

“It’s just.. ever since my mom died, and my dad being in the station majority of the time,” He mumbled, exhaling shakily before sitting up from his position. You and Scott both mocked him, sitting up with crossed legs in a small circle to see each other. “You two are my best friends, you know? You’re all I have left. Besides my dad, but he doesn’t risk his life nearly as much as we do and-” He paused, his eyes filling with tears that caused your own to prick with them. Looking to Scott, you watched as a small teardrop rolled down his tan cheek.

“I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if something happened to either one of you. You’re family.”

“Scott!” You called out to the boy, gently tapping on the glass window of the machine in attempt to catch his attention. “Listen, I remember something. During our junior year we were with Stiles, okay? And-and he was talking about how.. how after his mom died, we were all he had left.” Your eyes welled up with tears, blocking your vision. You sniffled, not caring if the tears shed or not.

“He said that he wouldn’t know what he would do with himself if he lost one of us, that we’re family. But he’s lost right now, Scott. He’s lost and we need to remember him, we need to remember our family and find him.”

Your words seemed to strike a cord with the alpha, his thrashing stopped and he was mumbling things underneath his breath. But it stopped, and as soon as it did there was a deep rumbling sound, causing you and the girls to jump and stare at the flashing light coming from the window. As soon as it appeared, it vanished, and was replaced with a loud beeping sound coming from the machine. You were quick to act, pulling Scott out of it. Malia rushed over with a blanket she found lounging around and guided him to sit as you glanced at him.

“It was working, why’d you pull me out?” Scott asked incredulously, eyes bulging as he looked between the you and Malia. “You were going to die in there.” You said simply, catching a glimpse of Lydia who was already staring at you.

“How do you get Scott to do that?” She asked, tone almost accusing, as if she were piecing together some sort of puzzle.

You blinked at her, eyebrows scrunched together as you thought of the now distant memory. “When, uh, when you and Malia were talking about family, it triggered a memory of Stiles.” You mumbled, but it was loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “For the past few weeks, I would get these headaches.. and whenever the headaches came, so did the memories of Stiles. As soon as I remember though, it gets blurry — I forget. But I know they’re from him.”

You never looked up from your locked gaze on the floor, but when you did, you were met with three stunned stares.

“It’s you..” Lydia said quietly, her heels clacking faintly on the concrete floor as she made her way towards you. She grabbed ahold of your wrists, her sea foam green eyes boring into your own. “It’s all about connection, and you’ve had one with Stiles since the Ghost Riders took him.”

“It’s true.” Scott agreed, his teeth chattering slightly while he cuddled into the blanket around his shoulders. “When I was remembering him, I was also remembering the two of you together. I would also tease him for making it so obvious,” he chuckled, staring off distantly before he locked eyes with you. “Nobody had a connection like you two.”

You were speechless, staring between the three of your best friends with soaked cheeks. “Okay.. okay, so, what do we do?”

Just as you spoke the words of agreement, smiles appeared on their faces, which only made you mirror them. “We have to do it the old fashioned way.” Lydia stated, grabbing ahold of your shoulders and guiding you to an empty stool propped up next to the metal table. “We’re going to have to actually hypnotize you.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

You were in a classroom. A single desk occupied by you whilst you sat in front of a television, a remote settled on the wooden desk by your right hand. As you looked around cautiously, a ghost of a smile appeared, genuinely excited about the fact that you were actually hypnotized.

“Weird..” You whispered, your eyes darting around the empty classroom and to the television that displayed a static channel.

“Y/N? Are you in the classroom? Do you see the TV and remote?” Lydia’s voice echoed throughout the room, causing you to jump slightly in your seat. Your focus drifted to the remote, picking it up and inspecting it. “Yeah.. Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good. Now, the remote gives you access to all of your memories. Find the memories of Stiles.” Lydia’s voice directed, and your thumb hovered over the power button, thinking of the missing boy before clicking play.

You heard the faint patter of footsteps approach you, it was a boy about your age, six years old. He had freckles scattered across his face, a shaved head and a sheepish smile.

“Hi. I-I’m Mi..Mie-Mieczy...” You watched as the boy sighed, his face heating up with embarrassment. When he looked back up to meet your eyes, you offered him a friendly smile, holding your hand out for him to shake. “Hi, I’m Y/N.. your name is Stiles? Your dad said so!” You asked, beaming happily when the boy, Stiles’, face visibly perked up at the fact that you knew his name. A small giggle escaped your lips as he shook your hand enthusiastically.

As you conversed animatedly with the younger version of Stiles, you could hear Sheriff Stilinski speak to your mother faintly in the background as they watched the two of you together. “Something tells me they’re gonna get along just fine.”

You gasped, no longer reliving the memory of the young version of yourself and Stiles. Now back in the empty classroom in front of the TV, you looked between it and the remote in your hand, a laugh of disbelief erupting from you and echoing throughout the room.

“Stiles..” You whispered, longing evident in your tone. In your trance, the three of your friends watched you intently as you whispered his name, making the flame of the candle flicker lightly. Lydia then cleared her throat, taking the lead once again. “Y/N, look for another memory of Stiles.”

You did as you were told, flickering through the multiple channels the television had to offer.

“You’re too pretty to be crying, Y/N.”

“No! You can’t go, it’s too dangerous!”

“Sometimes the person we’re looking for isn’t in the search at all. Maybe.. maybe they’re just right in front of us.”

Stiles’ voice echoed loudly around the room as you clicked through every memory, each one being passed by because none of them fit — none of them felt like what you were looking for. You landed on a channel, pausing briefly your rushed clicking and letting it play.

“I’m with you, ‘til the end of the line.”

It was Stiles’ voice again. No memory being played, just his voice, but you could somehow remember the exact moment of the conversation took place. “Is that a Marvel reference, you Star Wars nerd?” You heard your voice this time, echoing just like Stiles’ had been. A smile grew on your lips as the memory began to restore itself in your mind. “Yeah! But, you’re so into that stuff so.. it could be our thing! What do you think?”

“I think..” You found yourself whispering the same response you said in the memory, “I think it’s perfect. I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, Sti.” You murmured in your trance, confusing the three teenagers once again. “Y/N.” Lydia’s voice called out to you again, “Find the memory that you and Stiles made a connection.”

You furrowed your brows, looking over your shoulder suddenly. There was a door, but it wasn’t there before. Setting the remote down, you picked yourself up from the wooden desk and made your way to the door, slowly pulling it open. You found yourself in the Sheriff’s house once again, but you weren’t alone. You were in a memory. This memory was different though, and you knew it as you made your way to where the memory was being played out. You always relived them, never watched them — but this one, you were exactly that.

You watched your eleven year old self sit down next to a boy around the same age, who you knew was Stiles, and place a hand over his. He had tears in his eyes, and his face was vacant of emotion. You watched as your younger self looked at him with sorrow eyes, and your heart broke when you realized what memory was being played.

“This was the night his mom died..” You mumbled, tears clouding your vision and you quickly wiped them to watch the memory continue being played out. No words were being said between your younger selves, but none were needed to be. You observed Stiles placing his head in your lap, tears rolling down his face at a quicker pace as his expression finally broke. He released heartbroken sobs as your fingers ran through his hair, your younger self staring ahead. If you didn’t know that this was a memory, you would’ve thought she were staring right at you.

It didn’t take you long to figure out why this memory was being played, and your jaw slacked at the realization. “That’s when it happened.” You whispered in shock, finding yourself slowly being pulled from the trance.

“That’s when what happened?” You heard Scott’s faint voice ask. The vision of three of your best friends were blurry as you were snapping back to reality, and they all were looking at you expectantly as you cried.

“The night his mom died, when I was there.. H-He was crying with his head in my lap. That’s when it all changed.” You spoke while staring off at the candle, who’s flame was now burnt out. “I-I didn’t realize it until now, but that... that was the night we fell in love.”

At this point the tears trailing down your face were relentless, only growing worse when you painfully gasped. “I was there! I was there the night he was taken.” You sobbed, hands covering your mouth while Scott, Lydia, and Malia’s faces contorted with shock. “When the Ghost Riders took him, I was there.”

As you stood up from the stool, the ground shook beneath your feet, a bright, zapping light took over the room before disappearing behind the door. You glanced back to the three teenagers behind you, taking a step forward and carefully opening the door, revealing a blinding white light at the end of the tunnel.

Stiles turned his body to face yours, using both hands to grab onto yours with need. “Y/N, I’m going to be erased, okay? Just like Alex. You’re gonna forget me.”

“No. No, I won’t! I won’t. I won’t.” You promised, your sobs escaping at every chance they could.

“You will.” He whispered calmly, tears rolling down his own freckled cheeks as he gave you a small smile. “Remember… Remember that I’ve been in love with you since the beginning of our friendship, and that I didn’t even realize until middle school.”

“I never told him,” Your voice croaked at you spoke aloud, walking closer to the white light. “I never told him how I felt before they took him. That I love him. I never said it back!” You shouted, the feeling of Scott grabbing ahold of your arm to keep you from walking towards the light making itself present.

Then suddenly.. there was no need to walk towards the light.

Because there was a figure standing in front of it.

You let out a cheerful laugh, tears bunching at the creases by your eyes as you stared at the familiar shadowy figure, gasping out it’s name.

“Stiles.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“Where is he?” You whimpered, feeling your knees buckle at the thought of failing Stiles yet again. Gripping onto the stool, you looked to Lydia and Malia, who were staring at you sympathetically. “We didn’t see anyone.” Lydia spoke gently in attempt to keep your emotions from spilling.

Scott had left you with both Malia and Lydia to keep trying to bring Stiles back and to be here just in case he comes here looking for any of you.

“I saw him. It was working, I know it.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself, but with Malia’s supernatural hearing ability, she heard you loud and clear. You stared at her blankly as she hopped up to her feet, pulling open the door and beginning to step out. “Um, where are you going?” Lydia asked from where she was next to you.

“To go find Stiles,” Malia stated as if it were obvious. “Listen, Stiles isn’t coming here. If he were, he would’ve, but he hasn’t, so he’s not.”

You blinked at her, deciding to disregard her last sentence before standing up yourself. “You believe me?” You asked her, and when she silently nodded her head, you were quickly on her side. “Okay well,” You trailed off, turning to Lydia who was still sitting on the stool. “Stiles is out there, I can feel it. So please, Lyd, help us bring him home.”

You watched as the strawberry blonde pursed her lips, lifting herself off of her own stool before strutting over to you. “Let’s go find him.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“Y/N! What are you doing here?” You heard Scott yell from the end of the hallway of Beacon Hills High. Stumbling over the train tracks that were magically built into the floor, you grunted as you fell into his chest. “I’m looking for Stiles.” You answered with a shrug of your shoulders, watching Scott’s eyes grow with an emotion you really didn’t have time to decipher. “I’m going to places he’s most likely to show up while Lydia and Malia look at where the other train track lead, but his jeep’s gone.. So I won’t be able to look anywhere else but here on foot.”

Scott eyes darted around as his mouth opened and closed, trying to find something to say. “I, uh, took it? Yeah, Liam needed me so I hotwired the jeep and drove to the hospital.” He explained, a sheepish smile on his lips. You nodded slowly at his explanation, not really seeing all the pieces fitting together. “Okay.. so where is it now?”

“What? Oh! It’s still at the hospital. I, uh.. ran.. here.”

You rolled your eyes at his painfully awkward replies, pulling away from him and beginning your journey down the hallway. “Well, I’m going to the lockerooms.” You announced, peering back at Scott who was now conversing with Lydia, who appeared out of absolutely nowhere. “Take Lydia with you! There are Ghost Riders everywhere.” Scott shouted, giving Lydia a shove before dashing off into the other direction.

“He seems a little.. off.” You said to Lydia, chuckling softly. The two of you walked side by side through the eerily silent school, occasionally checking over your shoulders in case you needed to defend yourself. “Yeah, but that’s Scott McCall for you.” She laughed nervously which you furrowed your brows at.

“You know, you’re acting just like hi— Lydia, look out!”

Your words quickly caught her, and the Ghost Rider’s attention. “Cover your ears.” Lydia warned, her voice low but stern and you quickly did as you were told, squeezing your hands to your ears as Lydia released one of her banshee shrieks, sending the Ghost Rider flying into the set of lockers. It was silent, and you slowly pulled your hands away from your ears, stepping closer to Lydia to see the damage done.

But when you did, you felt your heart stop. All because were staring straight into a pair of whiskey eyes, and while you did, you felt all the memories with those eyes come rushing back.

“Lydia..” You heard Stiles’ voice say with relief, a smile appearing on his lips at the sight of his best friend. Deciding to come into better view, you shuffled to the side of Lydia, and the scuffling of your feet surely brought attention from the two other people in the room. “Y/N..” He mumbled, his voice holding a whole new different emotion as his hazel eyes filled with tears. In the background you could hear the clacking of Lydia’s heels fade away, giving you two your moment.

You didn’t know what to think as you slowly stepped towards the boy, almost as if you were to rush towards him any quicker, he’d disappear. A face you haven’t seen in months was finally in view, and the gaps in your memory were finally being filled by the boy you loved — it all made sense again. It was that moment where all the tears, all the fighting, all the heartache- it felt worth it. It felt like the world finally made sense again.

“Is this real?” You croaked, a weak sob eliciting from you when your hands reached out to cup his cheeks, all while staring into frantically into his eyes. The brunette quickly leaned into your touch, his tears rolling down his cheeks and onto your hands as he greedily soaked up the feeling of you touching him — deprived of it for what felt like an eternity. “It’s real, I’m here. I’m here, I’m real.” He repeated to you, eyes fluttering shut before he held the back of your head to his chest, nuzzling the tip of nose into your hair.

The moment, however, didn’t last long before you were thrashing in his hold. “I never said anything back,” You wailed, bottom lip quivering as you recalled the last memory you had of him. “You told me you loved me, and I never said it back. I never told you how I felt.” You panicked. You felt the heat rush to your neck and cheeks as Stiles gripped onto your face as a way to snap you back. Fortunately, it worked, and you were staring at him wide eyed while he simply looked at you with his same beautiful, lopsided smile.

“You didn’t have to.”

Was all he said before his lips were slanted on yours, involving you in a kiss that was completely different the first one the two of you shared. The first kiss, it was frantic, rushed. Stiles kissed you because at the time, it was the last time he would ever see you again. This kiss, however, was slow and it said everything that words couldn’t. You felt your breath hitch, your body melting into his as you kissed him back with love and longing — two emotions that overwhelmed your body more than any other. You felt the grip he had on your face tighten, pulling you even closer to his body as he pushed as much passion as he could into the kiss. Finding yourself holding onto his flannel overshirt, you couldn’t help but shuffle your feet closer to close any existing space.

He was the first to pull away, his forehead pressed to yours once more while he inhaled deeply to catch his breath with you doing the same. Your eyes were open, scanning over his face and looking over each freckle and beauty mark that littered his face gracefully, bringing a small smile to your lips.

And as the boy in front of you slowly peeled his eyelids open, revealing the beautiful whiskey color you found yourself in love with, you knew this was it.

He was back in your arms again, more real than ever. Not a pounding headache of a memory. Not a faint dream that had you gasping for breath in the middle of the night. Not a figment of your imagination. He was real and this was it.

This was the end of the line.

Late Nights || Dave Hodgman

A/N: I was debating on whether I should make this a dylan or dave fic.. but I decided on dave bc this is too wholesome to not go to him.

word count: 1,438

WARNINGS: mentions of underage drinking, fluff.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“The room’s spinning..” You whimpered, gripping onto whoever was keeping you steady at the moment. “Oh, god, why is the room spinning?”

The person’s grip on your waist tightened while a chuckle rumbled from their chest, holding you close to them as they shuffled around. “Nothing’s spinning, Y/N, we’re outside. Now hold still, I’m trying to get my keys.” The voice spoke with amusement, and you slowly realized that it was Dave accompanying you. Letting out a low groan, you shifted closer to his side to keep yourself up, your eyes squeezing shut to block out the brightness of the porch lights.

There was a small jingling of keys and a few more sounds before you heard the front door open — of who’s house? you have yet to know. Every step you took made your stomach churn, a pout of discomfort on your lips when you peeled your eyes open to meet your staircase. There were so many. So, so many.

You looked to Dave with pleading eyes, watching as the boy sighed before wrapping his arms under your legs and lifting you up and to his chest. As he slowly stepped up each stair, you leaned your head onto his shoulder with a content sigh. You could feel his body shiver when you nuzzled your nose to his neck — he smelled of sandalwood and vanilla.

“You smell good,” You mumbled drunkenly, not caring enough to notice the growing red glow to Dave’s cheeks as he gently laid you down on your bed. “Uh, thank you,” He stammered, hands fumbling around slightly when slipping your heels off your feet. “Do you have anything to wipe your makeup off?”

You nodded lazily, hand raising up and flicking over in the direction of your vanity with a quiet hum. Dropping your hand back down on the bed, you snuggled your face into your pillow as Dave quickly made his way over to your vanity. His face contorted with confusion while looking over the multiple skin products sprawled out on the table top, letting out a small ‘ah’ when he found a packet of makeup wipes.

“I’ll get you some water in a sec.” He mumbled, kneeling down beside you and the bed on the floor. “Can you sit up?” He asked, and you groaned while rolling onto your back. It was the best you could give him at the moment in your drunken state. A small laugh left the boy’s lips as he pulled out a makeup wipe, gently rubbing at the now oily product.

“You got absolutely hammered tonight, you know. Had to pull you off of Brendan Meltzer.” You heard Dave scoff, unable to see him pull a face of disgust, shaking his head at the image as you hummed in response. Dave could clearly tell that you wouldn’t be able to recall a single detail from your late night, so he decided it would be best not to drill you for your decision of trying to make out with the football player.

Goosebumps rose on your skin at the feeling of the cool wipe brushing on your face, and along your eyelids. Your hand reached out and grabbed Dave’s wrist, pausing him from cleaning the rest of your makeup before you peeled your eyes open. “You’re a good guy, Dave.” You whispered, looking into his warm whiskey eyes. He looked down at you with a ghost of a smile before shaking his head and opening his mouth to deny, but you interrupted him by adding, “I mean, how many guys do you know would take a girl home and not sleep with her, but make sure she’s cleaned up and taken care of?”

This time you did notice the way his cheeks and neck began to glow with a faint red color, even with the dim lighting of your bedroom. Dave exhaled deeply, looking down at your hand which was no longer on his wrist, but playing with his fingers, before gazing back into your eyes. “You’re not just some girl, Y/N. You’re my best friend, and I’m always gonna be here to make sure you’re safe.” The brunette said sweetly, making tears well up in your eyes. When he noticed this, his brown eyes grew with panic, mouth gaped open as you released small weeping sounds.

Before he could try and ask what was wrong, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and crying into his shoulder. “I-I love you s-so much, Dave!” You blubbered in between your sobs, tightening your grip on the boy who had tentatively slipped his arms around your waist to return your death grip of a hug. Dave laughed slightly at your sudden burst of drunken affection, pressing a kiss to the side of your head while rubbing circles on your back. “I love you too, bub,” He swallowed thickly, eyes screwing shut to accompany his clenched jaw as he whispered, quietly, “More than you know.”

He held you close for as long as you let him, rubbing comforting circles on your back while mumbling gentle words into your ear, unaware to the fact that he was essentially rocking you to sleep. When you tiredly pulled away, you stared at the brunette with droopy eyes while cupping his cheek, leaving him to stare at you curiously. “Any girl would be lucky to have you, Davie.” You mumbled, sounding more sober than before, and leaving Dave bewildered.

Feeling his throat grow dry, his eyes darted from from the hand on his cheek and the close proximity of your face to his. The brunette was almost certain that you could hear his heart pounding madly beneath his chest while you continued to brush the pad of your thumb along his cheek. Dave wet his lips slowly, his eyes furrowing as he debated with himself on asking his question. He knew he shouldn’t ask with the state that you were in, but before he could stop himself, the words tumbled from his mouth as he asked, “E-Even you?”

It was silent for a few moments, and you could feel Dave’s body stiffen underneath you and his fingers anxiously twitching on your waist as he awaited his answer. You nodded slowly, feeling as though your body was about to shut down with exhaustion at any minute. “Mhm.. even me.” You sighed, letting your eyes flutter shut and let your forehead fall onto Dave’s with a gentle ‘thump’. Had you not been so tired, you would’ve aimed for his shoulder.

His breath hitched in his throat, eyes bulging at the feeling of your short exhales warming his lips. He spluttered, trying to form words, but ultimately failing due to the fact that his lips were a few mere inches away from yours. “Let’s, um.. Let’s get you to bed.” He suggested, clearing his throat quickly after his voice cracked due to his nerves. He pulled back your covers as you slowly untangled yourself from him, laying your head on your pillow and curling into yourself.

You felt Dave drape the covers over you, which you immediately snuggled into and let yourself fade into your slumber. Your ears perked at the faint thuds of footsteps, which you could only assume were Dave’s, and the sound of running water from your bathroom. The footsteps grew closer to you, and you struggled to open your eyes once more. Silently watching your best friend place a few tablets and a glass of water on your nightstand, you held onto his wrist once he put the glass down.

“Thank you,” You blinked up at him, “for everything.” You whispered, watching as his freckled face looked down at you adoringly with soft smile gracing his features. Carefully pulling his hand from your grip, Dave brushed a few stray hairs from your forehead before gently placing his lips there. You closed your eyes, the feeling of his lips on your skin bringing warmth to your face. When he pulled away, your eyes were still closed, breathing now at a steady rhythm. You had fallen asleep to Dave’s kiss.

You were unable to see the longing look in his eyes that night. The twitching of his fingers that were so eager to hold you again, but never let you go. Nor were you able to hear the bittersweet tone of his voice when he mumbled, “I’ll be here for you forever, and a day.”

And as much as he wanted to tell you the morning after, he knew that he would have to resort to saying it was another one of those late nights. 

5 and 19 for drabble challenge, of course, with Dylan, if you can 💖

It came out a little different from what I had planned, but I hope you like it!  💖

5. “I’m not here to make friends”

19. “You’re Satan.”

The sun was shining relentlessly, sweat dripping down the bodies of everyone under it as they worked their ass off to get everything done. You had been sitting there for what felt like hours, your eyes roaming around the packed square trying to find the person you were waiting for, but no such luck. The man by your side huffed, his arms closed over his chest, his hair stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck, the humidity of his body showing through his tight t-shirt.

“How long do you think until he gets here?” he asked in a hushed tone, his eyes never leaving the store in front of you.

“I don’t know, he’s running late.”

The man looked up from his chair, his amber eyes meeting yours briefly before he turned his gaze to a point behind your face, completely ignoring your presence altogether.

“If this is a set up, you’re going to regret it.” he threatened, his fingers drumming against the table top.

“And here was I thinking you were starting to warm up to me,” you chuckled, your head shaking from one side to the other. His animosity towards you didn’t faze you; it had been like that ever since his plane landed and you picked him and his team up in the airport. You had been warned about it.

“I’m not here to make friends, sweetheart,” he seethed, his eyes dangerously flicking to yours, a spark of something igniting in them. And just like that, the waiter walking by you tripped on your feet, the tray on his hands flying around, water splashing down your white shirt.

“CUT!” a loud voice resonated.

You looked around, your eyes wide open as you tried to understand what had just happened, water running down your body. Of course you had fucked up and caused an accident on set, it was just your way of making things go not so smoothly.

By your side, Dylan cracked up, his eyes closing as he doubled over the table replaying everything in his head. The tense conversation, the suspicious stares, the flying tray and the water wetting your clothes almost completely, turning the fabric see-through.

“Would you stop?” you hissed, your arms trying their best to cover what little dignity you had left. Why on Earth did you have to be so clumsy?

“I’m sorry,” Dylan rasped out, his voice struggling to come out. Ever since you two had stared shooting together, you had done nothing more than humiliating yourself in front of him, from making background characters tripping to getting stuck in the most awkward positions and every damn time there he was, trying his best to hold back a laughter, but not succeeding for long.

You suffered from a severe cause of public humiliation and having Dylan O’Brien watching it all the time was not something you found endearing. One because you had ashamed yourself countless times by that time and other because you might have a little crush on him. Who could blame you, though?

“You’re just the worst,” you huffed getting up from the chair, hurrying back to behind the cameras to get changed.

“You love me!” Dylan shouted back to you, his smile never leaving his face.

“I stand by my words. You’re Satan, Dylan!”

Heeey, can i have neck and waist from the prompt list with Dylan please?

send me a PROMPT for a 'kiss me' blurb -

[ WAIST ] : receiver catches sender around the waist right before they kiss them.

[ NECK ] : sender brings a hand up and rests it on the back of the receiver’s neck, pulling them in for a kiss.

It wasn't often that you both chose to go out for date night, and tonight, in particular, was no different. There was just something so appealing about a home-cooked meal and cuddling in front of an old-timey movie playing in the background. You and Dylan both adored the simple things in life, the normalcy that isn't often represented in the lives of those of the rich and famous. Knowing him, he'd be more than happy with a burger from McDonalds and large fries - however, you also knew that he deserved to be treated with something a bit more special than usual take-out. This is what led you in front of a hot stove, surrounded by an array of ingredients, with the small huffs and swears of Dylan echoing from the other room.

You ducked your head around the corner and furrowed your brows at your boyfriend's actions, scanning over the intensity of concentration sketched across his facial features. He was setting the table with the tip of his tongue poking through his lips, his own eyebrows crossing. You could see the remnants of a beautiful summery bouquet scattered over the top of your dining table, water from the fallen vase dripping off the sides of the table from the spilt puddle. Your hand flew to your mouth, stifling a chuckle as you continued to watch him. It wasn't until you chortled that little bit too loud that Dylan whipped his head in your direction, eyes growing wide at the fact that he was caught out. Your lips curled inward as they pursed, shoulders still wavering from now silent laughter.

His feet kicked off and were soon hot on your heels as you retreated back into the kitchen. You maneuvered around the island bench, making sure to keep your eyes set on Dylan when he flattened his hands against the opposite side from you. His furrowed eyebrows were challenging your next move, communicating that no matter where you go next, he'll be right there to catch you. You barely moved a foot to your left before large hands suddenly clasped around your waist, playfully tugging your back against a strong chest. Dylan leaned back so that he was perched against the sink, your body flush against his, the man's lips peppering small pecks over the exposed skin under your ear. Shivers provoked goosebumps up your arms from his touch, and he began to laugh at your small moans of protest when he pulled away. Dylan sighed, "You weren't supposed to see that I fucked up, ya know? Kinda ruins the whole 'perfect boyfriend' thing I had goin' on."

You turned in his arms before peering up at him with an expression of admiration, hands linking behind his neck. You smiled sheepishly at him, "You're still perfect, even if you break my favourite vase and leave water marks on my dining table." You followed his wandering gaze when they flicked down to your lips, his tongue poking out once more to quickly lick at his own. Even after all this time together, you still found yourself growing giddy and weak at the simplest actions Dylan made, especially when they led to your arms wrapped around each other and lips sharing sweet kisses.

One of your hands dragged fingers through his brunette hair, nails scraping lightly at his scalp in a way that you knew soothed him. The other sat flat against the back of his neck, applying small pressure as you pulled his head down toward you, the aim to affix your lips against his gently. Dylan complied immediately. He applied pressure into your union as one hand remained grasping your hip and the other slid down conspicuously past your lower back. His nose probed against your cheek when he turned his head, taking the lead with a desperate nudging of his tongue until you gladly granted him access - you could feel him smile easily against your lips. The urgent sensation was enough to create a groan of pleasure to escape you, needing to stand on your toed so that you could push yourself even closer to him, ready to take your moment to a deeper level when you heard an interfering hissing sound.

Your head pulled away and was focused onto the stove, whatever you had bubbling in the pot was now overflowing and dripping onto the hotplate. You swore under your breath and ran toward the disaster waiting to happen; fiddling with the dials before gloved hands moved the pot onto a cold space on the stove. Dylan peered over your shoulder and hummed, fingers somehow fiddling with a spoon that you had no recollection of him picking up. He moved past your hurrying frame and scooped up the liquid that was still falling from the pot. His shoulders lifted into a shrug after he tasted your food, "Good. Not as good as the taste of your tongue down my throat, but still good."

When Dylan Proposes.... || Headcanon

Pairing : Dylan O'Brien x Reader

Warnings : nothing, just fluffy business

Notes : first actual headcanon - woohoo!

first of all, it would always run through his head how he would propose

on constant replay

so many people go out of their way to compose a HUGE celebratory ordeal

however, he always knew that he didn't want to go over the top

dylan realised a while ago that he wanted to marry you

but he never proposed because he didn't how HOW

he's had the ring hidden on the top shelf of the wardrobe

because you couldn't reach up there

it was hidden in between some sweaters - dylan was quite proud of the spot, in all honesty

you were cooking one night when he poked his head into the kitchen, body leaning against the doorway, arms crossed

you were too consumed to notice him there

because you were singing his favourite song...

dylan would play it all the time, on replay, non-stop

you'd heard it THAT many times that you learnt it off by heart absentmindedly

now it was your favourite too

his lips lifted when he saw you wearing your apron

it was a gift from his grandmother for christmas two years ago

it was the first gift she'd given you, after he would talk her ear off about how much you loved to cook and how good you were

it meant a lot that she gifted it to you, which is why you wear it everytime you cook, without fault

and dylan always smiled with the biggest of heart eyes

seeing you singing his song in that cliche' sloganed apron made him realise right there and then that his love for you is inevitable

you were everything to him, you were it for him

you fought and you both cried, but you always came back with the biggest smiles and hearty laughs

and the roller coaster that is life is a ride that he never wants to get off

if it means spending it forever with you

so he went to get the ring

it glistened when he opened the box, the light of your bedroom catching it just right

and he knew straight away it was perfect

both the ring and the moment

and you, of course

by the time he made it back to the kitchen, you started moving your hips

dancing a little

singing louder

evidently getting lost in the moment

and dylan could watch you forever

that's when he fell to one knee

his eyes remained on you, not even realising what he'd done

the small black velvet box was clasped between his shaky hands

he didn't know why he was nervous

he loved you

you loved him

he had been calling you wifey for at least two months now

so why. was. he. so. nervous??

but maybe... it was just excitement

knowing that he could hold you in his arms forever

he'd wake up with you by his side every morning for the rest of his life

he could kiss you whenever he wanted

most of all, he could be his true and utter self and you would never judge him

not even once

dylan's focus broke when you turned around and saw him there

you froze

but you did manage to let his name fall from your lips so softly

honey brown eyes looking up to you and just sparkling so sweetly

he sighed, laughing under his breath, "i don't even know where to start..."

reminiscing about when you met, how he noticed your big and beautiful eyes before anything else

how their colour quickly became his favourite, and still is

and then on your first date when he discovered your food allergy at the fancy restaurant he took you to

still to this day you're too embarrassed to go back there.....

he absolutely lit up when he explained the exact second he fell in love with you when he woke up with you clinging to his arm, face buried in his neck, and just how beautiful you looked

dylan began rambling though when he was telling you about how much he actually loved you, and everything he did love about oyu

by now your cheeks were decorated with rolling tears

of happiness, duh

and it's when the box opened, dylan's hands still shaky

an exemplary sized ring sitting in the centre

with a deep breath, he asked, "would you marry me?"

and with an equally as deep breath, you replied...

"over and over again"

which means yes, by the way

congrats on 500!!! you so deserve it, i love your writing! 🤍 could i have “i’ve been flirting with you for the last six months, thanks for noticing.” with dylan pleaseeeee?

SEND ME A PROMPT FOR MY 500 SLEEPOVER!

**thank you thank you!!! such a sweetheart <3

“I’VE BEEN FLIRTING WITH YOU FOR THE LAST SIX MONTHS, THANKS FOR NOTICING.”

You watched as Dylan's head tossed back, the neck of his bottle funneling chilled beer into his mouth as he shot a lazy wink in your direction. The lively laughter mixed with tunes from indie rock bands created a quintessential atmosphere in the dive bar, only enhanced by the warm tones of the coloured downlights that accentuated the golden specks in Dylan's caramel eyes. You were both here for your friends' engagement; the party already a few drinks in before you decided to slip away to the bar. Your drunken state allowed you to feel the vulnerability easier to the point where it drove you to inevitable loneliness. It was hard when you were surrounded, quite literally, by love - an abundance of couples adorning the space in front of you with intimate dances, longing embraces, and tender kissing. It reminded you of how utterly alone you really were.

Dylan found your retreat for a stronger drink amusing when he slipped into the seat next to you, a smile that was so warm and familiar playing upon his lips. Your reasoning, however, caught his attention the most before his confession was released so nonchalantly, his calmness bringing a shocked expression to your facial features. You thought he was joking as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, tugging lightly to conceal the grin that began to creep between your cheeks. A soft giggle filled the air before your head shook, eyes flickering from the fiddling hands in your lap to his composed and complacent expression.

"You're kidding, right?" You queried in reply, glancing over the softness that stemmed from his eyes and the temperate smile that curled higher with each passing second.

Dylan chuckled before taking another sip of his drink, his tongue quickly darting out to catch any stray droplets from his lips. He placed the bottle down upon the bartop, next to the freshly poured concoction of spirits you ordered not too long ago. He was serious - he had no reason not to be, but the way your saddened composure changed so quickly to joyousness had him erupting with serotonin. It was his turn now to shake his head as he wondered how you couldn't see his advancements over the past few months. He was basically throwing himself at you. At first, the man considered you weren't interested before he realised that you were just simply oblivious. It made the sparkle in his eye for you shine brighter.

"I'm far from kidding." He started, dropping his elbow to the bench before sitting his cheek within the large palm of his hand. By now, Dylan was grinning widely, another spurt of laughter slipping past him in a drunken haze. He sighed, "I mean, fuck, you're gorgeous. And hilarious... some of the shit you say is just so fucking funny, truly. You're also kinda badass, and it's hot. You're hot. Why wouldn't I wanna flirt with you, seriously, I'd have to be stupid or something." His spare arm flailed in time with his wording, exaggerated gestures setting the scene as liquid courage sunk deeper into Dylan's system. You could tell by the glaze settling over his eyes that the hangover tomorrow would be a brutal one.

His tangent brought a deep rosh blush to your cheeks, a visual form of flattery as you looked away from the man in slight embarrassment. Evidently, you never knew of the characteristics that Dylan found so enticing, especially seeming that you never considered yourself even possessing such qualities. His intoxicated version of a silver tongue painted a picture of you that he found attractive, but you never saw it, maybe you weren't supposed to. Maybe... what Dylan saw in you was perfect for his eyes only.

A rare encouraged braveness prompted your eyes to glance back toward him, focusing primarily on the eyes that were the epitome of every doodled love heart ever drawn - they complemented the sincerity that graced his smiling lips, and together, you could see that Dylan O'Brien was very much being serious. He was looking back at you like you were the rainbow that graced his rainy day, additional to the newly light shoulders he carried after offloading just how he really felt about you. He was finding your reaction immensely endearing, and if he had slightly less self-control, he'd already have you curled against his chest as he held you within his arms.

"You never said anything, ya know, before now." The obvious was stated within a softened tone, your voice carrying until it was stopped by the glass pouring fruity flavours into your mouth. You felt looser, less constricted, as you continued to question the man, "Why is that?"

He was slowly becoming more liberated with the supplementary help of his near emptied beer bottle, the ideal usage of a filter for his words dissipating immediately as his comfort grew in your presence. Dylan bit his lip as he began to pick subconsciously at the label disintegrating from the moistened glass, his focus never leaving your face, "I thought you weren't interested at first, which was a major buzzkill, by the way. All that pining for nothing, but I couldn't stop it if I tried, and fuck, did I try." He sighed loudly, head nodding in the direction of your half-drunk beverage. He reached for it when your smile was provided as permission, humming in acceptance to signify that he liked what he was tasting. You didn't speak, noticing that he just needed an extra kick to continue his telltale explanation. He really was going to feel this in the morning now.

Dylan licked his lips, the glass returned to its rightful place at your side before he continued, "And then I saw the genuine smile you would shine my way when I spoke, and how you wouldn't shy away when I put my arm around your shoulders. Your eyes gleamed and you stood by my side, never leaving for anything. So, I began to think, maybe something really was there between us. A spark that needed igniting. But... I didn't want to force that on you, so I waited. Very patiently, might I add."

Your eyes rolled back, playfulness etching at the happy creases beside your eyes and growing grin that Dylan couldn't look away from. This newly profound information made your eyes metaphorically widen, opening to the signs that were missed, and the small compliments and tender touches that you had overlooked as plain friendly. The brief realisations were interrupted by Dylan's hand reaching for yours on the bench, his fingers sliding carefully over your skin and leaving curt fiery trails behind them. He was hesitant, but calmed almost instantly when you flipped your hand around for him to slide his fingers in between.

He took a deep breath, "Then I saw how sad you looked tonight. You thought nobody noticed, but I did. I always do. So I bit the bullet and decided that I was finally going to tell you how I feel, hoping that there's even the slightest possibility that you felt the same way in return."

"And what do you think?" You finally spoke, voice surprisingly steady as you gave his hand a soft squeeze as it remained encased around yours. "Do I feel the same way?"

Dylan blinked a few times as he assessed the situation, as well as he could due to the level of alcohol he'd ingested - you'd yet to run away, yet to object or reject his hand, your smile hasn't faltered and your eyes only harnessed more beauty than he'd ever seen before. Your focus was primarily stationed on him, watching carefully with the utmost forbearance.

Dylan exhaled in content, "I think you do. I really think you do."

Who Put That There? || Dylan O'Brien x Reader

Summary : Two friends experience the holiday magic of surprise mistletoe.

Words : 1.7k

Warnings : fluff, drinking, couple of swears

Notes : Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! gif credit [uknown / x]

Your eyes widened in childhood wonder at the array of Holiday decorations gracing every possible surface of Sarah's apartment. Green and red hues were most present, especially seen in the dancing lights bouncing off her living room walls; a perfect complement to the oversized tree in the corner and numerous eclectic statues of Snowmen and reindeer littered through the lively space. She always went all out when it came to this time of year, and you were glad, seeming that it was definitely one of your cherished happy places.

You lent casually against the staircase of your friend's living space, an arm tucked under your other as you nursed a half-drunk glass of spiked eggnog. The strong taste of bourbon slunk down your throat, the warmth from such an intense alcoholic beverage created a spike of fire in the pit of your stomach. Not only was decorations one of Sarah's strong suits, but she also spent a lot of time and energy providing her friends with constant refills of her favourite holiday drink. The atmosphere was one of a kind - the loop of popular christmas jingles and songs playing lowly in the background, only overtaken by the joyous chatter and laughter of the people you call your second family. If you could stay in this moment forever, then everything would simply be perfect.

The creeping smile on your lips faltered only slightly as your shoulder was nudged, eyes flickering to your side to see a lightly buzzed Dylan and his famous caramel eyes that you adored so incredibly much. Teeth sunk deep into your bottom lip, a subconscious action to accompany the small crinkles besides your eyes and alcohol-induced rose blush pinching at your cheeks. He immediately reciprocated your happiness before releasing a soft chuckle, his glass raising lightly in the air toward you before he took another long sip. Dylan sighed in complete contentedness, "This is my third glass, you know. Any more and I'll be hanging from the ceiling."

You chortled, a hand pressing lightly to your chest from the sudden burst of hilarity. A full display of your teeth showcased the elation you felt, catching the attention of your friend as he gazed between the squinting of your eyes and plushness of your faintly swollen lips. "That would be a sight to see, but something tells me that Sah really wants to get us drunk, you know? I didn't even reach the bottom of my glass before she was topping it up. She's being really fucking sneaky." Small indications of laughter rode along the end of your words as you spoke. You swirled the remaining liquid in your glass as you looked to Dylan, your eyebrow raising as a silent request for him to wait and watch.

I would be less than a minute later before Sarah stood before you both, the never-ending jug of eggnog in her hands managing to pour enough beige liquid to officially create your third glass. You nodded in thanks, Sarah snickering under her breath as she moved across to Dylan to copy her hostess duties. She made sure to enunciate that you two enjoyed your drinks before she left and Dylan's eyebrows shot upward, total shock etched over his features. "Holy shit, how the hell did you do that?" He wondered aloud, shamelessly taking another sip from his glass. He took his bottom lip captive as you so innocently shrugged your shoulders, and for a moment, he grew breathless at how angelic you looked among the flashing lights of your friend's Christmas tree.

You couldn't pinpoint whether it was the hard bourbon coursing through your veins, or perhaps they were; just twinkling a little brighter tonight, but Dylan's burnt-honey swirled eyes drew you in closer than you were before, the ability to smell the strong stench of your drinks now very much apparent as it wafted toward your dazed expression. It felt like magic when small specks of white glitter fell between your faces, a true Christmas miracle when the addition of a familiar green plant dangled above your heads - one that certainly had not been there earlier. You gulped softly, unknowing that you were holding your breath until it pushed through your lips with a small shake. Pieces of the puzzle were merging together in your mind until you shook your head at the realization of what was happening around you. "It's mistletoe. She got us wasted, so we would kiss under the mistletoe."

You didn't think it possible but Dylan's face grew brighter, his blushed cheeks now extending to the tip of his nose and chin. You could see the gears turn behind the widening of his eyes and the way his mouth fell ajar and stammered with his lack of wording, "Wh-who... who put that there?"His focus flicked between the hanging plant and the oddly calm expression you wore, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips the more he thought about kissing you - wondering how you'd taste, how you'd feel against him. Maybe it was the perfect example of a Christmas miracle and if the opportunity so willingly presented itself, then it just had to be taken. Dylan bit the inside of his cheek, now looking at you through the thickness of his eyelashes, "Then maybe we should, you know, kiss then." He placed the now empty glass on the bench beside him, his hands wringing in front of his torso, "Don't want bad luck, right?"

You managed a tamed giggle, nodding in accordance with his reasoning. You only just remembered the soft holiday tunes playing as an ideal backdrop, a kick of confidence for you to also place your glass behind you and take a step into Dylan's personal space. He didn't move away but rather leaned forward until your chests were nearly flushed to one another. The moment was quintessential for a moment of Christmas romance, internally praising Sarah and the existence of Mistletoe. "Definitely don't want bad luck." You hummed, nose nudging against his own before Dylan's breath hitched evidently in his throat.

You couldn't help but smile up at the man before cupping his cheeks gently, allowing your thumbs to rub under his eyes. By now, your own eyes were closed, lashes tickling Dylan's cheekbones, making his need for you obvious by the way he would brush his lips so shamelessly against yours - a friendly tease, a desire for more, pulling back only the slightest when you would lean in to chase him. It was a game that he didn't mind losing if it meant that he could finally just kiss you. He suddenly swore under his breath, a raspy and quiet 'fuck it' vibrating off the red-painted plumpness of your lips before he pressed forward. You moaned instantly at his dominance, hands still holding his face and involuntarily squeezing when he pushed harder against you. Dylan's hands gripped your waist as fingers flexed over the material of your dress, the sides gathering up your thighs as he tightened his grasp.

Your body slumped, melting at the taste of sweet eggnog and the warmth of bourbon still decorating the rim of his lips. You need more, you needed him ao much closer than just in your arms. You licked at the taste of Holidays on his bottom lip and he moaned in the base of his throat, lips parting for you to deepen your union. You were sure that you were going to turn blue, unable to breathe but not wanting to pull away until the last possible second. You could tell that Dyan felt the same as his hands harshly dragged up your sides and over your back, pulling you into him, regardless that physically you were already as close as you could get.

It was a relief and a loss as you had to pull back, heavy breathing from both of you now filling the small gap between your close proximity. You licked your lips, tongue running over their swollen complexion. A smile found its way between your cheeks at the thought that Dylan's would be just as plump, his face flushed entirely, your red lipstick smudged over his mouth so carelessly. It was exciting to think that the beating of your heart was just as rapid in his own chest - to think that this moment was flawless in each and every way. Dylan's breaths turned shaky as he laughed, dropping his forehead against yours, "Fuck." That was all he could muster as his blunt nails scraped down your back and caused welcomed shivers up your spine. He inhaled deeply, his upturned nose brushing against yours and along your cheek with utmost fragility, "I'm gonna have to get myself one of those things. Especially if it means I get to kiss you like that each and every time."

You hummed along to the song emitting from Sarah's speakers, gently swaying from side to side until Dylan's hips were moving in unison with your own. It made you happy, beaming toward the man, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. Your lips placed a tender peck just under his ear, the sound of Dylan moaning in complacency sounding so beautifully among the atmosphere surrounding you. "You don't need mistletoe to kiss me, Dyl. You just need to look at me with those big ol' honey eyes and I'm there. Promise."

It was quintessential in the way the acoustic music set the scene, coloured lights highlighting the strong cut of Dylan's jawline and the golden speckles in his eyes - even the simple intimacy you both adopted so quickly, already comfortable caught up within one another, the thought of leaving each other's hold becoming the last thing you'd want to do. It was perfect. Utterly, completely, absolutely perfect. Even when Sarah appeared by your sides, her presence was lost as you and Dylan continued to sway in your own bubble. She cleared her throat, a whine escaping from Dylan in reply as your head turned from his to face your overly happy friend. She looked beyond prideful, the smirk on her lips growing by the second.

Sarah sighed, "Like I always say, this eggnog is fucking magical."

Hi can I do a Dylan o brien where the reader is sick so he looks after her ?? X

Not so Healthy || Dylan O'Brien x Reader

Words: 612

Warnings: swearing and cute dyl

[GIF]

"Don't come near me." You warned, hand outstretched as your body shuffled back against the plush cushioning of the couch. You could barely see through the swollen puffiness under your eyes and the glaze of sickness causing everything in your sight to appear hazy; but you could see HIM, approaching you slowly. You huffed as you realized that you couldn't move back any further, your body stuck for an escape. A sudden thump of your headache behind your sinuses provoked your head to fall back and a loud groan push through your cracked lips. "I don't want you to get sick, Dylan, it fucking sucks."

You could hear him chuckle before his knees hit the hardwood floor beside the couch, his lengthy fingers splayed over your bicep as it rubbed reassuringly up and down your arm. Dylan dropped his chin to your stomach and peered up at you through his dark lashes, the honey swirls of his eyes instantly warming your insides as you peered down to him. He cooed softly, "Let me nurse you back to health, baby. I wanna help". His lips pushed into a soft pout, the fingers dancing along your arm now dragging over your neck and tracing your jawline. He knew that the delicate touches he gave you always managed to soothe whatever pain you were in, physically or emotionally - and you appreciated every second of it.

His cooing got louder as he crawled further up your body, his lips ghosting the curve between your neck and shoulder. You sighed in content at how such simple and dainty actions can minimize your pain, even in the slightest. Your sweet moment was ruined when a sudden sneeze shot through you, flying over Dylan's head before your hand flew up to cover any more from escaping. You groaned loudly before pushing his head down and away from yours, "No... no kisses, no cuddles. I'll be damned if you end up like this. You need to go sit over there..." You spoke sternly, your trembling finger pointing to the lone armchair across the room.

In response, he scoffed. Dylan pushed himself up with hands perched on either side of your body, an eyebrow cocked in a challenging manner. "And what if I don't want to? What if I want to kiss you? What if I don't care about getting sick, huh?" He bit his lip at your disapproving expression as he tried to hold in a chuckle at your added stubborness. "You need painkillers and water. I'll get you some soup, anything... but there's no way that I'm gonna let you suffer through this by yourself. Just let me help you. I'll even put on a sexy nurse costume, ya know, if that seals the deal..."

It was your turn to giggle like a little schoolgirl, head shaking and smile finally wide upon your lips. The image of your boyfriend dressed in a sexually provocative Halloween costume now burnt in the back of your mind and you silently thanked him for it with a squeeze of your hand over his. "We both know that that'd totally make me feel better. God, you'd look so hot..."

"Okay, calm down. Can't have you getting all aroused when you can barely stay awake right now." He quipped, squeezing your hand back. Dylan stood quickly and leant in to press a chaste kiss to your overly warm forehead, provoking a small frown when he pulled back again. "You definitely need meds. Then we'll cuddle and watch and movie and eat soup, alright? Maybe gazpacho." He gently pushed your hair back and grinned at your gracious expression.

"Thank you for being the best nurse."

gaze w/ dylan for the kiss me?

send me a PROMPT for a 'kiss me' blurb -

[ GAZE ] : right before the kissing begins, sender gazes at receiver’s lips, then back up at their eyes, waiting for them to make a move or give confirmation.

Small laughs were a constant interruption during your scene with Dylan, the chortles slipping from both your mouths every time you both got too close to one another. It didn't help in the slightest that the brunette man would purposely pull a childish face at you when your noses were close enough to touch - this time, in particular, was caused by the crossing of his eyes and tip of his tongue poking out at you. The director was playing along at first as he made small jokes himself about content for the gag reel, but fifteen minutes later and he was yelling CUT! like a broken record and rolling his eyes with a hidden smile ghosting his lips.

Dylan pushed out a lip-trill as a way to compose himself, his hands shaking out at his sides. You were only seconds behind following his lead until you were both sure that the zaniness was at a minimum. The director indicated that filming was resuming before your hands gently gripped Dylan's arms, the personality of your characters taking over once more as you stared up into his whisky-coloured eyes. Lines dripping with every possible essence of love fell so easily from your lips, almost immediately reciprocated from your partner's character. The scene was easily set and the mood grew swiftly between your flushed chests.

Your eyes focused on the plumpness of his lips - so simple, but so enticing. It was hard to remember that this was a scripted scene and not an invitation to jump on him for no apparent reason. The act of his tongue slipping out quickly to lick his lips broke your focus and caused you to drag your gaze back up to his. Your head tilted softly to the side as your eyes asked... dared... him to finish the job. In true Dylan fashion, the smallest of smiles tugged at the corners of his mouth and he leaned into you, pressing his lips to yours and scrunching his nose as he deepened it. The peck didn't last long as he pulled away, forehead against yours. It was time for you and your castmate to join once more in a union that was determined by the way his tongue dragged across the bottom lip of your red-painted smirk, and as if on cue, you allowed him access. He sunk entirely, his tongue dipping deep inside as if he needed a part of you to help him breathe.

It had to have just been acting, surely, but it was definitely perfect.

Love your writings!! Can you write something with airport from the kiss prompts please??

send me a PROMPT for a 'kiss me' blurb -

[ AIRPORT ] : after realizing their feelings for the receiver, sender sprints through an airport to kiss them before their flight departs. [DYLAN]

Curses of all sorts slipped from your lips as you dodged multitudes of people and their shadowing suitcases. It was an airport, of course it would be beyond crowded, however you still found yourself frustrated and surprised at how difficult it was to get from one side to the other. Time would have been kinder and your feet would have carried you quicker if you didn't have to stop and purchase a ticket to Quebec. You received odd looks when the only luggage you carried was a handbag, but the looks only increased in curiosity at the expression of worry and hastiness driving your sprinting movements. Breathing normally became a thing of the past - but it was more due to the fact that the man, who you pretty sure you love, was about to board a plane and disappear from your life for the next four months. He was going to leave you behind without knowing that you loved him too.

When you reached the screening phase of your Airport journey, you tried your utmost hardest to not let your anxiety seep through. It became difficult to cease the impatient tapping of your foot and unnecessary amounting of blinking; afterall, the last thing you needed was to be pulled aside and questioned for suspicious behaviour. The thoughts running through your mind was enough to make the guard in front of you snap their fingers, your eyes refocusing on the lady waiting for your passport to be shown - you didn't even remember moving onto customs. You were physically getting closer to your destination, but he still felt miles away. The lady spoke again after your passport was presented, "So, what's got you going to Canada today?"

You smiled sweetly as his image flickered in your mind, a soft rose blush tickling your cheeks and nose. You cleared your throat, "A guy. I mean, he's here, waiting for his flight. I have to see him before he leaves... gotta tell him something." The lady nodded, surprisingly in a knowing way. She asked you if this was a movie cliche and you instantly laughed at the unbelievable accuracy. Your life didn't feel like a romantic comedy, however, as the anxiety of Dylan thinking that you didn't feel the same way was more like life or death as your stomach twisted in knots. She eventually let you pass and you were suddenly jogging. Running. Sprinting. The opportunity to see him again got closer by each passing second, the gates to other waiting areas flying past you before you set sight on the one you needed. You managed a deep breath through your panting, but didn't slow down.

Dylan was seated in the back corner of the room, his familiar black cap swung backward and his pillow sitting upon his restless knees. You couldn't figure out how he was feeling as his usual readable self was hidden away. You were lucky that he was alone in bittersweet solace and not interrupted by excitable fans. Just being able to see the man allowed you to slow to a steady walk, eventually stopping a few feet away from him. You drew another deep breath, your bag slipping from your arm and dropping to the floor with a loud thump. He stirred but didn't look your way. You beamed brightly with curled fists by your side and wide hopeful eyes, your voice shaky but steady enough to express how you felt, "I love you too."

Dylan's eyebrows furrowed, his body remaining still as the cogs turned in his mind, wondering if your voice was real or just a figment of his imagination. Curiosity got the best of the man as he finally looked up and toward you. His jaw dropped slightly, eyes blinking in dubiety to determine if you were actually standing in front of him. He stood from his position and walked to you, his frame towering over your own, prompting you to lean back to look up at him. Dylan's eyes were squinted and voice hardly about a whisper, "Say it again."

"I love you. I love you too, Dylan."

The chuckle that escaped him was a sound that you could keep on replay, the joyous sound accompanying the growing grin between his cheeks. His large hands lifted from his sides and held your jaw oh-so-gently before he pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. The man bit his lip and hummed, "Did you just 'Casablanca' me?". The following nod of your head and tugging of your bottom lip as enough for him to release a whole-hearted laugh, his chest rumbling with happiness and vibrating against your own. His lips, this time, landed perfectly on your own pair before connecting with strength.

He didn't allow you to breathe - he didn't want you to, unless it was just of him. The setting was lost to you both as your hands dragged up his back and hooked onto his shoulders, anchoring yourself against him before your knees inevitably went weak. His tongue was dangerous as it pushed through your lips and took ownership of the other side, eliciting a gentle moan to gather in your throat. Wth now turned heads, the new angle offered to you was a blessing, emotion driving your senses crazy until you could devour him right there and then.

You almost missed the instructions on the loudspeaker that instructed passengers to board the plane, your hands now pulling back and pushing Dylan away slightly. You were absolutely breathless, "You gotta go."

He shook his head in disagreement, "No-"

"Don't you dare stay here and miss out on the filming opportunity of a lifetime. I would never forgive myself."

Dylan whined, evident conflict of his head and heart settling behind his eyes. His foot tapped anxiously on the tile flooring as both of your gazes followed the departing passengers; only a few, including yourselves, remained. "Then come with me. You've got a ticket. Just come with me, sweetheart."

You didn't need to think through your answer. "Okay."

Oh oh now I get it!! Well can I request the prompt “adjust”?

send me a PROMPT for a 'yearn for you' blurb -

[ ADJUST ] : sender adjusts an item of clothing or jewelry that the receiver is wearing, resulting in them being very close together. (w/ DYLAN)

You couldn't help the small laugh that fell from your lips as you watched Dylan scrunch his nose in annoyance from across the room. Although he looked immensely handsome when decked out in a full suit and tie, he still found it constricting and proper. What he would give to swap out his sleek black wingtips for his pink worn Adidas and his deep grey suit jacket for his oversized hooded jumper. He attended red carpet events because he was always proud of the films he partook in and he wanted desperately to show his support for the cast and crew involved - that didn't mean that he always agreed with the dress code, however.

As per usual, you were his date to the latest film premiere, which gave you the opportunity to dress up. Your temporary stylist finished pinning back your now curled hair, bouncy strands falling down to frame your face. You found yourself very fortunate to experience these moments of luxury, which is why you always expressed your gratitude to those involved. You faced the main sitting area of your hotel room, a wide grin present between your cheeks, eyes trained on Dylan as he shrugged on his jacket. His tie hung casually around his neck as he turned to face you, the sound of your clicking heels easily alerting him to your presence.

He released an evident sigh of contentedness, eyes not shy as they trailed down the flowing red dress you wore, the same colour as the intricate detailing on his tie. You could see the pride lighting up within his gaze, causing a rose blush to gather at your cheeks. Dylan always filled out his suits nicely; his jacket hugging his shoulders in just the right way, and of course, the fit of his pants perfect as they showed off a little shape. A chuckle left him as he bit his lip, "You look amazing."

"Says you." You chortled, scoffing at his compliment as if he didn't know just how much he looked like a gift from heaven. With long strides, you made your way across the room, your hips encased by large hands as soon as you were within his reach. Instinctively, he pulled you close to him, gazing over your facial features through his lashes, with a lazy smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. You could see the copious amounts of love seeping from him, and honestly, you could have died happy right there and then.

Your fingers danced along his jawline, his stubble scratching at them lightly before they trailed down his neck and landing on his tie. The silky material was a smooth contrast to the small hairs that graced his chin. The lopsided knot is what caught your attention next; it was obvious that Dylan elected to tie it himself, but luckily, you were there to help perfect it a little more. You worked carefully as you tugged and pushed, hands moving in all directions until you were happy with the adjustments you made.

"I love it when you take control like that." He mused, his still evident smirk attempting to get a rise out of you. The hands on your hips tightened into a brief squeeze before they trailed up your back, one hand's knuckles eventually dragging over your cheek and down your neck. "I meant it when I said you look amazing, by the way. You always do. I'm a very lucky guy..."

"And don't you forget it, O'Brien."

uuuuuuhhh, prompt requests open!!! Im going for escort with Dylan pleaseee!!!

send me a PROMPT for a 'yearn for you' blurb -

[ ESCORT ] : sender accompanies the receiver home late at night, in order to ensure they’re safe.

"You didn't have to walk me to my hotel, you know. I'm sure I would've been fine on my own." You mentioned, hands deep in your pockets as two sets of feet walked side-by-side along the wintery streets of Manhattan. A deep chuckle sounded beside you easily bringing a smile to your face, before a large shoulder was nudged against yours.

"Perhaps, but in all honesty, I saw the opportunity to escort a pretty girl through possible dangerous streets, so I took it." He spoke pragmatically, allowing a contented sigh to slip past his lips, a fog of condensation appearing in front of his face. It had been just over five minutes since you were saying goodbye to your castmates; the late Friday evening spent at a local bar destressing about the week with a few drinks and a few laughs. It was then that Dylan decided to continue his night by your side, insistent in walking you to your hotel as his New York apartment was only a little further along.

The thought brought a smile to your own face, accompanied by a gentle shiver of the growing cold atmosphere. Dylan caught your movement out the corner of his eye. With a forced clearing of his throat and nervous stretch of his fingers, the man turned to you, the whisky shade of his eyes waring you instantly, "You cold? Get under my arm." You gazed across to his now held-out arm, a further invitation to share his body heat as you cuddled into his side.

You nodded your head once before looking down, trying to hide the growing crimson blush gathering on your cheeks. Any form of hesitancy melted away as you moved closer to him; Dylan almost immediately tugging your smaller frame flush against his own, the comfort becoming enough for you to place your head against his chest as his large arm dropped to your shoulders. Molding into his side allowed you to feel safe from the impending vexatiousness of the cold snowflakes landing on your cheeks; the known danger of late night Manhattan streets that came a close second now fading away.

"You can be such a sap when you want to be." You spoke, the gentle tone of your voice posing as a welcomed interruption to your comfortable silence. Fingers tapped against your shoulder and his arm remained weighted, the small act of affection provoking a quirk of your lips and a bashful smile to appear between your continuously growing blush. You could feel his chest shake with laughter under your cheek before your threaded your hand in between the tapping fingers, "But it's sweet, you're sweet. I have a feeling you already know that though."

"Does it make me a sap to say that you're the one who makes me sweet?" Dylan retorted, his voice playfully nonchalant. The spark between you both was obvious; seen in the way you would tease each other, eventually ending with a severe case of flirtation and giddy happiness. Being in his arms even now was a regular occurrence - but it never went past the intimacy of your friendship - nervousness always standing in the way. His words resonated in your mind as you reciprocated his earlier laugh, nudging him as much as you could with your shoulder.

It was only mere minutes before your feet shuffled to a stop outside of your hotel room; Dylan was unwilling to let you go from the moment you left the city streets, to where he nuzzled his nose into your snowflake decorated hair in the elevator. Your eyes bored into his whisky-shade pair, your teeth absentmindedly holding your bottom lip captured. You glanced over to your unlocked door before back to the taller man, his facial features still contorted in a drunken-like haze of contentment.

You cleared your throat, "Thank you for walking me home... did you, I mean - did you want to come in? I don't think I'm ready for you to go just yet."

Dylan released a breathless sigh; as if he was holding his breath in anticipation, as if he was waiting for you to ask. The over-exaggerated nod of his head was an indication that he, too, wasn't ready to leave. His voice dropped, raspiness tickling the ends of his words, "I'm up for anything if it means staying by your side."

👼🏼 revealing a pregnancy with Dylan please love?

send me EMOJI PROMPTS for a ’blurb time’ blurb -

[ 👼🏼 ] : revealing a pregnancy.

Teeth sunk down into your bottom lip, a sure way to maintain an overly excited squeal as you glanced at the positive pregnancy test in the palm of your hand. The thumping of your heart reverberated against the casing of your ribs, hands quivering, eyes slowly becoming hazy with a fresh glaze of tears. The butterflies fluttering in your chest was a sign of nervousness but you still couldn't tire the widened smile tugging at your lips. You were currently perched on the edge of your couch with anticipation, and you were sure that telling your boyfriend of your pregnancy would be just as exciting as finding out yourself. Everything will be perfect.

You flinched in the slightest as you heard the front door click, familiar heavy footsteps of your boyfriend's boots echoing down the hallway. He called out that he was home, but you couldn't reply - your voice potentially wavering, and you simply wouldn't ruin the surprise. Your fingers fell deep into the pocket of your jacket, the test slipping between the fabric before you managed to push yourself from the couch. It wasn't until you saw the bright glow of his brown eyes round the corner, that you knew, that you wanted your unborn child to share the same beautiful hue.

Dylan's face immediately softened when he saw your frame waiting for him, arms held out to encase around your body and pull you flush against his front. His head ducked down to pepper gentle kisses over your forehead, his lips trailing up into your hairline. You could feel him hum against your skin and the simplest of actions have never made you feel so loved. "Hey, sweetheart." He murmured, taking his time to give you a gentle squeeze, his body rocking you both momentarily side-to-side. Your arms snaked out from between you to wrap around his back, hands flat and rubbing over his spine. He sunk with contentedness. "How was your day?"

You didn't mean to, but your body stiffened. The excitement from the past hour creeping over your exposed skin and leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake. You wanted to tell him, so desperately, but the way he pulled away from you and presented a look of concern made your elation somewhat deflate. Your eyes grew wide when you realised that there was a misunderstanding. You bit your lip again, the corners of your mouth still able to quirk into a smile as one of your hands cupped his cheek. Your head shook, "I have something to show you. It's not bad, I promise. I'm just... I really need you to sit down for this." You spoke, finding hilarity in the way Dylan's own eyes scrunched in confusion before he obeyed your request.

Unable to resist, you perched yourself across his lap, legs hanging over his left leg as his right arm circled around your frame to support you. Close proximity like this is what got you in this situation in the first place, but his comfort was too tempting. He was still baffled by the odd occasion but still leant in as you placed a slow and tender kiss on his lips. They remained pursed as you pulled away, chasing your own set before lifting into a playful smirk. "What's got you so affectionate?" He wondered aloud, chin dropping to your shoulder, eyes trained on yours.

You grabbed his left hand and gave it a tight squeeze before uncurling his fingers, your own eyes making sure that he wouldn't look away from your joint gaze. He was so utterly mesmerising to look at, to the point where you nearly dropped the test before placing it in his hand, pushing his lengthy fingers back over it. Gentle kisses pressed to Dylan's forehead before he pulled back, his eyebrow once again cocked with playful scepticism before looking casually at the object in his grasp.

It was sudden when his face fell into absolute shock. He didn't expect to see the test in his hand, and better yet, he didn't expect to see two large red lines dawning the result screen. His mouth fell ajar and rapid breaths began to escape him, his brown eyes glazed with a set of tears which only opened the flood works of your own. His head shook but it couldn't delay the growing width of his grin as he flashed an expression of exhilaration. You could feel his body shaking and it reminded you of earlier when the adrenaline was running through every vein you owned. He finally looked into your eyes, droplets that had gathered on his lash line now rolling down his cheek, "Are you serious? Are we having a baby?"

You nodded, letting your tears also run free, not wanting them to stop if it meant staying in this beautiful moment with your boyfriend. You moved forward to lock your lips again, his sweetness mixed with the saltiness of your tears, the depth of your union increasing when tongues swiped across one another. Moans of pleasure so easily blended with groans of happiness and unspoken moments of love. You released his bottom lip as it slid out between your own, foreheads now joined together, breathing patchy and laboured.

You gulped before nuzzling your nose against his, "You're going to be an amazing father, Dylan."

could you write something please with a reader being the mother of dylan’s son and like their son of 3/4 years ends up being really protective of his mom and jealous and like whenever dylan calls the reader baby or love their son also calls his moms like that. or when dylan starts to kiss the reader their son just broke their kiss saying no papa it’s my mommy and dylan tells him that’s he was there before him

Dylan O'Brien x Reader

The sound of a children's show played in the background as Dylan worked on his computer. His son's eyes, near duplicates of his own, watched as the characters sang and danced across the screen. He cherished the quiet moments like this with his family the most. He could hear you moving around in the back of the house doing something, the small tapping of Tony's nails against the hardwood floor as he followed you everywhere.

Dylan was always amazed at how quickly his life had changed over the last few years. His career was snowballing with jobs and roles coming in more than ever before. But his personal life was growing since he'd met you. He'd fallen in love, married, and how you both shared a son with the want to have more children.

The sound of footsteps caused his head to pop up and away from his computer, a small smile tugging on his lips as he watched you walk into the living room. No matter what, you always made his heart race and left him breathless.

"How's working coming along? Any good scripts?" You asked, walking around to sit on the couch beside him.

"A few, I'm marking the ones I like and sending them to my manager." Dylan set his laptop to the side before moving to face you more.

His arm stretched over the back of the couch the two of you sat on. Your son continued to play in front of the tv, his attention drawn away from the show still playing on the television. Dylan moved to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, kissing along the side of your neck, before kissing your lips softly. You giggle slightly against his lips - a noise that caught your son's attention.

"No...no...no..." a small child-like voice sounded, small feet rushing toward you.

Soon small hands grabbed at both your legs, making you pull away and look down at your son.

"Mommy...no, mine...my mommy." He whined and whimpered, reaching his hands out to you in a reaching motion.

Dylan couldn't help but roll his eyes and laugh as you reached down to grab your son. Since turning three, your little man has been in a new phase. A phase where he get's jealous any time Dylan shows you any sort of affection in front of him. He has a small little tantrum and always tries to pull Dylan away from you. All of you think of it as funny - except your son.

"My mommy," He pouts, his lower lip stuck out as he glared at his father. "No kisses."

"I can't kiss mommy?" Dylan asked. "Why not? Daddy loves kissing mommy."

"No! Mine!" Your son reaches over and wraps his arms around your neck and hugs you tightly. "Mine."

"Ok, baby, ok..." You rubbed his back softly. "Daddy is sorry."

"Can't even kiss my own wife." Dylan shakes his head and laughs again.

"I'm sure when the next one comes, she's gonna be a daddy's girl." You smiled, one of your hands reaching down to rub your slightly growing belly.

I mean since you’re asking……. 😈

Can we get some Dylan Halloween cuteness??

Dylan O'Brien x Female Reader

"You gotta sit still," You laughed lightly as you stared down at your boyfriend.

"I can't help it, it tickles," Dylan spoke with a light chuckle.

You shook your head and grabbed the eyeshadow palette and started darkening his mustache a little more, making it into the shape that you needed for his costume. The two of you were prepping for a Halloween party that one of your friends was throwing. Halloween was easily one of your favorite holidays, and dressing up was one of the activities you loved most.

Dylan's hands moved up along your waist as you stood between his legs at the kitchen table. A small smile spread across your face as you finished off.

"Done," You moved to set down the makeup brush, "Think you look sexy, baby."

Dylan stood and walked toward the mirror to see the work you'd done. There was a confidence that came over Dylan at times that was a little cocky. Normally, with other guys, it would be annoying. But on Dylan, it did nothing but turn you on. When he turned to you and that smirk turned up his lips, nearly instantly, your heart started racing.

He was a perfect Gomez Addams, especially after you used markup to darken his mustache and even add around his eyes. The Addams was the couple's costume you always wanted to do, but never had a partner to do with.

"Think the sexy one is you," Dylan slowly walked to you, his arm wrapping around your waist and holding you tightly to his chest.

He bent down and kissed you deeply, his hand moving down to caress your ass. You moaned softly against his lips and pulled on him tighter. When you pulled back away from him, you laughed at the red lipstick that had transferred to his lips.

"Let's get going before you have where we don't leave this house," You spoke as your thumb wiped away the lipstick.

"Yes, Mrs. Addams." He smirked, kissing you again, before grabbing your hand and leading you out to the car.

The entire time at the party Dylan couldn't keep his hands off of you. Always touch along your waist, and back, even a cheeky grab of your ass. Even when, at one point, Dylan was tipsy and his clingy handsy side came out a little more. His face moved to nuzzle into your neck, his lips pressing against your slightly warmed skin.

"Baby," You whispered softly, your hand moving to caress the back of his head, rubbing along his buzzed hair.

"Mmmm, taste so good," Dylan spoke with a slur to his voice. His face moved down to nuzzle into your chest. "Fuck, your tits look so good in this dress."

A soft giggle left your lips before he moved up and kissed you deeply again. His larger hand planning out over your side and his thumb reaching to rub along the side of your tit. You moaned softly against his lips as he pressed harder into you.

"Think it's time we head home, and have some of our own Halloween fun?"

Dylan smirked, his dark eyes shining with mischief before the two of you quickly left after saying goodbyes.

home (dylan o’brien x reader)

dylan’s been traveling for work and is finally home after several long month. you decide to surprise him at the airport. warnings: none  word count: 1.3k navigation a/n: um. yeah. brain vom. an anxiety induced blurb. enjoy. or don’t idc. also lol i’m dying this gif has no reason to be w this fic but I refuse to change it so.

You crack your neck, standing from your seat and taking another lap around the baggage claim. Your heart is racing, adrenaline coursing through your veins leaving you ready to bounce off the walls. It seems that you’re the only one anxiously waiting for someone, the few people lingering around suffering at the hands of the clock. It’s two in the morning, and usually that would make you a shell of a zombie. You’d be lying to say your eyelids weren’t heavy, your body aching for the comfort of your bed, but, it’s all overshadowed by the desperation to see him, to touch him, to smell him.

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Your Midnights (Dylan O’Brien x Female Reader)

A relationship with Dylan told over the course of four New Years Eve’s

Masterlist Word Count: 7.7k Warnings: None

Notes: yeah it is January 24th at 3:46 am… so what. I’m depressed and couldn’t finish a wip when I wanted to if there was a gun to my head. just pretend it’s a month earlier pls thx

December 2018

“Okay, who is that…” I questioned, my lips barely hovering above my glass, nudging Aly’s shoulder and nodding my head in the direction of the guy sitting on the floor petting one of the dogs.

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