Dylan writhed on the ground, convulsing. Gasping for air but getting none. In the quiet of the room were just choked whimpers. Tears falling fron his eye that stung from imaginary smoke.
He couldn't breathe.
He couldn't take this.
"I tried to warn you." A voice spoke. Through the haze of pain, Dylan saw a... ghostly figure of a fox in front of him. Just sitting there. Mist all around her. Eyes giving nothing away.
The boy tried to plead, for help, to make it stop. Tried to cry out. But nothing was heard.
"Right in front of your face. I told you. Multiple times." The others eyes narrowed. "You'll die again and again and nobody can stop that."
"Were my signs not clear enough? My whispers? My repetition?"
Dylan started to feel worse, flower crumpling into themselves. No. No no no. He knew what was happening. No. No no. Not again. Please. His claws scrapped the floor, choking. Eyesight blurring. Why was this happening? There were no physical wounds!
"You must find your will. The darkness has it's hold, but you are not stuck."
"H-h-hel-help-"
"Help yourself."
The spirit merly watched as the light from Dylans remaining eye slowly faltered, fighting. But not hard enough. His convulsing slowed. His shakes slowed. His panicked breathing slowed until it stopped. A last draw...
Author: @harringtonstilinski
Characters: Dylan O’Brien x Reader
Word Count: 2621 (a little longer than what i wanted, but oh well)
Warnings: angst, little fluff, christmas elements? hell, i don’t even know at this point anymore.
Requested: “Could you maybe do 14. “You look amazing tonight.” With Dylan where you guys are broken but he can’t hold it and makes out with you?”
A/N: Hi, friends! Here’s part two. I hope you guys enjoyed these little parts. I know the first part didn’t have the requested prompt, but this part will, I promise. Everything that’s mentioned about getting high and/or drunk, I’ve never experienced. I simply placed it in the story for... the story. Uhm, -clears throat; I’m sorry. Please don’t unfollow me. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊
~~~
“It wasn’t my choice!” he yelled.
With tears streaming down my eyes, I packed up the clothes I had stashed over at his house for when I stayed the night. “Yeah, I’m sure it wasn’t.”
“(Y/N/N), it wasn’t!” he said. “It’s the studio, it’s what they want!”
I scoffed. “Ya’know, Dyl, I really loved you. I really do, but this--” I turned around with tears streaming down my cheeks, gesturing between the two of us. “-- I don’t think we can get through this.”
Taking a step closer to me with his hands out, he said, “Yes, we can! We’ve gotten through a lot; me filming Teen Wolf and that movie. We can get through this.”
“I’m not sure that we can,” I cried. “I don’t give a shit about the studio wanting it. It’s the fact that you didn’t tell me.”
“Then who did?” he asked.
“Who the hell do you think, Dylan?” I yelled. “She’s only been after your dick since the moment you two met!”
“No, she hasn’t,” he tried to defend. “She was only--”
“Being friendly?” I said. “No, Dyl, no.”
“Stop calling me Dyl,” he said.
“She was only being ‘friendly’ to jump on your dick,” I said. “And why should I stop?”
“Please unpack,” he said, tears in his eyes.
“Why?” I asked. “Why should I?”
“Because I love you and you love me.”
“Not according to the studio, we don’t,” I said. Grabbing my bag off his bed, I sighed one final time. “This is going to be the last time you’ll ever see me.”
“Please don’t quote Twilight to me,” he said.
“I’m not,” I said. “I’m being for real. You can talk about me in interviews, with your friends, during panels at ComiCon, but-- just don’t contact me anymore.”
“Baby--”
Taking the few steps I needed, I reached up and placed my hand on his cheek, catching the tear that had escaped with my thumb. “I do love you, but I can’t be ignored by a big studio and also be told by your co-stars that I’m never gonna amount to anything. I can’t handle that. You’re built for this industry. Me, not so much at the moment. I’m sure we’ll find each other again.”
“(Y/N/N)--”
“I love you,” I said, pressing my lips to his one final time before walking around him and out his bedroom door. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, seeing my dad talking to Dylan’s dad before I walked outside and into the car, waiting to driven to the airport to fly back home to Florida.
Once I got home from the airport, my best friend came over and stayed with me for a few hours while I cried my eyes out.
“What happened?” she asked. “Did you guys break up?”
I nodded, sobbing into her shoulder. I couldn’t speak, or rather I didn’t want to. I didn’t trust my own voice.
My phone kept ringing while she was there, her telling me that it was Dylan. I just kept telling her to ignore it. He’ll text me if it’s that important.
~~~
To answer your question, no. I didn’t really date anyone after that. I mean, I was 18 when that happened. I wanted to focus on myself and getting into college, which I had no troubles with. I had transferred from UCLA to UF for theater, so it was no trouble at all.
Once I had done all four years and graduated at the age of 22, I was well on my way to becoming a tv/movie actress, something I’ve dreamt of since I was about 10 years old.
If you’re wondering about Dylan, yes. I’ve watched his films and every single episode of Teen Wolf. I had gone back to LA after graduating in hopes of finding some work, which I failed at. I was mostly with my dad on sets a lot, but the one that I loved being on was, ironically, Teen Wolf.
My dad still produced the show, and tried to keep me away from where Dylan would be filming. I may have called and left him a very angry voicemail once while I was high in college.
“Don’t do it,” Olivia said. “It’s not worth it.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, popping a chip into my mouth. “Of course it’s worth it.”
“Dude, you broke up with him,” Melody reminded.
“I know that,” I said. “But reports came out not long after that that he was already in another relationship. So, giving him a piece of my mind is something that needs to be done.”
Grabbing my phone off my bed, I quickly looked for Dylan’s number, tapping on it and bringing the phone up to my ear, getting his voicemail.
“Dylan, you’re very lucky I’m high as shit right now and I got your voicemail because I’ve got some choice words for you, buckaroo. One, getting into a new relationship right after we broke up? Not cool, bruh. Not cool. And with the girl that hates my fucking guts? You’re kidding, right? AHEM! Cleared my throat. Two-- what was my second point?-- OH YEAH!
“Two! Thank you for saying kind words about me in your interviews. I know shit’s been getting out about us not being together anymore, but who the fuck cares, right? I don’t. Nope… I just got really sad. Uhm-- I’m gonna go, and none of that was what I wanted to say. Uhm, I love you and wish you the best. Bye, Dylan.”
I hung up the phone and placed down on my bed, turning my head to look at my pillows. “I, uh, I’m getting sleepy,” I said, looking back to my college roommates. “I’m not in the mood for anything else tonight.”
“Okay, love,” Melody said. “We’ll go back to the living room.”
I nodded my head, grabbing my phone. I cried myself to sleep that night, looking at the pictures I still had on my phone of Dylan and I.
A piece of history that I just couldn’t erase.
~~~
It’s been almost three years since I left Dylan that voicemail. I didn’t really want to keep up with his career, I couldn’t help but do just that. I was at CitiField when he threw the first pitch while he was promoting American Assassin, a movie that made me fall back in love with him.
One of the very last times I remember seeing Dylan was at the LA premiere of Maze Runner: The Death Cure. I feel like if he were to have seen me, I wouldn’t have been able to control myself and just walk up to him and plant a big fat one on him. He looked damn good in that blue suit that night.
I’ve been told that with him being with Britt, though, that he never stopped loving me, never stopped being in love with me. Made me feel like shit.
Once word about their breakup hit the media, I couldn’t help but feel a little sad about it. Part of me blamed myself for them breaking up, but knowing I shouldn’t because I had nothing to do with that. She got what she wanted in the end; Dylan. She got Dylan, and I’m the one who had a broken heart for seven years.
Yes, I’ve been on dates since I broke up with him, but they just didn’t stick.
Breaking up with him all those years ago is something that I deeply regret doing. I wish I could take it back, but knowing that I probably won’t or can’t take it back made me regret it even more.
I still hung out with his friends that ended up becoming my friends when him and I were together. Granted, it was while he was off filming something, but still. During those times, one of his friends would come to my house and hang out with me so I wouldn’t be lonely. She was awesome.
I also still talked to Julia… a lot! We’d talk every day, if not every other day. She was still like a sister to me and I couldn’t have been more than grateful.
It seemed like since the night of The Death Cure premiere, Dylan and I were like magnets to each other; wherever I went, I saw him. But before he could see me, I would either duck behind someone I was with or turn around and run the other way. I did see him during Pride Month with his buzzcut. I swear it was like I woke up in 2010 seeing his hair that short again.
I had gotten a job offer to work with Jordan Peele on Weird City, but remembering I had seen something about Dylan getting a role for the YouTube series, I respectfully declined.
His friends had invited me to spend the weekend with them in Malibu for his and one of his friends birthdays, but again, I declined.
I couldn’t see him, I didn’t want to see him, and one of his friends had told me that it broke his heart to hear me say that.
Yeah, well, it broke my heart to leave the one person I was deeply in love with when I was 18.
~~~
It’s Christmas now, well, a few days before, actually. I was currently on the phone with my best friend back in my hometown.
“I’m serious, Amanda,” I said. “I got invited and so I went and now I regret it.”
She sighed on the other end. “(Y/N/N), don’t regret going. You said you had fun, you took some pics on the carpet and with that giant Bumblebee figure they had.”
“Yeah, I did have fun, I had a great time, but I saw him,” I said. “On the fucking carpet. I dodged out of view right as he turned his head in my direction-- fuck, where is it?”
“What are you looking for? What are you looking for?”
“This red sweater thing that has a quilt-y type pattern to it,” I said. “I bought it the other day when I was out with Dyl’s mom.”
It was quiet on the phone for a moment before I realized what I said. “I guess seeing him here and there’s bringing back memories.”
“And that’s okay,” she said. “He was your first love. You guys were together for a long time.”
“A-ha! Found it,” I said, setting my phone on the bed. Putting the sweater on, I continued with our conversation, “Anyway. I got invited to this Christmas party by a couple of Dylan’s friends. They said he wasn’t gonna be there, but I don’t believe them.”
“And you’re still gonna go?”
“Amanda, have you known me to not go to a Christmas party?” I deadpanned, picking my phone back up and heading into the bathroom. “Besides,--”
“And if he is there?”
I sighed. “Then I’ll be a big girl and deal with it. Even if I have to ignore him all night.”
“What if Britt’s there?”
“Nah, they broke up months ago. Hey, I’m gonna FaceTime you. I need your opinion on something.” I hit the FaceTime button, waiting for her to accept it before I grabbed two scarves off my counter. “Left or right?”
“Right.”
“Cool, ‘cause that’s the one I was gonna wear anyways.”
She chuckled, and we chatted for a little while longer while I did my hair and makeup. My hair was down and loose waves, and my makeup was pretty light weight and natural.
Once I put my boots, watch, and pearl stud earrings on, I was ready to go. I grabbed my scarf and made my way out of my house and into my car, driving to where the party was going to be held. I was a little late on a count of LA traffic, but all in all, I made it.
“Hey! You look great!” one of Dylan’s greeted, hugging me.
“Thanks,” I greeted back. “Traffic was a fucking nightmare.”
“I’m sure it was,” she chuckled. “Hey, listen--” she put her hand on my back, walking me further into the house. “I know we said that Dylan wasn’t going to be here tonight, but--”
“Y’all lied?” I said.
“How’d you know?”
“I saw his car outside. Plus, I may or may not have gotten a text from him saying he hoped to see me tonight-- hey! How are you?”
“Well, just don’t hate us for lying,” she said.
“I don’t yet,” I chuckled. “I could really use a drink, though.”
After going into the kitchen and retrieving my favorite wine, I walked back into the living room, and stopped dead in my tracks at hearing that laugh that I still fucking love to this day.
“Hey, (Y/N/N)!”
All eyes turned to me as I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment, but a pair of whiskey eyes were locked with mine. I sheepishly smiled and ducked back into the kitchen, where I stayed most of the night.
“Let’s recreate some pictures!”
Everyone who agreed hollered, trying to rein everyone in the living for the photos. The boys did one of theirs from high school where they smiled super big. The girls, including me, did one of us just smiling at the camera.
The one I was dreading doing was the one where all the ‘couples’ posed together; the girls on the boys backs. I tried to back out, but was ultimately made to recreate the photo.
Yes, Dylan tried to talk to me. No, I didn’t really say anything back other than, “Let’s just take this stupid picture.”
Little did everyone know, I had that exact picture of just me and Dylan in my sock drawer, and still looked at it from time to time.
After the photo was taken, I walked back into the kitchen, leaning my hands on the counter and taking a few deep breaths.
“Hey.”
Picking my head up, I tried to will the tears away. “What do you want, Dyl?”
“Can’t we just talk?” he asked.
I scoffed. “About what?”
Feeling him behind me now, I turned my head over, seeing him in my peripherals. “Us,” he whispered. “I’ve missed you like fucking crazy.”
“Yeah, well, join the crowd,” I whispered back. I turned around just as he was backing up, and started my walk to the sliding glass doors to head outside, but once I got about halfway there his voice stopped me.
“You look amazing tonight,” he said, loud enough to where everyone in the room turned their heads to look at us, phones out.
I turned around and faced him, tears in my eyes. “So do you.”
Knowing exactly what was going to happen next, I raised my hands as soon as he got close enough and cupped his cheeks, our lips meeting.
With his hands on my waist, he pulled me closer to him, one of my hands going from his cheek to the back of his neck, playing with the hairs that sat there.
When the need to breathe came over the both of us, we pulled apart, pressing our foreheads together.
“God, I’ve missed that,” he whispered.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered back. “I didn’t want to end us, but I didn’t know what else--”
“It’s okay,” he said. “But let’s not talk about that right now. Right now, I just want to hold you, call you mine again.”
“I was already yours again the moment our eyes met a little bit ago,” I whispered. I looked at him as he gave that smirk that could kill if at all possible.
If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.
~~~
*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski.
All characters, story lines, and plot aside from Reader and her storyline & plot, are all of the work and life of Dylan O’Brien.
*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.
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