Dylan O'Brien Imagines

Director Dylan

a/n: so this is a request, but I want to try and reach goals and I know what you can do but i'll start easy :))) next update is 100 read and 8 votes, does that sound fair?? let me know in the comments! Also, this was a really great idea Ihina and I really hope you like it, i'm actually in love with this plot so i hope there is some justice served :))))) lots of love ((this gif makes me smile))

You groaned as you searched for the light of your phone. The blinking was the alarm you set for 3:30 because your director insisted that you should film with the natural light for a sunrise scene in your latest film. Not only that, but you didn't get to bed until late last night because he wanted to complete some extras for the 'special features'.

You were a talented actress and had worked on numerous films before now so you knew the routines, but he was pushing it. He was Dylan O'Brien, award winning actor turned award winning director. Everyone was desperate to be in one of his films, he was doing very well for himself in the industry and you were working for him. You were excited to be able to work with, well, that was until you realised he was crazy.

This wasn't the first late night and early morning he had called. Other than sleep deprivation, he would make you do scenes over and over again even though everyone else had agreed on the fourth or third take. He was constantly putting you in unnecessary situations for the film and randomly changing the lines if he thought of different ones. He would delay meal breaks and change your wardrobe in between takes. Essentially, he was a handful and a half.

You were not excited to get up to go to work this morning. Your mum has also called you last night, delaying the time you spent in your warm bed. You barely showered and brushed your teeth before driving yourself off to the set. You hadn't noticed your phone buzzing off the hook under the noise of the music you had on blast in an attempt to really wake you up. Just Dylan, you thought, scrolling through spam text all asking 'where are you' in various forms.

"Morning, Ihina! Wow, don't you just look like the sunshine," your stylist joked around with you, friendly nudging you with her arm. She had gotten to leave on time yesterday and there was an obvious difference between the two of you.

"Just cover up my bags," you whined, dropping your bags by your usual makeup chair and falling into the seat. She shook her head at the sight of you and whisked around to do up your face for the scene.

Once you looked presentable, you texted Dylan, alerting him that you were in fact on set and ready to shoot. Your stylist covered you in a robe and you were thankful that it was still dark so hopefully you wouldn't get the side eye from the director from hell.

"Bout time," Dylan waved his hands in the air at the sight of you. "Alright let's get started then." You noticed only one camera and light and no-one else there.

"What's going on? Where is everyone?" You pulled your robe closer to your body, the cool air nipping at your skin.

"This is a promo scene, I only needed you." He speaks, looking down at a clipboard.

"Well, where's the camera man?"

"I assure you, princess, I'm qualified." He remarks.

You think of the other times he had called you princess. He insisted that you did your own stunts and, naturally, you were worried about doing, but he sarcastically said "I forget your the director here, princess." Or the time when you asked to have no pickles on your burger and he said, "no need to be a princess."

You considered what your last straw would be. Just because he was an amazing director does not mean he could treat you with such a sour attitude. You considered letting it go, but you just couldn't.

"Why do you do that?" You called him out, folded your arms over your chest with an amplitude of sass.

His eyes grew with surprise as you held your ground. "Why are you so insistent on being so difficult? I've asked people you've worked with before and they all said you were amazing."

"Stop playing around, Ihina, let's get back to work." He tried to shrug you off, but he didn't seem to confident.

"No," you put your foot down. "I will not be treated this way, Dylan,not without an explanation."

There was madness behind his brown eyes as he dodged eye contact and flicked from corner to corner. It was just the two of you all alone in the room. He began to fidgeting with his slender fingers, standing quietly.

"Well?" You pushed.

"Ihina," he began, pausing for a moment after speaking your name. He huffed before sitting down on the floor. You knitted your eyebrows, confused by the sight.

"Ihina," he repeated again.

"What?" Your voice is stern as you grow impatient. He shakes his head and mutters something under his breath before speaking again.

"I like you," he admits, speaking very nonchalantly.

"Sorry," you think you've missed heard him and you can't comprehend what's happening. "You like me? Like as an actress?"

"Yeah, well, also as a person. I would really like to date you." He clarifies. His confidence has evaporated as he sits like a child on the floor. You stay silent waiting for him to disclose more information. "The late nights, early mornings, changing outfits, editing lines..." He lists off, "all part of a ploy too spend as much time with you as I can."

You stare at him, shocked at the news he's provided you. You honestly don't believe it. How could you? This man has practically been bullying you and it's because he likes you? Nothing makes sense to you and you find yourself sitting on the ground with him.

"So... You like me?" You're starting to find the humour in it.

"I'm serious, Ihina," he finally meets your eyes, but you're quick to look away. "When I heard you were auditioning, I couldn't wait to finally meet you, but you didn't really seem interested and I didn't know how to, like, repel my feelings."

"Why didn't you just tell me in the first place? Maybe I had liked you, too." You couldn't sit there and not admit that you didn't initially have feelings for him, he is the most gorgeous and artistic man in Hollywood, but you didn't think you would have ever had a chance with him.

"I'm not good with my feelings." He defends himself.

"Well let's try it out now," you suggest, pivoting your body to face his. "How do you feel about me, Dylan?" There's a cheeky hint to your voice and a wide smile as you look at him.

He rolls his eyes. "Well, Ihina," he begins, rubbing his hands together that you presume are sweaty, "I would very much like to take you on a date because you are the most wonderful woman I have ever met."

You find yourself a but taken a back from his confession as you weren't really expecting it. You gulp, nodding in affirmation. "Okay," you weakly say. "Let's ditch this scene and go get some breakfast."

"Sounds perfect, princess." He smiles like a child at Christmas. He throws himself up from the floor and reaches out for your hand. "I'm sorry about all that stuff I did," he nervously apologises.

"Stop talking before I change my mind, princess," you mock, eagerly taking his hand with your own smile.