Dylan O'Brien Imagines

Never Gonna Leave

"Are you okay?" You vaguely heard Dylan ask from outside of your head.

Your dad left when you were eleven, effectively putting a stopper in your mouth. In your head, you could hear him laughing, "Damn, if there's one thing she knew how to do, it was talk."

Things didn't come easy anymore. The words would build up at the base of your throat, desperate to break the dam, but still they'd catch halfway up, and find themselves wrapped around your heart instead, pressing down. When you were eleven, you didn't understand. Why did words seem to die when they touched your tongue? You saw yourself as a rotten old tree, too stubborn to grow, too stubborn to die. Nothing went in and nothing went out. You could whisper in your head that it's not your fault. There's a lot that went unsaid, you know? You could tell yourself something else went wrong; your leaves never saw the sun enough; your roots grew tired of looking for water that never came. Maybe he just didn't say, "I love you," enough.

You haven't really spoken in years, but maybe if you could, you'd tell Dylan how your daddy never loved you and that you haven't looked in a mirror in years and once you tried to cut out whatever it was that was growing inside of you and you've spent too much time staring at pills you won't take. Maybe he could tell, just by looking at you. You thought he must know by now.

Dylan placed a gentle hand on your arm, "Talk to me Sweetheart." He said softly, pulling you onto his lap. You didn't say anything, but you snuggled into his chest, placing your ear against his heartbeat, letting its steady palpitations lull you to complete consciousness. Dylan rubbed comforting circles on your back, softly pushing your hair out of your face as he murmured to himself, "I never should have let you go to there."

Ten years after your father left, just when you thought you were going to be okay again, your father decided to come back into your life, bringing along his new family with him. You were furious at first, how could he expect you to forget the last ten years? How could he expect you to forget how embarrassed you were at every daddy daughter dance, how unwanted you felt everyday of your life? How you almost lost Dylan because you refused to let him love you for a really long time. But he was your dad, and apparently that meant you had to forgive him. And you had forgiven him, you had a long time ago; holding onto something that dark, that bitter, would ruin your life all over again. But every time you visited him you had to completely numb yourself to get through dinner without breaking down.

"He's my dad, I have to visit him." You whispered into his chest.

You felt his chest move as he shook his head, "Y/N, you don't owe him anything. I think it's amazing that you were able to forgive him; you're absolutely amazing. But you don't have to keep going back there, you're an amazing person for forgiving him, but you don't need to keep him in your life." Dylan said softly, pausing every now and then to place gently kisses on your head.

You let out a shaky sigh, as you rubbed your eyes, trying to wipe away the ache building behind them, "I just, I feel like I have to make this work, because if I don't, it's like every relationship I've ever had and ever will have is going to end, and I feel like if I can't make this work than I won't be able to make anything else work. I know that it sounds stupid, but I just I need you and me to work, so I have to make it work with my dad." You said, speeding through your words so fast you were worried he wouldn't be able to understand you. All though you were also worried that he wouldn't understand even if he could hear you.

Dylan pulled away from you slightly, so he could look you in the eyes, he placed both of his hands on your cheeks, staring at you intensely, "Y/N Y/L/N, you and I are going to work because I am so in love with you and as long as you want me here I'm never going to leave. What happens between you and your dad has nothing to do with us, okay? You can't keep shrinking yourself down and doing things for him and call that love. " He said seriously, immediately pulling you into his strong embrace when he noticed that you had begun to tremble. He pulled you close, kissing away the tears on your face, as he murmured hushed, "It's okay"s, and "I love you"s.

"I don't know what to do." You said shakily, once your sobs had quieted down into whimpers.

Dylan placed a kiss on the side of your head, as he shifted you closer, "We'll figure it out." He murmured with his lips still pressed against your forehead. You smiled softly at him as an involuntary yawn slipped out. Dylan gently slid you off of his lap and onto your bed, slipping in next to you as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you close. "Go to sleep Sweetheart, you're exhausted." He said quietly, placing a finale kiss on your head before nuzzled his face into the back of your neck. You stared out the window, as you listened to Dylan's steady breathing, letting it lull you into a sense of security and safety that you only felt when you were alone with Dylan. You turned your head and glanced up at Dylan's sleeping face, his hair tousled and lips parted slightly, you smiled and turned your gaze back towards the window, staring at the twinkling sky. You had a good life, a good job, a cute apartment in a city that never sleeps, and the most wonderful boyfriend. You were so far from the daughter your father wanted you to be; there was a certain power in that.

Holllyyyy shiittt. If you guys are wondering why the fuck I'm so happy rn, check youtube.com/arewekukunow check his latest video and I'm in it!!!! I'm in the thumbnail and if you want to skip to me I'm at 2:02:32! Also, pll and swoozie liked (different tweets) I sent out to them. Swoozie already follows me.

AND MY LAPTOPS FIXED!!! I'm guessing, idk, lol.