Dylan O'Brien Imagines

When?// Dylan

You were so angry when you found out that Dylan had smoked.

You were only angry because you felt like you had been betrayed. 

You're father died from lung cancer, from smoking. 

Watching as he slowly withered away in a hospital bed. 

Watching as he took his last breath.

It almost broke your heart when you saw Dylan smoking.

He was coming home today. 

You had that excitement pumping through you, but also a little disappointment. Maybe a little anger. 

He came in, dropping him bags by the door before running over to you and picking you up. He spins you around before setting you on the ground.

He leans in to kiss you but you could smell the cigarettes on him. You turn you head, his lips hitting your cheek.

"Y/n, what's the matter?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"When?" You asked, taking a step backwards.

"When what?" He asks, taking a step forward you.

"I can smell it on you, c'mon I'm not an idiot, Dylan."

"I'm confused."

"Smoking Dylan, I can smell the cigarettes. You know how I feel about smoking."

"Oh shit, y/n, I'm sorry. It's an absentminded thing." He puts his hand on your forehead.

"I lost my dad to that shit." You snapped.

"I'm sorry," He says, coming towards you again. "I really am sorry."

"I know, shit, I'm sorry," you sat down on the couch, holding your head in your hands. "It's just that, these things killed my dad, I don't want to lose you too."

He sits besides you, putting a hand on your back. "I know, you won't. Hey, look at me. You won't."

You smile softly as he leans forward and presses his lips to yours. You cringed and pulled away.

He chuckles and apologizes. "I'll go take a shower."

He gets up and gets halfway up the stairs when you take off, running up behind him.

"Mind if I join?" You smile as you take your shirt off halfway to the bathroom.