Dylan O'Brien Imagines

You Matter to Me-Dylan O'Brien

Dating Dylan O'Brien has been an adventure. Dylan and I knew each other as children. We were best friends growing up, at least to him. To me, I wanted to be more. I started having feelings for Dylan back in the eighth grade.

We lost touch when he starting acting, but we ran into each other again when I moved to California to go to FIDM, the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandizing in Los Angeles. MTV came to a few of us seniors and offered internships.

I applied not really thinking I would get in, but ended up getting one of the higher up ones. I became the intern to the head costume designer for Teen Wolf.

Dylan recognized me immediately. He ran over and wrapped me in a hug. We picked right up where we left off, eventually starting to date. We were friends for the length of one season before at the wrap up party, Dylan asked me out.

Now here we were, three years later, stuck at the grocery store because Dylan was taking pictures with fans. I've never minded him stopping and taking pictures. I loved watching him interact with fans and seeing how excited they get when he agrees to take a picture or sign something for them.

I always stand off to the side, allowing his fans to get his full attention. Sometimes, I even take the pictures for them. Like you can imagine, many of them comment on how lucky I am to be dating him. Some do say that they think he could do better.

I try not to let their comments get to me, but I'd be lying if I said they never did. Whenever they would make a comment I would tell Dylan afterwards and he would always reassure me that it wasn't true.

But as time went on, more and more girls made those comments. He's been pretty stressed lately and I haven't wanted to add to it so I've started keeping them to myself.

I've been doing a pretty good job at hiding it whenever their comments sting but today a girl hit a nerve. Her friend was taking a picture with Dylan when she walked over to me.

"I'm sure people tell you all the time how lucky you are that you're dating him," she said with a slight valley girl accent. I smiled, unsure of how to respond.

"I think he could do better," she added.

"He probably could," I joked half-heartedly.

She grabbed my wrist, roughly turning me towards her. "Sooner or later he is going to realize what we all know; he can do a lot better than you. Once he finally realizes that, he's going to leave you. You are just a puppy following him around. He doesn't really love you. How could he love you?"

I gasped when she let go of my wrist and walked over to her friend. They each gave him one last hug before giggling and walking away. I cleared my throat and blinked my eyes a few times as he turned towards me.

"Sorry babe. We can go now," he laughed. He took my hand and I had to bite my lip when his fingers brushed across where the girl had grabbed my wrist.

"You okay?" He asked, concern lacing his voice.

"I'm fine," I said avoiding his gaze. "I'm just tired."

He sent me an unsure look before leading me to the car. He opened the door for me before walking around to his side. We drove home in silence, the radio being the only sound.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked after a little while.

"I'm fine, Dyl." I said finally looking at him. "Really."

"I don't believe you," he said glancing away from the road and at me. "I know you and I know when something is bothering you."

"It's not that big of a deal. I mean. . . It's just. . . It doesn't matter."

I gasped when Dylan quickly pulled the car into a parking lot. "What are you doing?" I asked softly. I looked over to see him gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"But it matters to me," he said looking at his hands. My breath got caught in my throat when he looked up at me. "You matter to me."

I quickly looked away when I couldn't hold in the tears anymore. Here is this amazing guy that I allowed some stupid comment from a jealous stranger make me doubt.

"Y/N," he said gently as he reached over and grabbed my hand. "Please, talk to me."

"Sometimes," I started. I cleared by throat when my voice cracked. I looked up at him to see him studying me with worried eyes.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough for you or that I'm not right for you because I'm not famous and. . . I'm just normal. . . I feel like you could do better and, sooner or later, you're going to wake up and realize that and then you are going to leave me and I. . ."

My voice broke causing Dylan to reach forward and cup my cheek in his hand, catching my tears.

"Not good enough? You honestly think you're not good enough for me? Y/N, I don't care that you aren't famous. I actually like that you're not because being around you helps remind me who I was before all of this. There is no one better for me than you. I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered. He leaned across the arm rest and pressed his lips to mine.

I felt butterflies in my stomach as our lips moved in sync. When we pulled apart, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry," I said into the crook of his neck.

"It's okay," he whispered, running his hand through my hair. "Now let's go home. The arm rest is stabbing me in the stomach."