I bounced my leg as Dylan drove to my parent's house. The radio played softly as we got closer and closer. Sure, my parents have met Dylan over Skype and talked to us hundreds of times over the phone, but this was the first time they were all meeting face-to-face.
Dylan and I met on the set of the first Maze Runner. He, of course, was Thomas. I was an assistant costume designer. Mainly, I would make alterations so the costumes fit the actors better.
Although we met during the first one, we were just friends. By the end of Scortch Trials, Dylan finally asked me out. We've been dating since. Now, they were filming Death Cure.
After hearing me talk about Dylan, my mother pestering me till she ran out of breath, I finally gave in and set up a night that Dylan and I could drive to my parents' house and have dinner.
"You okay?" Dylan asked as he reached over and grabbed my hand.
I nodded but stopped when I saw the look he sent me. "No," I sighed, looking down at our intertwined hands. "I'm nervous."
"That your parents won't like me?" He asked when I didn't continue.
"They are super picky about who I date. My dad is so protective that I never bring guys home. The first time I did. . . Let's just say the boy never spoke to me again."
"Y/N," he sighed. "I love you and nothing is going to scare me away from the woman I love."
He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. I smiled into the kiss as he reached up and cupped my cheek. We jumped apart when we heard someone behind us honk their horn. I laughed when I looked over to see the light was green.
Dylan pressed another soft kiss to my lips before turning back around and driving down the road.
My heart jumped into my throat as Dylan pulled the car into my parents' driveway. "You ready?" He asked as he put the car in park.
"I guess," I said softly as I rubbed my shaking hands on my skirt.
He leaned over and pressed a kiss to my cheek. "It's going to be okay. I promise. I love you." He leaned back and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "Should I keep the car running in case I need to run away?"
I playfully hit his arm as he sent me a smirk. He leaned in and pressed a small short kiss to my lips. "Let's go," he whispered as he pulled away and gently rubbed his nose against mine.
He got out of the car and walked over to my side, opening the door for me. He grabbed my hand and helped me out of the car. With our hands intertwined, we walked up to my parents' door. I smoothed out my skirt as Dylan rang the doorbell.
"Did you leave the car running?" I mumbled as I heard my mother say she was coming to the door.
"We're going to be fine," Dylan laughed as he gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
I jumped slightly, making Dylan hold in a laugh, as the front door swung open. "Y/N!!!" My mother squealed as she pulled me into a tight hug.
"Hi mom," I said between her excited squeals.
"I'm so happy you're here!" She pulled out of the hug as she continued to squeal, "I made you your favorite dinner, homemade lasagna, fresh lemonade, garlic bread, and Caesar salad. Oh! This must be Dylan!" I laughed as she practically pushed me aside to greet Dylan.
I held in a laugh as she pulled him into a tight hug. "Sorry," I mouthed as I sent him a playful shrug. Dylan sent me a smile as my mom rocked them back and forth.
"Well come in!" She smiled as she finally released Dylan. I smirked as she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. I followed them inside, closing the door behind me.
"Is that my Kitty?" When we heard my dad call me by my childhood nickname, Dylan looked over at me and sent me a smirk.
"Hi dad," I smiled as he walked into the hallway. I gasped as he wrapped me in a tight hug.
"I'm so happy you're home," he said as he squeezed me before letting me go. "I don't like this new job of yours. It takes you away and keeps you away."
"Dad," I sighed, trying to cut him off.
He kept going. "I know it's your dream job and you're happy, but you have to come home more. Unless you came home to give us a surprise. . ." He looked down at my stomach before glaring over my shoulder at Dylan.
"What? No, dad. I'm not pregnant. Work has just been crazy lately." I explained.
"Really?" He eyed me.
"Yes, sir," Dylan added. "Y/N got promoted. She isn't just a costume designer's assistant anymore. She's a costume designer with her own assistant."
"Really?" My mother squealed. "Oh, baby. I'm so proud of you!" I laughed as she wrapped me back into a hug.
"You must be the man who is keeping my daughter in that city."
My eyes widened as I turned around and saw my dad walking over to Dylan. "Dad," I started as I watched him cross his arms across his chest.
"Hello, sir. I'm Dylan O'Brien." Dylan introduced himself as he reached forward, waiting for my dad to take it.
I looked over at my mom with a nervous, pleading look. "Y/F/N. Honey," my mother said gently. He looked over at us, his arms still folded against his chest. He saw the look on my mother's face and my own before sighing. I let out a breath of relief as he finally shook Dylan's hand.
* * * * *
As we sat through dinner, I couldn't get myself to relax. My mother kept asking Dylan questions about himself and then my father would immediately twist his words. Surprisingly, Dylan was always able to restate what he said in a way my dad couldn't even twist.
"Honey, why don't you help me with dessert?" My mother asked.
"Yeah, Y/N, why don't go help your mother?" My dad said, looking between Dylan and me.
"I meant you, Y/F/N." My mother said, sending me a smile. My father grabbed our plates and went into the kitchen.
"I figured you might want a break from his game of Twenty Questions," she winked as she headed into the kitchen.
"I like your mom," Dylan said with a small laugh.
"Yeah," I smiled. "I get my normalness from her."
Dylan leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. I pulled away and sighed. "I'm sorry about all his questions. I told you he was protective."
"It's okay," he said as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "He loves you and wants to make sure I make you happy."
"You do make me happy," I smiled.
"Good," he leaned over and kissed me again.
"I don't want any of that in my house," my father said making us jump apart.
"Oh, Y/F/N. Lighten up. We used to be like that. Best friends, in love, unable to keep our hands off each other."
"You're making it worse, Y/M/N." My dad said. I sent Dylan an apologetic smile.
I felt myself relax as he reached under the table and grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze. As we ate our dessert, my father sent glares towards Dylan while my mother sent my father disappointed looks. Dylan wasn't paying attention to my parents' staring contest because he was too busy looking at me.
"Well, thank you so much for the dinner Mrs. Y/L/N. It was delicious," Dylan smiled as he started to clear the table.
"Well, thank you for making my baby girl so happy." She smiled, sending me a wink.
I looked over to see my dad rolling his eyes. I bit my lip as tears burned my eyes. I turned away, hoping no one saw. I looked over and saw that Dylan had noticed.
"Believe me, Y/N makes me a lot happier than I have ever been before." He smiled as he kissed my cheek.
"You mean, happier than all the other girls you've dated?" My father scoffed.
"That's enough, dad!" I yelled, the tears spilling over. "Dylan makes me happy. And if you can't see that. . ." My voice broke as I held back a sob.
My mother stood in the doorway, glaring at my father. Dylan walked over to me as my mother walked over to my father.
"Y/N," Dylan said softly as he grabbed my hands.
I heard my mother whisper to my dad. "What is wrong with you? He makes your daughter happy. That should be enough. Now, apologize."
I looked over Dylan's shoulder to see my father watching Dylan comfort me. "Dylan, can we talk outside?" My father said through gritted teeth.
I bit my lip, sending Dylan a nervous look, but was greeted with the smile that made me fall in love with him. "It'll be fine," he whispered as he kissed my cheek.
"You can help me with the dishes, Y/N." My mother said as she walked over and grabbed my hand.
My mother and I were quiet as we washed the dishes. I looked outside to see my father and Dylan sitting on the porch. "What are they talking about?" I wondered out loud.
"Who knows?" She said with a knowing smile. "Probably just men stuff."
* * * * *
Dylan's POV
My hands started to shake as Y/N's dad and I walked out to the backyard. He gestured towards two lawn chairs. I sat down on one while he sat down on the one next to me.
"Dylan," he sighed resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands together. "Y/N is my only child, my only daughter. She means the world to me. I only hope that the man who takes her away from me looks at her in a similar way. In a stronger way."
He looked up at me with knowing eyes. I cleared my throat before turning more towards him. "Sir, I am in love with your daughter. I love Y/N more than anything in the world."
"More than your job?" He asked, cutting me off. "If you were to lose your job tomorrow, how would you react? Would your reaction be the same if you were to lose Y/N tomorrow?"
"If I lost Y/N, I would lose everything," I said without hesitation. "I could lose my job, all of my friends, everything I have but as long as I had Y/N, I'd be okay."
I waited for him to respond but he didn't. He just stared at me, watching me. I cleared my throat as I continued, "Mr. Y/L/N, I am in love with your daughter. Actually, sir, I would like to ask you something."
He looked at me with a knowing smirk on his face. He gestured for me to continue as he sat back in his chair. I took a deep breath before saying the line I've been practicing for the last month.
"I want to ask for your permission to ask Y/N to marry me."
I held my breath as I waited for him to answer me. "I just need to ask you one thing before I give you my answer. What would you do to take care of her?"
"Anything," I said without hesitation. "I would do anything to make her happy."
I got nervous as he stood up. The second he was standing, I quickly stood up too. He reached his hand out for me to take which I did.
"Welcome to the family, Dylan." He smiled as he shook my hand.
"Thank you, sir."
"If you hurt her," he said, not finishing his sentence.
"I wouldn't dream of it," I said instantly.