Dylan O'Brien Imagines

Research// Stiles

You were new with the whole werewolf thing.

So was Stiles, so one night, you and Stiles started doing research.

Printing everything out, the constant whirring of the printer filled the room all night as you laid on the floor, highlighting everything you thought was important.

You woke up the next morning, the printer still going, highlighter was all over your face, the cap was still off when you fell asleep.

You looked over and saw Stiles sleeping with all his weight basically on his face and you bursted into a giggling fit as you looked in the mirror, seeing pink highlighter covering your face.

It was 4:40, so you decided to go back asleep. You stille had three and a half hours before you had to get up. You shrugged off your face and went over to Stiles.

"Hey, Stiles," you whispered softly, rubbing his back with your hand.

"Hmm?" He hummed back, not opening his eyes.

"Get in bed." You smiled tiredly, pulling him up and helping him in bed. He slides into the middle of the bed, hugging the pillow to his chest. "Move over."

You push him over, sliding into bed, his back pressed against yours.

He turns over, his arm hanging over your waist, you pressed fully into him. His face resting in your neck.

Your eyes drooped, falling slowly asleep, the warmth of Stiles' body sinking into yours.

Then the sleep took over, the soft whirl of the printer filling the room.