i’m telling yall just imagine lying in bed with stiles; you’re on your back, he’s draped over you/your side. you have an arm around his broad shoulders, nails gliding up and down, side to side on his back over his grey shirt. your other hand is combing through those unruly brown waves on his head, they’re completely messed up from hours of just existing in one another’s presence. and stiles couldn’t ask for anything more than the soothing effect your touch has on him. the room is slowly getting darker over time, courtesy of the setting sun, allowing a gentle orange hue to be cast over his face, making the golden flecks in his brown eyes shimmer like little suns. he’s gorgeous— ethereal, even, while he lets his gaze settle in the path of yours. his eyelids are weighing down, then opening wide, then drooping once more. you’re always stressed about school or supernatural problems, but whenever he places his head near the curve of your neck and lets his arms hang over your body, there’s no weight at all. he’s practically engulfing you like one of those huge ten-by-ten blankets, but who needs a blanket when you have stiles?