Dylan O'Brien Imagines

It's A Trick// Void Stiles

You were with Sheriff Stilinski, at the station when his phone went off.

"What was that?" You asked curiously, looking over his shoulder.

Sheriff Stilinski didn't mind though, considering he's known you since birth.

"After Stiles started sleep walking, I put a camera in his room. I turned the motion sensors on a few days ago." He said, pulling up the video of Stiles' room.

Your breath caught in your throat as you saw him sitting on his bed, staring directly into the camera but it felt like he was staring right into you.

"We have to go get him." The Sheriff started to get up.

"No, we can't." You said, feeling the pain of the words as they rose in your throat.

"Why is that?"

"It's a trick," you said. "He's luring us into a trap."

"Right now, I don't care, that's my son."

"Listen to me, you remember when I said something about our past and the real Stiles emerged?" You asked, grabbing your keys.

"Yeah."

"What if I do that again?"

"Whatever works."

You two sat in silence as your drove to the Stilinski house you've entered so many times.

You creeped up the stairs before stepping into Stiles' bedroom, locking eyes with him.

"Stiles." You breathed.

"There she is," he smirked. "The famous y/n."

"Stiles, we need you to come back."

"He tells me about you all the time," he says. "Well, I learn about you."

"Stiles, you remember when we had that awful pregnancy scare?" you sat down beside him, tears threatening to spill. "That 15 minutes of straight agony as we waited for the results?"

He stared at you in silence.

"A few weeks later, I was getting dressed and happened to look at my stomach," you said. "And I thought, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I want to have kids with you."

"Not with this Nogitsune, you, Stiles," you cried. "And I need you to come back."

His eyes suddenly cleared as if a sense of familiarity hit him.

"Stiles, I love you."

He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours, the familiar feeling spreading through you.

These lips. They were his. It was Stiles.

You pulled back and wrapped your arms around his neck, digging your face in his neck.

"I don't know how much time we have." He whispered in your ear.

"Someone wants to see you." You whispered back as Sheriff Stilinski emerged from the doorway.

"Stiles?" He asked.

"It's me."

You chocked on a sob as you watched the son and father hug.