Teen Wolf Imagines

Scott McCall (princess)

You know that you're adorable when you're tired, right, baby girl?" Scott had cooed affectionally one day during lunch while you were tucked away securely in his warm embrace, barely conscious.

Even though there was a table full of your guys' friends sitting with you outside in the courtyard, Scott's attention was primarily and solely on you; constantly checking to make sure that you were as comfortable as possible, that your head wasn't being craned too far to one side, or even that you weren't cold (How ironic).

Some would have found it overbearing and even a little obsessive, but to you it was adorable; Scott was adorable.

Rubbing small, delicate, circles along the perimeter of your back, he began to whisper sweet, little nothings in your ear, knowing full well that it helped to calm your nerves and lull you into sleep.

He didn't seem to mind the fact that you hadn't responded or mumbled something cheeky back like you usually did. Scott knew that you were exhausted, that you had stayed up the night before studying for an exam you'd taken just moments before coming to lunch. And even though he secretly wished he could hear the beautiful melody that was your voice, he was more than content with just holding you, practically being your makeshift bed while you got some rest.

Scott also didn't seem to mind the lingering stares from his pack, all teasing with their eyes. I mean how could he, when he had the most captivating thing, right there, in his arms?

"This is sickening to watch," Stiles, clearly annoyed, grumbled bitterly.

Despite the close proximity, Scott hadn't heard a single word that had come out of his best friends mouth, too occupied listening in on the soothing rhythm of your heartbeat thumping against his chest, one of the many reasons he enjoyed being a werewolf.

Observing the lovesick couple directly in front of him, Stiles was half tempted to kick the alpha's leg. Make his attention waver to something else besides you, even if it was just for a split second.

But before he could even lift his foot and take a swing, a fry was being launched in his direction, a glaring strawberry blonde the culprit.

"Don't even think about it, Stilinski," Lydia had warned, eyes squinting at the sarcastic spasm of a boy.

Stiles contemplated it for a second, wondering if it was in his best interest to piss both his best friend and the overprotective banshee off.

Then, quickly before Lydia could stop him, swung his leg and blindly aimed the blast at Scott's knee.

"Oww," A weak, groggy yelp had filled up the silence.

'Oh shit,' the lanky teenager cursed in his mind, upon realized it wasn't Scott he had hit, but (Y/N).

As if they had heard Stiles thoughts, both Lydia and Scott, in harmony, had yelled at the boy, "Stiles!"

"What the hell? You woke her up," Scott accused, glaring at his best friend in utter annoyance.

Why couldn't Stiles ever be still?

"Are you okay, princess?" He had suddenly directed his attention to you, caramel irises softening dramatically from seconds ago.

You blinked a few times, your eyes adjusting to the harsh rays of the sun beating down on you.

"Maybe we should take you to the nurse," Scott worried when you continued to be unresponsive. Hurriedly, he began scurrying up with you still in his arms, ignoring the bewildered looks he was getting from his friends.

Stifling a giggle, you buried your head in your boyfriend's neck, whispering words of reassurance that you were okay.

It had calmed him down enough, because he had relented and sat back down again. Although this time, his grip on your fragile body had tightened slightly more, if that was even possible.