Teen Wolf Imagines

Puppy Love - Stiles

"Who ate my fries?!" Stiles demands at the lunch table, looking around at all of you like you were murder suspects.

"I don't know Sherlock, why don't you use those keen detective skills of yours and figure it out?" you tease, eating from your newly heaped pile of fries.

Your boyfriend freezes, slowly turning to look at you, eyeing your food. "You're evil." He states, his grabby hands snatching handfuls off your plate.

You laugh, trying to fend him off when someone collapses down beside you on the bench.

"Hello." you smile at the beta who meets me with a great grin before also helping himself to your food.

"Okay what is this a community service?" You laugh, leaning back to look up at Stiles, who's frowning at Liam. But he covers it up quickly by smiling back at you.

"So," Liam starts, resting his head on your shoulder as he continues to eat your lunch.

"Mmm?" You smile fondly at him and feel Stiles legs tense. "You coming to practise?" Liam asks and you nod, "Of course."

Liam practically beams at you. "Great." The bell rings and Liam hurriedly grabs his bag. "I'll see you there!" He calls before dashing away.

"Come on." Stiles says roughly, grabbing your arm as he tugs you down the corridor.

"Hey, you okay?" you ask worriedly, looking at Stiles irritated face. He takes a deep breath before nodding, throwing in a smile as well.

You didn't believe him for a second but you nod anyway. You were gonna be late for history. You return his smile with a reassuring squeeze of the hand before sprinting to history, which of course was on the other side of the building.

Now if you're honest, you're not a massive fan of lacrosse. This game was so fast pace and dangerous that you were worried for everyone on the team, opposing or not.

But never the less, every one of the boys loved it so you attended every practise, listened to every team tactics meeting and went to every game, screaming yourself hoarse in the stands.

That's where were you the now, shivering on the metal stands, watching everyone stretch and warm up. You wave to them all and laughed at their responses. Scott waggled his fingers like a flirty girl, Stiles sent you love hearts with his hands and Liam blew you a kiss. What a bunch of idiots.

Practise was going like usual. Coach was shouting himself scarlet, blowing his whistle relentlessly at everyone. He had sectioned the team off, sending Stiles and Scott's group off to do cross country, much to Stiles horror and Liam was going one on one with someone twice his size and probably double his weight.

"Liam, be careful." You whispered and saw him nod, his werewolves ears picking up on what you were saying. Within a second of the whistle the other guy had practically thrown himself at Liam and with a loud crack Liam was thrown to the ground, flipping over at the sheer force that hit him.

"Liam!" you screamed, throwing yourself down the bleachers and running out onto the pitch.

His shirt was marked with dirt and his helmet had a dent in the back of it, from where his skull would have cracked off the ground had you not insisted he wear it.

"Oh my god, Liam?" you shook his shoulder and he groaned. You ripped his helmet off and underneath was a nasty cut across his forehead.

"You okay?" you worried, moving your hand through his hair and then cupping his face.

He nodded and then winced, like it caused him pain. He heaved himself to his feet and he almost fell towards you, snaking an arm around his waist to steady him.

"Go sit at the side Dunbar!" Coach yelled somewhat kindly at us. "And you!" He rounded on the guy who had tackled him. "You're almost as stupid as Greenberg!"

"Come on sweetheart, let's go sit down." You coax him as he limps to the benches.

He sits down shakily and you reach for the first aid kit, tucked away under the bench.

"Why aren't you healing?" you ask him as you go over the cut with an antiseptic wipe. He winces and says, "Scott says after the full moon that it takes longer to heal because my body has "wolfed-out"."

"Wow, really? I didn't know that." you say and he smiles as you wipe away more of the blood.

You talk more as you go between plastering his head with a bandage or leaving it. Or seeing the nurse cause you ain't a doctor.

You were about to ask him what he thought when a large shadow blocks out the sunlight and surprises you. It's Stiles.

His hands are on his knees as he struggles to catch his breath. He's very sweaty and you could see just how much running took out of him.

"Listen here," Stiles gasps, pointing shakily at Liam, "Listen here you little runt, quit hitting on my girlfriend." The sentence obviously takes a lot out of him as he goes back to gulping for air.

Liam's whole face goes scarlet as he immediately stares at the ground and doesn't make eye contact with me.

"I know your little "crush" is cute but my girlfriend," Stiles says, pointing possessively at you, "mines, my girlfriend."

You laugh lightly at him. "I already knew." you admit, looking at Liam who possibly blushed even deeper. "Hey." you nudge his arm and he finally looks at you. "I think it's adorable." you smile kindly at him and he gives you a shy look in return.

You turn around to look at a spluttering Stiles and grin reassuringly at him. "But I'm your girlfriend." you grab Stiles hands and squeeze them. He sighs in relief and leans in for a hug.

"Nuh uh!" you say quickly, retracting from him. "Shower, pronto!" you command, clicking your fingers in the direction of the changing rooms.

Stiles looks at me, huffily and you wink cheekily at Liam.