A girl with a passion for writting and teenwolf. ask box open all will be answered and written

  • Your sick and he takes care of you

    You get sick.

     

    Stiles:

    “Y/N? What happened, why aren’t you at school?” Stiles’ voice is rushed, words seeping together in an almost indistinguishable jumble. With everything that had happened in Beacon Hills, you didn’t blame him for immediately assuming the worst.

     

    “Babe, I’m fine.” You whispered over the phone. wincing as the words grinded painfully against your sore throat. “I’m just a little sick is all.”

     

    There was a brief bout of static wafting through the phone, Stiles had obvious let out a relieved breath. “That’s it?”

     

    “No Stiles, I’m passed out in the middle of Alaska after fighting off the abominable snowman.”

     

    “Oh haha very funny -”

     

    “Hey, you set me up for that one.” You could almost see Stiles roll his eyes and a small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth despite how bad you were feeling.

     

    “I’m coming over.” Your boyfriend announced abruptly, and cut off the call.

     

    It wasn’t but twenty minutes later that the door to your bedroom creaked open. “You awake?” He murmured, carefully crossing the threshold. You turned over in your cocoon of blankets to face the door way, lazily opening your eyes.

     

    “Not anymore.” With a heavy sigh you pushed yourself up against your pillows. “And for that you better have brought a good movie. Not one of those cutesy-feel-better-disney-movies, but an honest to god good one.”

     

    Stiles flashed you a smirk and pulled out ‘Limitless’ from his backpack. You gave a whoop before a coughing fit forced you to stop and fall back into the cushions.

     

    “Hey, hey take it easy,” Stiles was suddenly perched on the side of your bed, rubbing his hand in circles on the small of your back. “Even you need to take it easy once in a while Y/N.”

     

    You leaned into him murmuring a defiant “No I don’t.” In a pathetically weak voice. You felt Stiles’ chest rumble as he laughed.

     

    “Of course not. So don’t mind me as I put in this movie and snuggle the crap out of you.”

     

    “Ill try.”

     

    He chuckled again, set up the movie and climbed into the queen size bed, slipping under the duvet. You felt his arms wrap around and pull you into him, holding you securely and planting a soft kiss on your head.  

     

    Derek:

    “I’m going to need a rain check.”

     

    “What? Why? Is it the meatballs? Because we can order a pizza its no big deal. Or - or do you want to go out because we can also totally-”

     

    “No, no.” You cleared your throat roughly. “Its not the food, I’m just not feeling the best.”

     

    “Oh.” You gave Derek a minute to compose himself as your rolled your eyes. He was so caring it was almost unbearably cute.

    “Okay, so chicken soup it is then.”

     

    “No, no I’m not getting you sick.” You argued definitely, reaching miserably for another tissue.

     

    “Werewolf equals immune Y/N.” You heard him chuckle. “I’ll be over in a bit.”

     

    When the call ended you smiled to yourself. For all the protesting there was nothing worse than being hopelessly sick all by yourself.

     

    True to his word, your boyfriend was over, wrapping you up in blankets and carrying you downstairs to the living room in no time. Settled on the couch he proceeded to  double -check everything so that you were nothing less than comfortable.

     

    Once you were completely settled, somehow emptied an entire tissue box, and only dregs remained at the bottom of the soup bowls you felt sleep tugging at your eyelids.

     

    “Derek?” You mumbled, letting your head droop on his shoulder.

     

    “Hmm?”

     

    “Can you tell me a story?”

     

    You glanced up and saw a tender expression softening the werewolf’s face.

     

    “I would love to.” He responded softly, dropping one arm around your shoulder protectively.

     

    You fell asleep to the lulling sound of his voice and the soft beat of his heart, feeling better than you had all day.  

     

    Liam:

     

    It happened in fourth period.

     

    All day you had been feeling crappy, spacey and dead tired. But that you could deal with - just keeping your head down in all your classes and preserving throughout the day.

     

    And then the fourth class.

     

    You didn’t even dismiss yourself, just bolted. Out of the classroom, down the hallway and banging through the bathroom doors. Collapsing down on your knees, you heaved unceremoniously into the toilet.

     

    “Y/N?”

     

    Despite what you were doing, you were wracked with a sense of doom. The last thing you wanted was Liam to see you like this. It was absolutely disgusting.

     

    “Y/N!” He was closer to the stall now, his voice progressively growing more panicky.  Before you could shout a simple ‘go away’ you were hunched over hurling again.

     

    “It’s okay.” You sensed someone drop down to your left, your hair being tugged back. He murmured calming things as you emptied your stomach, completely unflinching.

     

    When you finished you ducked your head, ashamed. Your forehead gleamed with sweat and the stall stunk. It was all beyond embarrassing.

     

    “Feel better?” The lacrosse player inquired softly, soothing back the hair from your face. When you tilted your head up you saw his eyes gleaming with concern.

     

    “Yeah.” You stuttered. He helped you to your feet, one hand cupping your elbow for support.

     

    “I’m walking you to the nurses office.” Liam announced, pushing the door open effortlessly, his gaze not leaving yours. “Then I’ll pick up the rest of your stuff from History.”

     

    “Thanks.” You croaked, a small smile tugging at your mouth.

     

    “Of course.” There was a brief silence. “Anything for you Y/N.”

     

    The heat rushed to your cheeks. Despite the mess you most definitely were right now, Liam always seemed able to make you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

     

    Scott:

     

    The pack meeting had been going on for about an hour now. The werewolves had gathered at Derek’s loft, tempers running high as multiple theories were proposed and discounted concerning the benefactor. The longer they discussed, the less everyone seemed to know.

     

    “There must be a way to track what’s sending out the messages.” Stiles argued for about the billionth time. “The messages appear personalized, wouldn’t that mean the benefactor himself is sitting behind the keyboard?”

     

    “Not really,” Lydia countered across the room. “He could have someone else responding, or it actually is just a program. If it is a program that means its heavily heavily guarded - so if getting to it doesn’t kill us, we still wouldn’t have made much progress. The benefactor would simply set up another program and just keep up the list.”

     

    “Exactly. Go after the guy in charge.” Malia chimed, nodding toward Lydia.

     

    “But the incentive is the money!” Derek cut in, unabashedly. “We should focus our efforts there!”

     

    I leaned against a table as everyone argued, attempting to ignore the pounding in my head. Around me, the room swam and everyone’s voice echoed at an uncomfortable volume. I let out a soft sigh and attempted to steel myself. This was important. I couldn’t just miss this.

     

    “Y/N?” Scott dipped his head, meeting my eyes with concerned ones. “You alright?”

     

    “Fine.” I swallowed. “I’m good.”

     

    Scott wasn’t deterred easily. Ignoring the debate, his moved closer, easing one hand on my forehead. Immediately his breath hitched.

     

    “You’re burning up.”

     

    “I need to stay.”

     

    The alpha raked his fingers through his hair, blowing out a breath. “I don’t thi-”

     

    I suddenly stumbled, bracing myself more forcefully on the table as the world began to swim.

     

    “Okay, nope.” Scott was at my side, wrapping his arm securely around my waist and taking a bulk of my weight. “Relax, I got you.”

     

    I digressed, leaning into my boyfriend and focusing on steadying my breathing.

     

    “I’m taking her home.” Scott announced. “You all should go to, we’re not making any progress tonight.” Everyone hushed before nodding their heads in reluctant agreement.

     

    Stiles moved forward, concern etched in his features. “She okay?”

     

    Scott sighed. “I don’t know.”

     

    We made it to the parking lot before he scooped me up bridal style and carried me to my car. The werewolf was gentle, lowering me into the passenger seat and securing the buckle. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel as we drove, non-discreetly checking on me more than he did the road.

     

    “Scott, I’m fine, really.” I attempted to assure him as I slipped out of the car unaided. But all of the composed, self assured and tough alpha composer had long since evaporated.

     

    “I don’t like how high your fever is.” He argued softly, his hand hovering  behind my back as we walked. “Just let me take care of you for once.” His brown eyes brimmed with concern. “Please?”

     

    “Okay.”

     

    He guided me to my bed, and then sped off to locate the tylenol. After I had taken the medicine he crawled into the bed with me, clutching me tight against his chest like he was scared I’d slip away from him.

     

    “I love you.” I murmured into the darkness, relaxing into his arms.


    “I love you too.” He nuzzled into the crook of my neck. “So, so much.”

    119 Notes
    #stiles stilinski
    #Scott McCall
    #teen wolf
    #teen wolf imagines
    #teen wolf preferences
    #derek hale
    #dylan o'brien
    #dylan sprayberry
    #liam
    #Tyler Posey
    #tyler hoechlin
    #sickness
    #sick
    #this might hurt
    #hurt
    #comfort
    #fluff
    #cute
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