Teen Wolf Oneshots

Drunk - Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Scott McCall, Liam Dunbar, Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Stiles Stilinski and (Y/N)
Word Count: 698
Warnings: alcohol?
Pairing: Stiles x Reader
Summary: you help a drunk Stiles
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I roll my eyes as I read over the text from Scott, Stiles's werewolf friend, asking me if I could pick Stiles up because he's too drunk to do anything. I run my hand through my hair in annoyance before grabbing the car keys for Roscoe and driving to the club I know they went to.
Stiles, Scott, Liam, Isaac and Derek all went out for a guys night out, just to let loose. But they seem to have forgotten that unlike them, their human friend Stiles is much too capable of getting drunk. And that's why I haven't bothered to go to sleep. I knew I'd have to deal with a drunk Stiles sooner or later.
I pull up next to the entrance of the club and step out of the car. Immediately, I'm hit with a strong smell of alcohol, which is far from pleasant.
"(Y/N)! Thank God you came. I was beginning to think I'd have to carry him." Scott shouts from one of the alleyways, which is where I go. Stiles is leaning against the wall, hands on his knees, and a massive smile on his face. The four guys are surrounding him, making sure he's alright.
I send a quick nod to the guys, telling them I'll handle it from here. Stiles is an extremely simple person, god bless. So there shouldn't be too much hassle.
As I walk towards Stiles, his head snaps up and his eyes widen, like he's seeing a ghost.
"You are pretty." He grins a little, but immediately after his mouth turns into a big O.
"Not as pretty as my girl though. She could kick your ass, missy." Stiles points at me with his finger, before looking at his finger and laughing to himself. I swear, I'll never understand what goes on inside of the mind of a drunk person.
I take a step forward and place my hand on my boyfriends back so I can lead him to his jeep, but he swats it away and stumbles to the side.
"Hands off the goods missy. You can look but not touch, that's the rules of window shopping." Stiles slurs, hiccups a little, and sends a wink my way.
I sigh in defeat. This is worse than I thought it would be.
"C'mon stud, let's get you in the car." I groan a little and begin to walk towards his beloved jeep.
Stiles looks at me like I just murdered someone.
"I am not a prostitute, madame. I am a high class male species and I will not be objectified." Stiles shouts at me, before stumbling to his jeep and getting into the passenger seat. Why did I even let him out with the bunch of them? That was a recipe for disaster.
I get behind the wheel of the jeep and start driving to our house.
"Don't tell my girlfriend, but I cheated on her." Stiles puts his finger in front of his lips and makes a 'shh' sound.
My heart skips a beat, and I look at the man next to me with wide eyes. Did he just say he cheated on me?
"W-with who?" I can't help my voice shaking a little. I swear I am going to leave his ass out in the middle of nowhere.
Stiles giggles like a little school girl before leaning in a whispering in my ear.
"Roscoe."
I have to refrain myself from punching my boyfriend square in the face, and instead opt out for squeezing the wheel tightly. The asshole almost gave me a heart attack, and he was seconds from being thrown out of a moving car.
"You're drunk Stiles." I mutter as I speed down the deserted roads of Beacon Hills.
He rolls his eyes. "I am not fucking drunk."
Stiles sounds like a stubborn child, which is amusing.
"Oh really? Can you tell the time?" I challenge him, and point to the little watch sellotaped next to the radio.
Stiles clears his throat, before looking at the time.
"I am not fucking drunk." He mumbles.
I have to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing at him. I can't believe that this is the man I chose to love.