Prompt: Drunk Texts

Word Count: 3055

Pairings: Sterica, Scallison (mentioned)

Notes: OH man this is basically nothing but the fluffiest fluff you will ever fluffin' read.

Erica is 98% sure that Stiles is drunk right now.

Her phone has been going off ever three minutes with the most inane questions she could have ever imagined, ranging from "thIS guy just tol me teh Avengerrrs sucked so i poked im" to "ur the best lookin babe in the land."

Erica doesn't really know what to do with that. Her phone buzzes again.

"u eemind me o Lady gaaa."

She sighs. "Lady Gaga? Why?" she sends back.

It's the first text she's answered since he started texting her an hour ago.

"aw! u do care :3"

Erica grimaces, because there's not much she hates more than that stupid cat emoticon. She tells him as much.

"w ever. the music is like u. boom boom boom"

"I'm like boom, boom, boom?"

Stiles normally texts in shorthand, but he's mashing the wrong keys all over the place, clearly. That, or he just called her, "beuatigul lik gafa's voice" Frankly, it should not be cute.

"Okay, dweeb, where are you?" she texts him.

"not ur biznes"

"C'mon, let me be batgirl."


She sighs, tugs on her jacket, and walks down the hall to ask Derek for his keys.

"Noooo," Derek says slowly, staring at her with narrowed eyes. "Not after last time."

"I had to run over the leprechaun, Derek," she says, rolling her eyes. "I'm just going to pick Stiles up. He's drunk." She waves her phone at him, just as it buzzes.

Derek frowns at her. "So?"

She opened the text. "do u think flamingos evr wish they wer blue?" she reads aloud.

Derek grimaces.

"He's been texting me like this for an hour, Derek. I can't get my homework done." Erica crosses her arms. "I know we let Scott's little gang of misfits do whatever they want now, but can you please acknowledge that we're all pack and that Stiles might be in trouble?"

"He's not in trouble." He doesn't deny that Scott and Stiles are pack, though.

Her phone buzzes again. "im tired, erica," it reads.

Erica scowls, tucks it into her back pocket, and says, "I'm going. I will walk if I have to, but I am going to get him."

Derek nods. "He's at the Jungle," he offers, and Erica nods back tightly.

"I guess I'll be home later," she says, and she leaves Derek's loft, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket.

Derek's loft isn't in the best part of town, and no less than four guys catcall at her. She flashes smiles full of too much teeth when she looks at them, and they back off, mostly. One of them tries to touch her arm, but she shoves him backwards. He backs off.

If there's something good about being a werewolf, it's that she doesn't have to be afraid of the average guy any more. That's nice.

Stiles is still texting her the whole time she walks. She could run, but she figures as long as he's still texting her, it's no big deal.

"this songs gud. its that nananana one"

"So every song ever," she texts back, rolling her eyes.

"noooo the one that gos dah dah dah DAH nananana"

"Are you alone, Stiles?" she sends.

"Scallison makin out on the floor"

"Agh, too much information." She's almost at the Jungle now, and yawning. It's been nice to get away from her thesis paper, but she's trying to finish college soon. Being kidnapped by the alphas and then escaping and hiding out for a year really put a wrinkle in her school plans. The rest of the pack had already graduated, and she was still stuck in Beacon Hills community college.

"ikr. at least ur not seein it. btw did you"

She frowns at her screen and waits for the rest of the message to come through, but when it doesn't, she falls into a run and covers the rest of the distance to the Jungle in a matter of minutes. She dials Stiles' number when she arrives and hopes he picks up as she sneaks around the back to get in. She has an ID but she'd rather not stand in line, and Scott had shown her the back entrance a while ago.

"'Lo?" a sleepy voice says when the call picks up.

"Stiles!" she shouts. She's inside the club now. "Where are you?"

"Mmm," he says, and she groans. Of course he's a sleepy drunk. A sleepy, texting drunk.

She can't sniff him out or hear him, not with this insanity. There's so many bodies moving around, and the scent of sweat permeates the air, making her grimace.

She starts to push the crowd, shouting "Stiles!"

A drag queen hooks an arm around her waist and pulls her close. Erica let's the queen maneuver her into dancing for a moment as she searches the crowd for a gangly kid for a while. Still having no luck, she leans up and asks the drag queen if she's seen Stiles. For some reason, the drag queens at the Jungle are all enthralled with Stiles (and okay, she totally, totally gets that. Stiles is enthralling.)

The drag queen gestures behind Erica, and Erica hugs her in thanks before slipping over to the booth she'd been pointed to.

Stiles is slumped over in the booth, phone still pressed to his ear. When he sees her he grins at her. "You came to party?"

She shakes her head. "Stiles, I'm here to take you home."

"Nooo," he sighs. "M'having fun."

"You're sitting at a booth, alone," Erica says, frowning.

He stretches his arms out to her. "C'mere, c'mere."

She's going to regret this.

Erica slides into the seat next to him, makes him sit up, and takes his drink away.

"Hey," he protests as she downs it. "Was drinkin' that."

She shakes her head at him, and he mimics her, until he starts giggling and just wobbling his head.

"You're like a small child," Erica tells him, and Stiles just slumps over onto her shoulder, curling his arms around her. She sighs. "Where's Scott?"

"Dunno any more," Stiles says. "Don't care."

Erica sighs again and pulls out her phone to text Scott. "Taking Stiles home." She shakes Stiles. "Come on, let's go."

"You wanna dance?"

"Yes," Erica says, smirking at him. "But not here. Let's go outside, so it's just you and me, okay?"

"Okay," Stiles says happily. "Let's go." He takes Erica's hand as they climb out of the bench, and swings their arms as Erica pulls him across the floor. He giggles every time someone grinds into him.

Eventually, she pulls him outside, and they keep walking. For now, Stiles seems satisfied with slumping onto her shoulder as they walk, and she thinks he's forgotten about her promise to dance with him. It wouldn't surprise her.

They've only been walking for five minutes when Derek pulls up along side them in the Camaro. He rolls down the window and offers her an apologetic smile. "You were right," he says.

Erica shrugs and smiles back, a little relieved, because drunk Stiles texts a lot but doesn't say much. It's such a strange difference from his normal personality, and it's completely disconcerting.

"To the loft?" Derek asks once Erica and Stiles are settled in the back seat.

"Yeah," Erica says, and she starts carding her fingers through Stiles' hair.

By the time they pull up to the loft, Stiles has fallen asleep, face tucked into Erica's neck.

Derek pulls Stiles out of the car so Erica can get out, and starts to carry Stiles up the stairs.

Erica lets him. She could have carried Stiles up by herself, but if Derek wants to feel like a good alpha, she won't stop him.

And Derek is a much better alpha now. He listens when she has a question and let's Isaac voice his opinions without immediately shooting them down. And Scott is carefully warming up to him, which really, is the only direction those two could have moved.

It was also just really nice to have a place to stay. Her freshman year, she'd stayed at the dorms, hated every second, and then begged Derek to let her move in.

Her mother had flipped, but her dad had given her the go ahead, and argued with her mother for an hour.

It wasn't like Erica hadn't been expecting it. Her mom was a helicopter parent, and it was only thanks to her dad that she'd ever been able to do anything.

On Derek's shoulder, Stiles stirs. "'Rica?" he mumbles, and she steps forward to take his hand. He squeezes her fingers. "Thanks," he says, and dozes off again.

"Where do you want him?" Derek asks, an she's not sure why he's asking her all these questions, like Stiles is her responsibility.

Well, part of it is probably that she was the one who walked across town to get him. "My bed is fine. I can work on homework in there so he won't worry if he wakes up."

Derek nods and carries Stiles into her bedroom. He sets him gently on the bed, and as he leaves, tugs Erica into a hug. "You're good," he tells her.

She leans into him, because sometimes she feels like Derek is just waiting for her to leave all over again, like he doesn't—can't—trust her, but right now, right here—she tries not to cry. "Thank you," she says.

There's a brief pressure on the top of her head, like maybe Derek pressed a kiss there. It's such an amusing image that it brings a small chuckle out of her, even as she blinks back tears.

Derek leaves her alone with Stiles then, and she picks up her laptop to start working on her thesis work again. She works for an hour before deciding to go to sleep, satisfied with her progress, and then nudges Stiles over until they can both share the bed. Because there is no way she's going sleep on the floor for Stiles.

Okay, she totally would, if she thought he'd have a problem with it.

Her cell phone buzzes in the morning, waking her up. Sleepily she grabs it off of her night stand and reads the text.

"bright n here," she reads.

Her phone buzzes again. She opens the new text message. "Thx for last nite"

She rolls over to see Stiles flat on his stomach, face mashed into the pillow. He has one arm extended above his head, and he's texting blindly with one hand.

She's impressed.

Yawning, she rolls onto her stomach and curls an arm around his waist. "Sure thing, Batman," she says, and kisses his cheek.

When she gets up, she pulls her curtains shut and brings Stiles aspirin and coffee. "You can't sleep all day," she texts him as she walks out of the room.

"Want to," he texts back.


"does that mean u love me ;)"

"no, but walking across town to pick you up from a gay club does."


She doesn't answer that one, choosing instead to pour herself a bowl of raisin bran, the only cereal Derek allows in the loft. Once, Isaac managed to sneak in a box of crunchy raisin bran, and Derek only let it stay when Isaac pointed out that there was actually less sugar per serving.

Erica still can't figure out why Derek hasn't just completely switched to that.

Her phone buzzes again while she's pouring milk. "love u 2"

She huffs out a laugh and shakes her head. "Not like you to get that drunk. What's up?"

"nuthin 2 worry ab"

Yeah, right, she thinks, but she drops the issue and focuses on eating her cereal before it gets soggy, as bran flakes are wont to do.

Later, she'll go back into her room and start working on her thesis again, but until then, she reads a novel on the Kindle Derek bought her last year for Christmas. She studiously ignores her text books, also on the e-reader. She has a big chunk of Kant to read for the philosophy class she'd taken out of boredom and regretted the entire time. It's due Monday, and it's only Saturday. Kant can wait.

She ends up finishing the novel in an hour, and just as she's starting a new one, Stiles walks into the room. "Food me," he says.

She points at the cereal box.

"Derek still hasn't bought Lucky Charms?" Stiles pouts.

Erica levels him with an incredulous look.

"Okay, yes, he's very stubborn, but I was hoping you and Isaac had worn him down."

"No way," she replies. She turns back to her Kindle while Stiles pours his cereal. She's just reading about which faction Tris will choose when her phone buzzes.

She stops and looks at it and then raises an eyebrow at Stiles.

He stuffs his face with raisin bran.

She sighs and opens the message.

"I read thru my texts 2 u last nite. sorry 4 bothering u so much."

For some reason, she chooses to text back. "It's okay."

"nah. u dont need it," he texts.

"need what?"

"me botherin u."

She rolls her eyes and looks up at him. Out loud, she says, "Stiles. You don't bother me."

"Oh, so I wasn't distracting you from your thesis?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow incredulously.

"Uh, nah," she says, pointing at the Kindle. "I can clearly do that on my own."

"Yeah, but still," Stiles sighs. "Sorry. I know I can be pretty obnoxious."

Erica nods slowly, and looks back down at her Kindle. When Stiles turns his attention to his cereal again, she picks up her phone and texts, "i like that about you, dweeb."

When he reads the text message, Stiles kicks her under the table. He texts back, "well i was 4 real about u being the prettiest ;)"

"Prettier than Lydia?" she sends back, hiding a smile.

"the prettiest in ALL the land :P"

She sets her phone down, not bothering to hide her grin any more. She kicks Stiles under the table. "Well, you're pretty, too."

He beams at her and winks.

"So," she says, shutting her Kindle off. "You gonna tell me why you got so drunk?"

"Just a mistake," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "You know, to entertain myself."

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, whatever."

He finishes his cereal. "Do you think Derek will give me a ride home?" he asks sheepishly.

She shrugs. "I can always steal his keys."

"No way," Stiles says. "He'll kill you."

"Uh-huh," she says. Actually, he might. She reconsiders her plan.

"Stiles can walk home," Derek says from the other room. "And if you steal my car I'll make you run patrol for a week."

"We don't even run patrols," Erica complains.

"What?" Stiles says.

"Derek," Erica explains.

"Exactly," Derek continues. "So don't you dare."

"Derek's not going to give you a ride."

"Werewolves," Stiles mutters irritably.

Erica scowls at him. "Rude."

"Present company excluded."

"Hmmph," she says, pouting. And then, "I could walk you home."

"To protect my honor?" he asks, batting her eyes.

"Well someone has to," she says. "Scott would just leave you to get drunk in a booth."

Stiles shakes his head. "It's not like that. I told him to go dance."

Erica sighs. "Right, well, my offer still stands."

Stiles shrugs. "Nah, I'll be okay."

She nods. "I should work on my thesis," she sighs.

"Yeah," he agrees.

"Text me when you make it," she says.

"Okay," Stiles says. "Sure." And then he's leaving, and Erica is sitting alone at the table.

"Right," she mumbles. "Thesis."

Later, her phone buzzes. She feels like Leo DiCaprio, surfacing on the beach in Inception as she pulls herself out of her research. She opens the message.

"I hav the worst crush n the world on u."

For a second, she can't believe Stiles sent that, and thinks it was someone else. A wrong number.

But no, that definitely has Stiles name on it.

"Are you screwing with me right now?" she sends back before she can really think about it.

Her phone doesn't buzz again for five minutes, and when it does, it reads, "wasn't sposed to send that 1"

She swallows and tugs on a strand of her hair. "Why not?" she types back, and then erases it. "Are you serious?" she sends instead.

The reply is immediate. "Do u want me 2 b?"

"You started this," she shoots back. "Don't make me do all the legwork." And then before she can stop her self, she sends a single word. "Yes."

Her phone is silent for a long time after that—or maybe it's just been a few seconds. it feels like forever. Finally it buzzes, and she presses so hard on the button to open the message that for a second she thinks she's broken it.

"im the most serious ive ever been" it reads.

She presses a hand to her mouth. She doesn't know what to do, but finally she sends, "So you're looking, now?"

He texts back, "Ive been looking 4 a while."

She grins into her hand, saves her thesis, and flops back into her bed. There's absolutely no way she can go back to work on it now. "Good," she sends finally.

She gets a smiley face in return.

"Are you home yet?" she sends.

"Nope. Almost."

"Can I convince you to spell out ALL your words when you text me?"

"Nt a chance"

Erica giggles even as she's rolling her eyes. "You did that on purpose."

"only 4 u. ;P"


"Mmhmm luv u 2."

And, yeah, she's grinning a lot harder now. "Derek," she shouts. "Stiles loves me!"

"Everyone knows," Derek answers. "Literally everyone knew that."

Well, now everyone knows. She texts Stiles a kissy face and burrows into her comforter to hide in her Stiles-scented happiness.

This, she thinks, is not what she's been waiting for. She kind of gave up on waiting for good things when she escaped the Alphas to run for safety. Coming back was the start of her return to this happiness, happiness she hasn't felt this fully since she was a kid without epilepsy.

She thinks she'll be okay now, though, like she's always been. Just a little happier.

And that's a good thing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf, bro.

A/N: I'm apparently obsessed with Erica right now, y'all. And it's a good thing. Hopefully I'll keep up this random streak I started. I guess we'll see! Anyway I have no idea if I wrote this well because I've never written Sterica before, but! I read through it and thought it was okay. SO. :)