You Come Home Drunk

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Ross: You stumbled through the house, trying your best to get upstairs. Your heels clacked against the floor, and you kicked them off, chucking them against a wall. You tried to regain composure, putting one foot in front of the other, but it wasn’t working like you planned. After you had fallen down the stairs, you saw a light go on, and a sleepy Ross eyeing you from the top. “What are you doing?” he asked tiredly. “Stairs. Trying to get up them,” you muttered, trying one more time. He raced down, supporting your weight, and helped you onto the bed carefully. 

Riker: You had gotten in a fight earlier in the day about the people you hung out with, and needless to say, you stormed out. You decided to get wasted, ignoring everything he had said. You came in through the door, slinging it open. It slammed against the wall, probably shaking the whole house. You made your way to the couch, taking a seat. “Let me guess, you’re drunk right now?” he asked, not needing an answer. “I don’t need help s-so go away,” you stated. He shook his head, picking you up bridal style. “No!” you screamed, trying to wiggle free. “Just go to bed,” he ordered, setting you down. 

Rocky: He had gotten the call that you needed a ride home, and came immediately to pick you up. You got into the car, smiling widely. “I’ve missed you baby,” you cooed, leaving kisses all over his face. “(y/n), can this wait until we got home?” he chuckled. You nodded, biting your lip. “Yay! We’re here,” you said, tripping over the porch steps. You were incredibly giggly, always on a happy note. “Carry me,” you whispered, impatiently. He picked your up, and your legs were wrapped around your waist. You started kissing him, as he set you onto the couch. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured. You nodded, laying down. Before he even got back, you were completely passed out, sprawled over the couch. He kissed your cheek, “Goodnight (y/n),” before covering you with a blanket. 

Ratliff: “Ell I’m home!” you shouted, waiting for him to appear. “Ell?! I”m home!” you screamed, louder this time. A light flickered on, and he appeared, rubbing his eyes. “It’s three in the morning (y/n), what are you doing?” he yawned. “Oops,” you giggled, running to hug him. He gave you a quick peck on the lips, before taking your hand and leading you upstairs. “I’m gonna go back to bed now,” he stated. You stopped, pouting. “No, stay up with me! We can have fun!” you slurred. He shook his head, “No way. Let’s go,” he said, making you lay down with him. “I don’t want to,” you whined. He put his hand around your waist, resting his head onto your shoulder. “Are you listening to me? I don’t wanna,” you said quietly. He nodded his head yes, but continued to fall asleep anyway. You sighed, letting your eyes droop along with his. 

Ryland: It was the morning after you went out, drinking heavily. You were still in the same clothes, lying on the couch. The sun was beaming through the faded curtains, already leaving your head pounding. You groaned, covering your face with a pillow. “I’m guessing the party went good,” you heard Ryland chuckle beside you. He had a plate full of food, the smell making you nauseous. Without replying, you raced to the bathroom, throwing up the contents of your stomach. You heard him in the living room setting down his plate, before footsteps coming to find you. Silently, he took your hair and held it back for you. You groaned again, leaning onto his lap. “And that’s why you shouldn’t drink,” he stated, earning an eye roll from you. 

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