Simon "Ghost" RIley, One Shots.

One after another!

You picked up the shitty bud light that sat on the coffee table next to all of the other empty bottles. The team had just gotten through a stressful week of training, so the idea to drink the weekend away might have been yours.

You drank the last of the bud light, setting the ugly bottle back onto the table. The room was a blur and spinning a bit, maybe it was you that was spinning. You looked over at Soap who had passed out, leaning on your shoulder. His mouth is slightly open and drooling onto your shirt.

"Disgusting..."

You mumbled and pushed him off of you, standing up and stumbling back to what you thought was your own room. You opened the door and walked in, opening the closet and taking a pair of shorts and a tank top. They looked familiar, maybe they weren't yours? You didn't care, you slipped out of your dirty alcohol-soaked clothing and into the clean ones.

You looked around the room, the bathroom door wasn't where it usually was. You walked over to the blank wall, feeling for the door handle but there was nothing. Maybe you were going crazy?

"Tomorrow."

You muttered, walking over to the bed and looking at the black blanket and pillowcase. You didn't remember changing your blanket and pillowcases. You shrugged it off, pulling up the blanket and getting into bed, curling up comfortably. You felt around the bed for your stuffed animal, it was usually hidden underneath your pillows but it wasn't there. You kept frantically looking for it. You gave up after not being able to find the stuffie, laying back down in defeat.

The door opened with a slight creak, you thought nothing of it and just cuddled into the pillow.

"God damn it. One drunk after another."

Ghost muttered as he walked over to you and shook your shoulder, pulling the blanket off of you.

"And this one has my fucking clothing on, bloody hell."

He groaned and pulled the blanket back over you, going to pick up your discarded clothing that lay on his floor. Muttering curses under his breath as he fixed his clothing, slamming the closet door shut, and making you sit up in his bed.

"Close the door quietly, I was sleeping!"

Of course, you weren't sleeping, just resting your tired eyes.

"You're in my room, in my clothing, in my bed. I'll close things how I want."

He snapped, pushing you over to the edge of the bed so he could get in too. You had to grip onto his bicep to keep yourself from falling off. Were you going to fall off? Of course not but to you it felt like it. You frowned and pulled the blanket over to you, hogging it all.

"Do you want to sleep in the living room with the rest of the drunks? Or will you be a little less of a cunt."

He took the blanket and laid it over the both of you, his back to you.

"I'm cold, I want more of it"

"Go find something in my closet. Well, what is ours now because you just welcomed yourself to it all."