Drunk Texting Memes Novels & Stories

Wharton. Thinking of this, Anna secretly decided and sent a text message to Ethan. Kristen kept drinking. She didn’t know what was wrong with herself, but her heart ached whenever she thought of Ethan and Scarlett together. After a lot of drinking, Kristen’s vision blurred. She stood up, raised her glass, and said to the air, “Come on cheers.” “Kristen, you drank too much.” Anna hurriedly stepped forward to support her. “Let me send you back.” Kristen pushed her away, “No, I’m not drunk. I’m not drunk! I can drink more...”

The dim lighting glides over the dark wood, the clean walls, the black leather of the sofa. I gently lay her on the sheets. She moans. Arches. Her skin is burning. Her dress clings to her thighs. She grips me again, pulling at my shirt. — I’m hot… please… help me… I kneel beside her. My gaze searches her face. Damp forehead. Dilated pupils. Erratic breathing. — You’ve been drugged! She blinks, blurry. — Someone put something in your drink. Damn, you idiot… you didn’t even realize it.

“What’ll it be?” “Whiskey sour,” I said. “Make it strong.” First drink went down too easy. I stared into the glass, replaying every text Jax had sent me while he was away. Miss your laugh. Can’t stop thinking about you in that red top. Lies. All of it. By the second drink, my eyes were stinging again. I wiped at them quickly, not wanting to ruin my makeup in public.

Mentions, messages, tags. My stomach tightened as I opened one. It was a meme caricature of my old picture. There was a poop emoji on top of my head, my brown eyes were replaced with a red laser, and a boldly written text on the picture said ‘SLUT’. I groaned and locked my phone immediately. But it was too late. I’d already seen it. Another buzz. Then another. Curiosity got the better of me again. I saw a particular message from a private page in my DM.

"Drink up, bitch! The night isn't over yet!" I clink my glass with hers, grinning. "Shit, I'm down for anything!" I'm drunk as hell, my body burning so hot I'm tempted to strip right here on the dancefloor, but I don't stop. I can't. Because if I do? He'll creep back in. And that road only goes one way. Drunk texting. Begging. Crying for the attention of a man who's already proven I don't mean shit to him.

I poured a cup — no glass, just the cup I usually used for water — and downed it in one burning gulp. “Dumb girl,” I muttered. “She’s so damn dumb.” The room tilted a little as the alcohol hit, but I poured another. And another. Each swallow burned less than the last. My phone buzzed. **Unknown Number: you good? Just checking in **Me: Fuck off *Unknown Number: Lol rough day? I stared at the message for a moment, my blurred reflection dancing across the screen. **Me: Who is this again? **Unknown Number: Just a friend. Remember?*

I pour myself a whisky over ice, add a splash of mineral water from the fridge, and take it into the living room. Then I text her again.Hey! Just checking, is everything okay? No worries at all if you’re busy, but just want to make sure all is well :-) x I sip the whisky while I browse the ‘Today I Fucked Up’ subreddit, pulling a face as I read a post by a guy who mistakenly used some kind of facewash for lube while he masturbated and ended up losing the top layer of skin on his family jewels. Jesus. Now I need to go bleach my eyeballs. I’m engrossed in the comments and physically jump when the phone buzzes in my hands. I feel a swell of relief—it’s Alice calling.

I might want to fuck you too. I blinked at the response, confused for a moment. Was this another one of her stupid jokes? I thought it was until I saw another text drop. You down? Confused, I flicked my gaze to the profile picture at the top of the chat box. “Fuck me.” My hand flew to my mouth and I bolted from the couch. My drunk ass didn't text that picture to my best friend’s DM. This was a complete stranger’s chat box. The same one I took a screenshot of his picture.

Without wasting another second, Dreia quickly responded with a photo. It looked like a meme template of a very drunk girl sitting behind a table full of make-up, her eyeshadow was done horribly and the mascara streaked down her face, staining her cheeks. Astrid’s eyes widened, realizing she was the girl in the photo. She brought the phone closer to her face as she tried to read the text. Now do your mascara and let the tears stream down just so the world will know how much of a family disappointment you are. Astrid forced herself to tear her eyes away from the photo as shame and anger quickly made its way up to her cheeks. She quickly sent Dreia another text, her thumbs rapidly typing on her

Kristina asks. “Those are terrible!” I giggle as I pass her the second bottle of wine that’s already halfway gone and say, “We really should have stayed sober if we wanted to come up with a clever slogan tonight.” “Yeah, I better quit drinking or our slogan’s gonna be ‘fall over drunk’.” “Fall on my drunk ass,” I come back with. Kristina snorts, which makes us both laugh even louder and now I'm holding my stomach as my body rolls back and I roll from side to side, holding my belly. “Stop, stop, I'm gonna pee my pants!”