Thinking about ghost who doesn't really drink agreeing to do so to celebrate Kyle's spouse getting a degree.
Sure, neither you nor kyle pressured ghost into it, but he's not strictly sober and he felt the event important enough to warrant it. He's been witness to your non-stop studying and exams stress enough to know how big this is for you. Ghost figures there's no harm in a few drinks
...except for the fact he's a total lightweight and completely forgot.
Which is how he ends up sat in the corner of your living room, eye's glued to you and kyle the entire night, not really moving except to grab a blanket to toss over his legs. You and gaz share a concerned look when ghost stumbles doing so, and while everyone else is trickling out, you stop ghost from grabbing his keys.
"You alright, simon? I think it's best you stay the night, we have a spare bedroom setup, okay?" You look over ghosts shoulder, nod to gaz in confirmation that ghost is staying regardless of what he says.
Thankfully, ghost makes it easy and mumbles, blushing "....stay. yes. I'll stay."
Getting ghost, a drunken three hundred and some pounds up the stairs and into the bedroom is difficult, but you and kyle make it work. While he goes to grab some water, you stay and help simon take off his shoes.
"Hey...hey. i...have a secret. To tell you." He mumbles, pawing at your wrist while you fight his laces. You furrow your brow, wait for him to continue "i....really like you. Like...wanna...hold yer hand. And kiss you. And fu–"
"Simon." You frown, face heating. "You're drunk, and I'm married to kyle. Go to bed."
"...kyle can join too." Ghost notes absently, dutifully tucking himself in even as he talks. Gaz joins that exact moment to enter the room, water in hand "pretty bloke, nice dick, great ass. Wouldn't mind bein' yer dog."
"...babe. what the fuck." Gaz whispers, just as shocked as you. You had feared ghost would attempt to make a move on you behind kyles back, but this is somehow worse when he looks you both dead in the eye.
He blushes so pretty around the scars, "Seriously. Like y' both. Would eat you out while kyle bends me over–"
"OKAY!!" you interrupt, face burning and shoving kyle out the door "that's enough of that, thank you simon! Drink water and sleep!!"
Once safely in the hallway, you and kyle share a look of complete understanding.
♡ — Gojo is drunk and he misses you. He doesn’t seem to understand that you are sitting right in front of him.
“. . . and sh-she’s so talented and pretty . . . my pretty girl . . . you gotta meet her.” SATORU GOJO cocked his head to the side, grinning; his flushed cheeks and ears were a deep shade of red.
The tall man’s legs were outstretched. He was slumped over the arm of your couch, and though he looked like he was on the brink of falling asleep, he continued to ramble on, on, and on.
“Who’s pretty?” You questioned your drunk boyfriend with worry, folding your arms across your chest.
“My girl . . . my baby . . . she’s so . . . I love her. I’m in love. I miss her. I need her.” Satoru’s grin fell into a frown.
Clumsily, he fumbled around until his hand found his phone in his pocket.
“Gonna call her,” he mumbled.
His bright phone screen illuminated his glossy eyes, and it didn’t take long for him to groan in frustration over not being sober enough to find his pretty girl’s contact.
Satoru reached across the coffee table, handing his phone to you.
“Can you call her? I love her so much,” Satoru was on the verge of tears. “I wanna marry my pretty girl.”
“Who am I calling?” Your voice was shaky. As you held his phone in your hands, you tried your hardest to prepare yourself for the worst — hearing Satoru slur out another name.
Satoru’s head snapped in your direction. Strands of his messy white hair fell every which way across his face, but you could still make out his eyebrows, which were pinched in confusion.
“Hmm,” Satoru paused, giving you a slow blink, “you’re not that bright. Everyone knows . . . everyone knows Y/N is mine . . . don’t you know that? She’s my baby.”
You couldn’t fight the urge to grin, nor did you want to.
“Can you hurry?” With a whine, Satoru started to sink down until he was laid out across the couch cushions. “I’m gonna die if you don’t hurry and call her, please. Call her-call Y/N.”
“I’m right here, Satoru,” you said.
He looked at you again, processing your face for a moment. He rolled his eyes.
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No . . . you’re not.”
“Okay, you know what?” With a sigh, you dialed your own number and handed the phone back to Satoru. “Here.”
Satoru eagerly grabbed his phone, smiling ear to ear at the sheer anticipation of getting to talk to you.
Naturally, your phone started to ring, and you answered it, staring at your drunk boyfriend.
“Hello?” You mumbled.
“Y/N? I miss you . . . where are you?”
“I’m right here-”
“Hold on, baby.” Satoru suddenly pulled the phone away from his ear, and he shot you a tired glare. “Can you be quiet, please? I’m trying to . . . to talk to my girlfriend.”
Satoru rolled over onto his side, his back now facing you. He put the phone back up to his ear, whispering, “This woman’s so rude, Y/N. No manners . . . where are you?”
“Satoru, sweetheart, that woman is me. I’m right behind you.” You couldn’t help but laugh just a bit.
Slowly, Satoru rolled back around, his eyes locking with yours as his lips parted to, once again, tell you to be quiet, but his annoyed gaze faded away. It changed into a blank expression. Then, as he studied your face further, there was a brief frown of confusion, but suddenly, his lips broke out into a wide smile. Satoru sat upright, unintentionally sending his phone tumbling to the rug below the couch.
“Y/N?” He motioned you towards his lap. “C’mere, sweetheart. Where’ve you been? I missed you so much . . . so much, baby.”
After tapping the red button on your phone to end the call, you then got up and made your way over. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you down onto his lap without wasting a second, his hands finding your hips as you straddled him, and he continued to ramble on, on, and on.
“Baby, there was this other woman here. She was awful . . . wouldn’t be quiet. Told her I was trying to talk to you, not her.” Satoru pulled you closer. He kissed your neck. “I missed you s-so much. Don’t leave again, okay? I don’t wanna talk to no one ‘cept you, okay, baby?”
“Okay, I promise,” you ran your fingers through his messy white hair. “I also promise to throw out all the alcohol in this house, because clearly, you can’t handle it, can you?”
“I can handle you just fine, baby. Will you kiss me now?” Satoru pulled away from your neck, those lips of his falling into a small pout.
You couldn’t help but sigh and smile over him misunderstanding everything right now.
Your needy, drunk boyfriend placed his large hand on the back of your head, guiding your lips towards his, kissing you deeply. All the while, you couldn’t help but wonder if your boyfriend was this needy when he was sober, but kept it a secret.
Still getting used to drawing Edgeworths fuck ass hair. Also, If you write wrightworth focused on Edgeworth finding Wrights letters just know you have a dedicated part of my heart that I will cherish until the bitter end.
All of these are on Magma btw, If you've ever gone on magma and seen Ace Attorney its me lol.
I'm going crazy rn, so, you can do something like, robert being too insecure about not being able to be a good boyfriend or the favorite person of Flambae, and, flamabe just cancel a date for seeing his friend, and Robert got MORE insecure about it, and he just ignore flambae messages all the day until he gets drunk and stars begging and being pathetic with Flambae saying things like "I need you, pls don't leave me"
pls pls I'm going crazy for needing that
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ⬇ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Robert is sprawled out on the floor beside Beef, who’s fast asleep on his little pillow.
“Even you’d rather sleep than talk to me, huh, Beef?” Robert mutters softly, staring up at the ceiling. He feels more sober now, but that lingering haze of insecurity is still wrapped around him.
He hates feeling like this. He should be happy that his boyfriend is spending time with a friend he hasn’t seen in ages. But Robert can’t stop the jealousy creeping in. Does that make him a bad boyfriend? He trusts Flambae, that’s not the issue. He just hates having to share Flambae’s attention sometimes.
And Kyle seems fun. Kyle, the fun one. Kyle, the amazing one. Kyle, who gets all of Flambae’s attention for an entire Saturday night.
Robert isn’t allowed to feel selfish about anything else in his life. He never has been. But fuck, when it comes to Flambae, he feels it so strongly. Who could blame him for wanting that man all to himself all the time? The idea that he might not be Flambae’s favorite person has been haunting him for weeks.
He groans in frustration and pushes himself off the floor, swaying slightly from the leftover dizziness of being drunk earlier. He’s heading toward the bedroom when the front door lock shifts and clicks open.
The second Robert recognizes the figure stepping inside, he changes direction instantly. A wide smile spreads across his face as he rushes forward, practically throwing himself into his boyfriend’s arms.
“Jeez–” Flambae gasps, catching Robert just as he stumbles forward and collides with his chest.
Robert’s grip tightens by the second as emotion swells inside him. He presses his face into Flambae’s chest, arms wrapped tightly around Flambae’s torso, leaving no room for escape.
“I’m sorry I was such an idiot all day,” Robert mumbles against Flambae’s shirt. “I shouldn’t have sent all those messages…”
Flambae doesn’t warn him before scooping Robert up effortlessly and kicking the door shut behind them.
“Yeah, you were a whiny bitch all day, but it’s fine…” Flambae teases, carrying his boyfriend over to the couch in the corner of the living room.
Even when Flambae lowers him onto the couch, Robert refuses to let go. Flambae’s warmth, his pull, it’s hypnotizing. Robert never wants to let him go again. So Flambae ends up lying on top of him on the too-small couch.
“Did you come here just to call me pathetic to my face?” Robert asks quietly, staring up at Flambae, who props himself up slightly to see Robert’s face.
“No,” Flambae chuckles. “I came to fight you for eating expired instant noodles, you idiot.” He leans down and presses a kiss just beneath Robert’s right ear.
Robert grunts, remembering that, but he lifts his hands to cradle Flambae’s face, desperate for contact.
“Okay, yeah. I deserve that,” Robert admits, smiling faintly.
But then something shifts. That familiar wave of selfishness and unworthiness creeps back in.
“What is it?” Flambae asks immediately, noticing the change.
“Did I ruin your night with Kyle?” Robert asks, voice softer now, almost punishing himself.
Flambae shakes his head. “No. I was going to stop by here anyway. And Kyle actually got a date, so… yeah. He’s probably out there having an even better time.”
Robert exhales in relief. He knows he’s been overly emotional all day, but knowing he didn’t ruin Flambae’s night, or Kyle’s, makes him feel lighter somehow.
“Besides…” Flambae continues, softer now. “Kyle’s my friend, and I have fun with him. But it’s never as good as when I’m with you. Dinner dates, or just lying on the couch watching trash reality TV… it’s perfect when I’m with you, Bob Bob.”
Flambae presses a gentle kiss to Robert’s forehead.
That breaks him. Robert melts completely. He fights back the tears gathering in his eyes, his vision blurring as they form a hazy veil.
“I love you. And I’m scared I’m not a good boyfriend back, because you’re so amazing to me and I–and I–I–” His breath catches. The first tear slides down his cheek, warm and sticky.
Flambae’s thumb brushes over Robert’s freckles, wiping the tear away. Then Flambae kisses Robert’s closed eyelids, soft and careful, while Robert breathes unevenly beneath him.
“You’re the best boyfriend I could ever want, Bob. I love you so much it’s actually annoying,” Flambae teases gently, trying to lighten the mood before leaning down for a long, tender kiss.
When they pull apart, Robert still doesn’t let him go. He needs to stay like this for a while. Flambae doesn’t mind. He settles down fully, resting on Robert’s chest, listening as Robert’s heartbeat gradually slows.
“And don’t ever think less of yourself for wanting me around,” Flambae murmurs against Robert’s chest. “I want to be by your side all the time too. I miss you when I’m not.”
Robert sniffles softly, running his fingers through Flambae’s hair. “You do?”
