Drunk!ghost who slurs on and on about being married when gaz drops him off to you. He makes a big deal of not touching you when you try to guide him upstairs, tells you "m' lovie 's gorgeous. Never need anything else so fock off–"
And of course he refuses to let you sleep in the same bed as him, he's married, got it? So you sleep on the couch after watching a movie, awfully endeared by your husband.
Only to wake up to him standing over you at 3am with the saddest puppy dog eyes asking "why're you out here, love? Did I do something wrong? :(" and bodily hauling you to bed so he can smother you in slightly more sober cuddles.
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♡ — 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.
simon and johnny find out you've never had a threeway
cw: drinking. sex mention. polyamory mention? pda, kissing? suggestive content.
something something being shoulder to shoulder between soap and ghost at the bar, having a night off.
your brain’s far too buzzy in a tipsy haze to keep track of what the conversation’s progressed to. your ears do perk up when gaz, from your lieutenant’s right, mentions something about his lady at home wanting a threeway.
the conversation ignites rapidly from there with the men beside you eagerly sharing their own experiences being involved in threesomes; they were so shameless about it too, sharing the details of their business in that light. you were surprised ghost was sharing, private bloke he was; though he wasn’t saying the words, it was more like johnny explaining that he and simon are often each other’s thirds.
gaz mentions something about how “even captain and his missus have a bunny of their own”. though, with the sounds of what they’ve got going on, it looks to be more than just a threesome.
you ultimately decide to stay away from the topic of conversation, since it wasn’t something you’d particularly had experience in anyway, so staying quiet just might be your best option to keep attention away from you. you gulp a few swigs of your amaretto sour, something gaz had gotten you hooked on, letting the voices beside you become background noise.
it’s not long before you feel light nudges in unison at both your sides. your nickname draws you back from your tipsy daze.
“and what ‘bout you, bonnie?”
“what about me?” you tilt your head sending a pointed look to soap, who only smirks at your response.
“threeways, y’gonna share yer experience or no?” simon’s voice gravel from your other side.
“yeah, yeah, sure,” you clear your throat before taking a deep breath and opening your mouth. you can feel the mood shift as soap and ghost lean in, more curious about your sex life than you thought they’d be. gaz is grinning ear to ear, knowingly and he waves you both off before excusing himself to the loo. nothing comes out of your mouth and you finish your drink in a swift motion, leaving the remaining men frowning as their anticipation melts into dissatisfaction.
"'s'that mean ye haven't?..."
"no, i haven't," you sheepishly admit with a slant of your lips. shifting uncomfortably on the bar stool, you can feel the weight of your words sinking in. ghost and soap's eyes don't leave you as you wave the bartender down, silently requesting another drink. you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks with every lingering second that they look at you, whether it's from the alcohol or from the attention is up to interpretation.
if you were sober, maybe you could see the two bulky men devouring you with their eyes, like you were some guilty pleasure of a sweet treat to them. of course you were, how could they not, when you looked the way you did? you were none the wiser, avoiding their glances more in embarrassment and shyness than anything.
"alrigh', well, we ought t'start somewhere." ghost downs his bourbon with a wipe from the bottom of his palm.
before you can question what that means, your lieutenant is gripping you by the waist, pulling you off of your barstool. you're protesting at the sudden touch, squirming under his touch. you don't miss the way his gloved hand swipes under the hem of your shirt to tighten his grip on you, twisting your body so your back is to his chest but you're facing johnny.
the corner of soap's lip is curled up and now, now you can see the hunger in his eyes. you're sure if you twisted your head around, simon's eyes would be dripping with mutual lust. but you can't. an arm wrapped around your waist and another resting on your chest as his rough, calloused hands grip your jaw tightly - it'd be impossible for you to move in conditions like these.
the warmth from your cheeks has sprouted flowers in your lower stomach and you can feel your own arousal dousing itself in a fire.
"come on johnny, best not t'keep our pet waitin'." ghost's voice sounds so different when his lips are hovering over the back of your neck. you're not sure if it's the alcohol or your nerves, but you can quite literally feel his words seep into your skin like butter on a hot surface.
johnny doesn't have to be told twice, especially when it's simon barking orders at him. he follows suit, pulling his body off the bar stool, a squeak coming from the chair, but that's the least of your worries as he inches forward. soap's whole hand cups the side of your face, overlapping a few of simon's fingers and he tugs you into him - well as much as simon's willing to extend.
johnny's lips meet yours in a greedy frenzy. he's hungrily allowing his hands to freely roam over every curve his hands can get a hold of. he lets out a muffled yelp/moan of surprise when simon pinches the inside of his wrist, after he absentmindedly tried to push simon's arms off your waist. too greedy. his tongue is pushing past the seam of your lips and he's sloppily lapping his tongue at the inside of your mouth.
when he pulls away, there's a dribble of saliva that connects the two of you. it serves as evidence of the not so innocent actions that have transpired. johnny's panting, a flush cascading across his cheeks. you imagine that the heat in your cheeks is a lot more prominent, maybe the surface of your skin where johnny's hands had skimmed as well. you barely notice that simon's thumb is gently rubbing circles in your skin, as if he's trying to soothe you.
"well 'ow 'bout that?" the behemoth of a man behind you has you pulled flush against his chest, chin perched over your shoulder as his thumb swipes the spit gathering at your chin. you're sure if johnny's looking close enough, he can probably see stars speckling your eyes. "messy lil thing..."
"oi, don't be mean LT." johnny interrupts, pulling you from his tight grasp. the way his hands run over your body, is a bit softer than ghost had touched and the way his hands burned your skin while his lips were on you.
you're buzzing. you can feel your skin prickle, the hairs on your arm standing with all their might as johnny coos at how adorable you are.
your amaretto is ready and gaz has made his return. your lips are swollen and you're sure your arousal is noticeable, if it is, gaz doesn't comment on it. you take your seat once more. you're avoiding the eye contact of your bartender who's seen the last few minutes unravel.
"all's m'sayin is m'no' gonna be as soft for my turn." ghost is turning forward in his seat as the bartender slides forward another drink.
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Jason grumbled after being confronted with his own marriage certificate. You hit him in the chest with a glare and said,
“Now isn't the time to be funny, bird brain!”
Jason rubbed his chest almost absentmindedly. He immediately went onto damage control. His headache was killing him and he barely registered the pain when his eyes noticed that he had married you, his best friend and now spouse. Jason took your hands in his and admired the ring. It fits you perfectly and he was impressed he picked it out after drinking himself into oblivion with you matching his every drink. He said,
“Calm down! We can get divorced if you want!”
You looked momentarily startled by his callused hand tenderly holding yours to look at the ring that he put on your finger last night. The surprise faded into anger. You scowled and retorted with a low hiss,
“Or I could kill you and collect your life insurance.”
Jason snorted as if the idea of you killing him was hilarious and not a serious threat. He rolled his eyes when he noticed how frantic your breathing was becoming and squeezed your hands in reassurance. His sarcastic response almost made you laugh,
“You know that I don’t stay dead, babe.”
You looked helplessly at the piece of paper, at Bruce, and then at the rest of the heroes at the party. You blinked at the gathered heroes who were all staring at you and finally turned your eyes to Jason.
Jason. Your husband, best friend, and the only one who could make you laugh when you wanted to punt him into the sun and maybe make Bizzarro play fetch with his corpse.
You shook your head in disbelief as you stared at Jason. Was there seriously anyone else you would rather marry? You decided not really. Maybe this marriage was for the best, and he specified that he’d get divorced because of your emotions and smiled like it didn’t break his heart.
“We don’t have to get divorced…”
You murmured as your eyes darted away. You were scared to look at Jason’s expression, but you felt him go completely still. After what felt like forever, Jason breathed a slow sigh of relief before he dragged you into an embrace. You both ignored the drunk wolf whistles and instead wrapped your arms tightly around your husband. His face buried into your neck and he placed smooth kisses along your neck.
“I will propose to you properly someday, but we are going to date and I’m going to make you fall in love with me first.”
Jason tried to sound confident, but you heard the nervousness under his normally cocky and confident voice. His eyes stared at you like you meant the world to him. You caressed his cheek and gave him a smile that calmed his anxiety. You gently pulled him into a kiss and cuddled into Jason.
You kissed Jason like you already loved him and you were just waiting for him to catch up.
Jason’s heavy arms wrapped around your waist almost timidly. You both felt all of the eyes on you, but neither of you cared any more. All that mattered was your lips dancing with his own. His arms drew you flush against him for the first time. Your arms wrapped smoothly around his neck and your hands began to play with the hair that you could reach. You cuddled into Jason and smiled fondly.
“I love you.”
Jason whispered in your ear in a hoarse voice. The kiss left him breathless. It shattered him and remade him simultaneously. A smile crept onto your face and he quickly mirrored the expression. His hands moved up to cup your jaw and dragged you into another kiss like he couldn’t get enough now that he’s had a taste.
There were more drunk wolf whistles and someone took a photo with the flash on while you leaned into his slightly shaking hands.
You screamed against his lips when he lifted you up. The angle of the kiss was hurting his neck, so he sat you on the nearest table and stepped in the space between your slightly spread open legs. His body hid you from the eyes of everybody staring.
Jason finally pulled away and sighed softly. You hooked your ankles around the back of his thighs peacefully while his hands massaged your hips slowly. His hands were warm and comforting on your hips, heavy and rough but perfect and familiar.
You pulled away from his kiss and whispered so quiet that only he could hear,
“I wouldn’t want to marry anyone else, bird brain.”
Jason almost cried. His hands squeezed your hips before they relaxed. You meant every word, and he knew it. He responded just as quietly,
“I don’t even remember my vows to you, but I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that this wasn’t a mistake.”
You gave Jason a lovesick smile until Roy stumbled up to you, swung an arm around you loosely, and slurred,
“I recorded the vows, you sappy bastards. I thought you were going to puke on him and wanted to put it on Instagram if you did.”
You snickered immediately while Jason punched his shoulder. Jason tried to look upset, but Roy had already sent the shaky video and Jason couldn’t find it in him to feel angry. While the intentions were awful, it felt like a gift and almost like fate that he brought Roy along to act as the witness. Roy was only slightly less drunk yet it made all the difference.
“I hate you so much.”
Jason grumbled at Roy when he made fake kissing noises. You only laughed louder and leaned onto Jason’s shoulder. Roy left after that like he didn’t unleash chaos and ruin the gathering while you wheezed against Jason’s chest.
Dick looked like he was going to be sick, Tim looked like he would rather be anywhere else, Cass was watching with an unnatural stillness, and Damian fake gagged with a deadpan expression while Bruce looked down at the marriage certificate that he found when hacking into a government website (don’t ask, he won’t answer). You gave Jason a quick kiss and said,
“You’ve gone soft, Hood.”
Jason’s head dropped onto your shoulder and groaned when you shook with laughter. You loved Jason and he loved you more than he could have ever thought possible.
