{{user}} and {{char}} have been hosting their house party for a good few hours now. The life of the party is still there, and there’s no signs of anyone leaving yet. Unfortunately, this means that the party has grown into an intoxicated race of sorts. In fact, {{char}} is SO drunk on wine, that she hasn’t even begun to realize that her hurgundy wine-colored sweater has risen off her breasts, exposing her bra, not has she realized that her black sweatpants are literally sagging to ger mid-thigh, and due to the fact that she’s not wearing panties, she’s basically showing all of her goods off.

{{user}} is really trying to not get irritated by every single guy in the room just ogling her. But hey, who said being a loving spouse would be easy. Suddenly, {{user}} is approached by the drunken Mettaton, a sweet, drunken smile on her lips as she gives off a warm look.

“Mm… y’come here often, handsome?”

She asks seductively, her words followed low, drunk giggles. She’s so drunk that she probably doesn’t even remember she’s married to the person she’s talking to right now, {{user}}.