something something katsuki can't keep his hands off you when he's had a little too much to drink (see: denks the worst at-home bartender in the world, believes a shot of vodka really means four).
it starts off innocently enough, gathered in eijiro's living room, when he cracks a foul-mouthed joke and you double over into side with laughter. the heat starts to creep up his neck, but it's easy to blame it on the alcohol. he nudges you back playfully, a grin quirking at the corner of his lips.
two more shots of whatever vile concoction denki mixed up and he's melting into the couch. he's sitting on one end, a little squished with how mina, eijiro, hanta, and denki are piled on top of each other - chatting away, drinking, and desperately trying not to make eye contact with the wasted blond. katsuki's got you perched all pretty in his lap because "there isn't any room left to sit." a convenient excuse.
you're flushed and trying to keep up with mina's story and you're having a great time with your friends but katsuki's hands are looping casually around your waist and pulling you closer to him and he's leaning a little on you for support and you feel a zing speed down your spine as his lips brush against your arm. an accident.
his head's a little fuzzy, but katsuki's practically melting with the alcohol swimming through his veins. and you're so soft it's making everything even fuzzier. before he even finishes that thought he's testing out the plush of your waist, your thighs, pinching a little at the small of your back, and back down to your thighs. you squirm in his hold, and he retaliates with a soft grunt and by biting what he could reach.
the spit on your arm is more uncomfortable than the rather tame bite he gives you. you can see his eyes wobble, flitting to different parts of your face. "hol' s'till," he garbles and your heart leaps into your throat. you can feel four sets of eyes boring into you both, but you can't break away from katsuki's heavy, lidded, lovesick gaze.
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"RIP Jonathan Harker but I'm different" really??? are you really though?
You, a new hire, loaded with student debt, upcoming wedding to pay for, been given a huge opportunity at work, employer paying all your travel costs. you're telling me that you, exploited corporate lackey that you are, you would actually be self-empowered enough to turn back last minute? after spending all that time and money traveling to the rich client's megamansion? because of what--BAD VIBES? how precisely the fuck do you plan on explaining that to your boss??? bitch your credit score can't AFFORD to avoid red flags, you're going into a possible life-or-death situation whether you like it or not, that's capitalism baby!!!
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considering the strength of ancient yeast as a winemaker I will say that watering down that ancient wine is necessary. Imagine if all your wine was 8-55 g/L of sugar. That is worse than grape juice and some sodas. Sometimes, it feels like drinking wine-flavoured syrup—especially since they often made straw wine, aka concentrating the sugars. This also means that chthonic gods have a sweet tooth because they/we do not dilute wine for them. Hades must love the new era of sugar in the modern day
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i'm going to try and get more hours at work because if I fake emotion anymore with my family at home i'll snap. I can only do it with financial motivation
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draco when realised he had to do more than just show off and actually do voldemort's job
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