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animesmolbean · 1 month

Text

Words Hold Power

An “The Umbrella Academy” fanfiction

Five x Reader

(Female)

Author's Note: Welcome to my The Umbrella Academy fanfiction! I'm so excited to share this story with you all! TUA is my favorite Netflix show! I'm very sad to see it's in its final season, but all great shows come to an end! But at least we'll get to rewatch it over and over again, lol.

Speaking of which, please, no spoilers for S4 since I have not watched it yet. I'll let you guys know where I am in S4 in coming posts.

With that said, I just wanted to tell you guys this. There was one hesitation I had with writing this story. Handling Viktor's character. I know about the journey of this character and Elliot Page's journey as well. I know about the transition, and I wanted to tell you how I planned on approaching this.

I did research on this topic and wanted to be sure I was handling it correctly. I researched how I should write transgender characters and their journeys throughout the story.

I also read other TUA fanfictions for research to see how other authors handle it, and like the research, it's a mixed bag. Some use Viktor only, and some show the name change.

After researching, I decided on an approach.

I will follow what the show does and show the transition story Viktor has. I chose this because I believe it's a beautiful journey, and the show does a great job handling the topic.

One last thing, all the main characters (The Hargreeves siblings) are aged up a little.

With all that said, I hope you enjoy the first chapter! ♥️

~Character Info~

Reader's ability is cursed speech. She can make anyone do what she says with only a few words. It's similar to Allison's, except she doesn't need to say certain words first like her, and her ability is much more powerful. To the point where she has to be extremely careful about what she says.

(As you can tell, this was inspired by the anime character, Toge Inumaki from Jujutsu Kaisen.)

Chapter 1: We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals (Family Reunion)

On the twelfth hour of the first day of October 1985, forty-three women around the world gave birth.

This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women have been pregnant when the day first began.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

He got eight of them.

Many years later, the kids grew up and went on with their lives as adults.

There was Number One, aka Luther Hargreeves. Big, strong and was currently on the moon, studying and preparing for whatever his mission was.

There was Number Two, aka Diego Hargreeves. Impulsive, brave and works as a vigilante of sorts.

There was Number Three, aka Allison Hargreeves. Famous actress who was currently on the red carpet in front of paparazzi.

There was Number Four, aka Klaus. A lazy, free-spirited soul who is currently leaving rehab and using the money he got from the rehab to buy drugs. He ended up in the back of an ambulance.

And, there was Number Seven, aka Vanya Hargreeves. She was quiet, timid, and was currently leaving the theater after practicing her violin.

However, their lives would change forever with one broadcast.

Their father was now dead.

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY

☂

Vanya rode a taxi to her childhood home. A place she lived for many years.

The Umbrella Academy.

A tall condo-like building with a black gate.

Vanya approached the building and opened the doors, whose windows were decorated by umbrellas.

The foyer was fancy still. The middle was open with a chandelier hanging above a small round table in the middle. Tall, smooth white beams holding the sides which held the second floor. A staircase that leads to that second floor was behind the small round table.

It was just as Vayna remembered it. Every little detail was still there.

“Hey, Mom.”

Vanya called to the woman in the living room. Said woman sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace, which currently had a fire going. She stayed still as she stared into the dancing flames.

“Mom?”

“Vanya?”

A familiar voice turned Vanya’s attention elsewhere.

“You're actually here.”

She turned and saw her sister, Allison coming down the stairs.

“Hey, Allison.”

“Hey sis.”

Allison now stood before her sister. She chuckled and brought the other girl into a hug, which Vanya quietly but graciously returned.

“Ah. What is she doing here?”

A new voice spoke through the quiet foyer.

“You don't belong here. Not after what you did.”

It was Diego.

“You're seriously gonna do this today?” Allison spoke up, her tone telling that she wasn't in the mood for the male's attitude.

“Way to dress for the occasion, by the way.” She added, mocking Diego’s attire as he ascended the stairs. He was still in his “hero” gear; knives and everything.

“At least I'm wearing black.” Diego shot back nonchalantly as he turned left on the stairs, disappearing from the girls’ views.

Vanya, now uncomfortable, spoke up quietly, “You know what? I- Maybe he's right. And I shouldn't-”

“Forget about him.” Allison interrupted her. “I'm glad you're here.” She spoke softly. Vanya’s lips quirked up a little at Allison's words. The sisters shared a moment of silence.

☂

Diego arrived at his late father's room, to see Luther there checking the windows. He leaned against the doorframe.

“I can save you some time. They're all locked. No forced entry, no sign of struggle. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

As he spoke, he walked over to Luther who was also walking towards him.

“Oh, you got big, Luther. What's the secret, huh? Protein shakes? Low carbs?” Diego asked mockingly.

“What do you want?” Luther asked, not wanting to deal with Diego's attitude.

Diego reached into his pocket and pulled out a few folded pieces of paper, handing them to Luther. “The autopsy report.”

After he teasingly tried to pull them away from Luther, the latter brother snatched them out of his hand.

“And you have this, why?” Luther asked.

“Well, that's because I… broke into the coroner's office.” Diego explained as he sat down in an armchair. “And surprise, surprise, Dad's death was… normal. Just a boring, old heart failure.”

“Yeah, so?” Luther looked at Diego.

“So, why are you in here, checking all the windows?”

“Were you the first one on the scene?” Luther asked.

��Pogo found him.” Diego answered.

“Yeah, I talked with Pogo. He said he couldn't find Dad's monocle.”

“And your point being?” Diego asked in a bored tone.

“Can you think of a single time you saw Dad and he wasn't wearing that monocle? No. Which means someone took it. Which means there's a chance he wasn't alone when he died.”

Diego sat up from the armchair. “There is no mystery here. Nothing to avenge. Nothing to solve, nothing like that. It's just a sad old man who kicked it in a big empty house. Just like he deserved.”

“You should leave.” Lither spoke, not liking Diego's tone with that last sentence he spoke.

“Whatever you say, brother.” Diego said in a mocking tone as he turned to leave. Before he did, he turned back to Luther. “By the way, did you visit (Your Name) yet?”

Luther shook his head. “No. I was about to, actually.”

“You know where she is.” Diego simply said.

☂

Vanya entered the living room, looking around at the interior. She spotted a comic and new articles on their group, The Umbrella Academy. She looked at the bookshelves and pulled out one book in particular.

The title read, “Extra Ordinary My Life as Number Seven”

It was her autobiography book. The one she wrote when she left the academy.

She observed it solemnly until a voice spoke out.

“Welcome home, Ms. Vanya.”

She turned and saw Pogo, a human sized monkey dressed formally with a cane and glasses.

Vanya walked over to him and hugged him. Pogo hugged back with a hum. “So good to see you.” He noticed the book in her hand. “Ah, yes, your autobiography.”

“Do you know, um…” Vanya paused before continuing. “Did he ever read it?”

Pogo thought for a moment before replying, “Not that I'm aware of.”

Vanya turned her attention to the portrait above the fireplace. It showed a boy, around seventeen in age, sitting with a neutral but sophisticated look on his face.

“How long has it been since Five disappeared?” She asked.

Pogo turned to look at the portrait too. “It's been sixteen years, four months, and fourteen days.” The two looked at each other. “Your father insisted I keep track.”

“And… how long has (Your Name) been in that coma?”

“Sixteen years, four months, and six days.” Pogo replied.

“You wanna know something stupid? I always used to leave the lights on for him. I was scared that he would come back, it would be late, and the house would be dark and he wouldn't be able to find us, so he'd leave again. And he would take (Your Name) with him. So, every night I'd make a little snack and make sure all the lights were on.”

Pogo nodded. “Oh, I remember your snacks. I'm pretty sure I stepped in half those peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches, and those (Favorite type of Cookie) cookies.” He sighed a couple times before he spoke again, “Your father always believed that Number Five was still out there somewhere. He also believed that one day (Your Name) would wake up. He never lost hope.”

“And look where that got him.” Vanya said solemnly.

☂

Allison went up to her late father's study, looking around the area. The familiarity of it brought up a memory.

〰️

Reginald Hargreeves was working in his office, as usual, when Grace knocked on the door. She entered before closing the door.

“The children are ready for bed, sir. They wanted to say goodnight.”

She turned and walked a couple of paces and opened the sliding door.

On the other side revealed the eight children, all wearing matching pajamas. Allison was in the center while the others surrounded her. Little (Your Name) stood between her and Five, a black cloth face mask covering her mouth and nose.

The children were all smiling as they waited for their father to acknowledge them. But he was so into his work that he didn't even glance up at them.

Sensing the awkwardness, Grace quickly dismissed the kids. The kids, of course, were disappointed but not surprised. As they left slowly, (Your Name) tugged on Allison's sleeve, silently asking her to come.

“I'll be there in a minute (Your Name).” The girl whispered. (Your Name) tilted her head to the side. Allison spoke again, “Why don't you go hang out with Five for a bit before bed? I know you planned on it.” She gave the masked girl a small smile. (Your Name) felt her cheeks warm up, but she nodded, leaving and quietly walking over to Five. The boy saw her coming and, with a nod of his head, gestured to her to follow him. (Your Name) nodded and started to walk beside him. As she did, she heard Allison,

“He's always busy.”

〰️

“Where's the cash, Dad?”

The sound of a voice diverted Allison's attention and she walked over to her father's desk, hearing clamoring noises. She leaned forward to look to see who was over there.

“Klaus? What are you doing in here?” She asked.

Said boy looked up and gasped at the sight of his sister. “Oh! Allison! Wow, is that you?” He asked as he stood up. He embraced her slowly; Allison slowly returned the hug. “Long time. Too long.” He pulled away. “Hey, I was hoping to see you, actually, because I wanted to get your autograph. Add it to my collection!” He planted his chin onto his hands.

Allison let her brother act because it was how he always behaved when she noticed the white paper bracelet on his left wrist. “Just out of rehab?” She asked.

“No, no. No, no, no, no. No. I'm done with all of that.” Klaus replied with a sigh as he removed the bracelet. “I just came down here to prove to myself that the old man was really gone.” He smiled. “And he is! He's dead. Yeah!” He clapped, making Allison smile a little, shaking her head a bit.

“You know how I know? Because if he were alive, not one of us would be allowed to set foot in this room.” Allison silently agreed with Klaus.

“He was always in here, our whole childhood, plotting his next torment, right?” He said with a chuckle as he sat in the armchair behind the desk, putting his feet on the desk. “Remember how he used to look at us? That scowl?” He pointed to the man's portrait onto the wall behind him. “Thank Christ, he's not our real father, so we couldn't inherit those cold, dead eyes!” He stretched his eyelids to show more of his eyeballs. He fake screams, making Allison chuckle a little as Klaus started to dramatically imitate their late father.

“Get out of his chair.”

Klaus turned his head and saw Luther standing by the doorway. “Oh, wow, Luther! Wow, you really, uh… You really filled out over the years, huh?” Klaus said as he stood and flexed his arm muscles.

“Klaus.” Luther warned.

“Save the lecture. I was already leaving. You guys can talk amongst yourselves. I am going to visit (Your Name). Oh! The precious little sister of ours.” He chuckled softly. Before he could leave though, Luther stopped him. “Drop it.”

“Ex-squeeze me?” Klaus said.

“Do it. Now.” Luther ordered.

Klaus pulled his arm away from Luther and went back to the desk and started to empty out his pockets, which held a few of his late father's belongings. “It's just an advance on our inheritance! That's all it is!” Allison chuckled silently at her brother. “No need to get your little panties in a bunch.” With that, Klaus left, closing the door; leaving Luther and Allison alone in the room.

“So, Klaus is still Klaus, in case you are wondering.” Luther started.

“You know, after all these years, I find it strangely comforting.” Allison stated.

“Did you see Diego?” Luther asked.

“With his stupid outfit?” Allison added in amusement.

“Oh, I know. Do you think he wears that thing in the bathroom?” Lauther asked.

“Like in the shower?” Allison asked for confirmation.

“Yeah.” Luther confirmed.

“Yes, absolutely!” Allison laughed.

The two went on to talk about how their lives are going now that they are adults. Luther was the only one to stay while the rest went their separate ways. Their conversation ended talking about Allison's family and her powers.

〰️

A little later, everyone congregated in the living room. The fire was still going in the fireplace as everyone sat in silence.

Luther started talking about doing a memorial service for their late father. Some like Allison were mostly confused by this or making fun of it like Klaus.

“Is that my skirt?” Allison asked, noticing Klaus wearing a skirt now.

“Oh, yeah this. I found it in your room. It's a little dated, I know, but it's very breathy on the bits.”

Luther stopped Klaus before he could go further and started to talk about their father's death. He had a theory that he didn't die simply of heart failure. He recounted how he was acting suspicious and requested Klaus to try to communicate with him. Klaus was not interested.

“I can't just call Dad into the afterlife and be like, “Dad, could you just stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?”

“Since when? That's your thing.” Luther said.

“I'm not in the right… frame of mind.”

“You're high?” Allison asked, not surprised.

“Yeah! Yeah!” Klaus laughed. “I mean, how are you not listening to this nonsense?”

“Well, sober up, this is important.” Luther said.

Klaus only sighed.

When Luther started talking about the missing monocle, Diego concluded that Luther was suspicious of all of them, saying that Luther thought one of them killed their dad. This caused everyone to get upset. Diego insulted Luther's leadership, Klaus got up and jokingly said that he might as well go murder their Mom and (Your Name), unless she was already dead. Vanya left in silence and. Allison left in silence as well. Luther tried to defend himself, but it was too late.

They weren't always like this. When they were kids, they were tight knit.

〰️

17 YEARS AGO

“This is Jim Hellerman, reporting live for Channel 2 News outside of the Capital West Bank at Main and Sixth. A group of heavily armed men stormed the bank not three hours ago and took an unknown number of hostages.”

The armed men surveyed the bank as they pointed their guns at the bound up hostages and pushed them behind the counter as they proceeded with the robbery.

Unexpectedly, a girl with curly black hair, in a school uniform and mask, walked casually to one of the robbers.

It was Allison.

“Hey, get back with the others.” The robber ordered the girl.

“I heard a rumor.” Allison spoke.

“What? What did you say?”

Allison leaned forward and used her ability, “I heard a rumor that you shot your friend in the foot.”

The robber pointed his gun at one of his partners and promptly shot him in the foot, knocking him down. The hostages screamed at the sound of the gun.

Suddenly, someone, dressed in a boy's school uniform with a mask came crashing down from a window above and landed behind the counter. It was Luther. He punched one robber and threw him out the window with surprising strength.

Then, another kid dressed like Luther came from the other side of the bank. “Guns are for sissies. Real men throw knives.” He threw two long knives at one of the robbers only for them to redirect to another robber and immediately killed him.

There were now only two robbers left in the lobby.

One of them climbed onto the desk and pointed his gun shakily at the three kids. “Get back, you freaks.”

“Hey, be careful up there, buddy.” Diego, the knife throwing kid taunted.

“Get back now!”

“Wouldn't want you to get hurt.” Allison taunted as well.

“Or what?”

A fourth kid appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sitting criss cross on the desk. A taunting smirk on his face. This was Number Five.

The robber shot at Five, but he disappeared and reappeared on the other side. When the robber turned around and tried to shoot him again, he suddenly realized that he was not holding a gun.

“Ooh! That's one badass stapler!” Five taunted before smacking the guy's hand holding the stapler into his head. This knocked the robber over.

All they had to do now was get rid of the robbers in the vault.

Or so they thought.

There was one more.

He loaded his fun and his gun cocked, catching the kids off guard.

“Down you freaks!” He yelled.

Suddenly, running from a hidden place behind a wall was a fifth kid, dressed like Allison, as she pulled down her face mask. She directed her attention to the robber.

“Explode!”

The single word echoed loudly through the bank, and just before the guy could turn his gun to the girl, his body suddenly exploded, body parts, guts, and blood spreading out everywhere. The hostages screamed in fear. The girl quickly covered her face again, breathing heavily as she ran to her siblings.

She gestured to all of them. They couldn't see much of her face, but they could tell she was worried by the look in her eyes.

“We're okay. Thanks (Your Name).” Allison said.

(Your Name) hummed, nodding as she walked over to behind the desk with the others, while two more kids dressed like the rest of the boys joined them. Five looked at her. “That was pretty badass. Good work.” He complimented, giving her a smile. (Your Name) felt her cheeks warm up a little, and she tilted her head a bit and closed her eyes. Most people wouldn't be able to tell her expression behind the mask, but Five knew she was smiling at him in thanks.

“Do we really have to do this?” A meek voice asked.

“Come on, Ben. There's more guys in the vault.” Luther told the boy.

Ben sighed as he walked to the vault door. “I didn't sign up for this.”

He entered as the hostages all ran for their lives out of the bank. Inside the vault, the last of the robbers were eyeing slaughtered by Ben's ability. He screeched and roared as his tentacles ripped them apart and threw them against the walls. Blood splattered all over the windows.

Once it was quiet, Ben came out, covered in blood. “Can we go home now?” He asked, his breathing shaky.

It was time to leave.

The seven kids started walking towards the entrance of the bank. (Your Name) pulled out a small vial and turned the cap. She pulled the bottom part of her mask up and put the bottle to her lips. She tilted her head back and started swallowing the liquid. She finished it and placed the empty bottle back in her pocket.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Five's voice made (Your Name) turn to him. She nodded and hummed in thanks. Five offered his arm to her. “Ready?” He asked. The girl nodded again, and she hooked her arm with Five's. Five smiled at her, and they started walking after their siblings.

The seven kids emerged from the back as the news reporters pointed their cameras at the group, and they all clamored to try to talk to them.

Above on the top of a building nearby, stood Reginald Hargreeves, observing the other kids with a mini telescope. An eighth kid, dressed like Allison and (Your Name), minus the mask, stood next to him.

“Why can't I go play with the others?” The girl asked.

“We've been through this before, Number Seven. I'm afraid there's just nothing special about you.” Reginald said as he lowered his telescope.

The girl looked down. “Oh.”

Eventually, Reginald came down to stand with the children.

“Our world is changing. Has changed. There are some among us gifted with abilities far beyond the ordinary. I have adopted seven such children.”

‘You mean eight.’ (Your Name) thought to herself as she looked down temporarily, her arm still linked with Five's.

“I give you the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy.”

Many news reporters asked many questions.

“What happened to their parents?” One asked.

“They were suitably compensated.” Reginald replied.

“Are you concerned about the welfare of the children?” Another asked.

“Of course. As I am for the fate of the world.” Reginald said.

〰️

☂

Everyone was in separate rooms, having their alone time after the little dispute from earlier. Klaus was still in the living room, trying to talk to their late father but he ended up knocking the vase filled with his ashes over.

Luther was walking through the hallways, reminiscing until he got to his room.

Allison was looking through her belongings until she found a gold heart locket with ‘A+L’ carved onto the front.

Klaus took the vase into the kitchen where he proceeded to take more pills.

Diego laid on the couch in the living room, playing with one of his knives.

Vanya sat on the stairs, a solemn look on her face.

Luther eventually found a familiar record and played it on the record player.

“I Think We're Alone Now” by Tiffany started to play.

Everyone heard the familiar tune all throughout the house and they all started to dance in their respective rooms.

Childhood nostalgia ran through their bodies as they all danced like no one was watching. Even Pogo moved a little to the beat.

But suddenly, thunder rumbled and lightning flashed.

The music stopped as the house reacted to the violent disturbance.

The siblings all ran to the courtyard and saw a giant hole, surrounded by blue lightning.

“What is it?” Vanya asked.

“Don't get too close!” Allison warned.

“Yeah, no shit.” Diego said.

“Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly. Either that or a miniature black hole. One of the two.

“Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan.” Diego insulted.

“Out of the way!” Klaus exclaimed as he came out with a fire extinguisher and tried to spray it but it was out of steam. So, he just threw it at the mysterious anomaly only for it to get sucked in.

“What is that gonna do?” Allison asked.

“I don't know. Do you have a better idea?” Klaus asked.

The anomaly got stronger and Luther ushered everyone behind him to protect them. Klaus wanted to run. Luther and Allison held hands.

The electrical crackling intensified and someone emerged from the anomaly, arms out. It disappeared and the person fell out of the sky and landed on the ground. The sky cleared up as the siblings walked towards the person, who stood up. He was dressed in a suit way too big for him.

“Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?” Klaus asked.

The boy known as Five looked at himself then back at the siblings.

“Shit.”

☂

The six were now in the kitchen. Five was busy making a sandwich while the others watched in shock.

“What's the date? The exact date.” Five asked.

“The 24th.” Vanya replied.

“Of what?”

“March.”

“Good.”

Luther spoke up. “So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?”

Five didn't reply. He just continued with making his sandwich.

Silence fell for a couple of seconds until Luther stood up. “It's been seventeen years.”

Five scoffed. “It's been a lot longer than that.” He blinked over to the cabinet.

“I haven't missed that.” Luther muttered.

“Where'd you go?” Diego asked.

“The future. It's shit, by the way.” Five replied as he blinked back to the table.

“Called it.” Klaus said.

“I should've listened to the old man. You know, jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice.” Five looked up at the siblings. “Nice dress.” He told Klaus.

“Oh, well, danke!” Klaus said, playing with the article of clothing.

“Wait, how did you get back?” Vanya asked.

“In the end I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time.” Five explained.

“That makes no sense.” Diego spoke up.

“Well, it would if you were smarter.” Five sasses.

Diego stood up to confront the boy but Luther stopped him, holding him back.

“How long were you there?” He asked.

“Forty-one years. Give or take.”

Luther and Diego sat back down. “So what are you saying? That you're fifty-eight?” The former asked.

Five looked at Luther. “No, my consciousness is fifty-eight.” He finished his sandwich. “Apparently, my body is now seventeen again.”

“Wait, how does that even work?” Vanya asked.

“Delores kept saying the equations were off. Eh.” Five took a bite out of his sandwich. “Bet she's laughing now.”

Vanya was confused. “Delores?”

Five ignored her and looked at the newspaper that told him about Reginald Hargreeves’ death. “Guess I missed the funeral.”

“How'd you know about that?” Luther asked.

“What part of the future do you not understand?” Five asked. “Heart failure, huh?”

“Yeah.” “No.” Diego and Luther said together.

Five hummed before clicking his tongue. “Nice to see nothing's changed.” Then, he got a good look at his siblings again. He realized that one was missing. “By the way, where's (Your Name)?”

The other five siblings looked at each other, solemn expressions on their faces now. “Well…” Vanya started. “There isn't an easy way to say this.” Allison said. “She's in a coma.” “She's dead.” Klaus and Diego finished. “Diego!” Allison scolded.

Five looked at his siblings, a subtle look of worry on his face, but on the inside, his heart was beating faster. “What happened?”

“Well…. like I said… this isn't easy to say.” As Allison tried to explain, they suddenly heard soft footsteps approaching the kitchen. They slowly turned their heads and what they saw shook them to the core.

There stood…

(Your Name).

Klaus yelled in surprise.

“Holy shit.” Diego said.

Everyone else looked in surprise.

(Your Name) was alive.

#the umbrella academy #tua #tua season one #five hargreeves #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreaves x you #five x reader #five x y/n #five x you #tua five #tua fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #x y/n #x female reader #x fem!reader #x female y/n

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queers-gambit · 6 months

Text

Now and at the Hour of His Death

prompt: any who say, "it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," were never loved by him.

pairing: Osferth x female!pregnant!wife!reader

fandom: The Last Kingdom

word count: 6.1k+

note: fuck you, Netflix.

warnings: you already know - author needs therapy, projects hard, pregnant wife, Lord’s name in vain, Christianity (obviously), and a fuck ton of fucking ANGST because fuck your feelings. hurt NO comfort, drama, oneshot, cursing, canon-typical violence, injury, and blood. character death and spoilers - yeah, i'm giving you THAT scene. requires maturity and caution. good luck.

also please note: NO, i do not age Osferth to be 16 - that's just a reference age for when he eventually runs away from the monastery.

again, you are missing nothing if this upsets or triggers you and you choose to skip. value your wellbeing, my angels. author is not responsible for the media YOU choose consume, but still, as usual, MDNI

"You should not be doing this sort of work," Ingrith's voice scolded you, and when you turned, you saw the blonde woman standing with her hip cocked and a stern expression. "It's bad for your health to be in such filth, we've stable boys for this sort of chore."

"I do not mind," you sniffled in the brisk air, shoveling the horse shit of the stable into a muck bucket to be dumped into the fields later. "It keeps me busy," you grunted lightly, sure to bend your knees when lifting the pitchfork, "keeps me humble," you listed, dumping the waste to grin at your friend, "and keeps me young."

"In what way?"

"Reminds me of my childhood," you eased, continuing your work. "I slept in a stable from the ages of 4 to... Oh, shit, I guess I was about 16 before I left The Loft."

"What?" She breathed in confusion. "Never knew that."

"Yeah, yeah, true story," you beamed at her, still shoveling shit. "I slept in the stalls with the horses, sometimes in the grain rooms - basically anywhere I could since my work didn't include official room and board, so, I had to make do with what was available. Then, one day when I was about ten, Old Man Rivers said I could use the hay loft if I cleared it out, fixed the rotten planks. Stayed up there till I was about 16, and after that, I kinda ran away."

"Old Man Rivers?"

You nodded, "My mother lived on his homestead, but she was real sick, you see. So, he kinda took me in without assuming responsibility for me," you cleared your throat, shrugging, "let me stay in his barn if I worked with the horses and livestock for him."

"Why would you want to be reminded of that?"

"Seems simpler when I look back."

Ingrith sighed, "C'mon, put the pitchfork down. Come help me prepare the rabbits. The scouts say the men aren't too far off, they'll want a hot meal."

You chuckled with ease and set your pitchfork aside, giving a hearty pat to one of the horse's necks as you passed by to exit the stable. Ingrith made sure you washed up before you were both mounting rabbits on the rack to start skinning them.

"Could I ask something?" She wondered after a time.

"Anything you'd like."

"Why'd you run away? From Old Man Rivers?"

You laughed, "I was in love."

"Oh, you and Baby Monk go that far back, huh?"

"Try even farther," you teased. "Our mothers were friends, and when I worked in the stable, he was in the monastery, but when he came to me, saying he couldn't do it any longer, I couldn't let him go alone. Life was supposed to offer more than what we were given, so, we set out to find the legendary barbarian, The Dane Slayer," you teased, both giggling, "our Lord, the legendary, Uhtred of Bebbanburg."

"And all this time...?" She smiled, watching you shuck hide like you've done it your whole life. Ingrith inferred you probably did.

"Yeah," you eased, "all this time, he's been by my side. Kept me close, never left me behind. The others weren't too sure about me on account of being a woman, they told us to piss off a few times - but they came around after Osferth refused to send me away."

"He's a good lad, Osferth," she nodded.

"Arguably one of the best ones," you agreed, nudging her arm gently, "but look who I'm telling, right?"

"Oh!" She giggled, swatting at you loosely before going back to your work for a moment. Suddenly, the townspeople of Rumcofa stirred to life, and over the voices, you heard them announcing their Lord's return - which meant all of your men were home. You both grinned and breathlessly left your post, Ingrith pausing a young lad to ask, "How many return to us?"

"Does it matter? Come, c'mon, let us see ourselves!" You all but squealed, overwhelmed with excitment; eager for your own reunion with the man you've loved since you were a young lass.

"Warn the alehouse!" Finan was heard shouting. "Osferth's thirsty!"

"Jesus," you laughed, dodging around the procession of people waiting to greet their warriors on their return home so you could approach the white gelding your husband rode.

His face was absolutely priceless when he caught sight of you. As Osferth eagerly dismounted, your hands smoothed over the small swell of your belly - purposefully wearing a dress that accentuated your ever-changing figure. "Am I dreaming?" He laughed, a stablehand taking hold of his horse so his hands were free to caress your belly. "Oh, my God, I'm not, 's real, oh, God," he beamed, laughing with you. "You're pregnant? Truly? Yes? I-I am not - I am not being deceived?"

"No, my love, I guess our prayers were finally heard."

"OH-HOOOO!" You heard Finan holler as Osferth finally pulled you in for a sweet kiss; both ignoring the Irishman. "Lord! LORD! Uhtred! Hey! Did you hear!? Baby Monk's got some spunk in 'im afta all!"

"Oh, God," you laughed against Osferth's lips, but he was quick to shush you with another breath-stealing kiss.

"A baby Baby Monk! AHA!" Finan was still laughing, your husband's hands caressing both your cheeks when he pulled back just in time for Finan to descend. You grunted lightly when his heavy arms dropped over both yours and Osferth's shoulders, his laugh still booming as he gave a squeeze and cooed, "Oh, congratulations, yah two love birds! Wasn't sure you had it innyah, boy!"

"Don't be so rough with her, Finan, for God's sake," Osferth scolded, nudging his friend to get out from under his arm.

"What?" Finan looked at you gobsmacked. "Sayin' I gotta treat yah different now or somethin'?"

"I didn't say that," you told him prettily with fluttering lashes, fist quickly balling up to jab him in the weak spot of his armor - making him grunt and wheeze. "Aht-aht!" You warned with a pointed finger when he flinched as if to retaliate, "Can't hit a pregnant woman."

"Oh, yeh li'l shite," Finan laughed, Osferth pushing him towards his wife so he could stand in front of you and command all attention.

Osferth took a moment to simply look at you; thumbs gently tracing over your cheeks in sweeping motions, a slow grin breaking across his lips. "This almost doesn't feel real... But how I have to praise God for this blessing. A baby," he breathed.

"A little you and me," you agreed softly. "Sound okay to you?"

"More than okay," he chuckled, pecking your lips, "sounds like a lifetime together."

"Good by me." His nose nuzzled up yours, the sweet moment broken when he sighed sadly; eyes shut and smile dropping. "What is it? What's wrong, love?" You asked, stepping into his embrace so you were nuzzled into his neck and his arms were wrapped around your form in a vice.

"Uhtred means to move us again," he whispered in your ear. "Brida, she... She's got Father Pyrlig, and - "

"What!?" You snapped, rearing back slightly to pin him under your hardened glare. Pregnancy hormones would surely give Osferth whiplash.

"My love, I did not - "

"Brida's got Pyrlig? Fuck are we standin' here for, let's go!" You reached for his hand, ready to march off.

"Uh, no, no, no, no," he pulled you back to him; anchoring his hands on your hips so you could not escape. "You are not going anywhere. Not now - especially now," he glanced at your still-growing bump. "The men will go, you know we will return, but you have this new responsibility, and that's keeping this little one safe. For us," he smiled at you.

You huffed, "I'm not unfit to do what needs done, Osferth."

"I did not say you were unfit, but look at the timing of it," he frowned. "I should've been here when you learned, but I was not, and I am truly so sorry for it. Look, I do not know how long this venture will be, but you know I will return. We've waited for our family for far too long, I will not jeopardize this - so I will return. If you go with us, and something were to happen," he shook his head, "my angel, I would never forgive myself. So I need you to stay here, stay safe, if for nothing else but for me."

"But Pyrlig - "

"Will be saved," he assured.

"And Brida - "

"Will be dealt with," he eased, chuckling lightly. "My angel, you worry too much about everyone and yet never about yourself."

You pouted, "Well, why is it just me meant to stay back? This is your child, too, Osferth, and should have the right to meet them! You can't always control what happens, accidents are real, what if you don't return - "

"Don't think like that - "

"But it's a real threat to us - "

He agreed, "Of course, but - "

"Yeah, I know," you nodded, cutting him off, "we serve Lord Uhtred. This comes first, and I'm not - "

"I've made a vow to him."

"You made one to me, too, you know."

"Angel, please, don't do this. Do not ask me to choose," he begged with a frown, and you caved.

So, with a sigh, you nuzzled into his embrace and relented, "All right, yes, fine, go after Brida and Pyrlig. And when you find them, tell him I am waiting for his safe return, he is dearly missed. Ideally, I'd have him birth our child."

"Of course," he breathed, finding a small reprieve of relief that you did not fight him further about leaving - about choosing which vow to fulfill: the one to his Lord Uhtred or the one to his wife.

Both made to God.

Luckily, Osferth married his best friend and you were never one to pick fights with him. You liked the harmony you had; the peaceful environment you had both cultivated to preserve the trust and love you built through the years. He was genuinely one of a kind; a man who walked many lines between faith, humanity, right, wrong. He was the voice of reason, constantly striving to do better than he did before, learning all he could as if a rag soaking in water. For all he was, Osferth has always been enough for you, and for that reason alone, you never felt the need to argue.

To fight. To voice contempt.

"Question," you perked up, smirking at him as your pregnancy symptoms ran a little wild, "think we've time to, you know, really give our thanks?"

"Angel - "

"What?" You grinned. "You fucked me on the alter all those weeks ago and look - your seed stuck. We might as well go give thanks in the same manner, just to really show God how thankful we are for this blessing he's given us."

"Think the Devil's gotten into you," he laughed.

"Or your child is ruining my hormones," you countered, his lips meeting yours in another passionate display of his excitement.

"C'mon," he whispered, taking your hand, and leading you to the chapel - thinking you were being sneaky, but your matching giggles made Ingrith and Finan beam at each other.

"He does know she can't get more pregnant, right?" Finan teased, flinching when Ingrith smacked his upper arm.

"WHY!?"

"My angel, please - "

"What the fuck is going on, Osferth!?"

"I'm trying to explain - "

"The Queen? The fucking Queen is dead in our village! How can that possibly be explained!?" When Osferth didn't answer, just sat in the wooden chair before the shared hearth of your humble home, you snapped, "Well!?"

"Are you finished? May I speak now?"

With a huff, you nodded and gestured for him to speak; arms crossing around your swollen tits. He explained to you the reason for Haesten's arrival, the wagon his men toted, and why he brought the Queen's dead body to the settlement of Rumcofa. He told you Haesten wanted to keep the peace when King Edward found out, claiming Uhtred's son-in-law, Stiorra's husband, Sigtryggr, had ordered this death - thinking war would surely roll over his lands.

You never knew Haesten to be a generous man, nor much of an honest one, but it seemed the severity of the situation made everyone eerily on-edge. Uhtred dispatched his men; leaving Finan and Osferth in the village with you, developing a plan that would save both Saxon and Danish life. And yet, it was all futile when evil forces worked against good.

You didn't feel safe in Rumcofa anymore, there was a stench in the air; tension that mounted to embrace all residents with discomfort. Something was about to happen, but nobody knew what. You didn't claim or pretend to know what was happening, but Haesten's abrupt appearance spelled danger for everyone involved. So, as a security measure, you kept a long sword buckled around your swelling waist and a dagger strapped under your skirts. With Lord Uhtred gone, there was no invisible fence protecting Rumcofa - leaving it up to you, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf to pose as guard.

Yet you'd never be enough.

Like the surf over sand, a group of angered men descended on Rumcofa. "Who's men are yah?" Finan asked, you lingering at Osferth's side to watch the interaction from a short distance.

"We come from the King," a burly Saxon replied, your head cocking in interest - swearing you've seen him before. "Dane murderers are hiding here and you must hand them over."

"You're mistaken, sir," you kindly offered, the man's eyes shifting over you, "because we live in peace. Any murderers have surely moved on from here. We do not host them."

The man growled, "Don't think that's true, love."

Finan held a hand back at you, meeting your eyes and nodding simply. He turned back for the man in fur, diverting, "Of course, my men will attend to it."

Finan turned from the group, his eyes connecting with yours as he passed by. There was urgency, a quickened pace he adopted; having no intention to hand anyone over, wanting to remove these men without bloodshed. However, that was a distant thought because Father Benedict tried to assure the Saxon leader that nobody in Rumcofa would murder Queen Aelflaed.

You wanted to step in when the Saxon evidently didn't know about the Queen's demise - getting in Benedict's face and demanding to see what he spoke of.

"No, no, no," you muttered nervously, "he can't see the body, love, no, no, no, this is bad. Very bad."

"We can't stop Father Benedict without altercation," Osferth whispered back, keeping a tight hold of your hand, just watching the group. "If something happens, you need to get yourself safe."

"How do we truly know they're from Edward? What credentials do they have?" When Osferth shook his head, you worried, "Got a bad feeling 'bout this, angel."

Then the violence began.

The strange men took charge when their leader walked away, starting to physically harass the citizens; making both you and Osferth step in to try and diffuse the tension. You pushed men off unarmed women, got in between them and the children, did what you could without drawing a weapon.

When a man shoved you away from him, Finan wrangled him away, sneering, "Get yer hands off of her!" He kept the violent men at bay for a moment, telling you, "You need to go, darling - "

"Not now, Fin, look around us! We need to contain the situation, you'll need all hands you can get," You snapped, the two of you forced to part way.

Osferth panted nervously and looked left and right, turning to meet the Saxon and demand, "Tell your men to stand down!" But then, his eyes squinted when you joined his side to pull him back a step or two, recognizing him just as you did.

"I don't think they're here for the Queen, love," you heaved for breath in warning, still backing him up. "They've planned this."

"Finan!" Osferth barked, "These men have been here before!"

The Saxon roared over the fray, "Danes of Rumcofa have murdered our Queen!" His men jeered in anger, making Finan brandish both swords and for Osferth to push you back further from the attention. "Do your duty and rid the cockles from the wheat!"

You were left no choice. Osferth and you both armed yourselves, starting to fight off the Saxons as their leader demanded Danes and Christians be separated. You were unable to help, engaged in battle, but Young Uhtred gathered the Danes and begged Father Benedict to declare the church a sanctuary - thinking it would save lives.

It was only leading the Danes to slaughter.

The Saxon, Bresal, punched Father Benedict when he tried to stand in the way; his men holding Young Uhtred in the doorway to let their men enter the church the Danes were gathered in. They forced Young Uhtred to watch the massacre - men, women, and Danish children all slaughtered with no escape. No hope. No answer to a single prayer. Nobody to stop this bloody situation.

You fought on, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf doing their best to protect you by keeping you in the middle of their wee group. But you still got plenty of action.

"This is madness!" You cried out, slicing a man's throat open. "We need aid! We need more men!"

"This way!" Finan encouraged, "We must cut a path for Ingrith! Check the docks! Check the docks!"

You and Osferth ran towards the water, Cynleaf not far away. You searched for Ingrith, but you had no time to linger; engaged one-on-one again, forced to protect yourself and unborn baby. Not a minute later, you saw Ingrith on horseback, being stalled by a Saxon and for your husband to rush to her aid. He punched the man away from the horse, you hacking at another enemy, in time to see Osferth engaging with two Saxons - one being the leader, Bresal.

It all happened so fast.

You were already racing towards them when the unexpected. Osferth was battling on two fronts, holding Bresal at bay, fending off the other Saxon, screaming for Ingrith, who only managed a few paces before the Saxon's dogs spooked her horse. The noise was deafening; people screaming, crying, dogs barking, horses whinnying, swords singing as they clashed.

You watched it happen in slow motion.

You sprinted faster than ever before.

"INGRITH!" Osferth bellowed in worry when her horse reared back and dropped her to the dirt. It left an opening for Bresal to stab his dagger into Osferth's lung - freezing time and wrecking your world.

"NO!" You screamed, Bresal smirking at you and yanking his dagger free. Osferth wobbled, eyes wide as he met yours, the Saxon walking away as Osferth dropped to his knees. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Oh, God, no, no, you can't take him - not yet! Please, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," You repeated, sliding on your knees in the dirt to catch him. "No, no, oh, my God, no, Osferth, no, please! Not now, not now, please, no, God, no! Don't do this! Please, please, please," you rambled, readjusting to better hold him, hearing Cynleaf and Finan yell for Baby Monk, too. You raged at God, "You can't take him yet! You can't have him! He's mine!"

But you heard nothing except your husband's labored breathing.

"An-Angel, angel, my angel," Osferth choked, wheezing and crying as he couldn't hold himself up and completely slumped back into your body. He pawed at your arms in an attempt to get closer.

"No, no, no, you're all right, you're okay, you're okay, my sweet love, you're all right," you insisted, hands stained in his blood as it poured from his wound. You knew it was essential to add pressure to a wound, but also, that this was all futile. Yet you needed to try. "Hey, hey, hey, look at me, just look at me, sweetheart, please, only look at me, nothing else matters," you pleaded with him in a rush, the lads sprinting to where you held your husband to your lap.

Nobody interrupted you.

"Where's the wound?" Osferth sobbed, trembling, blood spurting from his mouth; going paler by the minute. "Angel, please, the wound? Where's the wound?"

"No, no, no, don't worry 'bout that, hey? Don't you worry, you just keep looking at me," you sobbed, holding his neck and cradling him to your swollen belly. "Just at me, my love, okay? Just look at me - don't look anywhere else, okay? Nothing else matters."

"H-How bad? How ba-ba-bad-bad is i-it?"

"You're going to be all right," you lied to Osferth for the first time.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God," Osferth repeated through his tears and fears, "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die."

He held onto you desperately, sobbing, you slowly rocking. "No, you're all right, Osferth, it's okay, just look at me." You caressed his cheek, smearing blood, but locking eyes. "My love," you whispered, "listen to me - "

"I don't wanna die, please, please, angel, my love, please," he coughed, holding your arm tightly as if it would give him life. "Don't let me die," he wheezed, "don't let me die, my love, please, please. Don't let me die, I don't wanna die. I-I wanna meet our baby, please, I want to meet our baby, I want to be a father. Don't let me die, love, please, I-I wanna be your husband longer - "

"You'll never not be my husband and you'll never not be a father, hear me?" You sniffled, trying to smile at him. "Don't you worry, you're gonna be okay, you're okay, Osferth. You'll always be my husband, nothing will change that - I swear."

Blood pumped with each beat of his frantic heart, making it gush over your fingers. You didn't even feel it.

"Please," he choked, more blood bubbling from his lips, "don't let me die, I don't wanna die. Don't let me die, please, not now, not when our baby isn't here yet, please, I just wanna meet 'em, be a family, I wanna stay with you, don't let me go. Please, don't let me go, I don't want t'go! Don't let me - "

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm here with you. I'm right here, Osferth, you're not alone, you're never alone. I'm here. I've got you. I'll always have you, I won't ever let you go. Never."

He sobbed harder. "I don't wanna leave you. Please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be without you - " But the words choked him, a splatter spraying across your face when he coughed; you didn't even flinch.

"Listen to me," you begged, "I commend you, my dear, sweet husband, to Almighty God, and entrust you to your Creator."

Finan was heard behind you, retching jarring sobs as you read Osferth his death rite prayer. "Don't let me die," Osferth begged still, as if you held that power.

He had always looked at you as if you hung the sun and stars, and now, as if you were his very reason for living. You hated God in that moment for forcing you two through this.

"May you return to Him who formed you from the dust of the earth. May Holy Mary, the angels," now, you choked on your words, emotion clawing your throat, but still continued, "and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life. May Christ who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace." You sobbed, "May Christ who died for you admit you into His garden of paradise. May Christ, the true Shepherd, acknowledge you as one of His flock. May He forgive all your sins, and set you among those He has chosen. Amen. Please, please, say amen, Osferth, say it, please!"

"A-Amen - Amen!" He coughed, trying to get closer to you, nestling into your warmth as he felt impossibly cold. "Don't leave me, don't leave me, please, please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be alone. I can't go without you, please, don't let me go - don't let me die, angel, please, I can't go without you. I-I’ve never been without you my whole life, I don’t wish to start now. I love you. I-I love you, please, don't let me go, I love you. I need you."

"You'll never be without me," you promised, face coated in blood, grime, dirt, and ash; all streaked with your tear tracks. "You will always be my husband, hey? Hear me? You're always gonna be with me, I will never be apart from you. I'll love you forever, Osferth, I won't ever stop." You felt your chest cave in as you sobbed, "Please, don't you leave me - "

But Osferth was wheezing and panting, only staring up at you. "I only need you," he whimpered, "I've only ever needed you, I can't do this without you. Please, I can't - I can't go without you. I don't want to leave you, I can't leave you, please!'

"So don't leave me," you sobbed, him still clawing at you in desperation. "I love you more than life, Osferth, please, don't leave me, okay? Don't go. I love you so much. Being loved by you was my greatest pleasure in this life, I want our child to know your love, too, Osferth, please, don't go."

"I-I wanna meet our baby, I wanna hold 'em, love 'em," he repeated. "Please, this can't be the end, don't let this be the end. W-We have so much more - we were supposed to have eternity together, my love, my angel, please! This isn't the end, I can't - I can't go without you!"

"You're okay," you soothed uselessly, rocking more prominently. "Just stay with me, my love, okay? Stay with me. Don't go. Only look at me, all right? You hear me?" You sniffled, caressing his cheek. "You're the best thing in my life, Osferth, yeah? Understand me? Where you're going, y-you'll be welcomed a hero, with open arms. You'll be my own angel. My real angel. The reason I keep going for our child. An-And you'll stay there just for a little while until I join you, okay? You'll watch over us, me and the baby, right? Our own angel? Hey? 'Cause you'll never be part from us - you'll never be apart from me. You and I are a forever sorta thing, we'll never be apart, we'll always be part of each other no matter what."

Osferth lost his words, eyes widening and pulling you closer.

You just soothed, "I'm here with you, my love. I'm here, I've got you. You're not alone, I'm right here, I have you. I've got you. I love you. I love you so fucking much, Osferth, okay? I love you more than anything, you're my everything. I love you," you sniffled, breaking down in worse sobs, repeating, "I love you, I love you, I love you so much, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I wasn't faster, I love you, this shouldn't be happening. I'm so sorry, I should've come faster! I love you, I'm so sorry."

With his last breath, Osferth choked, "L-Love y-y-you."

"I love you," you hushed, bending at the waist to rest your forehead on his, "I love you so much. You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be all right, you'll be safe - where you're going, you'll be safe. I'm so sorry, my love... I'm so sorry."

You felt him go still. You felt the last of his breath exhale, his body deflate. You felt his soul detach from his body.

You froze.

"Oh, my God," you breathed, pulling back to look down at his petrified features. "Oh, my God, no, no, no. God, please, please, give him back," you sobbed, "give him back to me! Do not take him! It's not his time, you selfish cunt! Give him back! It wasn't supposed to end like this! Give him back to me, please! Please! This isn't how this was supposed to happen! We promised eternity together, please! Let us have that! Let us be together, give him back to me! I need him!"

Your shrill hysterics were heard all over Rumcofa.

Finan sobbed into his wife's arms behind you, Cynleaf knelt to slowly extend his hand onto your shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he offered, but you pushed him away harshly; knocking him into the dirt.

"No! I don't want your fucking condolences!" You snapped, holding Osferth tighter, "I want my husband! I want my husband back! Can you give him to me? Can you, Cynleaf? Can you give him back to me!?"

"No - "

"Then you have nothing to offer me! I want nothing else, nothing from you! I only want him!" You looked away from the young lad, finding Osferth's wide open eyes staring up at you. You whimpered, "I only need him, so, please. Please, give him back to me. Please. I need him, I need him, I can't do this without him, please, God, don't do this. You take so many lives, why add him to the mix!? Give him back! C'mon," you begged the cooling body, "c'mon, love, get up. Get up for me, please, just wake up. Come back to me, get up... Get up, Osferth, get up! Please! WAKE UP!"

But Osferth never moved. Never blinked. Never drew breath. And God never answered your pleas. Your dress was saturated in your husband's blood; a pooling puddle seeping into your knees, bodice drenched, his baby moving in your belly. You wailed into the still air, holding your husband tight to your chest; mouth agape to release the terrible screams of anguish, tears never ending, rocking on your knees. You didn't know what to feel... But devastation was prominent.

You wept until your throat went raw, jaw tender from your open mouth. "I'm so sorry!" You repeated, "I should've been quicker! I should've been at your side! You shouldn't have been alone! This is my fault! This is all my fault, I shouldn't have been away from you. I should've been with you, you did not deserve this end. Please! Forgive me, wherever you are, forgive me, I did not intend for this, I shouldn't have left you, I should've been at your side, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, I'm so sorry."

"No," Ingrith whispered, "no, do not say this is your fault, you did nothing - "

"Exactly!" You snapped at her, eyes ablaze, her husband silent. "I did nothing, I wasn't with him! I wasn't where I was supposed to be! And he was stabbed because of you!"

Finan whispered your name in reprimand.

"No! How many times have you rode a fucking horse, Ingrith!? And now, today, the time it truly matters, you fall; you posed distraction," you sobbed, crumpling in on yourself. "He was distracted by your fall... This shouldn't've happened, this is all wrong!"

The trio just watched you, knowing your emotions were raw and unwavering, that your words did not have meaning because your husband had just died in your arms. Hours passed, you did not move. Hours passed, your husband did not return. Hours passed, and your heart shattered with each passing breath you selfishly drew.

Because living felt selfish now without Osferth.

"Sweet one," Finan whispered, the sun setting, "we should move him. Bring him to the church so Benedict can pray."

Your head shook, "No."

"Darlin', we have to - "

"No," you whimpered, "because if you take him to Benedict, it's real. If we move, he's truly gone... He can't be gone, Finan," you sobbed, meeting your friend's eyes. "If you move him, he's gone, I'm not ready to say goodbye, please. Please, don't take him from me."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, "but he should be laid to rest."

"Don't take him from me," you begged, a new wave of tears starting. "I just - we were supposed to be a family. We were supposed to have this baby, and now, it's just me? This cannot be, so please, don't take him from me, I only need him back. Give him back to me, Finan, please, I can't be without him."

"I know," he nodded, gently encouraging you into his embrace. It meant you had to let go of Osferth, something you did slowly and gradually, leaning into the Irishman's chest. "All right, I got yah," he whispered, looking to his wife. "C'mon, stand with Ingrith. I'll carry him."

"Be gentle," you sobbed, feeling Ingrith grip your arms to help heave you to your feet; watching Finan scoop Osferth over his shoulder. The change of position made more blood splatter to the dirt, your heart stalling in your chest when you heard the mess.

You felt your soul shriveled and hidden somewhere deep in your chest, following as if in a trance. You watched Finan and Cynleaf slowly lower Osferth to the ground with the other dead Danes, feeling yourself drop to the ground in shock.

Seeing Osferth amongst the dead made it so much more real.

"It's all my fault," you sobbed, Finan moving to your side, "it's all my fault, I got him killed. I should've been quicker. This is my fault, my fault, I did this, 's my fault."

Finan knelt beside you, bringing your foreheads together to hold you tightly and let you sob into his embrace. "You didn't do this," he promised, "you did nothing wrong. You are not at fault. Do not carry this guilt."

You sobbed without reprieve.

Young Uhtred halted Father Benedict from praying over the Danes, telling the older man they had different customs, but looked back at you. He asked your name softly, wondering, "Do you wish for a prayer for... Him?"

Even Young Uhtred couldn't stomach the truth, avoiding using Osferth's name out of sheer disbelief.

"That'd be nice," Finan agreed, turning to sit beside you and hold you under his arm. You leaned into his embrace, head to his shoulder. "She read him his death rites when... It happened."

Young Uhtred nodded, bowing his head, leading, "Our Father, Who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, On earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

Then, you joined from under Finan's heavy arm, sobbing through your words, "Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death."

Benedict finished, "Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end."

Together, you, Ingrith, Young Uhtred, Benedict, Finan, and even Cynleaf ended, "Amen."

Feeling the most level-headed, Ingrith stepped in and directed the men; informing that Young Uhtred should lead the remaining Danes to Daneland, Finan and Cynleaf would meet Uhtred on the road, and she would accompany you to Wessex - where Osferth could be laid to rest at the place of his birth. Then, the people mourned together for their fallen.

Finan disagreed initially, telling his wife you were his responsibility now that Osferth was passed. But there was no way you could continue with the company, not in your pregnant state. Finan didn't like the idea of you being without him, considering you close to a sister; something of a best mate, someone he couldn't turn his back on - no matter the situation. However, he understood the predicament and finally agreed to part ways, but not before he untied Osferth's crucifix and latched it around your neck. At the gates of Rumcofa, before separating, Finan gifted you his rosary; thinking it might bring comfort in his physical absence.

Years from then, you would bring up a single son named Gabriel (a name your husband favored, a name benefitting an Angel) under Lord Uhtred in his birthplace of Bebbanburg. You never remarried. You never even so much as looked after another man with lust. Gabriel would grow into a handsome warrior and a devoted man of God, satisfied on tales about his father; being painted as a man of honor, integrity, and bravery. Osferth, too, was a man of God, a man of the sword, and a man of his word... Until the very end. And when your time came, you were brought back to Wessex to be laid to rest with your husband; your son having a son, naming him Osferth, and knowing, both his parents shined down on him in pride.

It was a comfort for everyone to know, somewhere in the afterlife, in God's warmth, you and Osferth were reunited; looking just as you did the day you parted from one another.

requesting rules and masterlist

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starrierknight · 1 year

Text

𝟎𝟏𝟎. 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 ❛𝐧❜ 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲

“Here's to alcohol, the rose colored glasses of life.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned

MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER 23' | AO3

wc— 8.8k

pairing— dom!gn!reader x lightweight!sub!gojo

cws/tags— dubcon, sex under the influence, drinking, humiliation, mild dumbification, friends to lovers (with a healthy dose of mutual pining), in vino veritas, frottage/dry humping, cum & spit as lube, handjob, reader has boobs/AFAB reader, tit-fucking, overstimulation, edging, multiple orgasms, cum eating, dacryphilia, mix of praise & degradation, petnames: “slut” + “needy” + “cutie”, major spoilers for the horror film ‘Saw’ (2004), netflix n chill type beat

As the warm, sunset hues gradually dimmed and dusk settled in, you found yourself lounging on the plush couch, accompanied by your cat. With the Netflix menu at your fingertips, you eagerly searched for the perfect film with the perfect plot twist to heighten the evening's atmosphere.

It’s October, after all. The perfect time to embrace the unexpected.

From the distant corner of the room, the familiar click of the front door echoed, signalling Satoru's arrival for your movie night. Satoru stepped in, shedding his jacket and slipping off his shoes, the weariness of his day evident in his movements. He lifted his blindfold off and tossed it over his shoulder. After placing his travel bag and jacket down, he made his way to the couch, collapsing beside you without a word, his attention fixated on the television.

The sudden movement caused your cat to startle and gracefully leap off the couch, retreating to a safer distance. A soft chuckle escaped you, breaking the tranquil ambiance, and you turned your focus to Satoru.

"Long day?"

He hummed in affirmation, the day's fatigue evident in the lines of his face, though his gaze remained fixed on the Netflix options. A beat passed before he let out a sigh, a note of weariness accompanying his words.

"A very long day," he confessed, his exhaustion palpable. He made a vague gesture towards the television, groaning playfully. "Do we have to watch another horror movie?"

You couldn't help but smile at his weary demeanour. "It's October. It's, like, a crime to not watch horror during October." You sighed and stretched out on the couch, a touch of playful reproach in your tone. "Don't tell me you're getting bored of them," you teased, giving him a gentle nudge.

He made an exasperated noise, although it carried a half-hearted quality.

"Okay, fine. But if I have nightmares tonight, I'm blaming you. I don't sleep well enough as it is," he joked, crossing his arms and allowing himself to relax on the couch.

The weariness of the day seemed to lift a little as the familiar comfort of your home surrounded him. He closed his eyes, finding solace in the quiet and the purring warmth of the cat that had rejoined him on the couch. The cat settled on his lap, seeking both company and warmth against the encroaching evening chill.

Amused, you couldn't help but snicker. "A sorcerer afraid of horror movies? Now that's a plot twist. Aren't you used to much scarier things in your line of work?"

"And I would have thought someone with free time would pick up a hobby or two," he retorted with a playful grin, absently stroking the cat's head as she purred contentedly. "Besides, most movies are a pale comparison to what I have to face day to day."

You snorted. "Was that a jab? It better not have been a jab." Your grin widened as you continued flicking through the various options Netflix had to offer. "Trust you to get bored of horror films."

"Can you blame me? I deal with curses and evil spirits all day long. I'm allowed to want to watch something light and fluffy from time to time, like a real man," he retorted, a hint of mock defensiveness in his voice.

His gaze remained shut, as if he were still savouring a mental escape into a different world. "Don't laugh, I'm serious," he added, pretending to be stern.

You chuckled and quickly stifled it with your hand, grinning. "Oh, I'm not laughing. Promise."

His head tilted, and he finally opened his eyes, turning in your direction to gauge your playful expression. "You know I can hear you, right?"

You continued to laugh, attempting to stifle it unsuccessfully. "I’m your friend! I'd never laugh at you."

A very mild, almost imperceptible scowl settled on Satoru's otherwise handsome features. He continued to stroke the cat on his lap, muttering under his breath, "Oh, sure, you wouldn't. I believe you. Absolutely."

You couldn't help but smile at his mock irritation and stood up, tossing Satoru the remote. "Pick a horror film we've not seen before. I'll be back in a second, I need to get some... supplies to make this more entertaining for you."

Satoru looked up with a bemused expression as your words sank in, his eyes tracking your movements as you made your way out of the living room, still cradling the cat on his lap.

"Supplies?" he asked blankly.

"Just pick out something!" you called over your shoulder, a mischievous hint in your voice, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Satoru did as you asked, perusing Netflix's selection of movies before eventually settling on a particular one. When you returned from the kitchen, he looked up from the screen, holding the remote out. However, instead of handing it over, he pulled it away before you could even attempt to retrieve it from him.

"I'll give it to you if you tell me what these supplies are," he challenged, an amused glint in his eyes.

You smirked, taking your hands out from behind your back to reveal a large bottle of vodka and two shot glasses. "The best kind of supplies, of course."

Satoru raised his eyebrows, visibly intrigued. With his head tilted forward once more, he gazed at you with a wide grin. "No way in hell am I touching that crap."

Your smile only grew wider as you plopped down beside him on the couch, placing the vodka bottle and shot glasses on the coffee table. You reached over and snatched the remote from him, determined to make the night more exciting.

"We are playing a drinking game, since horror apparently bores you so much. So, yes, actually—you are touching 'that crap'," you declared.

A touch of liquid courage couldn’t hurt, right?

Satoru let out a dry chuckle and pushed a stray lock of hair out of his face before speaking, his voice tinged with a hint of self-assuredness.

"There's not a single horror movie in existence that could hold a candle to the kind of nightmares I experience on a regular basis. But playing a drinking game is fine too, I suppose."

The cat on his lap meowed and nuzzled his leg, leaving a trail of white, fluffy cat hairs on his sweatpants. You reached over to scratch the cat under her chin, and she responded by nuzzling your hand and purring contentedly.

"Aw, you scared? You a scaredy cat?" you teased affectionately.

Her purring grew louder at your attention, and she rolled over on her stomach, presenting her fluffy belly to you, begging for more scratches. Satoru watched the interaction with a slight smirk, his reservations waning. He was always weak when it came to you, after all.

"So what are the rules of this drinking game?" he asked, shifting his attention from the cat to the impending movie night.

You hummed thoughtfully and glanced at the TV, noting that he had chosen 'Saw' (2004) for your viewing pleasure.

"Oh, excellent choice. I haven't seen this one. Let's see... There's a creepy doll, right?" You paused to think. "We drink when someone dies, when we see the doll, when there's a flashback, and... when someone begs for their life. How's that sound?"

Satoru hummed in agreement and nodded as he regarded your game proposal. "Fine by me."

He reached for the vodka bottle and poured you both a shot glass, raising his glass in a teasing toast. "To your health."

With a grin, he knocked back his shot, though his facial expression morhphed to betray his distaste for the vodka. You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, well aware of his aversion to alcohol. As 'Saw' began playing, you followed suit, knocking back your own shot and settling in next to Satoru, continuing to pet the contented cat on his lap.

The cat purred in response to your attention, adding a soothing background to the tension-filled movie. As the film progressed, you both quickly downed shots within the first half-hour, and while you were still relatively sober, a gentle fuzziness began to envelop the edges of your thoughts.

"Your rules are killing me," Satoru whined. "Ugh, I'll be shitfaced by the time the film ends."

In an attempt to keep up, he downed another shot, grimacing at the familiar burn in his throat. Despite his initial reservations, Satoru found himself enjoying the game more than he had anticipated.

You couldn't help but grin smugly, your fingers affectionately ruffling his fluffy, white hair. "Aw, you're such a lightweight. Don't pass out. That's no fun."

Satoru chuckled, leaning into your touch, savouring the sensation. He downed yet another shot—to drown out his nerves, though he wouldn’t admit it—and his laughter quickly devolved into a fit of amused coughs.

"Hey, you're the one trying to get me drunk off my ass," he accused with a lazy smirk.

You leaned closer, your tone conspiratorial. "I'm not trying—I'm succeeding, thanks."

As the movie continued to unfold, you both found yourselves inching closer to each other on the couch, stealing glances when you thought the other wasn't looking. The cat, purring contently, basked in the attention as you pet her, and occasionally, your fingers would gently brush against Satoru's, almost by accident.

Almost.

Satoru leaned in closer, his shoulder pressing firmly against yours as he downed another shot of vodka, the effects of the alcohol becoming more noticeable for him. You both sank deeper into the couch, the cat purring even louder as she wiggled her way into your arms, cradled by you. The euphoria of the moment began to envelop you—how could it not, with Satoru by your side?

Satoru, on the other hand, seemed to be feeling the effects of the vodka more profoundly. He made a show of yawning casually and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, his actions less coordinated than usual as he accidentally knocked the throw blanket of the back of the sofa.

"Smooth," you mumbled, a soft laugh escaping you.

Satoru hummed in agreement, the alcohol altering his inhibitions. His arm shifted, fingers now gently tracing patterns on your collarbone, sending delightful shivers down your spine. You could feel your body reacting to his touch, a combination of warmth, shivers, and a tingle of pleasure that made your senses dance.

He leaned in even closer, the proximity causing a playful struggle for space on your lap with the cat, who mewled in complaint. His breath brushed against your ear, and he whispered, "You say somethin’?"

Your lazy grin persisted as you whispered into his ear, "You can hold my hand if you're scared, y'know... No need to be strong for my sake."

The sound of your whisper ignited a fiery rush of heat through Satoru's body. The intimacy of the moment hung heavy in the air, and he didn't say a word or make a move, allowing the sensation of being so close to you to wash over him. If you were listening closely, you might have been able to hear the rapid rhythm of his heart hammering away behind his ribs.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice husky and low, his lips dangerously close. "I'm not scared," he purred, "I just wanna hold your hand."

Your teasing continued as you cooed to the cat, playfully chanting, "Scaredy cat, scaredy cat, scaredy cat," while showering her with drunken kisses to her fluffy head.

"Shut up," Satoru retorted, a hint of a grin on his face as he lightly tickled your neck with the tip of his finger.

The cat meowed contentedly in your arms as you continued to lavish her with attention. Satoru, not one to be left out, reached out to stroke her fur with his other hand. He pressed himself even closer to you, his cheek resting against your chest, and let out a contented sigh. The world around you seemed to blur as you sank deeper into the intimate cocoon you had created together on the couch.

You rested your cheek against Satoru's soft, white hair, the movie playing in the background mostly forgotten as you both enjoyed this newfound closeness. The effects of alcohol were evident in his lowered inhibitions, causing him to startle at violent scenes in the film, jolting against you. He did, in fact, grab your hand at one point.

"Aw, 'toru... You're so scared," you teased, a grin tugging at your lips.

Satoru pressed even closer to you, his body intimately connected to yours. His soft hair tickled your skin, and his fingers gently traced patterns against your flesh, creating a dance of touch and warmth.

He hummed in amusement and leaned his head back, his gaze fixed on the screen though distant and glazed. It was clear he relished being close to you, his words carrying a slur that reflected the relaxed state he was in. "’S true. I'm a scaredy cat…"

"Say it again... I dare ya," you encouraged, poking his cheek.

The alcohol was affecting his thought processes, his words coming out sweet and slurred. "I'm... ‘M a scaredy cat," he whispered, his voice barely audible, his gaze half-lidded and dreamy.

He reached up and gently placed a hand on your cheek, his fingers tenderly trailing over your skin. "You... You're so pretty," he murmured, the words filled with sincerity and a touch of awe.

The alcohol had loosened his tongue, allowing him to share a sentiment that perhaps he wouldn't have expressed otherwise. He had plenty of experience thinking of you as pretty, as gorgeous, as stunning—but saying it out loud? Now, that was uncharted territory. Acting on it? Only in his dreams, or those late nights he spent thinking about you when he couldn’t sleep.

"You're so drunk," you whispered, a smile playing on your lips as you looked down at him, his head resting against your chest.

Satoru emitted a grumbling noise in response, clearly feeling the effects of the alcohol, but then leaned in closer to your ear, his words laden with desire. "And you're so soft ‘n’ warm ‘n’ pretty. Wanna do more than just hold your hand..."

His words trailed off, a frown forming on his face as he struggled to find the right words. The alcohol had muddled his brain, his mind racing with lust-fueled fantasies that he found difficult to separate from his tamer conversation he typically had with you.

You were about to respond when a gunshot sounded from the TV, causing the cat on your lap to startle and scamper away in fear. The abrupt interruption made you burst into laughter, and you reached over to the coffee table, attempting to pour yourself another shot, albeit missing the glass.

"Oops," you giggled as you tried to regain your composure.

You lifted the shot glass to your lips and knocked it back, the burn of the vodka a welcome distraction from the rising tension in the room. You made a playful show of sipping it, and he noticed the few drops of vodka dribbling down your chin.

"Oh, I'll take care of that," he offered, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Leaning forward, he lapped up the remaining vodka off your mouth. His lips were soft against your skin, but the sensation sent shivers down your back, the feelings of lust growing stronger with each passing minute.

You blinked in surprise, caught off guard by his unexpected action, and gently batted him away. "Mm... 'toru, you're drunk,'' you mumbled in a half-hearted protest.

"So are you," he purred, brushing his fingertips down the column of your neck. "'M getting so, so tired of just holding your hand..."

His words were slow and deliberate, the effects of the alcohol manifesting in both his speech and movements. He reached forward and traced his fingers along your jawline, subtly urging you to lift your chin, as if he wanted to kiss you. His words were slurring together and he was practically glued to you now, doing poorly at hiding the raw desire in his gaze.

You let out an exasperated groan. "But the game... I wanna finish the drinking game," you whined, attempting to steer the focus back to the film.

"I wanna finish, too... But not in the way you're thinking of," Satoru replied, his words carrying a seductive tone, his gaze fixated on your lips. The alcohol had clouded his judgement, blurring the lines between desire and restraint.

He leaned in even closer, not fully registering your discomfort with the proximity. His primal instincts were taking over, fueled by the alcohol. He wanted to bite, to taste, to make you his.

You groaned again and prodded his chest, attempting to gently redirect his attention. "I wanna know who Jigsaw is, though," you grumbled, gesturing vaguely toward the television as the film continued to play.

Satoru's actions were fueled by desire and amplified by the effects of alcohol. He snickered and wrapped both of his arms around your body, his movements slow and deliberate. His touch was both tender and electric, each caress sending waves of heat through your body.

"He’s John Kramer," he whispered against your neck, his voice laced with desire that sent shivers down your spine. "Jigsaw’s name he took up after he was… Ah, what’s the word? Um… Oh, diagnosed with inoperable brain cancer."

A satisfied hum escaped Satoru, and his hands began tracing a pattern on your body, teasingly close to the hem of your t-shirt. The sensation left you feeling hot and yearning for more.

You turned your head toward him, a drunkenly exasperated look on your face. "How the hell d'you know that?" you muttered. "You've not seen this before..."

"I’m a genius," he quipped, his confidence bolstered by the alcohol.

He placed another kiss on your neck, this time closer to your jaw, and you could feel his lips tugging and nibbling at your skin, igniting a rush of pleasure. His half-lidded gaze was fixated on your mouth, a silent plea to indulge in the desire that had been building between you.

You couldn't help but sigh, your exasperation giving way to a soft laugh. "Prick... You worked it out," you admitted. “You always spoil the twists.”

Satoru chuckled quietly under his breath, his hand still resting on your cheek, his fingers continuing their sensual trail along your jawline. It was as though he couldn't make a simple movement without infusing it with an enticing quality.

His gaze remained fixated on your lips, their perfection and inviting allure captivating his attention. The alcohol-induced haze seemed to have amplified his desires, leaving him irresistibly drawn to the intimacy that lingered between you.

Satoru leaned in, his warm breath tickling your ear, and he posed a question that sent a shiver down your spine. "You wanna finish this game?"

"What, are you John Kramer now?"

But Satoru appeared to be paying little attention to your words, his chest rising and falling against yours as his breath grew heavier. He moved in closer, brushing his lips tantalisingly against your own, teasingly slow and maddeningly tempting, but not a real kiss.

Once more, he whispered against your ear, his voice filled with longing. "You're so beautiful," he groaned, his words sending a jolt of desire coursing through your body.

"You spoiled the film for me, 'toru," you grumbled, a playful frown on your face. "Make it up to me."

Satoru's breath still lingered against your ear as he responded with a husky murmur, "I can think of a few ways." His tongue began to tease your jawline, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Fuckin’ tease. So soft ‘n’ perfect, and I want you..." he muttered, his words a seductive melody that continued to set your senses ablaze.

Frustrated by the teasing and unable to resist any longer, you rolled your eyes and lunged towards Satoru, overshooting slightly and accidentally bumping his nose. In the first few seconds, he seemed stunned, caught off guard by the sudden embrace. But as realisation dawned, he responded fiercely and passionately, wrapping his arms around you and pressing himself into you, the connection intensifying with each passing moment.

Your hand fumbled in an attempt to caress Satoru's face but ended up getting tangled in his hair. Satoru, equally tipsy, giggled and attempted to steady you by grabbing your shoulder but nearly lost balance himself, tipping into the sofa cushions.

Your mouths meshed together, a flurry of enthusiastic, sloppy kisses—wrestling match of lips and tongues, each trying to find a rhythm but failing gloriously. You broke apart momentarily, wiping your mouths and laughing at yourselves and the mess you had made.

He struggled to catch his breath, panting heavily. "Wow..." he murmured, his voice husky and strained. "Where’d that come from?"

You laced your fingers into his hair, tugging slightly, and kissed up the column of his neck, whispering into his ear, "You spoiled all the fun. Make it up to me."

Satoru's body responded almost immediately to your touch, a guttural sound escaping him as desire surged through him. He was at the mercy of your presence, and the intensity of his longing for you only grew by the second.

"Mm..." he managed, his voice thick with desire. "You're so demanding. I like that." His grip on your chin was firm but gentle as he pulled you closer, your faces inches apart. "Kiss me again," he requested, his desire palpable in his voice.

Satoru shuddered and let out a low, primal sound as you kissed him, the electricity between you electrifying the very air. He attempted to say something, but you drowned his words with your passionate kisses, losing yourselves in the intoxicating connection. Your tongues danced and intertwined, the taste of vodka on his lips adding to the fervour of the moment. He trembled, unable to contain his reaction to your touch, surrendering to the sensations that coursed through him.

The feel of your fingers running through his hair and the sensation of your tongue against his neck drove him wild. He wrapped one arm securely around your body, pulling you closer, fitting together like two puzzle pieces that belonged perfectly—exclusively—to each other. The world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you, consumed by the intensity of your desire and the magnetic pull you shared.

You shifted on the couch, straddling Satoru, the chemistry between you undeniable as you continued your passionate kiss. Satoru gasped and let out a low moan, his eyes closing as he surrendered to the desire that surged within him. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers flexing and exploring the curves of your body, desperate and hungry.

Your mouths danced in a wild frenzy, tongues intertwining. Every touch, every movement, sent electricity through both of you. Satoru struggled to contain himself, your presence rendering him powerless in the most enticing way. His hands roamed up your thighs, teasing and tempting, the sensation leaving you both breathless.

Slowly, you ground against each other, the pleasure intensifying with each movement. Satoru groaned softly, his head rolling to the side as he fought to maintain a semblance of control. But the intimate contact and suggestive position made it nearly impossible for him to hold back completely.

Whispering again, his voice husky and strained with lust, he let out a breathless, "Oh, my God..."

Satoru's deep groans filled the room, his pretty blue eyes now nearly rolled back into his head, completely consumed by the intense desire coursing through him. His grip on you tightened, almost painfully so, as he clung to you desperately, unable to get enough.

You continued to grind against him, kissing, biting, and sucking his neck in a frenzied display of passion. Satoru's control was slipping away rapidly. His fingers flexed around your hips, exerting a pressure that bordered on pain, but he was powerless to stop himself. Lust had transformed him into an unbridled animal.

"No... No, no, no..." he groaned under his breath, his voice strained and filled with desperation. "This is... Too much... I can't take much more of this..."

His movements against you grew more urgent, the veneer of control slipping away as he allowed his desires to guide him. Satoru's movements grew more uncoordinated, and he seemed to have lost all concern for your comfort. His focus was solely on his own pleasure, his desire pushing him to the brink of abandon.

He pressed himself against you, moaning deeply as he buried his face in your neck, his grip on your hips unrelenting. His tongue and lips moved sloppily across your skin, and he seemed to have surrendered to the overwhelming sensations that were coursing through his body. His movements were fueled by a deep lust that made it seem like no one but you could satisfy him.

He pressed his body against yours with an urgent pace, each movement dictated by an insatiable craving. You could feel the pressure of his teeth against your skin as he sucked hard, his whispered words barely audible in the midst of his lust-fueled frenzy.

"S-stop…! I-I... Need to... Need to..." he stammered, his struggle for coherence evident as he fought against the consuming desire.

But you felt his rhythmic movements, a desperate rocking that reflected the depth of his longing, and you knew better. He was painfully hard, and he needed you too badly to stop now. He could feel the pre-cum dripping down the length of his aching cock, confined by his boxers and layers of clothing. The warm, wet stickiness coated the cotton of his underwear, but he wished more than anything that it was your skin.

His legs twitched, and his grip on your hips remained tight, a lifeline as if he feared you might slip away. His forehead glistened with sweat, his heavy breaths filling the air, passion that holding him captive. He had become a vessel, lost in the overwhelming storm of desire, struggling to regain control even as he knew he was slipping further away.

The desperation in Satoru's voice was palpable, a clear indication of the battle raging within him. You were on the edge of concern for his well-being, but the potent mix of desire and alcohol clouded your judgement. He was slipping further into the abyss of lust, his once coherent thoughts succumbing to the overpowering need.

His hips moved up and down against you, his body aching for release, his muscles flexing and tensing in his struggle to maintain a semblance of control. "Stop... Just... Can't..." he groaned in frustration. "Oh, please, God I need to..."

"C'mon, 'toru. Take what m'giving you and make it up to me," you whispered into his ear.

Satoru's face flushed, and he choked on his breath, trying to comprehend your words amidst the chaos of his senses. After a moment, the meaning of your demand seemed to register, and his voice faltered as he attempted to respond. But words failed him, and all that escaped were incomprehensible babblings of pleasure and need.

"P-please... I... Can't... It's too g-good. Oh, fuck..." he struggled to articulate, the intensity of the moment rendering him nearly incoherent.

A loud, primal moan escaped Satoru as he reached his orgasm, the intensity of the pleasure overwhelming him as he gasped and shuddered. You pulled back, drunkenly giggling as you teased him. Your fingers ran through his sweaty hair, pushing the damp strands away from his eyes.

"Aw... You came already?" you taunted.

Satoru's body trembled with the aftermath of pleasure. Your touch was almost too much for him to bear as he rested his head on your chest, his eyes wide open, his mind temporarily blank as he grappled with the enormity of what had just transpired. He was so lost in his own satisfaction that he failed to fully grasp your teasing.

"Mm... Yeah," he mumbled, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "Sorry... I... Lost control."

Still shaking, Satoru looked at you, his flushed face and trembling body bearing witness to the intense release he had experienced. He attempted to speak again, but only a low groan escaped his lips.

"So needy," you remarked.

Satoru appeared completely exhausted, as if he had just completed a gruelling marathon rather than experiencing the intense pleasure that had overcome him during your passionate encounter. The intensity of the moment had left its mark, and he remained lost in the aftermath, struggling to regain his composure and find the right words to express himself.

Satoru continued to tremble, his body still awash in waves of pleasure and clouded by the effects of the vodka. Your teasing and taunting in these vulnerable moments made his heart race, and he responded with a lack of shame.

"Fuck, I am... And I'll admit it, too… God, I really am pathetic. I got off in... In so little time," he confessed, his words carrying a sense of unabashed satisfaction.

You smiled and tenderly caressed his flushed cheeks, cupping them in your hands and feeling the warmth of his skin against your palms. His proximity, your words, and the sensuality of the moment had his heart racing, and he couldn't help but respond to your every move.

"It's cute... So cute, so slutty," you whispered, your voice filled with affection.

Experimentally, you rolled your hips against him, biting your lip provocatively. Satoru's body reacted immediately, his breath quickening as he tilted his head, his eyes filled with desire. His hands instinctively gripped your hips once more, and a cute squeak escaped his lips as you continued to caress him, your hips moving in a slow and sensual rhythm.

You giggled and rolled your hips again, squishing his cheeks in your hands. "Mmm, you're so cute when you're drunk..."

Satoru was still sensitive, and your movements sent shivers of pleasure coursing through him. His own desire remained unabated, and he couldn't help but respond to your playful advances, the intensity of the moment making it impossible for him to resist.

"Mm... Mmm... God..."

Satoru's body responded yet again, his breaths growing heavy and laboured. His heart raced, each beat echoing loudly in his ears, his trembling hands betraying the intensity of his desire.

"N-no... Not like this... S-stop..." he mumbled, his words slurring together, unable to distinguish between his body's reaction to lust and the effects of alcohol. "It's... T-too much..."

"Needy, needy slut," you continued to taunt.

Your kisses on his neck and the sensation of your fingers through his hair sent electric shocks of pleasure through his body. He was losing himself completely in his response to your touch, the boundaries between pleasure and the haze of intoxication blurring.

"Mm... Mmm... No... No, stop..." he begged, his words transforming into a plea. Your lips on his neck were driving him wild, eliciting loud moans and gasps from deep within him.

Satoru let out a low-pitched moan as you teased and whispered sinful words into his ear. You overwhelmed him, and even though he knew it was all a game, he found himself playing into it more than he let on. His body was completely at your mercy, and he felt his muscles tensing and contracting as he tried to hold back from cumming again, still so sensitive from the last time.

"Stop…! Too much... I-I know what you're doing... I-I... Can't take it..." he gasped. "’S too much... You're killing me..." he moaned.

Satoru's control over his body had vanished entirely at this moment. Lost in the whirlpool of lust, he was begging for more. His voice shook as he protested, his whole body trembling as he struggled to maintain some semblance of restraint. Unable to stop himself, he leaned into you, his head tilting as you kissed, licked, and caressed his neck.

"Needy, pathetic slut," you murmured into his ear.

"Too... Fuck... Mmmm...." he mumbled, his voice hoarse and his body writhing. "Please..." he begged. "Don't... Do that... I can't stop... Not like this... Please..."

He heard every taunt you said, but the overpowering rush of euphoria had him gasping and moaning, unable to hold back any longer. He gave in.

Satoru's body trembled as he came again, his moans escaping his lips incoherently. His eyes were rolled back in sheer ecstasy, his face contorted in pleasure. Afterward, he remained still and silent for a moment, basking in the afterglow of his release. His breathing slowly calmed, and he stared blankly into space, lost in the post-orgasmic haze.

As the credits of the film rolled on the television, you continued to stroke his hair and affectionately kissed his cheek. "Cutie, so blissed out," you murmured.

Satoru's heart beat slowly and gently, his body relaxed and content. He seemed to be in a state of pure satisfaction.

"Mm... Mmm... H-hm...?" he mumbled in response.

Satoru smiled and brought his fingers up to his cheek, where you had kissed him. He ran them softly across his face, savouring the lingering sensation. He was gradually regaining his sense of self, but a look of contentment still lingered. He rested his head back on the sofa and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

"You… You know how to make a guy's legs go weak," he murmured, smiling lazily.

You smirked and rocked your hips against him slowly, watching him hiss through gritted teeth. "Seems like it, yeah."

Satoru let out a low growl of desire and tightened his grip on your shoulders, his fingers digging into your skin. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he asked, his voice laced with a mix of playfulness and desire.

You tilted your head coyly, running your fingers along his jawline. "Maybe. Is that a problem?"

He chuckled softly, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. "Not at all. In fact, I think it's only fair. You’re having fun teasing me, driving me nuts."

You let out a laugh. "Teasing is an art form. I think I’ve mastered it."

Satoru grinned, his eyes sparkling. "Consider me your willing canvas."

You playfully leaned in closer, brushing your lips against his ear. "Oh, I have many more colours to paint with."

His breath hitched, and he swallowed hard. "I look forward to the masterpiece."

With a playful wink, you moved away, giving him a moment to catch his breath.

"Mmm.... God, you're insufferable..." Satoru murmured. His cheeks burned a rosy pink as he squirmed a bit under your rocking against him, but he did nothing to fight or stop it. "Too much..."

He seems close to losing himself to you again. He turned his head away from you and pressed his forehead against the sofa. He scrunched his eyes shut and just groaned.

"You can take some more, Satoru," you drawled.

His expression hinted at both pleasure and annoyance. Satoru grimaced and squirmed against the sofa. His eyes opened and he looked up at you, his face flushed and his body shaking a bit.

"No I... I can't... I'm too weak for this..." he mumbled, his words slurred with a mix of pleasure and annoyance. He was completely overwhelmed by your tease, but his body couldn't really help but respond to you.

"N-no... Too much... I... I c-can't..." he gasped. “Not again, not again…”

You leaned in closer, your voice low and tempting. "Are you sure, Satoru? You're enjoying this."

Satoru's resolve was weakening rapidly, and he bit his lower lip, struggling to maintain some semblance of self-control. "I... I really should... I should stop you," he stammered, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

"You should," you teased, brushing your lips against his ear. "But will you?"

He let out a frustrated groan, torn between the intense pleasure you were offering and his own desire to exercise restraint. "Fuck me," he muttered, his voice a mixture of desire and frustration.

You continued to move against him slowly, your lips tracing a delicate path along his jawline. Satoru's grip on your shoulders tightened, his breath hitching as he struggled with the sensations overwhelming his body.

"Come on, Satoru," you purred. "Just a little more... Give in to me."

He hesitated, his willpower waning, and you could see the internal struggle playing out in his expressive eyes. Finally, with a shuddering sigh, he gave in, his resistance crumbling.

"Alright... A little more," he whispered, surrendering to the intoxicating pleasure you offered.

You snickered and kept rocking your hips against him. "Look at me."

"Mmm... What?" Satoru murmured.

He was slowly getting more and more worked up again. His words were getting harder to understand. He seems to be losing his ability to think straight. His head rested gently against the couch cushions, his eyes half-closed, his furrowed eyebrows a testament to his focus on every exquisite sensation you offered—your words, your voice, your touch—all conspiring to drive him to the brink of ecstasy. He was far too busy focusing on the pleasure of your body against his to hear your words.

"I... I can't focus... Can't stop it…!" he whimpered, his words barely reaching your ears.

You laughed and stripped your t-shirt off. "Keep your eyes on me, yeah?"

Satoru's eyes flickered at the sight of your chest, his jaw going slack, but he tried desperately to keep them focused as he groaned and squirmed against the sofa.

"Yes... Y-yes... Oh, fuck me… Too much... Mm... Mmm."

Satoru's self-control was hanging by a thread, the tempting display before him driving him wild with desire. He tried to hold your gaze, but it was a challenge as the pleasure intensified.

"Just a little more," you coaxed, knowing exactly how to push his buttons.

Satoru's breathing grew ragged as he struggled to maintain focus. He reached up and cupped your face, his fingers trembling with the effort to stay composed.

"I... I can't hold back," he gasped, his voice thick with desire and frustration.

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss, intensifying the sensations coursing through his body. His mouth, warm and soft and eager, tasted like the vodka you had indulged in, but that wasn’t what made you feel so drunk. Satoru's grip on you tightened.

He struggled to maintain focus as you leaned in closer, your voice a sultry whisper against his ear. "Let go, Satoru. Just for a little while..."

He gasped, feeling the temptation building in the pit of his stomach. "I... I can't..."

"You can," you encouraged, your breath warm against his skin. "You deserve this, ‘toru."

His body trembled, torn between his desire to hold on and the allure of surrendering to pleasure. "Just... A little more," he whispered, his resistance crumbling as he gave in to the mounting ecstasy.

You bit your lip and guided his hands to your tits, still grinding against him. There was a look of shock on his face but he seemed to be doing his best to keep his eyes on you. The intensity of your connection continued to build as Satoru's touch grew bolder. His moans and whimpers filled the room, mingling with your own sighs of pleasure. You maintained eye contact with him, a sultry smile dancing on your lips as you revelled in his desperation that we wore so brazenly.

Satoru's fingers explored every curve and contour of your chest, his grip growing tighter as his need intensified. He couldn't tear his gaze away from your eyes, from your body.

"Mm.... Oh, fuck-fuck-fuck," he murmured as your hips continued rocking against him. He whimpered and let out a few soft moans as the sensation built. "God..."

"Yeah? How's that, hm? Needy boy," you teased.

"Mmm…! Oh, God... So much..." Satoru murmurs as his hands continued fondle your chest.

His body was so sensitive that constantly squirmed and his breath hitched and trembled. His grip on you tightened as he continued moving his hands across your tits and squeezing the soft, supple flesh. His words had almost become completely incoherent, reduced to just desperate moans and half-sentence fragments.

"Oh, God... Need you…! Please… Mmmm..."

But just before he could fall into bliss, you caught him, pulling yourself away.

Satoru gasped and squirmed, disoriented by the sudden change. Confusion and fear laced his voice as he whimpered, desperately seeking understanding. "What's... What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?" he whined, his vulnerability on full display. "Do I... Do I need to beg more?"

His eyes, wide and imploring, pleaded for reassurance and guidance. Meanwhile, you grinned mischievously and knelt down in front of him, leaning on his knees.

"You've made quite a mess, ‘toru," you cooed, a musical edge to your voice.

His eyes widened, his gaze dropping to his sweatpants. Horror washed over his features as he noticed the conspicuous wet patch where his cum had soaked through, his face now a canvas of embarrassment.

"Oh.... Oh, fuck..." he whimpered, mortification taking over. Frantically, he shifted and tried to hide himself, begging you to avert your gaze. "Oh god... Don't look... Please, please..."

As he tried to cover himself with his hands and turn away, but you wrenched his wrists away and pinned them to the sofa beside him.

"Look at me."

"Mmm... No! No, please…!" Satoru protested.

He squirmed and fought you, trying desperately to move away and trying to pull his wrists away from you. He seemed terrified at the thought of you seeing him like this, all soiled and ruined and dripping.

"Don't look at it... Please..." he begged, tears welling up in his eyes, his cheeks flushing a brilliant cherry-red that you could see clearly, even in the low-light.

You smiled sweetly and teasingly pressed a quick kiss to the wet patch. "So needy."

You maintained your hold on Satoru's wrists, preventing him from averting his gaze or escaping your teasing advances. His body jerked and he lets out a moan. His face contorted with a mix of shame, pleasure, and fear. He writhed beneath you, caught between wanting to escape the situation and being unable to deny the arousal he felt. His protests were weak, his resolve crumbling in the face of you. He grew more desperate, his tear-filled eyes reflecting a mix of pleasure and distress.

"Don't look at it…! Please..."

Ignoring his pleas, you pressed another teasing kiss to the wet patch, causing him to whimper and moan in response.

"Please... No... Stop it…! It feels good, but... Please..." he mumbled, his body trembling beneath your touch.

Your snickers filled the air as you continued your playful assault, leaving a trail of kisses along the fabric of his inner thighs. Your fingers maintained their firm grip on his wrists, ensuring he remained under your control, his vulnerability and desire laid bare before you.

Satoru whimpered and struggled to control the mounting pleasure surging through his body. He gasped and moaned, his hips involuntarily bucking into the air, seeking more stimulation.

"Ahhh…! Ahhh... Please... Oh, fuck! Mmmm..." he continued to whimper, lost in the throes of desire.

Your teasing words only fueled his need further, his desperation evident in every breathy plea and every quiver of his body. "Aw, you're so cute, ‘toru."

As you skillfully removed his sweatpants, leaving him in only his boxers, his eyes widened and his gaze turned even more intense.

"Ple... Please... Please, more..." he begged, his voice a husky mix of need and yearning.

You pressed your hand to the soaked patch on his boxers, feeling the heat and dampness, relishing in his vulnerability. Your fingers curved around his throbbing erection, and you palmed him through the material with just the barest pressure. His pleas for more were music to your ears.

"More? Yeah, you want more?" you teased, your tone laced with innocence that belied the intensity of the situation.

"Mmm... Ahh…! No, no, no please... Please… C-can’t take more…" he stammered, torn between desire and the overwhelming sensations he was experiencing.

"But you just said you wanted more," you teased with a pout.

Satoru's pleas had reached a feverish pitch, his desperation palpable in his voice and movements.

"Oh, fuck... Please... More, more, more..." he begged, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.

You maintained a playful demeanour, revelling in his heightened desire. As you tugged his boxers down, exposing him completely, he gasped audibly. His cock sprung free, slapping his stomach. Your jaw dropped at the sheer volume of cum and pre that had accumulated. You couldn't help but be drawn to the way his hips responded eagerly, pushing into the air with an instinctive urgency. His pretty cock—flushed, dripping, hard and aching—twitched as precum drooled from his slit.

"That's what I thought," you said smugly, trailing your fingers trough his mess and then spitting into your hand.

Your actions only intensified his yearning, and as you used your saliva-slicked hand to tease and pump him, the sounds of wet friction filled the room. With each and every drag of your hand down the shaft of his hard, aching shaft there was a loud, satisfying ‘schlick’ sound that accompanied his whimpers.

"Yeah? Is that enough or do you still need more?" you taunted, a smirk curving your lips.

Netflix's 'Are you still watching?' message went unnoticed, as you were both thoroughly engrossed in your homemade entertainment.

Satoru could hardly form words, the pleasure now overwhelming any ability to express himself coherently. He let out a strangled moan, his hips involuntarily frotting into your hand as he gasped for air, unable to respond beyond the primal sounds escaping him. His body shook and his hips bucked desperately, more precum drooling from the cutely flushed pink tip.

"H-hnnn... Ahhh... More..." he managed to stammer, his voice barely coherent, lost in the sea of sensation.

You couldn't help but tease, watching him struggle with his need. "Yeah? You gonna be a good slut and keep begging for more?"

His wide, desperate eyes locked onto yours as you continued, each movement sending shockwaves through his trembling body. "P-p-please... Please... God, fuck..." he begged, the words strained and barely forming.

He struggled to communicate his desires amidst the overwhelming pleasure. "I... I n-need... Ahhh…!" he whined loudly, his body convulsing with the effort.

Teasingly, you challenged him and retracted your hand. "Oh? What d'you need, hm? Better use your words and tell me.”

He whimpered and shook his head, desperate for the sensation to return. "G-God... I... I need… Oh... God..." he panted, his desperation palpable. "I need... You need to..."

Teasingly, you prodded him further. "You need me to...?"

But he was beyond the ability to respond with anything more than monosyllabic pleas for more, lost in the overwhelming pleasure. You laughed, toying with him further, adjusting your position and enveloping his slicked cock between your tits, squeezing gently with your hands on either side of them as you began a tantalising movement.

"Isn't this fun?" you teased, taking note of the tremors that coursed through his body. "You're such a cutie."

His features, typically so composed and captivating, were now a canvas of raw emotions. The pleasure surged through him, leaving him helpless in its wake, his body reacting to the intense sensations. Tears streamed down his face in torrents, leaving streaks on his typically flawless skin. His eyes, usually vibrant and full of life, were now swollen and red, the brilliance dimmed by the weight of his desire. Uncontrolled sobs wracked his body, causing his normally steady breaths to hitch and break in heartbreaking cadence.

In that moment, all pretense of strength was lost. His shoulders, usually squared and proud, hunched forward under the weight of his surrender. The weight of the world seemed to bear down on him, crushing the bravado and exposing the raw, unguarded depths of his ache.

His hands, usually so steady and assured in their movements, trembled uncontrollably. Fingers clenched tightly, seeking desperately for something to hold on to, to anchor him amidst the storm of his anguish. Each sob escaped his lips with a wrenching ache, echoing the depths of his desperation.

His eyes rolled back into his head just as his dick bucked against your chest, and your eyes were struggling to find a place to rest on: his flexing abdomen, trembling thighs, quivering lips, shaking hands, twitching cock—a total buffet of expression.

"Almost there, aren't you?"

Satoru let out the loudest groan he could manage and shuddered against your chest. His mouth curled into a tiny, smug smile before his jaw went completely slack. A few seconds later, he came. Your tits were coated in thick spurts of his hot, sticky cum—flooding your skin and dripping down your abdomen.

"Aw, you've done so, so well... So good for me," you said sweetly.

You could feel him shaking as he writhed and twitched, and it seems he was still caught in the aftershocks. Satoru lay there, his body still trembling. His chest heaved with each labored breath, his mind swimming in the euphoria that engulfed him. You gently stroked his thighs, grounding him and bringing him back to reality, his breathing immediately calming. He couldn't believe what had just happened, how every touch, every sensation, had left him in such a state of blissful exhaustion.

"G... God..." he whispered shakily. His whole body shivered and he continued to breath heavy and hard. "Fuck..."

Satoru breathed heavy and hard, panting as he slowly came back to reality. He was so exhausted and worn out that he could barely form any coherent thoughts, and his eyes were already closing.

"Oh... God..." he stammered and took a deep breath. "That was amazing..." he said softly, looking down at you with a weak smile. He mumbled, still struggling to put a sentence together. "I didn't know—I didn't know it could be like that..."

You smiled and got up off your knees, sitting next to him on the couch. You kissed his cheek. He seemed so vulnerable now that his defenses were gone, and he let out a small sigh before he leaned his head on your shoulder. His hair was still covering his eyes, but you could see the blue glow through the strands.

He lets out a small yawn and blinked slowly as he glanced around, his expression soft but still so very tired. Satoru's smile grew as he looked at you, his eyes filled with a newfound warmth and affection.

You gently brushed a few strands of hair away from his face, your fingers tracing a soothing path across his cheek. "It can be pretty amazing when you're with the right person," you whispered tenderly.

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice soft and sincere. "With the right person… I... I'm so..." he said hoarsely. He sighed and shook his head slightly. "Ah... I'm so tired..." he whimpered, his arms still wrapped around you.

“You still need to clean me up.”

Satoru groaned and pouted, sticking his tongue out at you.

"Oh c'mon... You like it..." he said, trying to sound annoyed but in reality he was still in a dazed, delirious state. His eyes flickered and he blinked slowly.

You raised a brow. "But you made a mess."

He whined again as he continued to cling to you. He seemed so tired that he could fall asleep like this, but not before giving you one last look of annoyance.

You pushed his face into the mess he left on you. "Yeah? See how you like it."

"Ew…! It's all sticky and warm..." he complained as he squirmed and tried to get away from you. He attempted to sound like he was annoyed, but his grin gave him away. He looked very proud of himself. "I'm so tired, just give me a break..." he whined, laughing.

"Clean it up and I'll be your pillow," you teased.

He gave up his attempt of being mad and he smirked a little bit, and his head bobbed as he tried to nod. "Ahhh... Fine, deal," he said with a grin.

His tongue darted out and he sleepily started to lap up the cum he left splattered across your chest. His tongue trailed across you, and he still had it in him to whine against you even as he complied. You cooed at him teasingly and kissed his forehead.

"Aw, there you go."

Satoru chuckled weakly, managing to gather enough energy to clean up the mess he had made. His movements were slow and lethargic, and his eyelids drooped as he worked on the task.

You watched him, a fond smile on your lips. "You're such a dork," you remarked.

"Mmm..." Satoru mumbled in agreement, finally finishing his task. He flopped back against you, a contented look on his face. "Pillow now?" he asked, a hopeful glint in his half-closed eyes.

You chuckled and shifted, allowing him to rest his head against your chest. He sighed in contentment, snuggling closer.

"There you go, sleepyhead. Rest up," you whispered, gently stroking his hair.

He mumbled something incoherent, already drifting off into slumber. You smiled down at him, feeling a warmth in your chest. The night had been a welcome plot twist, to say the very least.

a/n: listen- *grabs your face* listen to me: if you ever, for some godforsaken reason, see gojo satoru walking around, you better send him my way!!!! *shakes vigorously* OKAY????? okay. also, it lives rent free in my head that it is in fact canon that satoru is a lightweight + hates drinking. i will be taking advantage of this knowledge until my dying breath. P.S. I'm from the UK and drinking culture is wayyy diff here, and i have a high tolerance, so apologies if my descriptions of drinking do not match your experiences.

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

#꒰ ✎ ꒱ — tongues in trees #꒰ ✑ ꒱ — they kiss consume #꒰ 🝮 ꒱ — kt 23 #sub gojo satoru #sub gojo x reader #sub gojo satoru x reader #sub gojo smut #sub gojo satoru x reader smut #sub gojo x y/n #sub gojo x you #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader smut

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