Portrait of Empress Maria Alexandrovna, (Detail), (1857), by Franz Xaver Winterhalter (German, 1805–1873), oil on canvas, 120 × 95 cm, The State Hermitage Museum, Saint Petersburg
Curvy Vintage Lingerie Morning Glow in 1950s Style
Step into a cozy vintage morning, where confidence shines as bright as soft sunlight filtering through lace curtains. This plus-size woman celebrates timeless beauty, with copper pin curls and a playful dice tattoo that hint at her bold personality. Let this intimate moment remind you: vintage glam is for every body and every day. Like, comment, save, and follow us for more empowering retro inspiration! This image is for inspiration only, but we'd be happy to create a digital version for you and make it available on Etsy. Click here to go to the ETSY-Contact and follow us here on Tumblr. (AI-Art)
“isn’t it crazy that we were once strangers and now we’re cuddling in bed, with each other’s rings on our fingers?”
you exhale, heavy, tired. “go to sleep, satoru,” you mumble, burying your face into his chest. and he automatically moves his hand to thread his fingers through your hair.
“like, we had our own lives, had no idea who we’d end up with or where we’d end up,” he continues, awe laced into his voice. “and one day, bam! every second of my day was suddenly consumed by you or thoughts of you. or dreams about you.”
satoru’s mind is way too busy for 2 a.m.
“if you don’t let me sleep, you won’t live to see another day.”
“ohhh, so that was your plan all along, huh? seduce me, make me fall in love, then kill me in my sleep?” he says, theatrically woeful and pained. “after all i’ve done for you. am i still just a stranger to you?”
you can’t help but snort, a quiet sound muffled by his chest. “why would i wait four years to kill you? i probably could’ve done it after one year. you were already whipped.”
“probably after one month, baby. you’ve always had me whipped, let’s be honest,” he says, completely proud and unabashed. he gently massages your scalp with his fingertips before drifting them back down through your hair. it’s a mindless action, soothing for both you and him. “but you’d never kill me.”
“mm, i don’t know. depends on how much the job is. i could be a multimillionaire.”
he gasps, his hand moving down to tickle your side. “you traitor. besides, you’re already a millionaire, silly. you have me. everything i own is yours.”
you squirm, letting out a giggle when he tickles you and he does it again just to hear that sweet sound. and also just to be a little bit of a menace. you try to wiggle away but he uses his other arm to keep you tethered to him.
“okay, okay, i’m sorry,” you laugh breathlessly, trying to swat his hand away. “just stop tickling me.”
“you’re so lucky you’re cute,” he huffs, leaning down to nip at your nose playfully. he’s pouting a little, staring down at you as you catch your breath, and his expression softens. it’s one of his favourite views - your faint smile, the sparkle in your eyes, your flushed cheeks.
he groans, defeated, forehead falling to press against yours.
he could never stay upset, or even faux-upset, around you.
“what?” you ask softly, curious about his sudden groan. you feel his hand at your side squeeze. not teasing. more like he's holding himself back from something.
“i’m so in love with you, it’s insane,” he murmurs, almost sounding pained, like his heart physically hurts. “i'd let you kill me, y'know. let you torture me, drag it out, whatever the hell you want.”
you giggle, your nose brushing against his. his smile ghosts your lips.
“you’re insane.”
“incredibly, for you.”
you hum, thoughtful, closing your eyes. feeling his breath on your face, warm, alive.
“it is pretty crazy. that we were once strangers and now you'd let me kill you for money.”
he breathes out a chuckle, lips brushing yours but never fully kissing. he's soaking up your touch, your closeness. satoru never seems to understand personal space. not that you'd ever mind.
“anything to make you happy, princess.” he begins to draw circles on your side with his thumb. small, light circles.
and you reach up, placing your palm on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under your touch and the way it begins to quicken.
“this makes me happy. knowing it’s beating for me.”
he pauses, breath catching in his throat and fingers halting in their circles for a brief moment before he brushes it off casually, “… you love me sooo much.”
if your eyes were open, you’d roll them. you know that he's deflecting. that he's masking the vulnerability with humour. and that he knows you know. no one knows him better than you do, after all.
“says you, mr i’d let you kill me,” you tease, though your index finger traces an ‘i love you’ on his chest, right above his heart.
he grins, dimples adorning his cheeks. he draws hearts on your side over and over again. engraving his love into you, wishing to carve himself into your soul.
“and i stand by those words.”
“well, if you keep me up too late, your wish will be granted.”
"well, then... i was also thinking about how crazy it is that male seahorses can get pregnant. like, sign me up heh."
notes: pining, jealousy, misunderstandings between the two, reader and neteyam are dumb, lo'ak being the sensible one.
word count: 5.9k
prompt: all along he thought you knew he was courting you but when you start avoiding him when you see him with another girl, he thinks you want him to stop courting you not knowing you weren’t really aware he was trying to mate with you.
main masterlist | neteyam masterlist
credits to the gif owner
The sun dipped low over the lush canopy of the Omatikaya forest, casting golden shafts through the leaves that danced across your azure skin like fleeting fireflies.
You sat cross-legged on a woven mat at the edge of the communal fire pit, your lithe frame relaxed after a long day of gathering herbs and weaving baskets. Strands of your dark hair, loosely braided with feathers from the hexapede you'd befriended, framed your delicate face, where wide amber eyes sparkled with quiet contentment. Your beauty was effortless, a soft curve to your full lips, high cheekbones flushed with the day's warmth, and a slender neck that led to the gentle swell of your shoulders, bare save for the thin straps of your beaded top.
You were known in the clan for your sweetness, always offering a kind word or a helping hand, your voice like a gentle breeze carrying notes of laughter that eased tensions among the hunters and weavers alike.
Neteyam approached from the treeline, his tall, athletic build cutting through the underbrush with purposeful strides.
His blue skin held a subtle sheen under the fading light, broader than the average Na'vi, he moved with fluid grace as any born of Eywa. His golden eyes, sharp and watchful, softened the moment they landed on you, and he carried a skewer of roasted yerik meat in one hand, the savory aroma wafting toward the fire. He had been out on patrol all afternoon, his lithe muscles still taut from the exertion, a faint sheen of sweat tracing the defined lines of his chest and abdomen, where faint scars from training marred the otherwise smooth expanse.
Without a word, he lowered himself beside you, his thigh brushing yours in a way that felt natural, protective like a shield woven from his very presence. The heat from his body mingled with the fire's glow, and you shifted slightly, making room, your tail curling idly against the mat.
"Here." He said, his voice deep and warm, laced with that attentive care he always reserved for you, extending the skewer. "You haven't eaten since morning. Take this."
His free hand hovered near your shoulder, as if ready to steady you, his fingers long and calloused from bowstrings.
You accepted the meat with a grateful smile, your lips parting to reveal straight white teeth, and bit into the tender flesh, juices dripping down your chin. "Thank you, Teyam. You're always looking out for everyone."
Your tone was light, sincere, as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, savoring the smoky flavor.
He watched you eat, his gaze lingering on the way your throat moved with each swallow, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
When you'd finished half the skewer, he reached over casually, his knuckles grazing the soft plane of your midriff just above your woven skirt. His touch was light, playful, as he poked gently at the slight give of your stomach, testing.
"Full yet?" He teased, his golden eyes crinkling with amusement, the firelight reflecting in their depths like stars.
You giggled, the sound bubbling up sweetly, your hand instinctively covering his for a moment before pulling back, the contact sending a warm flutter through you that you dismissed as simple comfort.
He poked your tummy once more, firmer this time, until he nodded in satisfaction, withdrawing his hand but not his proximity.
Leaning back on one elbow, his broad shoulders rolling with the motion, he grinned a full boyish expression that lit up his handsome features, revealing the dimple in his left cheek. "Good. I have to keep you well-fed, or else you'll be grumpy all evening, and no one wants that."
His words carried a fond lilt, protective undertone threading through like vines around a tree trunk.
You felt a flush creep up your neck, your cheeks warming to a subtle lavender hue, but you waved it off with a laugh, assuming it was just his way. Neteyam had always been kind, especially to you, like an older brother watching over the clan.
"I'm not grumpy." You protested softly, nudging his arm with your elbow, the muscle there solid under your touch. "But I appreciate it. Really."
The flattery settled comfortably in your chest, a quiet joy at his attentiveness, yet you chalked it up to platonic concern, the kind he showed to his siblings or close friends.
As the evening deepened, the camp buzzed with shared stories and laughter around the fire.
Neteyam stayed glued to your side, his knee pressing against yours whenever he shifted to gesture during a tale, his arm occasionally draping over the log behind you, fingers nearly brushing your hair.
You leaned into the space without thinking, your shoulder nestling against his, reciprocating the closeness naturally by tucking a loose strand of his braid behind his ear when it fell forward, or passing him a gourd of water with a soft tone. "Here, you look thirsty."
Each act felt easy, instinctive, like breathing in the humid air, unaware that to him, they were signals blooming in the silent language of courtship.
Neteyam interpreted your every response as understanding, as quiet acceptance of his intentions. He had never spoken the words outright. Why would he? In the ways of the People, actions wove the bond stronger than declarations. Your easy touches, the way your amber eyes met his without pulling away, filled him with a swelling joy, his heart pounding a steady rhythm whenever that purple flush colored your cheeks under his gaze. He believed you knew, that your sweetness masked a shared secret, and it made his protective instincts burn brighter.
The next morning dawned with mist clinging to the ferns, the air alive with the calls of ilu in the nearby streams.
You knelt by the riverbank, your slender fingers dipping into the cool water to rinse fresh fruit, your lithe legs folded beneath you, the curve of your hips accentuated by the morning light filtering through the leaves. Your beauty shone in these simple moments, skin glowing like polished sapphire, the gentle arch of your back as you reached for a low-hanging vine, full lips pursed in concentration.
Neteyam emerged from the path leading to the hunting grounds, his stride confident, a small woven pouch slung over his shoulder. He had risen before the sun, his mind fixed on you as always, seeking you out amid the clan's morning routines.
Spotting you by the water, he veered toward you without hesitation, his tall frame casting a shadow that made you glance up, your face brightening with that sweet smile.
"Good morning." You greeted, straightening with a handful of berries, droplets trailing down your arms like liquid diamonds.
He knelt beside you, close enough that his knee dipped into the damp earth next to yours, his scent earthy and spiced from the hunt washing over you. From the pouch, he drew a delicate necklace, woven from fine fibers dyed in deep indigo, threaded with small beads that matched the ones woven into his own braids, iridescent and polished stones, symbols of promise among the Omatikaya. Such gifts were no small thing, only those spoken for exchanged beads and jewelry, a quiet vow etched in adornment.
His golden eyes held yours steadily as he held it out, voice soft with earnest warmth. "For you. I made it last night."
Your eyes widened, fingers trembling slightly as you took it, the beads cool against your palm.
It was beautiful, intricate, and you traced the patterns with awe, slipping it over your head without a second thought. The weight settled against your collarbone, warm now from your skin.
"Neteyam, it's stunning." You breathed, touching it lightly, your voice laced with genuine delight. "Thank you so much. You're too kind."
To you, it was another gesture of friendship, a token from a dear companion who noticed your love for such crafts.
He watched as you adjusted it, his chest tightening with quiet elation at how it complemented the curve of your neck, drawing out the glow of your eyes.
Leaning in, his breath ghosting your ear, he murmured. "It looks pretty on you. Suits you perfectly."
His hand lingered near your shoulder, thumb brushing the strap of your top in a fleeting touch, protective and tender.
Throughout the day, he positioned himself near you effortlessly, standing at your side while you helped mend nets, his arm steadying yours when a knot proved tricky, the heat of his body a constant reassurance.
At midday meal, he claimed the spot beside you on the log, sharing bites of breadfruit from his own portion, his knee bumping yours under the pretense of passing a utensil. You reciprocated without reservation, feeding him a piece of fruit in return, your fingers grazing his lips accidentally, laughing softly at the juice that smeared his chin.
"Messy eater." You teased sweetly, wiping it away with your thumb, the act intimate yet innocent in your mind.
Neteyam savored these moments, his heart swelling each time you leaned into him or met his gaze with that trusting warmth. Your acceptance fueled his belief that you understood that this was the dance of courtship, unspoken but profound. He never pressed for words, in his eyes, your sweetness was the answer, and it made him seek you out even more fervently.
That evening, as the hunters returned from a brief foray into the woods, Neteyam was among the first to break from the group, his eyes scanning the camp until they found you seated by the weaver's circle, your fingers deftly threading vines into patterns. He approached with a small bundle wrapped in leaves, his lithe form still humming with the thrill of the chase, chest rising and falling steadily under his harness.
Kneeling before you, he unwrapped it to reveal a cluster of rare glow-fruit, their skins luminescent even in the twilight, plucked from a hidden grove.
"For you." He said again, his voice rich with affection, golden eyes locking onto yours as he placed it in your lap, his hand covering yours briefly, thumb stroking the back in a soothing circle. "Saw these and thought of your smile, they light up like you do."
You blushed, the purple tint blooming across your nose, and accepted the gift with a soft gasp, your free hand touching his wrist in thanks. "Neteyam, you didn't have to. But... I love them. You're always bringing me the best things."
Popping one into your mouth, the sweet burst made you hum in pleasure, and you offered him the next, unaware of the courtship ritual in the sharing. He took it from your fingers, his lips brushing your skin deliberately, a spark of joy igniting in his chest at your oblivious sweetness.
As days blurred into a rhythm of closeness, you couldn't help the quiet worry that gnawed at you during quieter moments.
Neteyam spent so much time with you, guarding your path to the river, joining you in the evenings to stargaze, his arm around your shoulders as if warding off the night's chill. It was flattering, the way his attentiveness made you feel seen, cherished, but you fretted silently that it might deter other potential mates. He was the clan's golden son, brave and skilled. Surely, his focus on you could ruin his chances.
Yet, deep down, a selfish part of you wanted to bask in it longer.
You'd always harbored a secret longing for it to be you, imagining his hand in yours during the mating rituals, his golden eyes promising forever. But if he truly wanted that, wouldn't he have said it outright? Na'vi didn't play games with such things.
So you kept quiet, letting yourself enjoy his presence while it lasted. The way he'd pull you close during a sudden rain, shielding you with his body, his laughter rumbling against your ear or how he'd braid a fresh flower into your hair after a swim, his fingers lingering on your scalp, massaging gently until you sighed in contentment.
One afternoon, as you walked the forest paths together collecting vines, he stayed a step behind, his eyes tracing the sway of your hips, the elegant line of your spine. When a low branch snagged your arm, he was there instantly, plucking it away with a tsk of concern, his palm cupping your elbow to inspect the minor scratch.
"Careful, sevin." He murmured, the endearment slipping out like a habit, his touch feather-light as he blew on the mark, golden eyes fierce with protectiveness.
You smiled up at him, heart fluttering, and squeezed his hand. "I'm fine, thanks to you."
In these drawn-out exchanges, his affection unfolded like the petals of a sunbloom, attentive in the way he anticipated your needs, sweet in the stories he shared by the fire, his voice dropping low as he described hunts just to see your eyes widen. He'd draw you into his side during communal dances, his hand at the small of your back guiding your steps, bodies moving in sync under the bioluminescent glow.
You reciprocated with hugs goodbye after shared tasks, your cheek pressing to his chest, inhaling his scent, convincing yourself it was all just the warmth of friendship.
~
The bioluminescent glow of the evening settled over the Omatikaya village like a soft veil, vines pulsing with faint light as the clan gathered for the communal meal.
You wove through the crowd, your bare feet padding silently on the woven platforms, the sway of your hips subtle under the lightweight loincloth that hugged your curves.
Your azure skin caught the ethereal shimmer, highlighting the graceful taper of your waist and the gentle rise of your breasts beneath a top of supple leaves. Strands of your hair, adorned with tiny shells that clinked softly, fell in loose waves over one shoulder, framing your heart-shaped face where your amber eyes held a lingering warmth from the day's simple joys.
You spotted Neteyam near the central fire, his broad back turned momentarily as he conversed with a group of hunters. But then, as you drew closer, your steps faltered. He was leaning in toward a female Na'vi you'd seen only in passing.
Kalife.
The one whose voice enchanted the nights during celebrations, her songs weaving through the air like threads of moonlight. She was striking in her own right, her lithe form draped in a shawl of iridescent feathers that accentuated the elegant length of her limbs and the high arch of her brows. Her skin gleamed with a deeper cobalt hue, and her full mouth curved in easy laughter as she tilted her head, exposing the slender column of her throat.
Neteyam laughed a deep, resonant sound that rumbled from his chest, his golden eyes crinkling at the edges in a way you'd rarely seen, softened by an unfamiliar tenderness. A faint azure tint colored his cheeks, blooming across his sharp jawline, and he reached out to lightly touch her arm, his fingers lingering just a beat too long on the smooth expanse of her bicep.
They stood close, shoulders nearly brushing, the space between them charged with an intimacy that twisted something sharp in your gut.
Jealousy uncoiled like a viper in your chest, hot and insistent, mingling with a wave of insecurity that made your throat tighten.
Who was she to him?
You knew little beyond her reputation, the clan's finest singer, her melodies drawing sighs from even the sternest warriors during feasts. But seeing Neteyam like this, his usual guarded demeanor cracking into that rare blush, you couldn't help the assumption that solidified in your mind.
He liked her. Of course he did.
She was everything vibrant and captivating, while you'd been fooling yourself with his attentiveness, mistaking brotherly kindness for something more. Embarrassment flooded you, heating your face as you imagined how naive you'd been, reciprocating his touches and gifts like they meant what your heart had dared to hope.
You turned away abruptly, your tail flicking with agitation, and slipped back toward your family's marui without a word to anyone. The woven entrance flap closed behind you with a soft rustle, sealing you in the dim, vine-draped space.
For the next few days, you retreated fully, curling into your hammock with a blanket of furs pulled tight around your frame, the curve of your knees drawn to your chest as if to ward off the ache. Meals were brought by your mother, her concerned eyes tracing the shadows under yours, but you waved off questions with murmured excuses about fatigue from the heat.
On the second day, a familiar voice echoed from outside.
Neteyam's, low and laced with worry. "Is she alright? I brought some healing herbs from the lowlands, they ease any fever."
Your heart stuttered at the sound, but you pressed a hand to your mouth, nodding urgently to your parents.
Your father stepped out, his voice steady as he relayed your fabricated illness. "She's under the weather, Neteyam. A stomach ache from bad fruit. Best to let her rest."
You heard the hesitation in his tone, but he held firm, and after a pause filled with Neteyam's murmured concern. "Tell her I hope she feels better soon, please."
His footsteps retreated, leaving you with a pang of guilt that only deepened the hurt.
By the fourth day, the isolation gnawed at you, the marui's walls feeling too confining.
You emerged into the dappled sunlight, blinking against the brightness, your body moving with a deliberate stiffness as you gathered a heavy basket of woven fibers for the clan's repairs. The weight strained your arms, pulling at the lithe muscles of your shoulders, but you gripped it tighter, determined to manage alone.
That's when you saw him.
Neteyam crossing the platform, his stride purposeful, the harness across his torso accentuating the powerful V of his back and the ripple of his abs with each step. His braids swung gently, catching the light, and his gaze locked onto you immediately, concern etching lines around his mouth.
He quickened his pace, reaching out with an instinctive offer.
"Let me take that for you." He said, his voice warm but edged with that familiar protectiveness, his large hands already extending toward the basket.
In the past, he'd always insisted, lifting it effortlessly from your grasp with a teasing grin, his fingers brushing yours in the process, claiming it was no trouble to spare you the strain. But now, you stepped back, hoisting the load higher against your hip, the edge digging into your side.
"No, thank you, Neteyam." You replied coolly, your tone polite but distant, the sweetness drained from it like water from a cracked gourd.
Your eyes flicked away from his, focusing on the path ahead, and you walked on without waiting, the basket's weave creaking under your effort.
He froze for a moment, his extended hand dropping slowly, confusion flickering across his features, those sharp handsome planes tightening as he watched you go.
From his perspective, the shift hit like a sudden storm. The first day of your absence, he'd accepted the news of your sickness without question, lingering outside your marui with a bundle of fresh-picked leaves that promised relief, his mind replaying the easy laughter you'd shared just nights before.
But by the second day, unease settled in his gut, a quiet worry that gnawed as he patrolled the borders, his bow slung over his shoulder, eyes scanning the treetops more restlessly than usual.
Something felt off.
When you finally reappeared, the change was stark. Your avoidance of his help, that basket he'd carried a dozen times without fail struck him like a slap. He replayed his actions in his mind. The necklace, the gifts, the constant nearness.
Had he been too forward, pushing the boundaries of courtship too aggressively? Na'vi ways were subtle, but perhaps he'd overstepped, made you uncomfortable without realizing.
Worry coiled in his chest, making his breaths shallower during hunts, his focus splintering as he glanced back toward the village more often. He didn't approach again that day, respecting the invisible wall you'd raised, but he watched from afar, ensuring the path you took was clear of roots, his golden eyes tracking your form with a mix of longing and self-doubt.
At the communal dinners that followed, you enforced the distance with quiet resolve.
You chose seats on the far side of the fire pit, your posture straight and composed, legs tucked gracefully beneath you as you picked at your portions of smoked fish and roots. When Neteyam's gaze sought yours across the flames, you met it with a nod and a smile that didn't reach your eyes. It was polite, detached, the once-affectionate “Teyam” replaced entirely by the formal “Neteyam” in the rare instances you spoke.
"Pass the salt, Neteyam." You'd say evenly if needed, your voice stripped of its former lilt, and turn back to conversation with others, your fingers twisting a vine idly to avoid his stare.
One evening, as the fire crackled and stories flowed, you glanced up to see him settling beside Kalife and another lithe female from the weavers' circle, her features soft with rounded cheeks and eyes like polished amber.
He frowned briefly in your direction after your latest dismissal earlier, when he'd offered you a gourd of water, you'd taken it with a murmured thanks and no further engagement but then he turned to them, his shoulders relaxing into the group.
Kalife leaned in to whisper something, her hand gesturing animatedly, and though he didn't laugh this time, the sight of him there with a small soft smile, surrounded by her easy camaraderie, soured the warmth in your belly. Bitterness rose like bile, confirming the whirlwind of speculations in your head.
He had something with her, or at least the beginnings of it. Why else would he seek her company now, after your withdrawal?
You'd been a fool to bask in his attention, and the realization stung, sharpening your resolve to pull away further.
Neteyam felt the shift acutely, his confusion deepening into a persistent ache. He'd sought out Kalife only for advice on a melody she'd sung, a way to perhaps share it with you later, to draw you back with something light but your distant smiles and full-name address cut deeper than any blade. He wondered if his affections had overwhelmed you, if the beads in the necklace now felt like chains.
From across the camp, he continued his quiet care. Leaving a fresh-picked cluster of berries near your marui's entrance at dawn, hidden just enough to avoid intrusion, or positioning himself during patrols to overlook the paths you frequented, his lithe form perched on a branch, bow at the ready should any danger stir. But he held back from direct approach, uncertainty rooting him in place, his mind a tangle of worry.
Had he misread your reciprocation entirely?
The thought haunted his nights, sleep evading him as he stared at the canopy, heart heavy with the fear of having lost the quiet bond he'd cherished.
Meanwhile, you carried the hurt in silence, a jealous fire smoldering beneath your composed exterior. Each glimpse of him with Kalife, her laughter ringing out during a midday gathering, his head tilting attentively fueled the insecurity, whispering that you'd never been the one he wanted, just a convenient friend in his orbit. You believed it fully now, the embarrassment of your misinterpretation locking the pain in place.
Yet, beneath it all, you missed him fiercely, the solid warmth of his presence, the way his touches had made your days brighter.
In the quiet of your marui, you'd trace the necklace he gave you, fingers lingering on the beads that matched his braids, a secret ache blooming as you wondered what might have been if you'd been braver, or if he'd ever truly seen you that way. The distance stretched, a chasm of unspoken misunderstandings, leaving you both adrift in the village's rhythm, yearning across the divide.
The days blurred into a haze of unspoken tension, the village's vibrant hum fading into a dull echo for Neteyam.
He moved through his routines like a shadow of himself, sharpening arrows with mechanical precision, his callused fingers gripping the stone too tightly, or scouting the perimeter with a bow that felt heavier than usual across his sinewy shoulders. The once-vibrant spark in his golden eyes dimmed, replaced by a furrowed brow and a jaw set in quiet frustration. His lithe frame, honed from endless hunts, seemed to carry an invisible weight, his steps less assured as he navigated the woven bridges and fern-shrouded paths.
Sleep evaded him, leaving dark circles beneath his lashes, and even the clan's evening songs couldn't coax a smile from his lips.
His family noticed the shift immediately.
Jake's sharp gaze lingered during family meals, his own broad form leaning forward with unspoken concern, while Neytiri's ears twitched at his subdued responses, her elegant fingers pausing mid-gesture as she wove nets. The younger ones picked up on it too. Kiri's empathetic tilt of the head, Tuk's wide-eyed questions about why Teyam looks sad.
But it was Lo'ak who confronted him first, cornering him one afternoon near the edge of the training grounds, where the air hummed with the distant calls of ikran.
Lo'ak crossed his arms over his chest, his lean muscles flexing under his skin painted with fresh hunt markings, his braids swaying as he cocked his head.
"Skxawng, what the hell is wrong with you?" He demanded, his voice a mix of brotherly exasperation and genuine worry, eyes narrowing at Neteyam's slumped posture. “You've been moping around like a hexapede with a thorn in its hoof. Energy's gone, poof. Spill it."
Neteyam sighed, running a hand through his braided locks, the beads clicking softly against each other. If it was any other day, he would have beaten Lo’ak for calling him that but right now, he just doesn’t have the energy for it. He leaned against a sturdy tree trunk, its bark rough against his back, and met Lo'ak's gaze with a weary intensity.
"It's her." He admitted, the words tumbling out low and raw, his throat tightening around the confession. "She... dismissed me. Cold as the deep caves. Won't look at me, won't let me help, calls me by my full name like I'm some stranger. After everything, the hunts, the necklace, I thought... I don't know. Maybe I pushed too hard."
His voice cracked slightly on the last part, vulnerability etching lines across his handsome features, the high cheekbones and full lips that usually curved in confidence now drawn tight.
Lo'ak's expression softened, though a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He clapped a hand on Neteyam's shoulder, the gesture firm and grounding. "Bro, you're overthinking it like always. Guessing games? That's for dummies. Just talk to her straight up. Ask why she's acting like that. Can't fix what you don't face."
His tone was direct, laced with that reckless honesty that always cut through Neteyam's reservations, eyes gleaming with encouragement.
The advice lingered like a persistent vine as Neteyam ventured into the forest the next morning, the canopy filtering sunlight into golden shafts that danced across the mossy undergrowth.
He needed a quiet moment, away from the clan's watchful eyes, to gather his thoughts. But fate or perhaps Eywa's subtle nudge led him to you. Hidden among the thick foliage, his body low and still like a predator's, he watched as you knelt by a cluster of luminous blossoms, their petals unfurling in shades of violet and gold.
Your form was a vision in the dappled light.
Azure skin glowing with a soft sheen from the morning dew, the curve of your spine arching gracefully as you reached forward, fingers delicate yet sure plucking the stems. Your hair cascaded in loose, silken waves, catching flecks of pollen that sparkled like stars, and the gentle swell of your hips shifted with each movement, your loincloth whispering against your thighs. Beauty radiated from you effortlessly, a quiet allure that made his chest ache with longing.
He'd missed this, missed you, the way your presence lit something fierce and tender within him.
Heart pounding, he stepped forward, leaves crunching faintly under his feet, revealing himself with a soft rustle.
You startled slightly, your hand pausing mid-reach, but when your eyes flicked up, they darted away immediately, focusing on the flowers as if they held the secrets of the universe. Your tail curled tightly around your leg, a telltale sign of unease, and you rose slowly, brushing dirt from your knees with averted gaze.
"Why?" Neteyam asked, his voice steady but laced with a raw edge of hurt, stepping closer until the space between you hummed with tension. He towered gently over you, his broad chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, the scent of earth and sweat clinging to his skin from the trek. "Why are you avoiding me like this? Is it because you do not want me to continue courting you?"
The words hung heavy, direct and unyielding, his golden eyes searching your face with desperate clarity.
Shock rippled through you, widening your amber eyes as you finally met his stare, your lips parting in disbelief. The forest seemed to still around you, the distant chirps fading as his confession sank in, this was the first time the pieces aligned, his actions no longer platonic gestures but deliberate pursuits of your heart.
"Courting?" You echoed, voice breathy with surprise, a flush creeping up your neck to tint your cheeks. "You're... courting me?"
Neteyam's brows furrowed in confusion, his head tilting slightly, braids shifting like dark rivers over his shoulders. He took a half-step nearer, the heat of his body palpable, his expression a mix of bewilderment and earnest plea.
"Of course I am." He replied, tone deepening with frustration at the misunderstanding, his large hand gesturing vaguely to encompass the memories between you. "Was it not obvious? The portions I bring from every hunt, carved just for you. The woven necklace with beads pulled from my own braids, so you'd carry a piece of me? The way I linger close, touch your arm in passing, shield you from the rougher paths during patrols?"
His voice softened on the last, eyes tracing the line of your jaw, the curve of your mouth, as if memorizing you anew.
Surprise ebbed into a whirlwind of emotions. Embarrassment heating your skin, hurt uncoiling from where you'd buried it. You looked down, fingers twisting the stem of a flower, the petal's velvet texture grounding you.
"I... I thought you were just being kind." You admitted quietly, voice trembling with the vulnerability of it, your shoulders hunching slightly as if to shield your heart. "Like a brother, or a friend. After seeing you with her, with Kalife, I felt foolish for hoping more. Embarrassed that I'd misread everything."
A soft chuckle escaped Neteyam, low and rumbling from his chest, relief flooding his features as tension eased from his frame. He shook his head, a fond smile curving his lips, exasperation mingling with amusement in his gaze.
"My fault, too." He murmured, stepping fully into your space now, his presence warm and enveloping. "I should have spoken it plain from the start. You thought I didn't want you... after everything? Baby, you thought I was just being kind? Have you ever seen me do that “kindness” to anyone else other than you?"
He paused, voice dropping to a husky whisper, eyes locking onto yours with unwavering intensity.
"The gifts, the way I stay close, the way I... watch over you, even in the quiet moments? I don’t do that for anyone else paskalin, only you."
His hand lifted, hesitating before gently cupping your cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin there, calluses rough yet tender.
Emboldened by his nearness, you pressed on, the jealousy spilling out like a dam breaking. "I saw you laughing with her, blushing. Close like you shared something special. It hurt, Neteyam. Made me think you'd chosen her, that I was never the one."
Your voice cracked, eyes glistening as you searched his face, the forest's humidity mirroring the mist in your gaze.
Neteyam's expression softened further, a gentle laugh bubbling up as he drew you nearer, his free hand capturing yours.
"I wasn't talking to her like that." He reassured, tone warm and steady, laced with a hint of playful denial. "I was asking for advice. I thought maybe you didn't want me, since you hadn't said yes to my pursuits."
He squeezed your fingers, his grip firm yet yielding.
"I only want you." His eyes sparkled with mirth, the earlier confusion dissolving into clarity. "Besides, she has a mate of her own, a woman from the weavers, just as stubborn as you."
In truth, that first encounter you'd witnessed had been Neteyam pouring out his insecurities to Kalife by the fire's edge.
"She hasn't acknowledged it." He'd confided, cheeks warming under her knowing gaze as she leaned in, her eyes teasing. "What if she doesn't see me that way?"
Kalife had grinned, her full lips quirking. "Then grow some balls and tell her outright then you'll be making babies with her under the stars soon enough.'
The blush you’ve saw had been from her bold ribbing, not affection, and Kalife's reliability stemmed from her own mated life. Her partner, that pretty girl with the rounded features and amber eyes, waited nearby, their hands often clasped in quiet solidarity.
It was all platonic guidance, her experience a steady compass for Neteyam's fumbling heart.
And those frequent talks after your avoidance? More desperate queries. "Why does she pull away? What did I do wrong?"
Kalife had offered insights, her mate chiming in with nods, but in your pain-fueled haze, you'd missed the intertwined fingers of Kalife with the woman sitting next to her that you bypassed before as she talks with Neteyam, the casual leans of their shared life, seeing only threat where there was counsel.
Relief washed over you like a cool stream, warmth blooming in your chest, easing the knot that had tightened for days. Your body relaxed, shoulders dropping as a tentative smile curved your lips, the flower's stem forgotten in your grasp.
Neteyam sensed the shift, his thumb tracing your knuckles before he lifted your joined hands, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, lips soft and lingering against your skin, breath warm and reassuring.
"You're mine." He whispered, voice thick with emotion, eyes half-lidded in quiet possession. "And I've been hoping you'd see it."
You laughed softly, the sound light and airy, embarrassment tinting your cheeks but overshadowed by bubbling happiness. Your free hand rose to rest against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath the taut muscle.
"I guess I was too slow to notice." You replied, gaze lifting to meet his, vulnerability giving way to joy.
Neteyam's smile widened, radiant and full, as he pulled you flush against him, arms encircling your waist in a secure embrace. Your bodies aligned perfectly, his height enveloping you, the solid planes of his torso pressing to your softer curves.
"You don't have to assume anymore." He promised, voice a low rumble against your ear, one hand stroking down your back in soothing arcs. "I'll make sure you always know."
The forest enveloped you both, a private sanctuary where misunderstandings melted into certainty, the pretty flowers at your feet a silent witness to the mending of hearts.
“what do you mean?” utahime asks confused, then you just bit your lip when you heard another groan. “look, I’ll tell you everything later okay. I need to go.”
you ended the call with utahime still protesting. your heart starts racing. you force yourself to stay perfectly still, as if that might undo reality. two options present themselves immediately—neither comforting.
option one: slip out quietly. pretend this never happened. avoid eye contact for the rest of the semester. transfer majors, maybe transfer schools. fake your own death.
option two: stay. ask what happened and face whatever terrible, humiliating truth your memory has mercifully blocked out.
you’re still weighing your odds when you feel movement to your right.
you freeze and slowly, you turn your head.
gojo is awake. oh no.
he squints against the light, then rubs his eyes, hair even more chaotic than usual. when his gaze lands on you, his expression softens—not smug, not teasing. it was actually gentle.
“you’re awake?” he murmurs, voice still rough with sleep. he sits up slightly, then smiles like this is the most natural thing in the world. “c’mon, come back to bed, sweetheart. it’s way too early.”
he pats the space between himself and geto, who hasn’t woken yet.
your brain short-circuits.
sweetheart?
come back to bed?
between them?
you swallow hard, suddenly very aware of how warm it is under the blankets and how carefully, deliberately, neither of them is touching you now.
satoru blinks down at you, eyes still hazy with sleep, a lazy smile tugging at his mouth like this is the most natural thing in the world.
you don’t move.
“gojo,” you croak. “why am I here.”
that seems to wake him up a little more.
he hums thoughtfully, then flops back onto the pillows, hands laced behind his head. “ohhh, right. you don’t remember.”
you stomach drops. “remember what.”
from your other side, there’s a low groan. it was deeper and he sounded annoyed.
“you two, too loud,” suguru mutters, voice rough with sleep. “I can’t sleep with you two yapping.”
you nearly jump out of the bed.
gojo laughs immediately, bright and unrepentant. “see? told you.”
you sit up too fast and regret it instantly, head pounding. both of them react at the same time—gojo’s hand steadying your back, geto reaching out with a quiet, practiced ease to keep you from tipping over.
“easy,” suguru says.
you stare at them. “why are you both… so nice right now.”
that earns you matching looks.
satoru tilts his head, blue eyes scanning your face. “do you want the long version or the embarrassing one?”
“…the honest one.”
he grins. “they’re the same.”
suguru sighs but props himself up on one elbow, clearly resigning himself to this. “just tell her.”
“okay, okay.” satoru clears his throat dramatically. “so. last night. party at haibara's place and you show up fashionably late and already pretty drunk.”
“well I didn’t want to go,” you mumble.
“oh, yeah we noticed,” satoru says lightly. “you walked in like you were already mad at every single person in there." this comment made suguru snort.
satoru continues, “you spot us across the room and immediately made a beeline.”
your face burns. “no I didn’t.” your mouth hung ajar, trying to recall that exact moment. you remember bits and pieces.
“you absolutely did,” suguru says. “and you, sweetie, poked my chest. that actually hurt. I think that left a bruise." he adds, rubbing a spot on his chest.
“…I what?”
“then, you asked us,” satoru's says, eyes softening just a bit, “what our problem was.”
you pursed your lips in a thin line trying to suppress your embarrassment.
“…oh.”
satoru shrugs. “which, fair question, honestly.”
“you were already slurring,” suguru adds. “you could barely stand and kept looking around like you’d lost something, darling.”
“my friends,” you whisper.
“yeah,” satoru nods. “you couldn’t find them and your phone was dead, you can't remember their number and then some guys started hovering and—” his smile fades, and his head shook at the memory. “and we didn’t like that.”
suguru picks up from there, voice calm but firm. “so we took you home.”
“to your home,” you say faintly.
“well yeah, here. our apartment,” satoru corrects. “which was probably the safest option. what can we do, sweetheart, you agreed very enthusiastically and repeatedly."
you bury your face in your hands in embarrassment.
“and then,” satoru says, brightening again, “you looked at both of us and went—” he pitches his voice higher, exaggerated. “‘you’re cute. both of you. I don't even know why I hated your guts in class.'"
“oh my god,” you groaned, face reddening even more.
suguru's mouth quirks despite himself. “you tried to climb satoru like a tree.”
“I what—” your eyes widened, already wishing the floor would eat you alive.
“relax,” gojo says quickly, sitting up again. “nothing happened. we stopped you.”
suguru nods. “you weren’t sober. end of discussion.” you didn't know what to feel, if you wanted to crawl into a hole and bury yourself alive or if you should be happy.
you peek up at them, stunned. “you stopped me?”
satoru's expression turns unexpectedly gentle. “of course we did.”
“you kept saying you’d regret it,” suguru adds. “and we didn't want be someone you regretted.”
“…I don’t hate you,” you say quietly. “I just—get intimidated. you both act like you own the room. and you're both really smart and...” you trailed off.
gojp blinks. then smiles, softer this time. “you told us that too.”
“and then,” suguru says, “you cried. for like, ten minutes about midterms.”
“that tracks,” you mutter.
gojo laughs, then nudges you gently. “well, you were really clingy. wouldn't let go of both of us."
“you fell asleep right here,” geto says, gesturing vaguely between them. “you wouldn't budge.”
you swallow, emotions buzzing uncomfortably close to the surface. “oh gosh, I’m sorry.”
“for what?” satoru asks.
“about everything I did last night.”
they exchange a look over your head. a quiet understanding and agreement.
“you’re okay,” suguru says. “really.”
satoru pats the mattress. “so come on, let's go back to sleep. stay, at least until your head stops spinning.”
you hesitate, then slowly lie back down, sandwiched between warmth and steady breathing.
gojo grins, satisfied. “see? not so bad.”
"and if you wake up and decide you still want us, we'll be here." geto says with a menacing grin, adding a wink that made your face heat up again.
you tried to sleep. you really did.
but it’s hard when you’re wedged between two bodies that radiate warmth, when every breath you take feels borrowed from someone else’s space.
you’re facing gojo, close enough that you can count the slow rise and fall of his chest. one of his arms is slung lazily around your waist, loose but certain, like he’d tug you back without even waking if you tried to move away. his white lashes cast faint shadows against his cheeks, and his lips—so plush, so pink, and so unfairly soft-looking—are parted just slightly as he breathes.
you swallow, mouth watering just from staring.
you’d hated him once. or at least told yourself you did. he was too loud and too smug. he's too much.
but now your brain won’t stop wondering what those lips would feel like against yours.
then there’s warmth at the back of your neck. suguru’s breath brushes your nape, slow and steady, the softest ghost of air that still manages to send a shiver straight down your spine. he’s closer than you realized. he's close enough that if you shifted even an inch, you’d feel him fully, unmistakably.
your fingers curl into the sheets.
maybe it’s the leftover buzz in your veins. maybe it’s the safety of being held like this, wrapped in their presence, no expectations and no judgment. or maybe because you three are just waiting for someone to make a move.
so, for the first time since you went to college, you decided to actually take a risk and do something lifechanging (for the good, maybe for the bad, you don't even know. you just wanted to make a change.)
you moved your ass, pressing it close to where you felt suguru's hips were. and you moved your face closer to satoru's.
you saw it, the way satoru's mouth twitched upward.
as you make your move, satoru's eyes flicker open, blue eyes meeting your gaze with a look of surprise that quickly melts into a slow, sensual smile. "well, well, well... looks like someone's feeling adventurous," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with sleep. his hand slides from the back of your neck to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your lower lip teasingly.
behind you, suguru stirs, his grip on your waist tightening possessively as he nuzzles into your hair, pulling you closer to him. "mmm, I think our cutie is trying to tell us something," he rumbles, his breath hot against your neck. you can feel the growing hardness pressing against your ass, a testament to his own awakening desire.
satoru leans in closer, his lips a hairsbreadth away from yours. "is this what you want, sweetheart? to pick up where we left off last night?" his words are a low purr, his eyes darkening with lust as they roam over your face, lingering on your parted lips.
your heart races, your skin tingling with anticipation. you nod slightly, your nose brushing against his, your breath mingling with his own. "yes please," you whisper, your voice barely audible but heavy with want.
suguru chuckles softly, his hand sliding up from your waist to cup your breast through your shirt. he squeezes gently, his thumb finding your nipple and rolling it between his fingers, coaxing it to stiffen beneath the thin fabric and making you let out a gasp. "I thought you might say that," he murmurs, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.
satoru takes your hesitation as invitation, closing the remaining distance between you and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. his mouth is every bit as soft and warm as you imagined, his lips moving skillfully against yours as he explores your mouth with a hunger that steals your breath away. you can taste the faint flavor of toothpaste and something uniquely satoru. a heady combination that makes your head spin and your core clench with need.
suguru then takes the opportunity to slip your shirt up and over your head, breaking the kiss only long enough for the fabric to clear your face. he tosses your shirt aside carelessly, leaving you bare from the waist up. his hands immediately find your breasts again, palming the soft mounds, his thumbs immediately find your nipples again, twisting them between his fingers, making you let out a sweet moan that got lost in satoru’s mouth.
satoru groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you and settling in your core like a physical ache. he breaks the kiss, only to trail his lips down the column of your throat, "fuck, you taste even better than I imagined," he growls, his hands sliding down your sides to grip your hips possessively.
behind you, suguru's hands skim down your stomach, his fingers dipping teasingly beneath the waistband of your panties. "and you're just as responsive," he murmurs, his lips curving into a wicked grin against your neck. "I can feel how wet you are, sweetheart."
confident enough, you reach out, your hands finding their chests. you can feel the firmness of their muscles, the way they tense beneath your touch. suguru's chest is broader, more muscular, while satoru's is leaner, all hard lines and defined contours but both are warm and smooth.
suguru takes advantage of your distraction, hooking his fingers into your panties and tugging them down your legs. you lift your hips instinctively, helping him remove the last barrier between you and their questing hands. the cool air against your heated flesh makes you shiver, your thighs clenching together for a moment before suguru parts them with his knee, settling between them.
satoru watches, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of your naked body splayed out between them. "god, you're gorgeous," he breathes, his hand sliding down your stomach to cup your mound. his fingers find your slit, stroking through the slick folds teasingly. "and so fucking wet. is this all for us, sweetheart?"
behind you, suguru nips at your earlobe, his hand sliding around to grip your ass. "we're going to make you feel so good," he promises, trailing kisses down your neck.
satoru parts your slick folds with his fingers, his middle finger delving deep inside you. you gasp, your back arching off the bed as he starts to pump his finger in and out of you, his thumb finding your clit and circling the sensitive nub in tight, teasing circles.
behind you, suguru takes the opportunity to slip a finger into your mouth, you suck his fingers. he pumps it slowly, matching the rhythm of satoru's finger fucking your pussy. "that's it, darling. let us make you feel good," he coaxes, his lips and teeth teasing your shoulder.
satoru leans down, his tongue latching onto one of your nipples before drawing it into his mouth. he sucks hard as he fucks you with his finger, curling it to rub against that special spot inside you that makes your toes curl.
you can feel the hard, hot length of satoru's cock pressing against your hip, the thick shaft throbbing with his heartbeat. behind you, suguru grinds his own erection against the cleft of your ass, the friction delicious and maddening all at once.
"please," you whimper, your hips rolling instinctively to meet their touches, to chase the pleasure they're building inside you. "please, I need... I need..."
"you need to be filled," satoru finishes for you, his voice a low, rough growl. "you need to be stretched around our cocks, need to feel us deep inside this tight little pussy." to emphasize his point, he adds a second finger, pumping them harder, faster, his palm grinding against your clit with every thrust.
behind you, suguru chuckles, the sound dark and filled with promise. "we're going to fill every hole, baby. gonna claim this body in every way possible."
"open your mouth, sweetheart," suguru commands softly, his voice low and heavy with desire.
you obey instinctively, parting your lips to let out a gasp as satoru’s fingers continue to move on your dripping pussy. suguru takes advantage of your open mouth, his fingers gripping your chin to hold you steady as he brings his rigid cock to your lips.
"tongue out, baby," he murmurs, the head of his cock brushing against your bottom lip, smearing the bead of pre-cum that has gathered at the tip. "get a taste of what's to come."
you extend your tongue, your taste buds tingling as the salty-sweet flavor of his arousal explodes across your senses. your lips wrap around the swollen head, your mouth stretching to accommodate his girth as he pushes forward, inch by hard inch disappearing past your lips.
suguru groans, his grip on your chin tightening slightly as he fights the urge to thrust forward, to bury himself to the hilt in your hot, willing mouth. "fuck, that's it," he grunts, his hips rocking subtly, fucking your face with shallow little thrusts that let you feel every throbbing vein and ridge of his thick cock.
under you, gojo’s fingers never stop their relentless pumping, his thumb rubbing tight circles around your clit. "take it, sweetheart. take his cock like a good girl. show him how much you want it."
you moan around the thick flesh stretching your lips, your tongue fluttering along the underside of suguru’s shaft as he starts to thrust faster, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm. you can feel him hitting the back of your throat with every pump of his hips, can feel your throat constricting around him, trying to pull him deeper.
suguru’s fingers tighten in your hair, gripping the strands as he starts to fuck your face in earnest, his cock driving in and out of your mouth, your lips stretched wide around his girth. drools starts to leak from the corners of your mouth, your chin and cheeks glistening with saliva and pre-cum as he uses your mouth.
"shit, your mouth feels so good," he grunts, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper down your throat. you can feel the head pushing against the back of your throat with every thrust, making you gag and choke around his thick length.
satoru’s fingers pick up their pace, plunging into your dripping cunt with a speed that has your body shaking.
you moan around geto’s shaft, the obscene sound muffled by the thick flesh stuffed into your mouth. your tongue works the underside, tracing the pulsing veins and ridges, savoring the salty-sweet taste of his arousal.
suguru sets a punishing pace, fucking your face with a intensity that makes your eyes water and your lungs burn for air. but you don't stop him, don't pull away.
he throws his head back, a low groan tearing from his throat as he hilts himself fully in your mouth, his cock pulsing and throbbing, the thick head lodged in the tight passage of your throat. "fuck, I'm going to cum," he warns.
“that's it, sweetheart. cum all over my fingers like the dirty little slut.” you feel your body tensing, your toes curling as the coil of tension in your belly winds tighter and tighter. your pussy clenches around gojo’s plunging fingers, the slick walls fluttering wildly as your orgasm approaches. geto’s cock pulses in your mouth, the thick shaft throbbing against your tongue as he chases his own release.
with a final, brutal thrust, suguru hilts himself fully in your throat, his heavy balls slapping against your chin. "fuck, I'm cumming!" he roars, his fingers twisting almost painfully in your hair as hot, thick ropes of cum shoot down your throat. you feel the liquid heat of his seed filling your throat.
at the same time, satoru pinches your clit hard, the sharp sting sending you hurtling over the edge into ecstasy. your pussy clamps down on his fingers like a vice, rippling and squeezing, letting a scream of pure pleasure errupt from your stuffed mouth, the sound muffled and distorted but unmistakable.
wave after wave of bliss washes over you, your body shuddering and shaking, back arching as your cunt gushes around gojo’s fingers, drenching his hand in your juices. geto grunts and groans above you, his cock pulsing as he slips it out of your dripping mouth.
satoru doesn't let up, continuing to fuck your spasming pussy through your climax, drawing out your pleasure until it borders on pain. suguru’s grip on your hair keeps you in place, holding you steady.
a strand of saliva and cum connects your lips to suguru’s shaft before breaking, allowing him to tuck himself away. satoru slows his movements, his fingers gentling in your over-sensitive flesh.
you collapse back onto the bed, chest heaving, sweat dampening your skin.
“oh, we’re not done yet, sugar.” satoru announces. geto pats his lap, you obey by lifting yourself up and moving to him.
he guides your back to his chest, his hard cock still pulsing and pressing onto your the flesh of your back.
suguru finds your jaw and starts trailing kisses down to your neck and shoulders while satoru busies himself in your mouth. then he leans over one of your nipples before drawing it into his mouth. “mmm, these tits are perfect," he murmurs against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.
satoru chuckles darkly. "you like that, sweetheart? you like having both of us all over you, touching you, tasting you?" he purrs, his fingers sliding out of your dripping cunt. he brings them to his lips, making a show of licking your juices from the digits, his eyes never leaving yours.
"delicious. almost as sweet as your pretty little mouth."
with his other hand, satoru grips your hip, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he lines himself up with your entrance. you can feel the thick head of his cock nudging against your slick folds, the heat of him searing your skin. "I'm going to fuck this tight pussy now," he announces, his voice low and rough with desire. "I'm going to fill you up so good, sweetheart.“
suguru switches to your other breast, his lips and tongue lavishing the same attention on the neglected nipple. he bites down, just hard enough to make you gasp, before soothing the sting with his tongue. then, his hand slides down your stomach, his fingers dipping teasingly into your navel before moving lower, lower, until they're brushing against your slick, swollen lips.
satoru then chooses that moment to thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth, powerful stroke. a guttural moan tears from his throat as your pussy stretches around him, your walls fluttering wildly at the sudden invasion.
a shivering gasp leaves your lips.
“fuck, you're so tight," gojo grunts, his hips already starting to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, setting a hard, deep rhythm. "so fucking perfect and tight and mine."
suguru’s teeth close around your nipple, biting down just hard enough to make you cry out, the sound swallowed by satoru’s lips claiming your mouth in a bruising kiss.
suguru’s fingers then dance over your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight, rapid circles. at the same time, gojo pistons his hips, driving into you with deep, powerful thrusts that rock your entire body. the dual stimulation has you seeing stars, your back arching off the bed as you moan into satoru’s mouth.
suguru releases your nipple with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your red, throbbing flesh. "look at you, taking his cock like you were made for it," he praises, his voice a low, approving rumble. "such a good girl for us."
gojo growls into your mouth, his tongue dominating yours, claiming you thoroughly. his hand grips your hip harder, pulling you onto his thrusts, forcing you to take him deeper, harder, faster. the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your moans and the creaking of the bed frame.
suguru’s fingers dip lower, teasing your entrance where satoru’s cock isn't plunging in and out. he gathers your slick arousal, bringing his coated fingers to your lips. "taste yourself, sweetheart," he coaxes, pressing his fingers against your lips.
you part your lips obediently, your tongue darting out to lick his digits clean. the flavor of your own essence explodes across your taste buds, and you can't help but moan at the erotic taste. gojo swallows the sound greedily, his hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm.
"that’s it, baby. taste how sweet you are," geto praises, his fingers sliding from your lips to brush against satoru’s, slick with your juices. "you’re dripping all over his cock. he must feel so good inside this greedy little cunt."
the white haired boy pulls back from the kiss, his eyes dark and wild as he takes in the sight of you, lost in pleasure, fucking yourself back onto his cock with abandon. "fuck, I'm getting close," he grunts, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more urgent. "gonna fill this pussy up. pump you full of my cum."
geto leans in, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear,
his voice drops to a dark murmur, his breath hot against your ear. "and I'm going to watch him do it.“ his hand slides around to grip your ass, squeezing the cheek hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises. "come on, beg for it, sweetheart. beg him to fill you up. let me hear how badly you want it."
gojo snarls, his hips slamming forward with a newfound ferocity. the headboard of their bed slams against the wall with each powerful thrust, the sound echoing through the room like a carnal drumbeat. "I can feel you squeezing me. you want it, don't you? want me to pump you full of my hot, thick cum?"
"yes, please!" you cry out, your voice breaking on a scream as another orgasm crashes through you. your pussy clamps down on satoru’s pistoning cock like a vice, rippling and fluttering wildly around the thick shaft.
"please, fill me up! I want it, I want your cum, please give it to me!"
suguru lets out a groan, his cock throbbing on your back at the erotic sight of you coming undone on satoru’s cock, begging so sweetly for his release. "that’s it, baby. milk his cock. make him give you what you need," he urges, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass.
with another groan, satoru hilts himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he starts to cum. his hot, thick seed shoots deep into your spasming cunt, painting your walls white just like suguru promised. he grinds against your cervix, making sure every last drop takes root inside you.
suguru watches, enraptured, his hand fisting around his own throbbing cock. the sight of you stuffed full of gojo’s cum, your belly slightly distended from the sheer volume, has him panting harshly. "fuck, that's so hot," he breathes, his eyes roaming over your debauched body hungrily. "such a perfect little cum dump for us."
geto’s hand slides up your body, his fingers brushing over your sensitive nipples, making you shiver.
"such a good girl, taking him so well," he praises, his voice rough with lust. "you look so beautiful like this, filled to the brim."
satoru pulls out of you slowly, his cock slipping from your well-used hole with a gush of his cum. he watches, transfixed, as his cum starts to leak out of you, dribbling down the curve of your ass. "fuck, that was intense," he says, his voice wrecked and sated. "you were incredible, sweetheart."
suguru chuckles, his hand sliding down to catch some of the leaked cum on his fingers and pushing it back inside your fluttering pussy.
the gesture making your toes curl. satoru’s watches, his eyes dark and hungry watching you.
"mmm, you look so fucking hot right now," satoru murmurs, his hand coming down to rub the curve of your belly, feeling the slight bulge of his cum inside you. "I can't believe I got to be the one to fill up this perfect pussy first."
"don’t worry, darling," suguru assures, his lips curving into a wicked grin. "I’ll get my turn soon enough. we’re nowhere near done with you yet."
after the steamy fucking the three of you collapse into a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs and satisfied sighs. satoru and suguru sandwich you between them, their strong arms wrapped around you protectively. they stroke your hair, your skin, murmuring words of praise and affection as you all catch your breath.
suguru presses soft kisses to your temple, your cheek, your jaw, his lips lingering on your skin like he's trying to commit the taste of you to memory. "you did so well, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. "took us beautifully, like you were made for this."
satoru nuzzles into your neck, inhaling deeply, breathing in the scent of your hair. "such a good girl," he agrees, his hand cupping your cheek, tilting your face towards him so he can capture your lips in a slow, deep kiss. it’s a kiss full of tenderness and something more, something that makes your heart skip a beat.
they hold you close, their bodies warming you, their hands soothing you as the afterglow settles over you like a cozy blanket. you can feel the steady rhythm of their hearts, hear the even sound of their breathing, and you know that in this moment, you are exactly where you're meant to be.
"rest now, darling," suguru murmurs, his fingers tracing patterns on your hip. "you’ve earned it. we’ll be right here when you wake up."
satoru presses another kiss to your lips, soft and sweet. "sweet dreams, sweetheart. we’ll make sure you're taken care of." he strokes your hair, his touch gentle and soothing.
in the warm cocoon of their embrace, you feel safe, cherished, and utterly content. your eyelids grow heavy, the events of the night catching up to you as you drift off to sleep, surrounded by the two people who have shown you such pleasure, such bliss, such overwhelming ecstasy.
as you slip into slumber, you hear their voices, low and murmured, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter.
"we should do this more often," suguru suggests, a hint of a smile in his voice.
"agree," gojo responds, his hand resting possessively on your hip, claiming you even in sleep.
"but next time, I call dibs on fucking first." suguru says.
"greedy, aren't you?" satoru teases, a hint of laughter in his voice. "alright, but only if I get to watch. I want to see that cute ass jiggle as she bounces on your cock."
"deal," suguru agrees, a grin spreading across his face at the thought of sinking into your tight heat again. "sweet dreams, sweetheart. we’ll be right here when you wake up, ready for round two."
and that’s when it hits you.
maybe you didn’t hate them after all.
maybe you hated how easy it was to feel invisible next to people who seemed so sure of themselves—and how terrifying it was to want to be seen by them anyway.
and you thought to yourself as you feel sleep creeping up to you, the girls are gonna bust a nerve when they hear about this.
masterlist | tootsuro all rights reserved. do no steal.
The large, gilded mirror in Zuko’s private chambers reflected everything.
Moonlight spilled across the room, but the only light that mattered was the warm glow of the candles and the way Zuko’s golden eyes burned as he held you. He had you on your knees in front of the mirror, your upper body pressed forward, chest nearly touching the cool floor while your ass stayed raised for him.
“Zuko—” you whimpered as he pushed back inside you from behind, slow and deep, stretching you open around his thick cock.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmured playfully, voice low and rough with desire. His large, scarred hands slid over yours, fingers threading between yours and pinning them firmly to the floor on either side of your head. He used his weight to keep you deliciously trapped beneath him, completely at his mercy.
You could see everything in the mirror.
The way your face was flushed and desperate, lips parted, eyes glassy with pleasure. Zuko’s powerful body caged yours from behind, his broad shoulders and muscular back flexing with every thrust. His dark hair had fallen loose from its topknot, strands sticking to his sweat-dampened skin.
He leaned down, pressing his chest flush against your back, and kissed the side of your neck before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin just below your ear. You moaned loudly, clenching around him.
“Look at yourself,” Zuko whispered hotly against your ear, voice sweet and filthy at the same time. “Look how pretty you look when I’m fucking you like this.”
He rocked his hips deeper, grinding against you, keeping you pinned with his body and his hands over yours. Every thrust pushed you forward slightly before he pulled you back onto his cock, controlling the pace completely.
“You feel so good,” he groaned, biting down on your shoulder again, then soothing the mark with his tongue. “So tight… so warm… You’re mine, aren’t you?”
You whimpered pathetically, unable to do anything but take him. The position had your legs spread wide, knees bent, while Zuko’s strong arms kept your upper body locked down and his hips did all the work. You could barely move — only tremble and moan beneath him.
In the mirror, you watched his face — the way his eyes darkened with lust every time your expression twisted in pleasure. He was drinking it in, savoring every little whimper, every flutter of your lashes, every time your mouth fell open in a silent cry.
“That’s it, love,” he praised softly, kissing the shell of your ear. “Let me hear those pretty sounds. I love when you fall apart for me.”
His thrusts grew a little faster, deeper, still controlled but more insistent. One of his hands stayed laced with yours, the other sliding slightly to grip your wrist as he nipped at your neck again.
The pleasure was building unbearably fast. Your thighs started shaking, pussy fluttering wildly around his thick cock with every deep stroke. “Zuko— I’m— I’m gonna—”
“That’s it,” he encouraged, voice strained with lust. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Let me see you fall apart in the mirror.”
Your orgasm crashed over you hard. You cried out his name, eyes locked on your own reflection as your face contorted in pleasure, mouth open in a broken moan. Your walls clenched rhythmically around him, squeezing his cock as waves of intense pleasure rolled through your body. Zuko groaned deeply, fucking you through every pulse and twitch of your orgasm.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered tenderly, even as he fucked you harder. “All flushed and needy… taking everything I give you. My perfect girl.”
You moaned his name brokenly, eyes locked on the mirror — on the sight of Zuko claiming you so completely, his body dominating yours while his voice stayed so sweet and loving in your ear.
He smiled against your skin, eyes never leaving your reflection.
“I could watch you like this forever.”
His pace suddenly became more desperate, hips snapping harder against your ass. “Fuck— you’re squeezing me so tight,” he growled, breath hot against your neck. “I’m close…”
With a few final, deep thrusts, Zuko buried himself to the hilt inside you. He came with a low, guttural groan, pressing his forehead against your shoulder as thick, hot spurts of cum flooded your pussy. You felt every pulse — the way his cock throbbed hard inside you, pumping rope after rope of warm seed deep into your womb. The sensation was overwhelming, making your belly feel full and warm.
Your eyes stayed glued to the mirror, unable to look away. You watched Zuko’s face contort in raw pleasure, his golden eyes fluttering half-shut, lips parted as he moaned your name. His muscular body tensed behind you, hips stuttering as he kept grinding slowly, pushing his cum even deeper. You could see the moment it started to leak out — thick, pearly white fluid dripping down your thighs from where his cock stretched you open.
A broken, shaky whimper escaped your lips. The sight of him filling you combined with the intense warmth spreading inside you pushed you into another smaller, trembling orgasm. Your walls fluttered and clenched around his pulsing cock, milking him for every last drop as you moaned helplessly.
“Zuko… oh gods—” you gasped, voice hoarse and wrecked. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and arousal at how obscene you looked in the mirror — flushed, teary-eyed, and leaking his cum while he stayed buried deep inside you.
Zuko stayed buried inside you for a long moment, breathing heavily, placing soft kisses of the back of your neck while his hand gently stroked your side.
“Mine,” he whispered possessively, golden eyes still fixed on your joined bodies in the mirror. “All mine.”
summary: in which garrett receives an almost unreadable message from you while you're out celebrating one of your close friends birthdays. offering to pick you up, garrett has an interesting car ride home and rest of the night.
pairing: garrett graham x fem!reader
notes: hi! just some established relationship fluff! i hope you enjoy <3
ꪆৎ
saying you were slightly intoxicated would’ve been a drastic understatement. it was the night of allie’s birthday, and while the celebrations had started off relatively tame - just a small night in with close friends, somewhere between the second round of margaritas and the dangerously sweet cocktail allie kept forcing into everyone’s hands, you’d managed to consume more alcohol in a few hours than you normally drank across an entire semester.
you weren’t big on drinking, and that made your tolerance for it incredibly low.
the soft buzz of garrett’s phone vibrating against the kitchen counter interrupts the sound of the hockey highlights playing quietly from the television in the background. it was nearly one in the morning, and despite the fact he had conditioning at eight and an early lift before practice, he’d promised he’d stay awake to pick you up.
you had tried to tell him at least six separate times that you could just uber home.
he hadn’t listened to a single one.
garrett was stubborn in a way that felt gentle rather than frustrating, and once he’d decided something, there was really no changing his mind.
especially when it came to you. he’d told you earlier that evening that there was “absolutely no universe” where he was letting you get into a random rideshare drunk and alone at one in the morning.
so eventually you’d given up.
stretching across the couch in the hockey house living room, garrett reaches for his phone, the corner of his mouth immediately twitching upward the second he sees your contact flash across the screen.
y/n <3: garrettttt
a laugh slips from his lips.
y/n <3: garret
y/n <3: garret grahm
y/n <3: i mis u
he shakes his head affectionately before typing back.
garrett: miss you too sweetheart
garrett: you okay over there?
y/n <3: yes
y/n <3: maybe
y/n <3: no
y/n <3: allie keeps pouring me more margarita mix
another quiet chuckle leaves him.
garrett: yeah i figured
garrett: want me to come get you now?
y/n <3: im fineeeeee
y/n <3: very fine actually
y/n <3: grace says i am glowing
garrett: that sounds terrifying
y/n <3: ur mean
garrett: i’m coming to get you
y/n <3: ok
y/n <3: i lob you
his entire expression softens at that.
garrett: love you more, y/n. see you soon
garrett grabs his keys from beside dean’s protein shaker before making his way out the front door.
the winter air is freezing, cold enough that he immediately shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket while making his way towards his jeep.
twenty minutes later he’s pulling into the dorm complex where allie lives.
only one other car remains parked outside.
everyone else had obviously already left.
garrett jogs up the stairs two at a time before knocking lightly against the door. he barely waits ten seconds before allie swings the door open, smiling at him sheepishly before opening the door wider, signalling for him to follow her inside.
"she's in the living room", allie states, a hint of amusement evidently laced in her voice.
garrett follows the sound of your voice before finally spotting you curled up sideways across the couch, your heels abandoned somewhere near the coffee table while you sat clutching allie’s decorative throw pillow against your chest.
the second your eyes land on him, your entire face lights up.
“garrett!” you gasp loudly, as though you haven’t seen him in weeks instead of six hours.
his chest physically tightens at the sight of you.
god.
even drunk out of your mind you were still the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.
the apartment itself looked exactly like the aftermath of an allie hayes birthday celebration - empty margarita glasses scattered across the counter, half deflated balloons hanging from the ceiling fan, confetti covering nearly every surface imaginable. somewhere in the corner grace was asleep, wrapped entirely in a blanket burrito while allie attempted to clean up around her.
garrett’s attention shifts briefly toward the line of alcohol bottles littering the kitchen counter before settling back on you.
definitely the reason behind your texts.
“hi baby,” he says softly, moving toward the couch.
“you’re so handsome,” you mumble immediately.
garrett merely shakes his head, although he can’t stop the smile tugging at his mouth
“thanks sweetheart.”
“like offensively handsome,” you continue seriously, staring at him. “it’s actually rude.”
he crouches down in front of where you sat, reaching his hands out to fix your dress, "how'd this happen silly?" he questions, amusement laced clearly in the tone of his voice.
in an attempt to untangle your dress, he lifts the top half slightly, the movement exposing the black lace bralette beneath. his eyes drag briefly over the newly revealed skin before returning to your face, a quiet grin tugging at his mouth as he smooths the fabric back into place.
you stare at him intently, watching as he carefully repositions your dress.
“how much did you drink?” he asks carefully.
you stare at him for a moment.
“…yes.”
allie bursts out laughing from the kitchen.
garrett exhales through his nose, fighting back his own amusement before carefully helping you sit upright. his hand resting gently on your exposed thigh.
“come on baby,” he murmurs gently.
“let’s get you home.”
you slowly nod, wanting nothing more than to be in the comfort of garrett's bed, falling asleep in his arms. you allow him to carefully pick you up bridal style.
before leaving, he says goodbye to allie and hannah, thanking them for taking care of you while simultaneously apologising for your current state.
the cold air hits your face the second garrett steps outside, causing you to bury yourself deeper against his chest while he carries you towards the car.
once he gets you settled safely into the passenger seat and buckles your seatbelt himself, he finally climbs into the driver’s seat.
for a few minutes the drive is quiet.
his hand rests casually on your thigh while soft music hums through the speakers. you find yourself staring shamelessly at his side profile which had been illuminated by passing streetlights.
god.
he really was beautiful.
“garrett?”
“yeah baby?”
“are you real?”
his lips twitch upward instantly.
“pretty sure.”
“no but like…” you narrow your eyes at him thoughtfully. “you’re too attractive to be real.”
he laughs quietly, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your thigh.
“you’re drunk, y/n.”
“mhm.”
another few seconds pass before you suddenly turn toward him fully.
“kiss me.”
garrett glances over briefly before returning his attention to the road.
“can’t right now sweetheart, i’m driving.”
your entire face falls.
“but you love me.”
“i do love you.”
“then kiss me.”
“baby-”
“liar,” you mumble under your breath, crossing your arms dramatically and turning toward the window.
unfortunately for you, he hears it.
garrett sighs softly before signalling and pulling the car carefully off to the side of the empty road.
the second he parks, he turns fully towards you.
“look at me.”
you refuse.
“y/n.”
still nothing.
then his hand gently hooks beneath your chin, guiding your face back towards his.
“i literally pulled over just to kiss you.”
guilt immediately floods through you.
“sorry,” you whisper.
his expression softens instantly.
“c’mere.”
the moment you lean forward his lips meet yours, warm and familiar and impossibly soft. his hand slips into your hair while the other remains resting against your jaw, kissing you slowly like he has absolutely nowhere else to be.
you melt immediately.
when he finally pulls away, he presses several smaller kisses across your cheeks and forehead while mumbling quiet i love you’s against your skin, each one making your chest ache a little more.
you giggle softly, pushing lightly against his chest. “okay i get it.”
“do you?”
“yes.”
“good.”
-
eventually the two of you make it back to the hockey house.
the second you walk through the front door, you attempt to wander towards the kitchen, but garrett catches your wrist instantly.
“where are you going?”
“water.”
his eyes narrow suspiciously.
“…vodka”
“absolutely not, y/n.”
heavy footsteps suddenly sound from the stairs.
“g?”
dean’s voice carries through the hallway a second before he appears around the corner wearing grey sweats, clearly about to make himself an absurdly late-night snack.
his eyes land on you first.
then the way you’re practically hanging off garrett’s side.
then your smudged makeup.
then the heels dangling loosely from your fingers.
dean grins immediately.
“oh this is bad.”
“dean,” garrett warns tiredly.
“no, no,” dean continues, holding both hands up defensively while very obviously trying not to laugh.
“i’m just impressed she’s still standing. last time allie got her drunk she fell asleep in the booth at malone's still holding her drink.”
you immediately point at him. “that happened one time.”
dean chuckles, "and i'll never forget it, y/n."
garrett exhales a laugh under his breath while tightening his grip slightly around your waist to steady you.
“you’re both insufferable,” he mutters.
dean points lazily at him. “says the guy who physically cannot go one party without turning it into a hockey strategy meeting.”
garrett scoffs immediately. “that is not true.”
“really?” dean asks. “because last week at tucker’s thing you spent forty minutes talking about eastwood’s defensive structure.”
“we had a game next week,” garrett argues.
“we always have a game next week” dean says smugly. “normal college students drink tequila. you start analysing power plays.”
you’re not entirely sure why the conversation is suddenly the funniest thing in the world, but a burst of laughter escapes you anyway, hard enough that your forehead drops against garrett’s shoulder while your fingers curl lazily into the front of his hoodie.
dean watches you fondly before shaking his head.
“she’s gone.”
“completely,” garrett agrees.
“hey,” you mumble defensively, lifting your head slightly. “i’m still aware.”
dean raises an eyebrow. “really?”
you squint at him. “…why are there two of you?”
“there it is,” dean says proudly.
garrett pinches the bridge of his nose while trying not to laugh and before either of you can react, dean walks over and pulls you into a quick side hug.
“missed you tonight, troublemaker.”
the movement nearly knocks you off balance, unsteady from the amount of alcohol still coursing through your system. garrett’s arm tightens instinctively around your waist, grounding you before you stumble.
“dean,” he says sharply.
“relax,” dean laughs. “you caught her.”
you grin up at dean lazily. “you smell like fries.”
“thank you.”
“that wasn’t a compliment.”
dean places a hand over his chest in mock offence. “wow. i open my home to you, i support your relationship, i let you steal our food every weekend-”
“your food?” garrett interrupts. “she literally buys half the groceries in this house.”
“and yet somehow my cereal still disappears every time she stays over.”
you gasp dramatically. “because we both like the same cereal!”
garrett’s shoulders shake slightly with quiet laughter while dean continues pointing accusingly at you.
“last week i went to pour myself lucky charms and there were three marshmallows left in the box.”
you blink innocently. “well, that sounds like a you problem.”
“you’re lucky i love you.”
you immediately grin. “i know.”
dean narrows his eyes suspiciously before looking at garrett. “she gets mean when she’s drunk.”
“she gets mean when she’s sober too.”
“true.”
you smack garrett lightly in the chest. “not true.”
he catches your hand instantly, pressing a quick kiss against your knuckles while smiling softly. “still love you though.”
dean groans loudly.
“you two are disgusting.”
you’re still giggling when garrett finally starts guiding you toward the stairs.
“okay,” he says, voice warm with amusement. “time for bed before she starts another argument.”
“night, y/n,” dean calls after you.
you turn around mid-step. “goodnight deanie!”
dean immediately smirks and points at garrett. “she never gives you cute nicknames like that.”
“baby is literally a nickname.”
“not as cute as deanie.”
garrett flips him off without missing a beat, earning a loud laugh from dean as he disappears back into the kitchen while garrett continues leading you upstairs, quietly muttering about how he desperately needed a better roommate.
