➥ a tense custody exchange leads from one thing to another, your ex husband toji helps you deal with a brief stage of distress after your date shames you for being a divorced single mother.
prompt: a tense custody exchange turns into one accidental over night stay and old feelings resurface between you and your ex husband, toji. when you go on a date attempting to mingle with another, it goes terribly wrong and toji is the only person waiting.
warnings: MDNI mamaguro! reader, kinda angsty, smut, p in v, fingering, cursing, mating press, breeding kink, unprotected sex, spanking, angst to comfort. brief use of good girl.
authors note: i hope you guys like this word count is 7.6k
“seriously?” you murmur as toji strolls up a half hour late, megumi limp on his forearm, his tiny cheek rests on his fathers shoulder, drool dampening toji’s favorite sweatshirt.
“traffic,” he says automatically.
“you said that last weekend.” you cross you arms.
“and it was true last weekend too.”
“toji.” you say his name flatly, but your eyes are already on megumi. fast asleep, his little fist is curled up in the fabric of toji’s sweatshirt, lashes resting against pudgy cheeks, mouth slightly opened where he’s drooled all over the dark material. completely dead to the world.
you cross your arms tighter, “you were supposed to bring him back at seven.”
“it’s seven thirty.” he says.
“exactly.”
toji looks exhausted in that infuriatingly unreadable way of his—hair messy, clothes wrinkled, eyes shadowed like he hasn’t slept properly in days. there’s a tiny dinosaur sticker stuck to the sleeve next to his wrist.
probably gumi’s.
“you could’ve called.” you say.
toji shrugs one shoulder carefully so he doesn’t wake him. “phone died.”
“convenient.”
there’s a long pause before you decide to speak. “did he eat dinner?”
“yes.”
“what did he eat?” you lean against the door frame.
toji glances down at megumi automatically, expression shifting by instinct alone. softer. “he wouldn’t touch the vegetables. had noodles instead, then he stole half my fries.”
“that’s only because you let him.”
“he looked at me, what can i say?”
you roll your eyes despite yourself. “he’s three, toji. that’s all he has to do.”
“works every time.”
you can’t help the way your mouth twitches, just faintly. but toji notices.. he always does.
“give him here,” you murmur.
toji doesn’t move right away, just shifts his weight to his to his other foot and clandestinely sniffs megumi’s hair.
it’s not that he’s refusing, it just always takes a second too long when it comes to handing your son over, for the both of you.
he shifts the boy slightly in his arms, careful in a way that doesn’t match the rest of him.
“you sure?” he asks.
it’s almost mocking on the surface, almost. but there’s something quieter underneath it, as if he’s not actually challenging you—just confirming.
“unless you plan on standing in my doorway all night,” you say, already holding your hands out.
that does it for him.
toji steps forward and transfers megumi into your arms with surprising care. the boy barely stirs, only tucking his face deeper into your shoulder as soon as he recognizes the shift in warmth.
his grip on toji’s sweatshirt loosens, then, at the last second, his fingers snag the fabric again like he’s changed his mind.
toji pauses. “…he’s got a stealthy grip,” he mutters.
“i see that.”
you gently work megumi’s fingers free one by one, careful not to wake him. when you finally succeed, his hand flops against your chest and stays there, warm and heavy.
toji flexes his empty hand like he’s not sure what to do with it now.
“goodnight, ji.”
he freezes for a moment, just staring directly at you with the same eyes you were so used to seeing at the very crack of dawn. every day.
he just backs out of the apartment, turning when he’s half way through the door. “g’night” he mumbles under his breath.
toji walks out of the complex with heavy, tired footsteps that sound louder than they should in the quiet. you ease the door shut behind him; it clicks softer than usual. then you shift your weight and cross the living room, moving toward the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the space outside. from there, you get a clear view of where toji is heading.
he’s just going to his car, then straight home. it’s what you tell yourself—but there’s also no doubt in your mind that he could be seeing other women.
you sigh heavily, eyes drifting to megumi in your arms. just the mere sight of your son lifts your heavy spirits.
you take him to your bedroom and place him carefully on the bed. megumi makes the smallest sound when you lower him onto the mattress. A sleepy little huff through parted lips, brow pinching for half a second before relaxing again.
“there you go,” you whisper instinctively, smoothing the dark hair off his forehead.
he smells like outside air, baby shampoo, and faintly of grease from fast food fries. very on brand for time spent with toji.
you tug his tiny sneakers off first and line them neatly by the bed. one of his socks is halfway folded around his ankle, the knees of his little pants are dusty.
boys
your fingers pause when you notice the tiny plastic dinosaur still shoved into his jacket pocket.
you pull it free carefully, green.. missing one eye, megumi’s favorite toy lately.
the corner of your mouth softens, then your eyes drift to the window without meaning to. the parking lot below is still visible between the slats of the blinds.
toji’s car hasn’t moved. you stare for a second, then two more.
megumi shifts behind you, turning onto his side with a sleepy mumble, and your force yourself away from the window long enough to pull the blanket over him properly.
maybe he’s checking something on his phone..
maybe he’s fallen asleep,
or maybe -
your jaw tightens slightly, you walk back toward the window anyway. the car is still there, engine off, dark inside.
something unsettled curls low in your stomach before annoyance quickly smothers it.
you slip your feet back into your house shoes and quietly leave the bedroom, shutting the door behind you. the apartment is dim except for the kitchen light you forgot to turn off earlier.
by the time you make it downstairs, irritation has already rebuilt itself nicely.
the night air hits cool against your skin as you step outside the complex. toji’s car windows are fogged faintly at the corners.
you march over and rap your knuckles sharply against the driver’s side glass.
a beat later, there’s movement inside. toji startles awake instantly.
he blinks once, processing, then rolls down the window slowly. “hey..” he says, voice rough with sleep.
you stare at him; his seat is pushed back farther than usual. one arm still rests over his stomach. there’s a crumpled kids napkin stuck to his shoulder.
“you fell asleep.”
he rubs a hand over his face. “no shit..”
you roll your eyes because of course you do. who is he talking to? “you were gonna sleep in the parking lot?”
“to be fair,” he mutters, looking you up and down.. “wasn’t really planned..”
“you should’ve gone home.” you lie.
there’s a pause, then, he says, quieter this time, “yeah.”
your irritation flickers strangely at the rims.
up close, he looks worse than before. exhaustion sits heavy beneath his eyes now that he’s not actively holding himself upright through it. his hair is flattened awkwardly on one side from the headrest.
there’s a long silence before you speak again. “when’s the last time you slept properly?”
toji gives you that one look that that immediately answers the question.
you exhale through your nose, “not good.”
“well i’m alive aren’t i?”
“barely.”
his mouth twitches faintly at that, too tired for a real one.
you cross your arms tighter against the cold. “you can’t drive like this.”
“i’ve driven worse.”
“that’s not comforting, toji.”
somewhere nearby, a gate rattles softly in the wind. then toji leans his head back against the seat and shuts his eyes for just a second too long.
that decides it. “come upstairs.”
his eyes open again immediately. “what?”
“you heard me.”
“you don’t have to do that.”
“i know.”
he studies you carefully, like he’s trying to figure out if this is a trap.
“you can sleep on the couch.” you add flatly. “don’t make it weird.”
a quiet scoff leaves him “wasn’t planning to.”
“good.”
neither of you moves. then, eventually, toji sighs low under his breath and reaches for the keys.
“kay.” he murmurs.
the apartment is quiet again by the time midnight settles in.
the kind of quiet that makes every little sound feel louder than it is—the hum of the refrigerator, the echoing squeak of the smoke detectors, the soft rustle of sheets every time megumi moves in your bed.
toji is asleep on the couch. at least, you think he might be.
you tried not to look at him when you handed him the spare blanket earlier. tried not to notice the way his eyes followed you around the kitchen while you filled a glass of water for him. tried not to notice the way he fit back into this apartment despite everything.
as if he’d never left at all.
you’re halfway asleep yourself when thirst finally drags you out of bed.
the apartment floor is cool against your feet as you shuffle toward the kitchen. the hallway light is off, leaving only the dim glow over the stove illuminating the room.
and there he is.
of course, toji stands shirtless by the sink, one hand braced against the counter while he drinks straight from a glass. his sweatpants hang low on his hips, dark hair messy from the little sleep he got when he’d just arrived.
you stop short. he glances over.
neither of you says anything until- “you own shirts,” you mutter.
“ta sleep? not really.”
your eyes betray you for exactly one second before flicking away from his chest.
toji obviously notices. the corner of his mouth pulls slightly as he sets the glass down. “thought you were asleep.”
“so did i.” you move around him toward the cabinet, deliberately leaving space between your bodies. the apartment suddenly feels much smaller than it did an hour ago.
you grab a cup, but toji won’t move out of the way.
“you’re crowding the sink.” you say categorically.
“you came to my sink.”
“it’s my apartment.”
“mm.”
the sound vibrates low in his throat, lazy and amused. so annoying.
you fill your cup anyway, hyperaware of him standing beside you. heat rolls off his skin in waves, warm and familiar enough to make your chest tighten unexpectedly.
you hate that you still remember things like this. the shape of him in low light, the scar near his shoulder,
…the way he always smells faintly like clean soap and cigarettes no matter how hard he tries to cover one with the other.
“you’re staring.” toji says quietly.
your grip tightens around the cup. “you wish”
“hm.”
you finally look at him then, mostly because you’re irritated enough to. he’s already looking directly at you.
sleep softened him a little, took the sharpness out of his posture. but his eyes are still heavy in that same unreadable way that always makes you feel like he knows more than he says.
the tension shifts subtly but immediately
toji’s gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your eyes. your stomach flips hard enough to annoy you.
“don’t.” you say softly.
“didn’t say anythin.”
“you don’t have to.”
neither of you move as the silence drags on, the air feeling thick suddenly. your gaze drops to the floor, your mind flooding with thoughts of when weekends meant everything to all three of you—you, toji, and megumi.
times when weekends were more than curt, deadpan conversations and custody exchanges..
back when weekends meant staying up too late with laughter echoing through the apartment, some animated movie forgotten in the background as megumi drifted off halfway through your marathons—leaving you and toji slipping away together in hushed, stolen moments.
your thoughts unravel before they can go any further as from down the hallway, a tiny, sleepy voice sounds; “mama?”
you step back immediately like someone snapped a wire between you. toji looks away first this time.
“i got him,” he says, already pushing off the counter.
“toji-”
but he’s already moving down the hallway barefoot and half asleep, snatching lazily at the back of his neck as he disappears toward your bedroom.
and against your better judgment, you listen.
a few seconds later you hear megumi’s tiny relieved whine followed by toji’s low, gravelly murmur.
“yeah, yeah.. m’here.”
you linger in the kitchen longer than you intend to. your water has gone untouched in your hands, condensation dampening your fingers while the sound of megumi’s sleepy babbling drifts faintly down the hallway.
toji answers him in low hums instead of actual words.
‘mm.’
‘really..”
‘did she?’
the familiar cadence of his voice pulls at something deep in your chest before you can stop it.
you tell yourself you’re only checking to make sure megumi settles back down. that’s all.
the bedroom door is cracked open slightly when you reach it. warm lamp light splits through the gap in a thin stripe across the floor.
you peek inside quietly
and your heart betrays you instantly.
megumi is sprawled across the middle of the bed sideways, blanket kicked completely off his legs. toji’s laying beside him on top of the comforter, one arm tucked behind his head while the other rests over megumi’s tiny stomach to keep him from rolling off the mattress.
megumi’s poking aggressively at toji’s cheek.
“an’ then mama said no more candy.” he explains very seriously.
“cruel,” toji murmurs.
megumi nods solemnly. “very cruel.”
“oh, to survive such hardship at your age.” toji sighs dramatically.
a sleepy giggle bubbles out of megumi.
your chest aches. toji looks different like this. not sharp edged or guarded. just tired and warm and soft around megumi in a way barely anyone ever gets to see.
megumi continues rambling without pause, words slurring together from exhaustion.
“and at school yesterday ‘michi spilled glue an’ mrs. tanama said bad choices an’ then…” he yawns so hard his whole face squishes “mama makes the dinosaur voices wrong.”
toji’s eyebrow lifts. “she does? do tell.”
you narrow your eyes from the doorway automatically.
megumi nods with the seriousness of a tiny judge. “t-rex not sound like that.”
“huh.” toji huffs at his son’s broken way of speech, adjusting his position in bed so that he can finally sleep..
you should walk away now, but instead you lean slightly against the doorway. “oh, and you’re apparently a dinosaur expert now?”
megumi’s sleepy face lights up immediately. “mama!”
before you can react, he’s pushing himself upright on wobbling little arms. then he points decisively at the empty space beside toji.
“get in, mommy.”
you blink. “gumi-”
“family cuddle.”
the words hit the room softly. toji goes still for just a second.
megumi, oblivious, pats the mattress harder. “come on!”
you cross your arms automatically. “you should be sleeping.”
“you too.” megumi counters instantly.
who taught him to clock you like that?
toji snorts quietly under his breath, so you shoot him a look that says ‘don’t encourage him.’
megumi is still waiting expectantly, eyes barely open now but stubborn enough to hold out forever if necessary.
you hesitate, again.
maybe that hesitation is your first mistake because megumi is not happy. his tiny mouth turns downward. “mama..”
toji exhales softly through his nose, eyes fixed on the ceiling now like he’s deliberately staying out of it.
but then, he speaks quietly. “he won’t sleep if he thinks you’re leaving”
your eyes flicker towards him and his expression stays unreadable.
coward.
you sigh heavily like this is a massive inconvenience to you personally. “fine. move over.”
megumi cheers weakly like he just won the lottery and needs to be quiet.
toji shifts without complaint, moving closer to the edge of the bed. the mattress dips under your weight as you climb in carefully beside megumi, keeping what you tell yourself is a reasonable amount of distance between you and toji.
megumi destroys that plan promptly.
the second you settle, he flips dramatically across both of you like a tiny exhausted bridge.
one hand lands on your shoulder, the other grabs a fistful of toji’s hair. “there.” he murmurs proudly.
toji looks over megumi’s messy hair toward you.
“this is your fault.” you whisper.
“mhmm.” he sounds too tired to argue properly.
megumi squirms happily between you both for another minute, all soft kneading hands and loud giggles as both of his parents’ warmth engulfs him.
he mumbles half finished stories that slowly stop making sense. “an’ then dinosaur got school too momma..”
“yeah?” toji murmurs, eyes closed.
“mmhm…” his words get slower and softer until they finally dissolve into sleepy breathing.
megumi’s cheek is smushed against your shoulder now, one tiny foot thrown over toji’s arm.
you stare up at the ceiling while toji still faces megumi. the room feels unbearably warm.
“he missed you this weekend.” toji mutters.
your throat tightens a little so you glance over. toji’s still looking at your son when he says it.
“kept askin’ when you’d come home.”
home.. not your apartment or daddy’s place. but just home. you swallow carefully. “he likes being with you. it’s all he can talk about for days after the weekends.”
he finally looks at you, quiet. “yeah.” he says softly.
there’s something dangerously gentle in his face now. sleep worn and open in a way you haven’t seen in a long time.
it makes your chest hurt. megumi shifts between you both with a tiny sleepy sigh.
toji looks down automatically and smooths a hand through his son’s hair.
before you can stop yourself, your eyes soften too. toji notices, of course he does, he always does.
the next morning starts slowly. warm sunlight slips through the blinds in pale stripes, catching lint and dust in the air while megumi sleeps face down between you and toji like he personally fought a war overnight.
one of his legs is still thrown over toji, this time on his stomach.
toji’s awake first, you notice because every time you open your eyes, he’s already looking at you. not even subtly.
“creepy,” you mumble sleepily.
“morning to you too.”
megumi snores softly into your pillow. you push yourself upright carefully, stretching your arms over your head before remembering exactly who’s still laying beside you.
toji watches the realization hit your face and his mouth twitches.
“don’t even start.”
“i wasn’t gonna say anything.” he protests.
“you keep thinking out loud! without even saying anything.” you yell-whisper.
“probably”
you roll your eyes and start climbing out of bed. “you’re staying today.”
that catches his attention at once. “to babysit?”
you pause halfway to the door. “you say that as if he isn’t your child.”
“only to survive this attitude.”
“hm.”
he props himself up on one elbow now, dark hair slicking down in every direction. “where’re you going?”
his biceps flex slightly in his current position, eyes focused completely on you.
you busy yourself fixing the blanket around megumi. “out.”
“with?”
“someone.” toji goes quiet, not dramatically or angrily, just still.
you can feel his eyes on your back when you turn away. “you got a date?”
you shrug your shoulder casually, too casually. “second one.”
“with the same guy?” he asks, body tensing further because second sounds worse somehow.
“yes, toji.”
he lays back against the headboard slowly. “second,” he repeats, “must be serious. huh?”
“it’s not a crime.”
“didn’t say that it was.”
“have you been seeing anyone?”
toji scratches lazily at his jaw and says, “yeah. of course.”
your stomach twists despite yourself. “oh.” you hate how small it sounds.
his eyes stay on you carefully now, watching every little reaction like he’s trying not to and failing anyway. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“nothing.” you smooth megumi’s hair back a little too precisely. “you’re allowed to.”
“yeah, who said i wasn’t?” toji’s gaze narrows slightly. “you askin’ because you care or because you’re nosy?”
morning light makes him softer around the edges again, sleep still heavy in his face, megumi’s leg resting across his stomach like your son claimed him sometime during the night and never let go.
there’s a faded crease on his cheek from the pillow. you remember waking up next to that face for years.
that’s the problem.
“i was making conversation,” you say coolly.
“bullshit.”
“watch your language in front of him.”
“he’s knocked out anyway.” he murmurs, but complies.
“she worked at the gym.” he says finally.
you blink. “hm?”
“the woman.” his tone stays causal, but barely. “you asked if i was seeing anyone.”
you immediately regret asking. “worked,” you repeat lightly, because apparently your mouth enjoys self sabotage.
his eyes flick toward yours. “don’t start with that.”
you stay quiet and move around the room now, digging in your closet in search of a dress. you pull a pretty red one, slightly revealing—nothing too much, but nothing too little.
“i just need you to stay here a little longer tonight.”
“how long?”
“not sure yet.”
“mm.”
you risk glancing over finally. his expression gives you absolutely nothing which annoys you more than if he looked irritated.
“you don’t have to sound so excited for me.” you joke, but only silence follows.
toji stares at you before scoffing slightly. “i’m just thinking.”
“about?”
he just stares at you. you know he’s not gonna answer.. so you head for the doorway before he can say anything.
“d’you like him?”
“that’s kind of the point of dates,” you answer after a second, aiming for lightness and missing by a mile.
toji exhales once through his nose. “didn’t answer the question.”
you glance back then.
he’s still half buried in your bed, hair a mess, one massive hand absently resting over megumi’s leg where it’s thrown across his stomach. morning sunlight cuts across his face in warm stripes, catching the tiredness still lingering beneath his eyes.
you look away first. “he’s nice. easy to be around”
toji was all late night whispered arguments in the kitchen, hidden emotions, tense car rides at two am, and wet, breathed apologies in your neck. he was anything but easy.
and yet there was still warmth buried under all that steel.
whether it be a hand resting at the small of your back in crowded rooms, his jacket dropped over your shoulder before you could even say you were cold..
he’s quiet for a second, just watching you too closely. “sounds boring.”
your eyes roll before you can stop them.
“maybe he is nice, if he’s letting you go on a date wearing that.”
your jaw drops slightly before you catch it. “it’s not even that bad. i’ve worn several dresses just like this one.”
“trust me, i know.” he murmurs before reverting his gaze to megumi.
an awkward silence presses into the room, the only sound being megumi’s soft breathing and your quiet hands rummaging through your makeup bag, pulling the products you need from it and walking to the bathroom with your dress and towel in hand.
“i’ll stay then. don’t be out too long, woman.” he adds a pinch of humor, it falls flat.
“don’t wait up.” you tease back despite yourself, shutting the bathroom door just to stare at your reflection in the mirror.
you twist the shower handle harder than needed, steam beginning to curl upward almost instantly. the apartment plumbing groans softly in protest somewhere in the walls while you set your things down along the counter.
you busy yourself quickly, peeling off your clothes and stepping beneath the hot water before your brain can continue being annoying about it.
warmth rushes over your skin immediately, easing some of the tension sitting stubbornly between your shoulders.
the bathroom feels warm, and by the time you get out of the shower, the mirror is fogged completely.
you wrap your towel around yourself and wipe a clear streak through the steam with the side of your hand. your reflection stares back immediately, hair damp, cheeks warmer than they should be, focus annoyingly divided.
you lean closer to apply skincare mechanically, then makeup, forcing your focus elsewhere.
concealer, mascara, dark soft blush. you even add a touch of eyeshadow, eyeliner too, matching the slightly dark undertones of your dress.
you look stunning, you are stunning.
you slip out of the bathroom slowly, hands braced against the door, guiding it shut. megumi is awake now, sitting cross legged over toji’s abdomen.
the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut shifts both of their attention towards you. megumi’s face lights up with a smile the minute he sees you.
“mama beautiful!” he giggles, bouncing slightly on toji’s abs, he stands suddenly and rushes to the edge of the bed, you step forward instinctively to catch him before he falls.
“thank you my love” you coo, kissing his little chubby cheeks.
“mama where’r you goin’?”
“mommy’s going out with a friend, gumi.” you smile, bouncing him in your arms slightly but playfully. megumi wraps his arms around your neck and kisses your cheeks now, mimicking what you’d done before.
toji watched with angering soft eyes, scratching his abs absently, pants tighter in the way that only tells you he’s been staring at your dress.
you avert your gaze to megumi as he plays with your hair. “mommy?” he whispers, loud.
“yes, baby?” you whisper back.
“daddy is looking so much at you mama”
a laugh bubbles out of you before you can stop it, toji stands briskly, moving to take megumi from your arms.
“alright, that’s enough. you need to get ready for your extra day with daddy.” he tickles megumi’s side softly and holds him in his forearm.
his eyes skim your chest one more time before he takes gumi to your bathroom and preps their toothbrushes.
you can’t help the smile that keeps forming, you grab your purse and make a stop for the salon before your date.
the smell reaches you before you walk in—acetone, hairspray, the soft steam of a hot comb, and nail polish.
a few minutes later, you’re seated at one of the manicure stations with your hands soaking in warm water while the nail tech eyes your dress approvingly.
“ooo,” she grins knowingly, “you got a date tonight?”
your mouth twitches. “something like that.”
mmhm,” she hums in the universal tone of women who absolutely do not believe vague answers. “what color we thinking?”
you glance down at the rows of polish bottles lined up beneath the counter. reds, pinks, glossy nudes, glittery champagne.
your eyes settle on a deep wine-red polish with a subtle shimmer under the light.
“that one.”
“pretty,” she says immediately. “dangerous color.”
you snort softly. “is it?”
“oh definitely. sweetheart, men lose all sense over dark red nails.”
the irony nearly makes you laugh out loud.
because somewhere back at your apartment is a six foot something problem with dark hair and tired eyes who’d stared at your dress this morning like it personally offended him.
───
the date starts fine, perfect, even. food comes fast and delicious, your date is polite, well dressed—funny enough to keep conversations going without effort.
the restaurant is nice too. soft lighting, expensive wine tiny portions pretending to be art. for the first hour, you almost relax.
somehow the conversation shifts, harmlessly so, that’s just how it starts. family, past relationships, marriage.
your fingers tighten instinctively around the stem of your glass. the last thing you are ashamed of is having a son. megumi is your favorite person, your reason to slip out of bed in the morning.
the same way toji once was.
but going on dates and trying to be with different people, that’s where it becomes a problem. single mothers will never be seen for the work they put into raising their children independently
you decide honesty is better now than later or never. “i was married before,” you admit carefully. “i have a son.”
the man pauses, not long but long enough. “oh,” he says. and immediately, something changes, you know that tone. you’ve learned to recognize it instantly.
‘oh’ can mean a hundred things… but this one means disappointment.
“he’s young?” he asks.
“four.”
your date nods, slowly leaning back in his chair. “that’s… a lot.”
your chest cools slightly. “he’s worth everything. i love him very deeply.”
“sure” he says quickly. “i just mean, personally i don’t think i could date someone with that much baggage.”
the word slips out from his mouth too easily. baggage. you just stare at him and he keeps going anyway.
“especially with the divorce thing too.”
your fingers twitch around the glass, fighting to not slap this man across the face.
“divorce says a lot about women.” he says casually. “no offense.”
you swallow hard. “i don’t think it’s that simple. it can say a lot about men as well.”
“maybe not,” he shrugs. “but i think children deserve stable homes, two parents together. you know? people give up too easily now.”
something sharp twists low in your chest, suddenly you feel exhausted. the restaurant noise blurs around you. the man keeps talking, you’ve already stopped listening.
by the time you get home, your makeup feels wrong and heavy on your skin. your heels ache, your chest aches even worse.
the apartment is quiet when you step inside, dark except for the hallway light. megumi’s already asleep, next to toji, who’s still awake on the couch. of course he is.
he’s sitting in gray sweatpants and a black shirt this time, one arm stretched across the back cushions while muted tv light flickers across his face.
a half eaten bowl of popcorn sits abandoned between them both, his eyes lift immediately when the door opens.
the second he sees you, his posture changes, subtly, sharply… you look away before he can ask anything. “i’m home,” you murmur uselessly.
then you head straight for your room, fast. you barely get the door shut before your throat tightens painfully. god. you feel stupid, humiliated.
your fingers fumble clumsily at the zipper of your dress, it catches halfway down your back.
“are you—“ your hands shake harder. the stupid zipper won’t move.
a knock sounds gently against the bedroom door, you freeze. “..yeah?”
the door opens slowly, toji steps inside quietly. one look at your face and his expression darkens immediately. not angry at you, never that. just angry.
you turn away quickly. “i’m fine.”
“mm.” his voice stays low. “dress says otherwise.”
you huff out something halfway between a laugh and a broken breath. the zipper catches again.
toji watches silently for a second before stepping closer. “lemme help.”
your hands fall away automatically, he moves behind you carefully. warm fingers brush the bare skin of your back as he finds the zipper.
the contact alone nearly undoes you. toji pauses slightly, probably feeling you tense. then, slower this time, gentler, he eases the zipper down inch by inch until the tightness around your ribs finally loosens.
the dress slips slightly loose on your shoulders, neither of you speaks. toji’s hands rest briefly near your waist. “what happened?” he asks quietly.
you stare at your reflection in the mirror in front of you. “at dinner i told him i was divorced. and a mother.”
toji’s jaw tightens immediately. “and?”
“and apparently that makes me damaged goods.”
the words sound uglier out loud, toji goes very still behind you. “he said that?”
“basically .”
silence follows for a brief moment until toji speaks again. “he’s stupid.”
your eyes burn instantly. “i try so hard to balance both my own life and megumi’s. i just wanted something good.”
“you don’t have to do that anymore, i mean it.” his voice is rougher now, certain.
you finally turn slightly toward him. “toji, he looked at me as if-” your throat tightens again. “as if having megumi ruined me somehow.”
toji takes personal offense to that. his eyes widening slightly before calming down again. “he’s a fucking idiot.” he says flatly.
you shake your head quickly, embarrassed by the tears threatening now. “i shouldn’t even care.”
“but you do.”
you look down “…mhm.”
the room goes quiet, and toji reaches up slowly. his knuckles brush beneath your eye before a tear can fall properly.
the touch is impossibly gentle. “listen to me,” he murmurs.
your breath catches.
“there’s nothing wrong with you.” his thumb brushes your cheek softly. “y’hear me?”
your heart hammers against your ribs violently because you believe him. that’s the problem, toji’s eyes drop briefly to your mouth.
then back up again, you should step away.
instead you whisper, “toji…”
he exhales slowly through his nose like he’s holding himself back by force. he can’t take it… the way you’re looking at him, basically naked with just a loose dress on—warmth spread across your face in different hues.. he pulls you against him, eyes locked on your lips. “tell me no.”
that’s the second problem, you could never say no to toji. so your fingers curl lightly into the front of his shirt instead. and that’s all it takes.
he kisses you carefully at first. then your hand tightens against his chest and something in him snaps softly loose.
his mouth moves against yours deeper this time, warm and familiar enough to make your knees weaken instantly.
you remember this. the way he kisses like he’s starving. like he’s trying not to be.
one of his hands slides carefully to your waist while the other cups your jaw gently, thumb brushing your cheek again.
you kiss him back harder before you can think better of it.
a quiet sound leaves his throat, your forehead bumps his when you finally pull apart for air, both of you breathing unevenly.
toji keeps his eyes closed for one second longer than necessary, then opens them slowly. he’s still close enough that his breath warms your lips.
he turns you around carefully, kissing your shoulders and urging you onto the bed, he sits beside you, his mouth finding yours again slower this time as if he’s relearning something he thought he lost.
your fingers slide into his hair instinctively, damp strands catching between them as he shifts closer on the bed. the mattress dips under his weight, one of his hands braces beside your hip while the other remains against your leg, steady and warm.
the room feels impossibly quiet around you both.
toji kisses the corner of your mouth once, then your jaw, “you smell nice,” he says against your cheek.
you let out the smallest laugh. “thank you. i think it was the salon. smelt like lavender lotion.”
“still counts.”
his hand slides slightly higher along your thigh before stopping deliberately, giving you every chance to pull away if you want to.
your forehead falls briefly against his shoulder, exhaustion finally catching up to you now that someone else is holding the weight for a second.
toji goes still immediately.
the teasing disappears from him like a switch flipped. his hand smooths once up your back.
“tired?” he asks quietly.
“mhm..”
“you should’ve called me.”
your eyes close briefly. “ji…”
“i mean it.” his voice stays low and even. “woulda picked you up.”
you pull back just enough to look at him, and his expression softens in that dangerous way again—open, sleepy, honest around the edges.
his hand slides carefully to your waist and he gently guides you forward until you’re laying across the mattress properly.
“c’mere.”
“toji-”
“relax,” he says quietly, already tugging the comforter out from underneath you both. “you look like you’re gonna pass out sitting up.”
you narrow your eyes suspiciously, but let him maneuver you anyway.
he turns you carefully onto your hands and knees only long enough to pull the tangled blanket smooth beneath you, large hands steady at your hips so you don’t lose balance.
when he’s done moving to the closet and placing one of megumi’s useless baby blankets in there, he turns to see you still in that distracting position, voluptuous lips glossy and swollen, hair ruffled from his hands being tangled in them earlier…
body rocking back and forth slightly, just craving his attention. he groans softly, moving too quick, shoving your dress off eagerly.
he tosses your dress aside fully, cupping your ass cheeks where they’re presented to him on the bed, round and fat. slowly, he traces his callused thumb along your skin, making you shiver.
his shirt is pulled off, revealing a collection of faded scars that always seemed to catch your attention.
you press back into his hand, needing toji’s rough attention as your breath catches.
toji smirks, leaning close to bite a trembling patch above your hip.
he spreads them, breath hitching sharp, shoving your panties aside to spit a nasty, clear string right between your cheeks, watching it drip down as his other hand tightens possessively around your waist.
you whimper when he slides his thumb lower, toying with your slick as his grip grows firmer.
“toji—“ you whine, back arching further as he leans forward, lips brushing your spine while his hot breath sends sharp tingles across your sensitized skin.
“good girl, arching so good f’me…” he slaps one cheek sharply, nails digging into the plump fat.
you jolt under the sting, a ragged moan slipping out, but his hand doesn’t falter as he nudges your legs wider.
he flips you suddenly, large hands cupping your breasts with fervor, his knee pushes between your legs and spreads them wide, creating a space for him to lean over you.
he unclips then tugs your bra off and takes one nipple between both his thumb and index fingers, lips sealing around the other.
he wastes no time, sucking firm and twisting, pressure that sends heat straight between your thighs, making your hips arch instinctively.
he grunts low when your fingers curl in his hair, his own hand flying down to your soaked panties.
he slides his fingers under the thin fabric, teasing your entrance with slow, deliberate strokes as his mouth keeps working your nipple.
you writhe beneath him, small pants escaping your airway. “please toji!”
your words are cut off by his own lips, tongue fighting its way into your mouth. “shh, you want our son to hear you?”
you shake your head frantically, fingers curling into his shoulders—manicured nails shaping round crescents where they squeeze.
“then be quiet f’me, hm?” toji circles your clit in firm, tight circles. a sudden gasp escapes your throat, earning you a sharp slap to your fat, dripping cunt.
you whimper quietly now, dragging your words and slapping lightly at his flexed shoulders. “jiiii!—ah!”
“you want this dick?” he spits, “talk to me, baby.” his voice softens slightly, two fingers sliding into you smooth and immediately gathering your slick.
“mmmm! mhmmm— i want it toji… i want it so bad! please.”
“let me feel this sweet pussy first, mkay?” he curls his fingers in search for your sweet spot.
the minute your fingers tighten around his shoulders and you catch your lips in between your teeth, he pumps his fingers without stop, your legs suddenly feeling weightless and feet hovering off the bed.
your back arches beautifully, pulling a deep groan out of toji, his other hand flies back to your nipple.
he can feel you—and hear you—losing your mind on his fingers, incoherent babbles and weak hands telling what your mouth can’t seem to form.
his fingers halt cruelly when he feels your legs trembling, spongy walls fluttering around him, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean of your juices.
you whine louder, unable to keep yourself together, your thighs slide against one another, craving any kind of friction.
he palms himself, watching you squirm and beg for.. anything.
you hook your fingers around his waistband, tugging it weakly. he looks down at your hand and then down at your face..
“please, ji.. please, baby?”
he tugs his sweat pants off briskly, cock bouncing out thick and hard, pulsing with need. he spreads your fat labia, teasing your entrance with his chubby tip.
“fuck, i missed this pussy.”
he pins your wrists above your head with one hand, looking down at your face.
“look at my while i fuck you.”
you comply because of course you do, who doesn’t wanna look at toji’s face when he’s reveling in pleasure?
he lines up with your entrance, watching you whimper under his dark eyes, “mmmm!” you whine, hips bucking desperate.
he thrusts into you roughly, filling you completely. “f-fuuuck, i forgot how tight you are.” he starts moving at a punishing pace, other hand squeezing your breast.
”ngh! oh my— ah! tojiii!”
the noises he manages to pull out of you are nasty. you can feel every inch of him stretching your tight walls, he smirks at your moans, grabbing your chin and gently making you face him again, a contradiction to his usual rough treatment.
he thrusts harder, aiming for your sweet spot before suddenly folding you in half, knees against your chest in a gratifying mating press.
you gasp, eyes widening for a fraction of a second, pussy sucking him in every time he angles himself right where you need him.
“this is perfect for breeding you again. i’m gonna stuff this pussy til’ it takes.” he snaps his hips forward with each word, balls slapping against your ass, the sounds echoing in the hot, sex scented room.
“ima— mmm’gonna fill you up until you’re pregnant with my child again. you’ll be so round and full with my seed.” he pounds into you mercilessly, determined to make good on his promise.
your moans echo in the room, desperate. your eyes roll back slightly at the intensity of his pleasure.
the sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, mixed with his deep grunts.
he swallows your whimpers in a deep kiss, hips driving into you. his hips stutter as he feels his orgasm approaching. “m’close.. gonna fill your womb”
his words are what really make you lose it, whole body trembling around his heavy cock, pussy pulsing and gripping his veiny dick.
he watches your bouncing tits. “so beautiful, even better when they’re full of milk.” his hands squeeze them again, remembering the last time you breastfed.
“you’re such a good mother. so nurturing, i wan’ see you like that again.”
his thrusts become erratic, cock twitching inside you. your moans are loud, raspy and desperate at this point.
your juices keep dripping out of you and drenching his abs and pelvis, but he won’t stop until he fills you with everything he’s got.
with one last deep thrust, tip kissing your cervix, he releases ropes of thick cum with a guttural moan, releasing all his seed into you.
“take it, take every drop.” he whispers breathlessly.
you nod, it’s all you can manage, completely fucked out and exhausted under your ex husband.
he stays connected, ensuring nothing leaks out. he collapses on top of you, his cock softening but staying inside.
“you’ll give me another son, right?”
“i’ve always wanted a daughter.” you whisper, fingers twisting his hair.
he brushes yours with his thick fingers, thumb sliding against your cheek gently. “mm, maybe.”
he pulls out carefully, one hand cupping your mound to keep his seed inside you.
you whimper at the sensitivity and sudden pressure that comes upon you.
“you’re never gonna see another man again, hm?”
“no… i only want you. only love you.”
“good girl… i love you.” he kisses your temple carefully, hands forgetting everything but your tired body.
he holds you against him, breathing slower as your heartbeat steadies, warmth spreading between both of you as exhaustion settles in.
night wraps gently around the two of you, the silence filling the room. suddenly, the baby monitor on the nightstand crackles, breaking the peaceful haze.
you both freeze, listening as a small, urgent cry rises from the monitor. he sits up groggily, grabbing his boxers before heading down the hall to the living room.
you slip into your nightgown and clean what you can from the bed, adjusting the comforter over the bedsheets and grabbing a few more blankets, you tie your hair up in a loose pony tail, waiting for toji to come back, with gumi.
a few seconds later, he returns holding a swaddled megumi, who’s blinking wide eyed under the lamplight.
“mommy!” he exclames, tears drying as he’s held close by his father.
megumi slowly settles in toji’s arms, his small fingers still gripping his father’s bare shoulder before loosening bit by bit. his breathing is uneven at first, then starts to calm as the warmth sinks in
you sit beside them and brush megumi’s hair back. “it’s okay. you’re safe now,” you whisper softly
he blinks up at you for a moment, still half-asleep, then leans fully into toji’s chest again, cheek pressed against skin as his body relaxes
toji glances at you, wordlessly offering megumi to your arms as if inviting you to soothe him.
“come here, gummy.” you whisper, holding him against you and rubbing his ribs soft.
toji wraps both arms around your waist, head snaking over your shoulder and pecking your temple, then megumi’s.
you are settled into bed a few seconds later, megumi asleep between you and toji, toji’s eyes never leave your face.
you slowly realize that this is exactly what you’ve needed. toji’s hand finds yours beneath the blanket, squeezing tenderly as if anchoring you both.
all you need is your little family right here in this moment, safe beneath the dim lamplight, together again.
idk baby megumi loves dinosaurs and his mom
toji would never be like this im straight fantasizing but that’s the point i hope you like it
You and Tsireya had always been you and Tsireya.
From the day you taught her how to properly greet a shy ilu calf, to the nights you stayed up braiding each other’s hair while the rest of the village slept. She called you tsmuke (sister) with such easy affection that you’d convinced yourself it was enough. That the way your heart stuttered when her hand lingered on your waist during swims was just… best friend things.
Until Lo’ak arrived with his family.
He was loud and curious and different, and suddenly Tsireya was spending mornings showing him the reef, afternoons teaching him sign, evenings laughing at his terrible jokes.
You tried not to mind.
You really did. But every time he touched her arm or called her “Ree-ya” in that easy Sully drawl, something sharp twisted behind your ribs.
One evening the village gathered for a communal meal. Bioluminescent plankton lit the water below like scattered stars. You were weaving a new armband—something simple, blue and white shells you’d collected because they reminded you of her eyes—when Lo’ak dropped down beside you.
“Hey! You’re the one who rides the fastest ilu, right? Tsireya told me.” He grinned, all bright teeth and genuine interest. “Wanna show me some tricks tomorrow? I keep wiping out.”
You opened your mouth to answer, but Tsireya appeared like a current, sliding gracefully between you two. Her hand settled on your shoulder, a little firmer than usual.
“She’s busy tomorrow,” Tsireya said sweetly, though her tail flicked once. “We already promised to visit the southern cove, didn’t we, yawne?”
You blinked. She hadn’t called you that in weeks.
Lo’ak raised an eyebrow but shrugged good-naturedly. “No worries. Another time?” He gave you a wink before wandering off toward Neteyam.
Tsireya didn’t remove her hand. Instead her thumb brushed the stripe on your shoulder, slow and absent. “He’s… persistent.”
“He’s nice,” you said carefully, keeping your eyes on the half finished armband. “And he clearly likes you.”
A beat of silence. Then, softer: “He’s a friend. Like you.”
The words landed heavier than she probably meant them to. Like you. Just a friend.
The next day you went to the cove anyway. Just the two of you, like old times. But the air felt different. Tsireya kept glancing at you while you fed the ilu, her usual easy chatter quieter.
“You’ve been distant,” she said finally, floating beside you in the calm water. “Since Lo’ak and his family came. Did I do something?”
You laughed, but it sounded hollow. “No. I’m happy you’re making new friends. Really.”
She tilted her head, those beautiful teal eyes searching your face. “Then why do you look at me like that when he’s around?”
“Like what?”
“Like it hurts.”
Your throat tightened. You turned away, pretending to adjust your breathing mask. “It doesn’t matter, Rey. You see me as a friend. That’s… that’s fine.”
The water rippled as she moved closer. Her hand caught your wrist, turning you back to her. “I do see you as my friend. My closest. My favorite person in the whole ocean.” Her voice dropped. “But lately… when I see Lo’ak trying to make you laugh, or when he looks at you like he wants to court you—”
“Wait. He what?”
Tsireya’s ears pinned back. A soft flush colored the base of her neck. “He asked me yesterday if you were… spoken for. I told him you were. I didn’t even think about it. The words just came out.”
Your heart slammed against your ribs. “Why?”
“Because the thought of him courting you made me want to drag you to the deepest part of the reef where no one else could find us.” She laughed shakily, embarrassed. “I’ve never felt that before. Not about anyone. I thought… I thought it was just protectiveness. But i don’t know.”
She drifted even closer until your tails brushed underwater.
“I see you. Not as just my best friend. Not anymore.” Her forehead pressed gently to yours, the Metkayina greeting turned intimate. “I see you. Your smile when the tulkun sing. The way you hum when you’re braiding. How safe I feel when your hand is in mine. I see all of it… and I want all of it to be mine.”
The confession hung between you like a fragile shell. For a moment you could only stare, afraid the current would sweep it away.
Then you kissed her.
It was clumsy at first—salt water and nerves—but Tsireya melted into it instantly, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other sliding to your waist like she’d been waiting lifetimes to hold you this way. When you pulled apart, she was smiling so wide her dimples showed.
“I was scared you only saw me as a friend too,” you whispered against her lips.
She shook her head, curls brushing your cheek. “Never again. You’re my yawne. My everything.”
Later that night Lo’ak found you both sitting close on the platform, your new armband now around Tsireya’s wrist instead. He paused, took in the way her head rested on your shoulder, the way your fingers were laced tight.
A slow, knowing grin spread across his face. “Ah. Got it.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Message received...”
Tsireya laughed softly and pressed a kiss to your hand, right there in front of him. “Good choice.”
Lo’ak just chuckled and walked away, muttering something about “I’m never getting a girlfriend.”
You stayed there long after the village quieted, wrapped in each other under the glowing sky, the ocean humming its approval below.
prompt: since your daughter has grown, a sudden space between her and Neteyam has broadened, and he struggles to understand it.
warnings: fluff, dad!neteyam, aged up characters, kinda suggestive (?), a little angsty
wc: 1.2k
notes: this was requested! thank you for the idea, i hope this meets your standards loll
There was once a time, a time when your daughter clinged to Neteyam like a lifeline, as if he were the only solace she knew.
A time when she called for him and only sometimes for you, but then again, that was when she was just a baby.
Now, at six years old, things have changed.
He sits behind her, washing her unbraided hair, fingers careful, separating and working through each small knot, each trace of sand and dirt gathered from the day.
Your daughter, dramatic as ever, jerks away more than once, protesting that he’s being too rough, that he’s not careful enough.
Neteyam exhales softly, the sound somewhere between amusement and resignation, leans forward, and steadies her with a light hand on her shoulder.
“Daddy, too rough. You’re hurting me.” she murmurs.
“You say that everytime.” He says, though his voice is already softer now, more cautious as he tries again.
She huffs and leans forward, watching you section all kinds of herbs into different bowls. “Mama, you do it.”
She says it as if it is an expectation—you glance at Neteyam to see his expression, it is not quite that of hurt or anger, only the quiet realization that things really have changed.
You shift your weight to your right foot, glancing for a brief second at the herbs in your hands, then looking at her once again.
“Momma is pretty busy. Daddy can finish, just this once.” You try, softly so she won’t fuss and leave altogether.
She goes still for a moment at that, lips pressing into a thin line as she considers whether it’s a battle worth fighting.
Neteyam doesn’t say anything else, he doesn’t rush her, he doesn’t sigh again, just waits with the same quiet fear… patience he’s always had with her—hands resting lightly in her hair, careful not to pull.
“Fine” she mutters at last, though the word is heavy with reluctance.
You hide your smile by turning slightly back to your work.
Neteyam resumes, slower this time. His fingers separate each strand as if they might break, easing through the tangles and trying not to tug. When she flinches again, it’s a habit. not real complaint.
“see?” he murmurs. “Not so bad.”
She doesn’t answer right away. Her eyes flick toward you again, watching, measuring as if checking whether you’re going to step in anyway.
but you don’t, of course not.
After a while, her shoulders loosen. the tension leaves her little by little, like she’s forgetting she was upset in the first place. She leans back, just slightly, only until her head brushes against his chest.
Neteyam pauses for the briefest second, surprised, before continuing. There’s something softer in his expression now, something that wasn’t there a moment ago.
“You missed a knot.” she mumbles, though there’s no childlike bite left in her voice.
He huffs a quiet laugh. “I didn’t.”
“Yes you diiiid.”
“Did not.”
She tilts her head stubbornly, pointing somewhere vaguely near her temple. “There.”
Neteyam humors her, carefully working through the exact place she indicated. “Better?”
A small pause. “…yeah.”
You glance over then, unable to help yourself. She’s relaxed now, leaning into him fully, eyes half lidded with comfort. And Neteyam is still focused, still careful, but there’s a faint smile tugging at his mouth.
Children grow. They pull away in little ways, choose one parent over the other without meaning to. But they circle back too, in moments like this.
Your daughter shifts again, blinking slowly.
“Papa?”
“Mm?”
“You’re doing good now. Don't stop.”
This time, when Neteyam smiles it actually reaches his eyes.
— ➹
Your daughter slips away though, the moment her hair is finished, already halfway out the doorway before either of you can say anything.
“I’m going to play!” she calls, not really waiting for permission.
Neteyam watches her go, hands still half raised like he might have caught her if she stayed another second longer.
The space is quieter. You finish sorting the last of your herbs, brushing stray leaves from your palms before wiping them clean.
For a moment, you just watch him. How he's sitting there, shoulders a little heavier now that the task is done, the warmth of it gone with her.
Then you step closer. Your hands settle on his shoulders, thumbs pressing gently into the tension there—father, husband, warrior, hunter—sometimes it’s too much, but Neteyam couldn’t be happier.
He exhales, leaning back into your touch without hesitation. “You always wait until she leaves to be nice to me,” he murmurs.
You huff softly. “I am always nice to you.”
“Mm. Not like this.”
His head tilts slightly, just enough to glance back at you, a hint of something playful creeping into his expression despite the lingering quiet in his eyes.
“Maybe we should have another,” he adds, almost too casually. “One who still thinks I am their favorite.”
You snort under your breath, squeezing his shoulders a little firmer. “So that is your solution?”
“It is a good solution,” he insists, though the corner of his mouth lifts. “Start over. This time, I do not let you steal all the attention.”
You lean down slightly, your voice softer now. “You say that as if you wouldn’t give in immediately.”
He doesn’t deny it, instead his gaze drifts back to the doorway where your daughter disappeared through.
“She used to look for me first, that’s all.” He says quietly.
Your hands still.
Neteyam’s fingers rest against his knees now, absentmindedly tracing patterns against his skin. “When she was small, she would cry if I left the room. Always reaching, always calling. She was papa’s girl” He pauses, jaw tightening just slightly. “Now she barely notices.”
“That’s not true,” you say gently.
He shakes his head, not sharply, just enough to show he doesn’t quite believe it. “It feels true.”
There’s no bitterness in his voice. Just something softer. Something that almost sounds like loss.
“She goes to you for everything,” he continues. “Even when I am right here.”
You shift your grip, one hand sliding from his shoulder to rest against his chest as you step around him. “She’s six,” you remind him. “She changes her mind every other day about who her favorite is.”
“She hasn’t changed it back.” he mutters.
That pulls a quiet giggle out from you, but you soften it quickly, brushing your fingers along his jaw, making him face you.
“She leaned into you,” you point out. “You felt that.”
His fingers tap against his knee, a nervous habit he’s had around you since you were younger.
“She asked you not to stop,” you add.
The tension in him eases just a fraction. “I did notice.” He admits.
You smile, just a little. “Good. Then stop acting like she’s already grown.”
He huffs quietly, one hand coming up to rest over yours where it sits against his chest. His thumb brushes over your knuckles.
“She is growing,” he says. “Too fast.”
There’s something in the way he says it—like he wishes he could slow it down, hold onto every version of her just a little longer.
You lean closer, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.
“And you’re still her father,” you murmur. “That doesn’t get replaced.”
He turns his head slightly at that, just enough that your faces are closer now, his gaze lingering on yours.
“…we could still have another,” he says again, quieter this time, but there’s a teasing warmth underneath it now, less about loss and more about something shared.
You roll your eyes, though your lips curve. “You’re not letting that go?”
“No.”
His hand tightens gently around yours. “s’not a bad idea,” he adds.
Sorry if this is a bother but I was just wondering how u got so good at writing and if u have any tips for beginners
this is totally not a bother! i would love to give you some tips 🥹
we’re learning together btw
my biggest thing is honestly reading lol 😭 i thrive off of other ideas which isn’t always such a good thing (it’s great, if you give credit), but i use different stuff for reference and not JUST other peoples works!
i will sometimes look for synonyms to other words just to make things sound better which is lowkey embarrassing to admit, but it’s great for people who don’t have the greatest vocabulary, especially those who’s first language is not english.
organizing your paragraphs and sentences is also something that is very important and lowkey common sense. just make sure to use proper grammar, punctuation and spelling (which isn’t the most important thing as long as the reader can actually tell what you meant)
writing daily is not a necessity but it is a good exercise!
consume great writing, read books, read other fanfiction and learn!!!
don’t let anybody yuck your yum 🙄 write what you like, don’t change just because others don’t see your vision cause i promise there is someone in the world who YUMS YOUR YUM 😭😭
i’ve honestly always been a good writer, some things will always need work of course. but i started writing at a young age, not always fanfiction specifically it’s always been something i am able and passionate about, literature and writing.
Heyy :) if i'm not bothering i wanted to ask if you could do a continuation of the pregnant reader with the sully family? It's so cute id love to see them interacting with the baby!! 💞
awee i’d actually love to do this!
im SO sorry for taking so long to publish anything. i’ve been so tired and busy recently!!
hiii! could u do more sully family x reader angst? i don’t mind the scenario (not giving u much to go off of, sorry😭😭) just with a bad ending? i know it’s deep, so if u don’t want to do write that you can also do a angst with happy ending🤗
Hii!!! if you have too many requests, feel free to look at this another time!! but, i would like to see a fanfic of sully!reader starting to struggle mentally due to Neteyams death and the war, which lead to her having horrible mood swings, skipping meals, not leaving her hammock for hours, suddenly having scars, etc.
the only ones who noticed were Jake and lo’ak, neytiri got worried of course, but she thought it was due to the war so she decided to give her some space. untill Jake catches you doing harm to yourself and comforts her 🥹🥹🥹🥹 so sorry if this is too sad or dark, i love sad fanfics
aww this is so deep. i would love to do this though
Hi I saw you had a lot of request so feel free to ignore this!!
I was thinking what about a lion king-esque angsty fic where maybe the reader (who is the oldest child of Ronal and Tonowari) is banished (maybe not by Tonowari but like their grandfather or something? When the reader is very young for being reckless during a hunt?) or taken (kind of like in the Avatar video game where the Sarentu are taken by the RDA?) from the clan and then ends up meeting the family again during the war years later or when the reader maybe accidentally crashes in Awa'atlu! Sorry this isn't really much to work with I think but your fics are quite good and wanted to leave a request because I've been thinking about this kind of fic idea!! :D <3 also it could be whatever ship you want or no ship!!! Thank you!! <33
First of all I want to say I love your work. And I was wondering if I could do Aonung x bubbly Tlalim Clan reader and he’s like very grumpy but gentle with her at the same time
Hii I just read 'Space between us' (late I knoww) and someone requested a version where reader doesn't forgive them, I really have been waiting for that version since 'I truly am my parents' daughter' and maybe after she gets shot, they show all the sudden care and she just disagrees to accept any of *their* help? And Mo'at is the only person reader accepts help from because Mo'at had always truly seen her? And after healing slowly she continues to go on raids, continues to train all while her siblings try doing things to win her back, her dad tries his best to give her a little more attention, and one day she almost acknowledges his attention before he's called away by one of her siblings? And that's her breaking point, she goes to another clan to train with them instead (Metkayina, Mangkwan maybee?) and that's when the Sulli family truly starts missing her?
This is the first time I'm messaging someone on tumblr because 'I am my parent's daughter' made me cry since I faced a similar situation at home (the ignorance, feeling of being unloved) and I've fallen in love with 'When Mantle takes root' and cried during reader's mother's death too, so just wanted to say your writing is impeccable, also you don't have to do my request I don't mind!<3
