#coparenting

huge mistake

Brendon Park x fem!reader

summary: you and Brendon coparent your little daughter, one day he’s late to pick her up in the kindergarten and you storm into his office to give him a hard time. later you ends up at his place, because your little one threw a fit about missing her stuffed animal. years of missing each other ends with you in his embrace in the bed you once shared…

warnings: 18+, smut, oral, unprotected sex, dirty talk, curse words, little plot twist at the end ;)

word count: 2.7k

#ex-husband!Gojo X fem!reader

summary: ♛ you and Satoru got divorced because he had no time for you and your baby. but you had a two-year-old baby. two years went on and your daughter wanted to stay over her dad's. that's when things got harder to manage.

word count: ♛ 4.6k!

content warnings: ♛ kinda slow burn, eventual smut — mdni, p in v, eating out, groping, FLUUUFFFF, mentions of ovulation and pregnancy, breeding kink(ish, not really)

a/n: hello Tumblr people. the last time I had been in here was like years ago when I was still at the middle school, it feels pretty nostalgic. English is not my first language, in fact I'm still at the learning point so please try to ignore issues if you see. also this is my first work, so of course there would be mistakes. appreciate you all, thanks for reading already!!

—

Two years ago, you and your perfect husband, Satoru, divorced. Well, you had your reasons, and he agreed with them all. Like how he never had time for you and your two-year-old daughter. Like how you were never the priority. Like how you didn’t even get to see him for months sometimes. Satoru thought you deserved someone better, someone present, someone that could love you with their all. And that’s how the marriage ended—on a random Tuesday afternoon, in a single session. It ended like that.

Later, he could only see his baby girl for a couple of hours at your house. And you always stayed away from him, knowing if you stepped two more steps further, you’d be clinging to his lips, nuzzling against him desperately. And almost two more years passed like that. You couldn’t find someone better—or maybe you didn’t want to. Satoru didn’t want you to work, and he sent more money than an adult and a little kid would ever need, but you appreciated him and made his wish come true.

When Yumi, your daughter, hit four, she became a daddy’s girl more than ever and wanted to spend the whole day with her daddy alone. At first, Satoru worried a bit, because he had never spent time alone with Yumi. She was a precious little thing to him, and he just couldn’t risk anything happening out of control, no matter how perfect he was. But he couldn’t resist his daughter’s big eyes—reflections of yours, like a little you. And for the record, he was still in love with you so damn much, just like you loved him with the same intensity still.

So, of course, Yumi got her daddy to accept one night over at his place—the house you went to as a bride. Yumi’s room in that house was still a baby nursery, with her crib still there, the first toys they had bought, the toys that had been given as gifts, some unfinished packs of diapers, her baby clothes still neatly folded in the drawer—sometimes Satoru smelled them just to remember his daughter’s baby scent.

Yumi’s first night over at her daddy’s home was perfect. For sure, she didn’t remember the times she used to live there with you, but it was all perfect. Hey—her daddy was Satoru Gojo after all, the strongest and most perfect man in the world. He cooked Yumi’s favorite meal, watched cartoons with her, then played games with her and let her sleep in his big king-sized bed instead of her little crib. But Satoru—he cried that night. It wasn’t the first time he cried over you, no. He cried a lot, like you did too. It was so damn hard to break up when you were still in love, and it showed in every aspect.

Satoru only went to an escort when he really needed to relieve some stress, and even then, he ended up moaning your name loudly as he pounded into her, hating himself for it—only you were so addicted to how rough he was in bed when he was stressed. But anyway, he cried because of how beautiful his daughter was and how much he cared for her. He would burn the world down for her. For you. (Even though it was a lie, because Satoru was lonely at the top. He was a “hero” for humanity, and neither you nor Yumi could ever be his priority. He was a god after all. A freaking god.)

That Sunday afternoon, you went to pick up Yumi because Satoru said he had meetings in his clan. The second you were standing before that door, your legs were trembling. You struggled to stay upright because you remembered. You remembered the day Satoru opened the door with you on his lap, your wedding gown perfect—it had been the happiest day of your life. He carried you inside and had you loving him all night long, without worrying about the rest of the world for the first time, regardless of how impossible it sounded.

Finally, you managed to ring the doorbell. Soon after, Satoru opened it. He was in dark blue jeans and a compression T-shirt—the ones he had hundreds of and you were tired of washing every goddamn Saturday. Yumi was bouncing and babbling loudly as she ran over to you. No matter how much of a daddy’s girl she was, she was obsessed with her mother. You kneeled down and picked her up, letting her kiss all over you and tell you how much she missed you.

“No mayonnaise as you said, slept at ten and woke up at eight—such an early bird,” he joked dryly, but his eyes were shining. You nodded silently as Yumi laid her head on your shoulder. You ran your gaze away from him, knowing what could happen if you kept looking at him.

“I also wanted to give her a bath as you requested, but this little princess,” he leaned in and tapped Yumi’s little nose, making the little girl squirm, “said she didn’t want to,” he continued softly before straightening up. “So I didn’t wanna force her. I’m assuming that’d be alright with you.”

You were smiling warmly before you even noticed it. “Thank you,” you murmured softly as you took Yumi’s bags that Satoru was handing to you. “Tell daddy goodbye,” you said softly to Yumi as the little girl waved her hand.

“Bye-bye, Daddy!”

Satoru leaned in and kissed her forehead as he looked at you under his white lashes. His eyes were burning with longing and love, wishing it was you he was kissing instead.

“Bye-bye, princess. Be good to your momma, alright?” he cheered with a big smile as he looked back at Yumi.

They hugged one last time before you stepped back and walked over to your car. On the drive back home, it was him all over your mind. God, the way you missed his touch, his eyes, his body, his love—his everything. Everything was perfect about him, and once, he was truly yours. You lost him. For what? For your sake? It was all a lie, and you knew it. It was only a big mistake.

Another week passed. This time, Yumi wanted her daddy to come over for breakfast. Since what had happened the week before, you were pretty distant to that idea. You didn’t want to see Satoru either—you were just close to your menstrual period and were emotional because of that. You couldn’t decide. However, breaking Yumi’s heart was your biggest fear, because the little girl was already growing up between separated parents and without a family that was complete all the time. So, of course, spoiling her rotten was one of the only common grounds you had with Satoru lately.

When the bell rang in the apartment, it was around nine a.m., and you were still sleeping. You got up from the bed, tried to fix your bed hair, and grabbed a jacket as you walked over to open the door. Well, you didn’t expect anyone else but Satoru, and here he was. He was wearing a blue shirt, pressed dark blue pants, and his sunglasses, holding a bouquet of roses.

“You could have come yesterday, you’re so late,” you said sarcastically as you leaned to the side to let him in. Satoru stepped in as he shook his head. “It’s my fault to assume that you would be as punctual as our daughter,” he said as he took off his shoes, a slight smirk on his face.

“So you’re assuming I’m a bad mother?” you said as you closed the door, and he let out a chuckle.

“No, you’re the greatest mother I’ve ever seen. These are for you.”

He handed you the bouquet, and you blushed as you took them. For real, he was your husband once—getting flowers would’ve been the most normal thing. But in the two years you had been alone with yourself, anything besides the grass and flowers Yumi ripped from the ground, you had never been given flowers. It was special.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to,” you murmured softly as you walked into the kitchen to put the roses in a vase, while Satoru leaned on the doorway and watched you. The house was silent, but his mind—it was loud. It was filled with all the things he wanted to do, one of them being dropping to his knees, hugging your hips, and begging for you to come back. But of course, he wouldn’t do that. He was Satoru Gojo after all. Or maybe he would—he couldn’t decide.

He stepped closer as you started to prepare the breakfast, making toast, eggs—anything you remembered Satoru liked and anything Yumi liked.

“Need help?” he asked softly as he leaned on the counter. You shook your head. It was hard to ignore the tension in the room, because you knew he wanted to hug your waist from behind, kissing your neck and cheek as he hummed. God, the way the world would disappear in your embrace—he missed that feeling.

“You could wake Yumi up,” you mumbled softly, and Satoru nodded, leaving you alone in the kitchen reluctantly. As he woke Yumi up, the little girl’s cheers filled the apartment. You smiled to yourself as you prepared the breakfast—you loved your life for that second. Everything about it felt so normal, like you had never divorced and it was just a casual Saturday morning.

As all of you ate heart-shaped cheese and cucumbers, Yumi talked about her week in preschool. Satoru listened to her carefully as you were lost in your thoughts. You wanted and loved that man so much—it was such a tease. He was just sitting in front of you like that, being extremely hot yet soft, like a deadly beautiful flower. And the hours passed hardly ever. You played with Yumi before you laid her down for her nap, then you were alone with him again.

The living room was silent as outer space as you two sat on separate couches. Satoru tapped his foot on the floor; you sucked your bottom lip nervously—God! Why would you do that!? You reckless woman, making everything harder for him.

“So, how’s been your life going—”

“So, how’s your life—”

You looked at him. He looked at you.

“You go first—”

“You first—”

Another moment passed before you both chuckled softly. Then Satoru spoke up.

“You know, it’s all shitty. Just the jujutsu world—you already know. Working overtime all the time and actin’ fine ’bout it.”

You nodded sympathetically. Of course you did—you always understood him and tried to take a little weight off his shoulders. But you were never on his level, though seeing someone trying so hard for him always made Satoru feel better. It was only one of the reasons he was in love with you.

“It’s the same here too. Just spending my time with Yumi,” you mumbled softly as you looked at the floor, your elbows leaning on your knees, hands palming your face. “She says she loves a boy. I can’t believe my baby thinks she can love someone at four!” you complained.

Satoru laughed softly. “Is that so? I wonder where she got it from.” He looked at you and winked. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you looked up at the ceiling.

“Do you ever change? Same tease all the time…” you complained again.

Satoru laughed a little more, manspreading on the couch like a thirst trapper. “They say you cannot bathe in the same river twice,” he said, acting like a thinker himself—God forbid a man loved his way with words and actions.

“What if I don’t want to bathe in that river again?” you asked. He looked hurt for a second before he shrugged it off.

“Then you wouldn’t. It ain’t that sophisticated, really.”

You smiled hurtfully—you knew how to hurt him, and he knew how to bite back.

After dinner that day, Satoru went on a mission that lasted for straight two months. You called him every time Yumi wanted, and it was the only time you spoke to each other. You hated the distance, but he was your ex-husband after all—not your lover, not your husband. Only the father of your child, and nothing else. When Satoru turned back, he couldn’t show up because of how tired he was. So it had been six weeks at most until the unexpected meeting with him. I mean—you didn’t plan on meeting him in the mall on a Friday.

After you picked Yumi up from her preschool, you took her to the mall. The little girl was growing up pretty tall for her age, thanks to Satoru’s dominant genes, and it was hard to keep up with her clothing. First, you two ate some pizza, and then started to go through shops. It was a great day, considering how happy Yumi was just to go out with her mother. She held your hand tightly and babbled as she ran between sections like a little cheerful ball.

With a big, warm smile on your face, you bought Yumi new dresses, new pants, and jumpers for winter—of course, with Satoru’s black card. In a toy shop, Yumi was looking at Barbies as you hung around some puzzles. Just then, Yumi came up to you with a ginger-haired Barbie doll and big eyes.

“Mommy, I’ve never had a Barbie with orange hair!” she whined as she pouted, giving you that look you could never say no to.

You crouched down to her level and cupped her cheek. “You sure you want that, baby? You have only one option to buy a toy today,” you said softly as she nodded.

“Yes, Mommy, I want this, pleeeasee!” she said as she leaned her head to the side.

You got up and held her hand. “Then let’s go pay for it, alright?”

Yumi cheered as she held your hand, walking over to the checkout with you. As you were about to pay, the ground started to shake violently. You held Yumi close, thinking it was just an earthquake for a second. Come on now—as long as you crouched down somewhere stable, nothing disastrous would happen. You were in Japan after all.

So you did. You crouched before the checkout, Yumi under your chin, whispering sweet nothings to keep her calm. But no—you could tell this wasn’t an earthquake when a big, white curse with red eyes sprang out of the ground.

It was so bad that you were probably the only person who could stop it. How could you leave your baby alone to stop a curse, right? Also, it had been at least four years since the last time you ever fought. The day you found out you were pregnant, you swore you would only dedicate yourself to your baby.

So, of course, you got up, picked Yumi up, told her not to open her eyes until you said so, and ran as fast as you could to the exit. But just as you were running down the aisle, a big piece of rock fell onto the ground before you, making the floor curve downward, dropping you and forcing you to slide toward the rubble. Another block fell and trapped you and Yumi on the third floor of the mall, the curse continuing its killing spree.

While you were thinking this was the end—because there was nothing left to do until the jujutsu users arrived—someone showed up seconds later. A big, purple light reflected on everything, making you close your eyes tightly and nuzzle against Yumi. The little girl was screaming and crying in fear; you pressed her against your chest.

Then—two strong hands and a quiet hush.

“It’s all gone now. I’m here. Sorry… so sorry for being late…” Satoru whispered as he hugged you both.

You looked up at him, then clung to him tightly as you cried your heart out. For a second, you thought you were going to die before seeing him again—before having another chance with him. Yumi hugged her dad too, crying and screaming into his chest.

People were recording the hero who allowed himself to be human for the first time ever. His blindfold absorbed the tears, but his shoulders couldn’t hide the fact that he was crying too.

—

The drive back home was silent, filled only with Yumi’s deep breaths. Poor little thing—she was out like a light. You were crying softly too. It took at least half an hour before you could get into your car, but in the end, Satoru was the one driving you home.

He entered the apartment after you, carrying Yumi in his arms. You dropped the bags at the entrance and clumsily took off your shoes; he did the same.

“Should I just lay her down?” he asked quietly.

You looked at him and nodded. “Yeah… I’ll change her into her pajamas,” you mumbled.

You opened the door to Yumi’s room, and he followed, laying the little girl down gently before kissing her forehead. While you changed her into her pajamas, Satoru leaned against the doorframe, watching you. Afterward, you wiped the dirt from her face with wet wipes and let her sleep, deciding to give her a bath once she woke up.

When you stood up, you walked over to Satoru and gently closed the door. For a moment, you simply looked at each other in silence before you hugged him, exhausted. He wrapped his arms around you immediately, happily.

The world seemed to shut down with his arms around your body. He kissed your hair and inhaled your scent, his hands gripping your waist before sliding up your back and pulling you closer.

“I was so afraid,” you mumbled, your hands clutching his T-shirt as your head rested beneath his chin.

“I’m sorry I was late,” he murmured back, kissing your head again.

“No… I wasn’t afraid of that,” you said quietly. “I just… couldn’t bear the thought of losing the chance we have. Forever.”

You sounded almost shy, but you needed to say it. You couldn’t hide it anymore.

“Baby.” Satoru pulled back slightly, cupping your cheek and making you look up at him. “We never lost our chance. Things are just better this way.”

You shook your head. “No, they’re not. Everything would be different now.”

“They would be,” he said sharply. “If you had found someone else. Then I’d have to deal with some bastard, Yumi would have to call someone else her dad, and I’d have to share you with someone else.”

He cupped your cheeks with both hands.

“We may not be together,” he said more softly, leaning his forehead against yours, thumbs brushing over your skin, “but we’re still each other’s. And that never changed.”

You held his wrists gently and closed your eyes.

“Satoru…” was all you managed to say.

He leaned closer, nuzzling his nose against yours. Before you could think twice, you blurted out, “Let’s bathe,” your voice barely above a mumble.

He blinked—then his cocky self kicked in.

“What do you mean, hmm?” he grinned, pulling back slightly.

You blushed and bit your bottom lip. “Don’t! I’m trying to have a nice moment here!”

He chuckled, his hands sliding down to your hips. “Just say you wanna be more intimate, shorty.”

You stopped yourself from slapping the life out of him. Barely.

“That’s not what I meant!” you snapped, pushing his chest.

—

To make a long story short, you were soon soaking in warm bathwater, leaned back against Satoru’s chest. His hands rested on your stomach, fingers lazily caressing your skin.

You closed your eyes and inhaled softly. His touch wandered—first over your belly, then up to your breasts, cupping them gently.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured against your ear.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back, glancing up at him. He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you for letting me this close,” he said quietly, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

You smiled, kissed his cheek, then turned around, resting your front against his chest.

He looked down at you, cupping your cheek as he leaned closer.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly.

You nodded, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

He leaned in slowly, pressing his lips to yours. In that moment, you wanted to scream, laugh, and cry all at once. He deepened the kiss carefully, fingers threading through your hair. It grew more desperate, yet neither of you rushed—it had been two years, after all.

When you finally pulled back, Satoru rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed, breathing you in.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You couldn’t help but giggle, happiness bubbling over. “Love you too.”

After washing up, he wrapped a towel around you carelessly, settling you on his lap. He carried you to the bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed, and gently dried your hair with a towel.

as he dried your hair, you held your hands on his shoulders, massaging his muscles gently. he put the towel to a side as he leaned in closer again, kissing your lips softly. you hugged his neck as you kissed him back. "we've got a lot of to catch-up, right?" he mumbled as he hugged your waist, you smiled and nodded, kissing him again. "we do..." you mumbled but before you could end up your sentence, he was all over you, between your legs. he kissed your forehead, then your nose. "are you cold, my love?" he mumbled softly as he leaned in for the covers, he could tell that you were cold. he was trying to distract himself from the fact that both of you were naked.

he pulled the covers over yourselves as he laid down his head on your chest, right over your heart. you threaded his hair with your fingers. he left kisses all over your neck, inhaling your scent, your hands lingered on his shoulders. soon after, your bodies were moving in a gentle rhythm, with your hips moving against his, lips crushing each other. "you sure you wanna do this tonight? we could do it some other time— or not. I don't want you to reg—" "no, I want this so bad!" you moaned out as you hugged his neck tightly. he smiled, kissing your cheek. "alright then, if you say so..." he mumbled before lowing his lips down. kissing your neck, your collarbones, breasts, sliding down till he stopped between your thighs, then kissed your inner thighs.

your breath hitched as you ran a hand on his hair, letting him do his magic on you. he held your thighs spread open as he slid his tongue through your wet slit, groaning at the taste. he missed this taste on his tongue. his fingers dug into your skin as he licked you with such appetite, making your eyes roll back. his tongue focused on your clit, flicking the bud relentlessly. "ah, Satoru— nnh!" you cried out softly as your back arched, eyes rolled back. he groaned and pulled back, your wetness dripping off his chin as he held his cock. you panted softly as you watched him, your pussy throbbing with need.

"you sure you wanna go further?" he asked again, just to be sure of your full consent. "please, Satoru, please..." you begged her desperately as you held onto his shoulders, he smiled and kissed your lips. "I didn't ask you to beg, baby." he mumbled as he leaned is tip in your entrance, then pushed inside slowly. both of you groaned as he thrusted his length into your tight warmth. he stopped when he pushed halfway through, kissing you to distract you from the pain, his thumb teasing your clit gently.

"you okay?" he asked, looking at you as he panted, sweat forming on his skin. you nodded as he sat up on his heels, pushing the rest of his cock till it hit your cervix, ripping a scream right from your chest. your nails dug into his arms as he leaned down, kissing your lips. "hush... I'm sorry, are you okay?" he asked gently, trying to make sure that you were okay and comfortable. you nodded as you hugged his neck. "I just... forgot how big you were," you mumbled, he smirked as he looked at you. "is that so sweetheart? couldn't find a cock bigger than this?" he thrusted to emphasize, making you moan loudly. you slapped his shoulder, making him chuckle and lean down on you. "I'm just kidding, y'know that." he whispered softly before kissing your ear, then pulling back, looking into your eyes. "I'm gonna move, okay?" he asked softly as he hugged your waist. "you better start," you mumbled, sweat forming on your forehead. he chuckled deeply before starting to thrust slowly, groaning at your feeling. damn, he missed you so much that he could cry right now. but he couldn't decide what was making him cry, it was either your sweet pussy or how much he missed you.

his hand gripped your waist tighter as he started to pound gently into you. you whimpered softly as you clinged onto his shoulders. he groaned as he leaned down, kissing you deeply. "Satoru..." you whimpered and made his eyes roll back, he loved how you called out his name. "Darling," he murmured back in his husky tone. his hips started move faster, squelching and slapping noises became louder, thanks to how wet you were.

you whined loudly as he started to scratch that sweet spot, throwing your head back and leaving a big place for him to suck on. he leaned on one hand as his other hand gripped your tit, thumb playing with your nipple, he sucked lovebites on your neck.

he pulled back as he gripped your chin gently, making you look at him. "look at me," he commanded desperately. you could hardly keep his gaze as he was pounding so fast into your sweet spot, making your walls clench around his cock. "Sa— Satoru..!" you moaned his name and he groaned, throwing his head back as he focused on bringing each of you two orgasm.

you mouth hung open in a silent scream as your back arched, Satoru moaned loudly as he cum inside you, not bothering to pull out. though you had to tell him before, "nooo, Satoru, I'm not on birth control, I could get pregnant, it's my ovulation week!" but honestly, who gives a fuck if you got pregnant? it would be even better. after all, giving Satoru another baby, wasn't the worst idea you ever had.

he collapsed on you as he panted, you walls milked him eagerly. your eyes closed and whimpered in orgasm, hands running through his sweaty back and hair. he kissed your forehead and whispered: "I love you." you hugged him and turned your head to his side, kissing his lips. "I love you..." you mumbled back softly, making him smile, his eyes crinkling on the sides.

"you know, you should marry me again."

—

somehow .. i am still alive

Pairing: Leon Kennedy (RE4) x fem!reader Summary: You and Leon have been broken up for a long time but you still co-parent. After your daughter's seventh birthday party, things got a little heated. But it's fine, right? part 1, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

Notes: A lot of you wanted a part 2 and I was feeling it too, so here it is. Enjoy, you lovely people and let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part <3

Make requests here.

WC: 2k

Warnings: some suggestive themes, dad!Leon, divorced Leon, co-parenting, single mom, pregnancy (?), probably incorrect ballet stuff, dyslexia

Masterlist

Blue Lines & Bloodlines Mini Series

Pairing: Ilya Rozanov x Pike!Sister!Reader

Summary: You introduce Ilya to Ana, and despite the tension, he bonds with her instantly. Hayden is furious when he learns the truth, turning an old rivalry into a family war. Legal battles begin, but Ilya shows up consistently, determined to be a real father. In a private confrontation, he reveals his heartbreak over the five years he lost.

The drive from the law office to your townhouse is a blur of gray sky and a pounding headache centered directly behind your eyes. Ilya follows in his own car, a silent, ominous shadow in your rearview mirror. You called your mother, your voice trembling as you gave her the barest of explanations: “The… father. He’s here. He wants to meet her. Please, just… be normal. I’ll explain later.”

You pull into your driveway, the familiar sight of Ana’s pink bicycle on the lawn offering no comfort. Ilya parks behind you, cutting the engine. For a long moment, neither of you moves. You watch in the mirror as he stares at your house, his expression inscrutable. This is the domestic scene he’s been excluded from. The flower boxes you planted last spring, the chalk drawings on the pavement, the plastic playhouse in the corner of the yard. It’s a life. 'Her' life.

Taking a shuddering breath, you get out. He does the same, unfolding his long frame from the low-slung car. He’s removed his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. He looks less like a corporate negotiator and more like himself, which is somehow more intimidating.

“This is it,” you say, your voice thin.

He just nods, his eyes taking in everything.

Inside, the smell of cookies hits you. Your mother has baked, a nervous habit. The sound of cartoons comes from the living room. “We’re in the kitchen, sweetheart!” your mother calls, her voice strained with false cheer.

You lead Ilya down the short hallway. Your mother stands at the counter, wiping her hands on a towel. Her eyes widen slightly at the sight of him, the sheer physical presence of Ilya Rozanov in her daughter’s kitchen is surreal. She’s seen him on TV, heard Hayden rant about him for years. Now he’s here, the secret given flesh and bone.

“Mom, this is Ilya,” you say, the introduction absurd in its simplicity. “Ilya, my mother, Elaine.”

He is, despite everything, polite. He steps forward and offers his hand. “Mrs. Pikes. Thank you for allowing this.”

Your mother shakes his hand, her gaze searching his face, then yours, a thousand questions in her eyes. “Of course,” she manages. “Ana’s just in the living room. I’ll… I’ll go get her.”

The moment she leaves, the kitchen becomes a vacuum. The only sound is the hum of the refrigerator. Ilya leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching you. The silence is unbearable.

“She’s shy with new people,” you blurt out. “And this is… a lot.”

“For everyone,” he replies, his tone still flat. He’s looking at the drawings stuck to the fridge with magnets. A purple dinosaur. A house with a giant sun. Scrawled letters: ANA, MOM. His jaw tightens.

Then, a small voice from the doorway. “Grandma said we have a visitor.”

You turn. Ana is peeking around the doorframe, half-hidden behind your mother’s leg. She’s wearing her favorite unicorn pajamas, her hair in a messy bun. She’s clutching a well-loved stuffed otter.

Ilya goes perfectly still. Every ounce of his intense focus is now directed at the small girl in the doorway. You see his breath catch. You see his eyes, wide and stunned, drinking her in. The blue of her eyes meeting the blue of his. The shape of her face. The curious tilt of her head. It’s a mirror, a revelation happening in real time.

“Ana, honey,” you say, your voice cracking. You kneel, holding out a hand. “This is… this is a friend of Mommy’s. His name is Ilya.”

She takes a tentative step forward, then another, her eyes fixed on the large stranger. She doesn’t smile. She just studies him with the serious, open scrutiny of a child. “You’re very tall,” she announces.

A sound escapes Ilya—a soft, choked huff that might have been the ghost of a laugh. He slowly, carefully, lowers himself into a crouch, bringing himself closer to her level. It’s a gesture so deliberate, so unlike the brash Ilya Rozanov the world knows, that it makes your heart ache.

“I am,” he says, his voice softer than you’ve heard it yet. It’s rough, like he hasn’t used it in years. “You are very observant.”

“I’m five,” she says, holding up her hand with all fingers splayed.

“Five is a very good age,” he replies, his eyes never leaving hers. “I like your otter.”

She looks down at the stuffed animal, then back at him, as if assessing his taste. “His name is Sushi.”

This time, a real, small smile touches Ilya’s lips. It transforms his face, erasing some of the hardness, revealing the man you glimpsed for one night. “Sushi. That is an excellent name.”

“Do you want to see my room?” Ana asks, the sudden shift in conversation so purely childlike it’s disorienting. “I have a bunk bed, but I only sleep on the bottom because the top is for stuffies and sometimes I’m scared I’ll fall.”

Ilya looks up at you, a silent question in his eyes. Permission. The power dynamic, for this fleeting moment, is in your hands. You nod, numb.

“I would like that very much,” he says to Ana.

She reaches out, not for his hand, but simply turns and expects him to follow. He rises from his crouch and does, moving with a strange, careful grace as he follows your five-year-old daughter down the hall. You and your mother stand frozen in the kitchen, listening to the sound of Ana’s chatter (“…and this is where I keep my rocks, they’re all different kinds…”) and the low, murmured responses of the man who is her father.

The visit lasts an hour. An hour where you hover, a silent ghost in your own home. You watch him sit on the floor of her room, patiently listening to her explain the intricate social dynamics of her stuffed animal collection. You watch him examine a Lego spaceship with genuine interest. You see Ana’s initial shyness melt away under the focused attention of this new, fascinating adult. He doesn’t force anything. He doesn’t try to hug her or call her anything but “Ana.” He just… is there. Present.

When it’s time for him to leave, Ana walks him to the front door. “Will you come back and see my rock collection when it’s bigger?” she asks.

Ilya crouches down again. “Yes,” he says, and the word is a vow. “I will come back very soon, malyshka.” The Russian endearment slips out, soft and natural.

He stands, and his eyes meet yours over her head. The intensity is back, but it’s different now. Tempered by what he’s just seen, by the reality of the little girl between you. There’s still anger, a deep, resonant hurt, but it’s now tangled with something else, wonder, responsibility, a fierce and nascent protectiveness.

“We will talk tomorrow,” he says to you, not a request. Then he looks back at Ana. “Goodbye, Ana.”

“Bye, Ilya.”

He leaves, and the house feels cavernously empty. Ana skips back to the living room, seemingly unfazed. “He was nice. He said my spaceship was ‘technically impressive.’ Can I have a cookie?”

The aftermath is a slow-motion earthquake. Telling Hayden is the hardest thing you’ve ever done. He’s back from his road trip, bursting into your house with his usual energy, ready to wrestle with his niece. You sit him down. You say the words. “Ana’s father… it’s Ilya Rozanov.”

The color drains from his face. Confusion, then dawning horror, then a rage so profound it shakes the walls. “That asshole? That arrogant, dirty-playing, piece of— He touched you? He… and you… and Ana?” His voice breaks on her name. The betrayal he feels is a tidal wave, directed at both you and Ilya. The rivalry is no longer a game. It’s a blood feud. It takes days, and your mother’s calm intervention, for him to even speak to you without shouting. He looks at Ana and sees Ilya, and it visibly pains him.

Meanwhile, the legal machinery grinds on. Meetings are scheduled. A temporary, highly supervised visitation order is put in place. Ilya’s lawyers push for more time, for overnight visits, for inclusion in medical and educational decisions. Your lawyer fights for a slow transition, for maintaining the status quo. Through it all, Ilya is a constant, complicated presence.

He shows up for every visitation, punctual to a fault. He takes Ana to the zoo, to science museums (you have a panic attack the first time, but no, he avoids the garage), to quiet parks. He sends text messages—not to you, but to a co-parenting app the lawyers mandated. They are brusque, factual. “At the park. She ate her whole sandwich. Home by 4.” Sometimes, a photo is attached. Ana on a swing, her hair flying. Ana concentrating fiercely on feeding a giraffe. Her smile is bright, genuine.

You hate the photos. You treasure them. They are proof he is not hurting her, that she is happy with him. It’s a confusing, agonizing duality.

The first major confrontation happens during a hand-off. Ilya is returning Ana to your doorstep. Hayden, who has been staying with you off and on since the revelation, answers the door.

The two men stare at each other on your welcome mat, the years of on-ice hatred crackling in the air. Ana, sensing the tension, shrinks back against Ilya’s leg.

“Give her to me,” Hayden says, his voice low and dangerous.

“She is not a package,” Ilya replies coldly, his hand resting lightly on Ana’s shoulder. “She is a person. Say goodbye to your uncle, malyshka.”

“Don’t you tell her what to do,” Hayden snarls, taking a step forward.

“Stop it!” The voice is yours, sharp and desperate. You push between them, a fragile barrier. You take Ana’s hand and guide her inside, away from the storm. You turn back to the doorway. “This ends now. You two want to kill each other on the ice? Fine. But you will not do it in front of her. You will not make her choose sides or feel scared. Do you understand me?”

Both men look chastised, but the fury still simmers. Ilya’s eyes meet yours. “She should not be in the middle of this,” he says, echoing your thought, but his gaze flicks to Hayden with clear blame.

“Then stop putting her there,” you fire back. “Both of you.”

It’s after this incident that Ilya requests a meeting. Without lawyers. Just you and him, at a neutral, quiet café.

You go, armed with defensiveness. He’s already there, in a corner booth, two coffees waiting. He looks tired.

“Thank you for coming,” he says as you sit.

“What do you want, Ilya?”

He stirs his coffee, not drinking it. “I want to know why,” he says, finally looking at you. The raw pain in his eyes is disarming. “Not the legal reasons. Not the fear of your brother. Why did you not tell 'me' ? That night… it was not nothing.”

The question hangs between you, the one you’ve asked yourself a million times. You wrap your hands around the warm mug. “You were Ilya Rozanov,” you whisper. “You were the enemy. You were… a comet. Brilliant, fast, gone. I was a one-night stand. I saw the way you lived. The freedom. A baby… my brother’s sister’s baby… it would have been a scandal, a chain, a headline. I thought I was protecting everyone. Ana, Hayden, my parents… you.”

“You did not protect me,” he says, the words raw. “You stole five years. First steps, first words, first everything. You let 'him' have it.” The jealousy toward Hayden is a living thing. “You thought I would not want her?”

“I didn’t know what you would want!” you say, your own frustration breaking through. “I was scared and alone and I made a choice! Was it the right one? I don’t know anymore! But I have spent every day since then loving her with everything I have. She is my whole world.”

“She is my world too,” he says, and the conviction in his voice is absolute. “Now. She is my world now. And I will not be the visiting stranger anymore. I am her father.”

This is the new reality. The heated rivalry has found its way into the very heart of your family. But as you sit across from him, you don’t see just the rival, the superstar, or the angry man from the law office. You see a father, heartbroken and determined, fighting for a place in his daughter’s life. You see the man who patiently listened to a five-year-old explain her rock collection.

The path forward is uncharted, mined with old hatreds and fresh wounds. Hayden may never accept it. The public will eventually find out, and that storm will come. But there is a little girl with blue eyes who, in her innocent wisdom, has begun to draw pictures with three stick figures labeled MOM, ANA, and ILYA.

The game has changed forever. It’s no longer about winning a battle, but about building something fragile and new from the wreckage of the past. It’s the hardest, most important game of your life. And as you look at Ilya, you realize, with a terrifying, reluctant clarity, that you’re not on opposing teams anymore. You’re co-captains of the same impossible, precious team: Team Ana. And for her sake, you’re going to have to learn how to play together.

Taglist: @sheslikeacurse @minaxcarter @omgsuperstarg @user09815 @remilarat @starstruckgothspybagel-blog @anaxoxo09 @kheurwen @mayifindlove67 @cupidsrry @valeriereads17 @leviathanspain @viamiasoncrack @unsaidjaelinrose @lunadi1una @illyrianbrat @palomavz @gretavanhockey @milkandpeaches02 @the-pirate-duck @capricorn-nightmare @fallenchipsworld @dream03 @sellyna068 @kazooparoo @ohlookitsasinglepoeceofpopcorn @rosescripted @perks-of-being-jojo @itstoocoldinthishouse @myheartfollower @dementedtrashcat @thinkingaboutnameistodifficult @buttercup0024 @reader142 @hollanovandskip @clinically-confused

pairing; re2!Leon x its really complicated f!Reader

summary; Leon takes you for your 12 week scan, but nothing is ever as easy as that.

warnings; SFW, pregnancy stuff, doctors offices being generally just uncomfortable.

word count;  3,086 this was meant to be a nice little short one as a break because we're getting deeper into the story now. Also just wanted to clarify for timeline reasons that this takes place in January considering it’s the 12 week scan lol

links; part one, part two , part three, part four, part six,part seven, part eight

moodboard <3

tag list; @mbrickswrites @z3r0o0o @leonskennedymybadassbabyboi @kimchi3174 @alikkatz @whoisthisdlva @sleepyamaya @typical-ukraine @b4tm4nn

comment to be tagged in the next one!! <3

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who almost never picks up your daughter on time for their weekends together, but always promises to make it up with Daddy-Daughter dates, mostly to the mall or teaparties at home.

"Daddy got busy this weekend, pretty girl... But I promise we can have a tea party with Mr. Dino as soon as I see you, alright?"

That was almost always his excuse when you'd call and put your little girl on the line with him.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who almost never has child support in on time, even though it's a relatively low amount since you decided to have a bit of mercy on him in court.

"Look, I'll get it to you as soon as I can, doll. Just got a little sidetracked this week with a few jobs."

The same thing he always said when the $80 for the week was due. But you always caved and gave him a few extra days, even if you knew it was because he blew it on new gear for his patrols and missions.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who won't let your daughter come over to his apartment right after a mission because he has to lay low and doesn't want to put her in danger.

"Daddy went on a last minute trip, baby girl... I promise he'll take you the next time he goes somewhere, okay?"

The same promise you always made when she gave you those doe eyes and got teary over missing Jason after a long mission

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who you have to plan sleepovers with because they almost always happen to end up on one of his weekends.

"As long as she's happy, it's fine. Can I pick her up on Monday? I can ask B for the night off and drop her off at daycare in the morning."

Jason tries his hardest not to show just how hurt he is whenever his daughter and you have to cancel plans on him, but you see right through it every time.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who you invite over for a couple of drinks on the nights your gorgeous girl is out for a sleepover at a friend's or your family's.

"You didn't have to invite me over, y'know... I'm fine on my own, really. But I appreciate it."

His famous last words before the both of you end up tipsy and handsy with eachother for the rest of the night.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who you're not really sure just how you ended up underneath after only a few drinks and a friendly chat.

"Look at how that tight pussy pulls me in... Almost like you're begging for another baby. That what you want, gorgeous? Me to fill you with another one of my babies?"

He still watches you take a Plan B the next morning, though. Neither of you can handle another child just yet, especially while just hooking up after months of minimal contact.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who falls for you all over again after a few of those nights filled with drinking and the sound of skin on skin.

"Thanks for inviting me over, sweetheart... I'm sorry if I overstayed my welcome."

Of course he didn't. You knew exactly what would happen as soon as your daughter asked to go to a sleepover, and you didn't regret it one bit.

Maybe Jason wasn't so bad, after all.