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eyescenario21 · 7 years ago

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Riku, Yamato, Mizumachi, Kongo Twins, Kurita, Hiruma, Clifford, Juumonji, Ikkyuu father headcannons/reaction to daughter bringing home first boyfriend and their s/o tries to calm them down.

Kaitani Riku:

At the top of Riku’s wish list, was to have an armory that matched if not surpassed Hiruma’s impressive warfare collection [he also wanted to be taller but you can’t always get what you want]. He was staring down at the boy with the same intensity that Gaou stared at his prey.

“Riku,” you chided softly, elbowing your husband gently. The grip on his chopsticks only tightened. Your daughter shoved herself lower into her seat while the boy sat sweating bullets. “So…” you smiled tightly, “Do you like any sports?”

Riku sat up a little straighter, attentive.

“No, Kaitani-san,” the boy stammered underneath Riku’s gaze.

Your daughter looked at you pleadingly. You frantically searched your mind for another topic because Riku’s stare was turning worse than murderous. “Um…Oh! What—What are some your interests?”

“I… basically like staying inside,” he admitted easily, oblivious to Riku’s growing blood lust. “I like playing video games and reading; I write short stories in my pastime.”

“Out.”

“Dad, please.”

“Riku, no.”

Unfortunately, despite the height difference and the words of the people he loved most, Riku already had his hand on the boy’s collar and was dragging him out the door.

Yamato Takeru:

Yamato seemed somewhat calm during the dinner, smiling pleasantly if not forcefully. The boy spoke politely and answered when questioned but failed to notice the fact that the football player was practically stabbing his chopsticks into the home-cooked food.

“Takeru, please,” you huffed to your husband quietly. You smiled warmly at both your fidgeting daughter and the unaware boy beside her. Yamato’s posture relaxed and your daughter sighed in relief—maybe her dad wouldn’t kill the boy.

Unfortunately for the poor girl, her chosen boy had decided her parents were really chill and made a bit of an obvious flirty pass at her with a hint of sex on the side. You tackled the boy out of his chair as Yamato nearly broke the table in half in his attempt to gut the teen with his chopsticks.

Of course, you were insulted by the boy’s innuendo but that didn’t stop you from poorly attempting to save the boy’s life. You didn’t know what you would do if Takeru ended up in prison.

Mizumachi Kengo:

Of all the dads of the former Team Japan, Mizumachi Kengo liked to think he was by far the coolest. Like, legitimately.

His little girl’s boyfriend thought so to. To him, Mizumachi-san totally had the surfer vibe with his attitude, blonde hair and tanned skin. To the teenager, he really had that “go-with-the-flow” kind of attitude.

“Kengo,” you whispered as you reached up to cup your husband’s elbow, because of course, of course, Mizumachi Kengo picked the cutie that was nearly as short as Sena. (You were more than proud to say you were taller by a full five centimetres!) “Don’t scare the boy off, please? _______-chan seems to like him very much.”

Kengo waved you off. “Don’t worry so much! I’m not going to eat him alive! Besides, he’s not big enough to count as a snack!”

Your daughter and her boyfriend made identical strangled noises. You facepalmed.

Kengo was still a stickler for height details.

You kinda felt bad that _______-chan brought home a boy that was just a tad shorter than her, but she should’ve known considering how much Kengo made fun of you.

Kongo Agon:

I really don’t see this fucker having kids, I am so sorry.

Agon had always, always, always been a possessive bastard. Always.

While sometimes his possessiveness was too overbearing—near abusive—when the two of you had dated, he had toned it done a lot. Mainly because you threatened to leave and it seemed he actually cared about you enough to change his egotistical and unreasonable ways. You were pretty certain Unsui nearly had an aneurysm when he saw the change in his brother’s behavior.

While he wasn’t so possessive of you nor unreasonably overprotective, this didn’t transfer over to your daughter.

She really was such a beauty—and such a sweetie too!

(Hiruma had questioned whether or not she was actually Agon’s daughter which, suffice to say, pissed the man off. A lot.)

To you, it was a no brainer that she would attract boys like flies to honey.

Agon, was less than enthusiastic.

Which was why he was currently burning a hole through the fidgeting boy that was seated beside your daughter. The football player hadn’t said a word, leaving all the questioning to you. You were more than satisfied by his chattering answers, he really was a nice boy.

Your daughter certainly had better taste than you.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Startled, you looked at Agon that was sporting a gaping mouth and his eyes gleamed with hurt? I am hallucinating, you thought.

“What did I say?”

“Are you implying that this—this trash, is a better choice than me? Fucking Kongo Agon?”

“Oh, that,” you sighed, stealing your husband’s sake from him. “He’s nicer, actually has some manners and doesn’t have an ego thrice the size of his genitals. Overall, yes.”

Kongo Unsui:

He cannot be worse than Agon.

That was Unsui’s mantra the whole week leading up to the dinner where he and his s/o would be introduced to their daughter’s boyfriend.

Boyfriend. Ugh, he was disgusted by the word, especially mentioned in the same sentence as his precious little girl.

“Unsui, stop brooding,” you commanded, bumping him with your shoulder. You had set the table, cleaned and cooked all while your husband was dead to the world due to his brooding.

The man grumbled and straightened his clothes, standing up. You nodded in approval and gestured for him to get the food in the kitchen. “_______-chan should be in in a couple of minutes with her so-called boy—“

“Don’t say it.”

You laughed at his disgruntled expression as he marched off. Suddenly, the front door swung open along with the clinking of keys and amused laughter. You heard Unsui let out a strangled, pained moan.

“Okaerinasai, _______-chan,” you smiled at your daughter and turned to the boy at her side. “And you must be—“

Cue screaming. Screaming as in the girl about to be murdered in any horror film.

“Unsui?!”

“Dad?!”

Both you and your daughter rushed to your husband’s side on the ground. He had landed on his tush, spilling the tonkatsu—you half-wanted to kill him for that—when he had fallen. your husband’s wide fearful eyes were focused on your daughter’s boyfriend. Specifically, you realized, the teen’s hair.

“Unsui—”

“Why does he look like Agon?!”

“…Dad, are you fucking with me?”

The poor boy simply stared as your daughter cursed profusely—something she had gotten from Agon—while you chastised your husband like a child.

“First of all—“

Kurita Ryokan:

The gentle giant was so nervous the night of the dinner, someone would have thought he was the boyfriend meeting the parents.

“Ryokan, stop worrying,” you soothed. “You’re an amazing father and you and I both taught our daughter to always respect her self-worth first; there’s no way she’s going to bring home some asshole that’s going to take advantage of her.”

“It’s not that!” He bawled, and you stepped back in shock and exasperation. “What if he doesn’t like me? What if he thinks we’re boring? What if he convinces her to move in with him because he doesn’t like us?! We’re going to lose ________-chan!”

You rolled your eyes at his cries.

You really loved the man, you really did. But he was a bit too much of a worrywart at times. And emotional. Very emotional.

“Ryokan, breathe.”

It was good thing you had about six hours before your daughter came back from school with her boyfriend. That was just barely enough time to settle your husband down, change, and cook.

“Ryokan, if you don’t stop crying, he’ll really think you’re lame and we won’t have anything to eat too.”

He wailed.

Hiruma Yoichi:

Your husband glanced over the boy dismissively, nodding then sticking his hand out for a handshake.

The boy, so naïve, breathed a sigh of relief, took your husband’s hand in his.

You and your daughter simultaneously sighed.

“So, _______-kun, right?” You cringed and your daughter clasped her hands as if in prayer. The boy nodded, moving to pull his hand away but was stopped by the demon’s iron grip.

Yoichi pulled the boy uncomfortably close, examining him in a way that made the teen feel as if he was some sort of amoeba. “You don’t look like a boy that wet his bed until just last year.”

“What?! How do you—“ The teen blushed and stammered, looking at everyone with angry red cheeks.

“Yoichi, please.”

“Dad….” your daughter whined. “You said you’d be nice.”

Your husband cackled that signature laugh of his, not too gently ushering the mortified and terrified teen into the dining room.

You glanced at your daughter, disapproval on your face. “_______-chan, haven’t I taught you that: ‘the Devil is liar.’”

“Mom, it’s not my fault I have him as a dad, it’s yours.”

“I don’t want to hear that from the girl that literally wrote hymns for him.”

Clifford D. Lewis:

Suffice to say, dinner was very awkward.

Whenever your husband had looked at your daughter’s boyfriend, he had instantly looked away. The look was so dismissive, so uninterested—the teen must have been embarrassed, no, beyond mortified. You couldn’t help but feel bad for the boy but Clifford tended to have that effect on people.

You glanced at your daughter who looked absolutely miserable.

Your heart squeezed. She probably knew Clifford thought she had chosen trash. Clifford’s opinion meant everything to your little girl too, as much as it pained you to admit that she was a daddy’s girl.

With a sigh of frustration, you set your cutlery down and looked over at your husband. With a raised brow, he did the same in a much more composed fashion. You jabbed your chin in the direction of the young couple, your lips twisting into a frown.

Clifford glared back defiantly.

Ugh.

“________, right?” the teen nodded jerkily, surprised etched on his face. Your daughter raised her head in a mix of hopefulness and fear. “You’re very quiet, I’m sorry, have we made you uncomfortable?”

“Oh, no Mx. Lewis, it’s just I didn’t want to bother you and I was unsure if your family really talked during dinner. I didn’t want to disrupt your schedule.”

You smiled, your daughter hesitantly mimicking the action while your husband’s stare bored into the your temple. “That’s a very mature and considerate of you. I wished there were more boys like you when I was your age.”

If the muffled giggling and glare you received from your family were anything to go by, you successfully lightened the mood.

Although, Clifford would certainly get back at you for that jab at him—he hated being made fun of, especially when he was being compared to someone younger (and, therefore, to him, dumber).

Juumonji:

Okay, but why did your husband have to bring in Toganou and Kuroki?

You didn’t know who was going to die of embarrassment first, you or your daughter. Your husband and your daughter’s godfathers had marched in, or in reality, slammed, through the front door just minutes after the young couple had walked in.

The smiles and bright mood had disappeared with the intensity the three Ha-Ha Brothers radiated.

And why the fuck was Kuroki fingering the handle of a metal baseball hat? And had Toganou actually brought a rusty bike chain?

The poor boy your daughter had brought home arm-in-arm was sweating bullets—so much so, you were sure you’d fill Hiruma’s armory thrice over.

Your poor little girl looked like she was going to burst into tears, whether from embarrassment or anger, you didn't know.

But you did know what to do in the situation.

It would be the last thing you’d do before you started pushing up daises.

“What are you three idiots doing?”

“Hah?”

“Hah?!”

“HAH?!”

“Don’t you use that shit on me, Ha-Ha Brothers! Kazuki, what the actual fuck do you think you’re doing—“

Ikkyuu:

Ikkyuu counted himself a very lucky man. Very.

He’d married the oni cutie from uni, and had an even more oni cute daughter.

He was blessed, he felt, twice-over.

“Ikkyuu, are you going to be okay?” You asked, lightly putting a hand on his shoulder as he sat in the middle of your living room and meditated.

While he couldn’t quite get the act, or really appreciated it in high school, he had learned to do both in uni. It had helped him relax before mid-terms, finals and games. Meditating had become a habit to do before something he found stressful or made him nervous, like your wedding or his first job interview.

But you hadn’t seen him meditate since your daughter started school over a decade ago.

Your husband didn’t respond—he was likely in a deep meditative state. But still, you persisted.

“Ikkyuu?”

You turned when he didn’t respond to you, intent on finishing the final touches before your daughter and her beau arrived—

“I’m ONI not okay!”

“Ikkyuu?!”

“What if she leaves to be with him?! I’m going to lose my daughter!”

“Ikkyuu—“

You tried to grab your husband’s hands away from his hair as he moaned and groaned, thrashing as he did so, about your daughter’s boyfriend.

“What if he’s like Agon-san?!—Not like there’s anything wrong with Agon-san! But my daughter—“ he bawled.

“Ikkyuu!—She’s my daughter too!”

“He’s not going to appreciate an oni cutie like her! She’s once in a hundred years!”

“...I don’t know whether to be offended or insulted.”

“I mean look at her! My baby’s so gorgeus! Man, if there were cuties like her when I was her age—“

“Ikkyuu, you sick fuck.”

“Eh?! Wait—________! Stop!”

And that was the scene the young couple walked into; you balancing on Ikkyuu’s shoulders, knees digging into his neck as you yanked at his hair while he yelled and cried for you to stop, even trying to shake him off.

Lmao, I really don’t think the boys would change very much from high school. Especially Clifford.

Also, I read somewhere that the gender neutral term for Mr., Miss, and Mrs., was “Mx.”. I can’t remember the source but that is what I remember it as. If someone would like to correct me on it, feel free to do so.

I’m sorry if it’s not gender neutral enough.

Also, whoever sent this, you took great advantage of the no character limit or specifications pertaining such. I am so proud. Tired, but proud.

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