Stories About Fathers Novels & Stories

I was supposed to be dealing with it, not falling apart every time someone asked me how I was doing. Harper seemed to understand that I wasn’t going to answer. She didn’t push. Instead, she asked, “Tell me about your father.” I took a breath. “What do you want to know?” “Anything you want to tell me.” I thought for a moment. “He was funny.” A small smile appeared on my face before I could stop it. “He thought he was funnier than he actually was.” Harper smiled too. “He’d tell the same stories over and over. Even when everyone had heard them already.”

I trailed off, not quite sure how to say the words delicately. “Fucked?” She bit the words out without a trace of anger or jealousy. Laughing at the surprised look on my face, she just shakes her head. “Honey, I have been on this earth for a long time, and in that period, I've seen a lot of crazy things. Your father sleeping with an underage girl is not the first.” “So you're not bothered?” I asked, a bit relieved to be talking about this with her. We've never even acknowledged what Dad did, or Brittney, or the whole event.

“Of course, Gnapika. What is it?” “Why are it just the two of us? What about our family? And what happened to Dad? How did he die?” Meera took a deep breath, setting her fork down as she prepared to recount the story she had told many times before. It was a tale she had crafted carefully, a blend of truth and fiction meant to shield Gnapika from the painful gaps in their history. “Your father was a brave man,” Meera began, her voice soft and steady. “He was in the army, serving our country with honor and courage. He loved us very much, even though he never got to meet you.”

"Hayden, out uptown. You are trying to distract me; I want the story." "I'm not. If you want the story, then I will tell it to you when you are on top of me. That or nothing." I squirmed "Fine, tell me." I had a feeling he was looking for a way to avoid telling me the story, but I was not going to give him one. "Fine, Father believed that my mom was cheating on him with her best friend from behind, and one time they had quarreled was on her way back to him, but she died before she could do so."

“Oh yeah, because nothing captivates a pup like self-glorifying war stories.” “You’re just mad because mine are better,” Dad shot back. Johanis cooed softly, shifting slightly in Harley’s arms as if sensing the oncoming nonsense. I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Dad, if you traumatize my son with your stories of decapitated enemies, I swear—” “I wouldn’t start with those ones,” Dad grumbled under his breath. I groaned. “Oh please” But before the King of Suits could try to bribe their grandson with tales of battle and bloodshed, Johanis made another executive decision.

“Since you aren’t willing to talk about your story, why don’t you listen to mine?” “Your story?” “A story I heard about. Are you interested?” Olivia nodded. “Yeah.” “There was once a father. His wife died at a very young age, so he raised his son alone. He was very strict and harsh with his son and never smiled at him. Most of the time, he would scold him or reprimand him. As time passed, the son started to hate the father, and the only thing he wanted was to get rid of his father once he grew up.’

“My father was demanding, not very demanding. I take it all as grooming to be an Alpha.” “Or just hate because your mother loved you more.” Ralph joked. “My dad told me once your dad but hurt you, your mom locks him up.” I smiled. She was Alpha anyway. “Not how I remember it.” I denied even if I knew it was true. “Maybe you don’t. I never saw it either. My dad did have many stories like that though.” Ralph sighed again. “I hope to be a dad someday.” My smile fell off my face. Of course he’d be a father someday. “Could you spare yourself the unnecessary worry? You’re still young.”

Once upon a time, I guess that is how they start a nice fairytale or some romance story. My father never missed the chance to tell me about his love story when I was a child. From his story, it was clear that he loved my mum so much and dad pampered me a lot. Twenty-seven years ago, at a nice and lovely coffee shop, the weather was beautiful and bright, two souls from parallel worlds met, my mum and my dad. My dad was the dreaded Mafia boss, commanded respect from everyone, including from rich families and politicians, everyone was scared of him. At his sight, everyone trembles and bows.

Vincent asked. “Sorry for what?” I said, resting a hand on my still-flat stomach. “He made his bed. Now he has to lie in it.” “You’re right.” Vincent leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “The past is past. We have to look forward now.” I closed my eyes, feeling the warm Mediterranean sun. In my heart, I spoke to the sky. Dad, you can rest easy now. Your daughter is happy. A gentle breeze rustled through the olive groves, as if my father was answering me from beyond. And here, on this ancient land, a new chapter for the Moretti family was just beginning.

“Three times today, princess. Filled this tight little cunt while he was texting you like a worried puppy. He was right outside that door, and you were in here naked, legs wrapped around Daddy, whimpering as I came inside you again. How’s that feel, baby? Knowing your man’s hunting for his sweet girlfriend while she’s dripping his father’s load?” “Oh my god, Adrian—Daddy—shut the fuck up! You think that’s funny? your son—was right there, banging on the door while you fucked me. What if he heard us in the shower? What if he pushed in and saw me like this—naked, marked up, pussy swollen from your cock? Fuck, he’d lose his shit, call me a cheating whore, and you’d be the one explaining why his