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#Father Daughter fluff
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can i request a hotch x two-years-old-daughter!reader? i could totally see her begging her dad to let her wear her pink, poofy princess dress when hotch has to take her to work with him. but while hotch is busy, she manages to wander off. she then meets spencer (i imagine this takes place when spencer’s just starting with the bau) & immediately clings to him lol. she’s just very giggly, bubbly, cuddly, & LOVES to play with his hair. & poor spencer is just so confused but is endeared by her nevertheless. & then hotch finally finds her & is relieved. <3
sorry it’s so long! love your works!
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Aaron Hotchner X Young Daughter reader
Request: can i request a hotch x two-years-old-daughter!reader? i could totally see her begging her dad to let her wear her pink, poofy princess dress when hotch has to take her to work with him. but while hotch is busy, she manages to wander off. she then meets spencer (i imagine this takes place when spencer’s just starting with the bau) & immediately clings to him lol. she’s just very giggly, bubbly, cuddly, & LOVES to play with his hair. & poor spencer is just so confused but is endeared by her nevertheless. & then hotch finally finds her & is relieved. <3
I do love young Hotch daughter who is completely opposite to her dad. Around season 1, Hailey is alive and just had Jack.
Third person pov...
Hailey smiles as her Husband runs around after their hyperactive 2 year old, little Y/N Hotchner was a ball of sunshine and energy.
The 2 year old was excited she had a baby brother and loved to play with him, though she loved playing with her Daddy even more.
Currently the little ball of energy was running around the house away from her Dad who was attempting to put her in her clothes, she was going to work with him for the day.
The little girl was only half dressed as she ran before the man could put her trousers on, giggling she shouts "no daddy!" As the man almost grabs her, a smile on his face.
Still chasing the girl, surprised at how quick she was for a tot, though he wasn't running more like in slow motion, wanting the chase to last a little longer, it wasn't every day he got to do this with his daughter (besides he had time before work started)
From the living room, Hailey watches her Husband and daughter with a smile on her face as she held her sleeping baby, Jack was sound asleep as if nothing was happening.
As they make another loop around the house Aaron stops and hops into the doorway of the living room, back pressed against the wall, Hailey watches her husband as he made a shush motion.
"Daddy?" Calls Y/N as the tot ran past the room, a confused look on her face and she looked for her dad. Poking her head around the door she looked at her Mum. "Where daddy?" She asks a pout on her lips.
Hailey fails to hide her smile as her daughter was grabbed and thrown upside down, giggling madly Y/N yelled to be let down. "Daddy! Let go" giggling even more when her tummy was tickled.
"Never, now its time for naughty girls to be dressed" he tells his daughter smiling wickedly as he continues to tickle his daughter, the H/C girl only wiggled in his grasp.
"No no daddy, wanna wear princess dress" yells the tot, Aaron stops his attack and looks at his wife. Hailey only shrugs her shoudlers.
Ever since her birthday Y/N loved one gift in particular, it was a beautiful poofy princess dress her parents got specially made for her.
She loved wearing it every time they went out and was always careful to keep it clean. Hotch sighs of course she would want to wear it to his work.
Looking down at the sad puppy look hisbwas getting he gave in. Hanging his head he stood up Y/N in his arms.
"Okay, Princess dress it is" he declared, dramatically, while bouncing the little girl in his arms before walking upstairs with a happy Y/N "yayy" cheers the young girl.
Finally ready to go Hotch grabbed his brief case, his lunch and Y/N lunch. As he headed for the door he called for Y/N the little girl eagerly bouncing over to him as he helped her put on her light up shoes.
"Ready princess" he asks her, Y/N gives him a huge gumming smile. "Yes Sir Daddy!" She saluted him before hugging her Mum and baby brother before leaving. "Good luck" Hailey whispers as she kisses Aaron.
When they arrived at the FBI headquarters Hotch pulls his daughter aside. "Now N/N, I know your excited, but I need you to stay close to me today okay? The office is busy and I don't want you to get lost" he explains to the girl.
Y/N smiles and hugs his neck giggling. "Yes Daddy! I be good" she smiles, Hotch pats her head a smile on his lips. "Thank you N/N" the two Hotchners then walk into the busy building.
And what a pair they made, Hotch in his usual suit and red tie combo, his stoic expresson on his face. Y/N in her pink poffy dress with light up shoes waving and smiling at all the agents she sees.
Once they get to the bullpen, Y/N is introduced to the team who are all excited to meet the young girl. Soon Hotch is busy in his office mountains of paperwork to go through.
On the floor lays Y/N, the young girl had grown bored it staying in the office. She had drawn lots of pictures, played with her toys. Now she wanted to explore.
Getting up from the floor she walks over to the door and opens it quietly, giggling silently she squeezes through the gap and is now free from the room.
Giggling she runs around the bullpen looking at all the desk and the members of her daddy's team, one person stand out to her, that's person being Spencer Reid who had jsut recently joined the BAU.
Walking up to thr agent she grabs onto his pant leg and shakes his gaining the surprised Dr's attention, looking doen and the girl dressed in pink spencer gives her an awkward smile.
"Hi..?" He says Y/N grins up at him. "Hi! I'm Y/N" she tells him proudly. Spencer is taken aback how smiley Hotches daughter is.
"I'm Spencer, nice to meet you Y/N" he says, before Y/N holds her arms up to him, Spencer was confused before realising she wanted to be picked up.
Nervously looking over to his bosses office he picks the girl up and sets her down on his lap, Y/Ns smiles brightens as she was held by the young man.
The brown haired man was surprised again when the ball on energy on his lap twisted around so she could koala hug him, pressing tightly to him Spencer hugged her back.
" your nice" came a muffled voice pressed to his chest, Spencer let out a surprised laugh at that making Y/N erupted into giggles all over again.
After hugging spencer the H/C tot began moving around as he tried to work, afgwr wriggling a bit she finally settled behind him, half sitting on top of his chair and half holding onto his back.
Y/N happily played with the agents hair as Spencer worked, he was slowly getting used to the girl spending time with him.
As this happened a very worried Dad was panicking in his office trying to find his daughter, after going through everything in his office Hotch threw open his door and stepped down the ramp into the bullpen.
Morgan stood from his desk as he saw the worried expression on the man's face. "Woah woah, what's happened Hotch?" He asks the worried man.
Shoulders shaking Aaron explained he couldn't find his daughter anywhere, instead of helping Derek just laughed and pointed.
Following his arm Hotch breathed a sigh off relief as he saw where Y/N had got to, smiling he watched his daughter laugh and play with the young doctors hair.
He was glad she was okay and made a new friend. Quickly taking a few pictures he sends them to Haily who messaged back just a quick. "Some one made a new friend" chuckling he responded. "I think they both made a new friend"
Putting his phone away he went back to his office, happy to leave his daughter in his agents capable hands.
The end!
Hope you liked this oneshot sorry for the wait! Sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.
Requests are open!
Word Count : 1375
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giulscomix · 10 months
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Give this man some happiness, I beg you ❤️💙
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colourstreakgryffin · 2 months
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Hiii! Can I request headcanons on what vox would be like as a father of a teen daughter? I feel like he'd be great to gossip with and would tell her to slap any boy that hits on her
Vox absolutely fucking would do this, and he is that type of girl dad to loudly brag that his Princess is cuter than every other father’s! Vox be like: ‘You wish your daughter was as cute as mine’
Vox- Baby Laptop
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Vox is extremely doting and loving but extremely protective. Like, he has cameras and drones following you, his fourteen year old human life and demon life daughter, around all the time. You can’t leave the tower without him knowing and he won’t condone you walking around Hell without ALL his bodyguards escorting you
Vox is a bragger. He brags and he flexes what he has so when it comes to you, he is one-upping every known mother and father in the Pride Ring and flaunting his precious babygirl with no hesitation. You’re beautiful and Hell deserves to bask in your presence… according to Vox
Remember, your dad is the technology Overlord. The one in charge of every device in this city, so of course, he is kept to date with everything and he always gives you the latest models his slaves team create. He spoils you since it’s a symbol of his love
Vox is basically your best gossip buddy and no matter how busy he is, he’ll make time to talk to you. Call him, he’ll answer and whilst he works, he’ll listen to you and he remembers it. He has a good open ear and a good sense of ‘fuck you all’ so he’ll get rather into your gossip pieces and consider asking Velvette to spread them through her social media influence
Vox is more than capable of getting sweet, soft and emotive with you. He always proclaims to you, with his whole heart, that he puts you out because he’s proud of you and adores you and he wants you to have everything when back on Earth, he could barely give you anything
Yes. Vox loves you MORE than he likes messing with Valentino so if Valentino dares to hit you, your father is bolting across the room at mach speeds to make his on-and-off boyfriend regret putting his hands on you. You’re his spoiled little princess and nobody touches you! You’re too valuable!
Vox has a picture of you in his wallet and in his suit pocket. So, whilst he is working tirelessly throughout the days and hasn’t seen you in a while. He’ll pick either photograph out and admire it. Both are direct recreations of photographs he owned when both of you were humans
Like Carmilla Carmine with her two daughters, Vox likes to have you occasionally work for him and occasionally means occasionally. Vox only cares that you’re happy so if you want to spend all day everyday in your big fancy room in his tower free of stress, he lets it!
However. Vox, of course, teaches you important life skills. He didn’t get a chance to when both of you were humans on Earth so he is now. Every night, he teaches you to cook recipes, he teaches you to do basic chores, he teaches you how to balance any money you earn
Vox almost views you as the cute babygirl he had back on Earth. The little five year old that was so happy to see him come home after so long of working so hard as a TV salesman in the late 1940s. The little girl who needed him to go to sleep at night, the precious darling who claimed she’d grow up and become a saleswoman too!
Vox does baby you and he doesn’t regret it. He coodles, he snuggles, he baby talks, he coos. He does all of it because he loves you dearly, you’re the single thing that drove him to become a Overlord, you’re the single thing that motivated him to become one of the strongest Overlords in Hell, you’re the single thing that even brought him to work with technology
Vox had always taught you; ‘if a boy or a girl hits on you, slap them’ and that became your norm. You come home, Vox asks what happened and you tell him. He is always happy to hear that you don’t let anybody bother you
The only criticism or advice Vox will take for his products is you so when you say something doesn’t work or needs improvement. He takes it and throws it as his workers so they can fix up what you said. He doesn’t care what his clients think, he cares what his own flesh and blood thinks
Vox loves how you have his TV head and even gets you to wear a matching outfit with him as a cute father-daughter joke. He likes it, it’s adorable. You look like such a badass business lady! He is that type of dad that will embarrass you with how much he loves you
Talking about a father-daughter situation, Vox has the weekends booked all for you. Two father-daughter days out so you two go to the shops, get drinks, gossip more, talk shit about Alastor, go egg the Hazbin Hotel, get some shopping then go to visit the Vees to chat then pick up a movie suggestion to go watch a movie together! Vox loves these days since he is truly himself with you
Vox legit has you in his contacts as the following; ‘My precious darling princess’
“Darling, Princess. It’s time to wake up, we’re going out together! Yes. To the movies and to the shops. I heard that old timey prick is in a Hotel so let’s go egg it once we’re done, ‘kay? Great, I’ll be waiting for you, pumpkin”
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bet-on-me-13 · 1 month
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Spy X Family AU
So! Jack Fenton is a Super Spy/Scientist who is working on a mission to investigate Amity Park. The Government has put an Information Blackout on the entire Town, so he has been assigned to infiltrate the town. When he discovers that the town is contaminated with Ectoplasm, he asks to stay there to study the Stuff.
Maddie Fenton is an Assasin who used to work for the League of Assasins, right under Talia, before she deserted the League and ran away. She ran to Amity Park because of how secluded it was, and began working as a Mercenary Assasin to make a living. She is also a Scientist who discovered Ectoplasm and wanted to study it because it reminded her of Lazarus.
They meet while studying Ectoplasm and use eachother to cement their Cover Stories (and get a new study partner).
Jazz in the child Jack adopted from a nearby Orphanage so he could blend in with a "Normal Father" Facade. She is a Liminal with Telepathic Abilities who knows everything about the other two, but keeps it a secret because she wants to psochoanalyze them. Her real parents are unknown, but that's what's fun about making your own AU, you can mess around with it.
Danny is the dog.
Just kidding, Danny is actually a Hybrid child between a Human and a Ghost who was left on Jack and Maddies doorstep as a Kid. They understood what he was immediately and took him in so he wouldn't be taken and experimented on by the GIW, pretending that he was a normal kid (and forgetting to tell him that he is a Ghost to begin with)
He doesn't even know he is a Hybrid for a while, until an accident in the Lab when he is 5 results in discovering his Ghost Form but thinking he just straight up died and brought himself back. Oh and he can see the Future sometimes, just to throw that in there.
I wonder who the Ghostly Father of this Hybrid child who can see into the future and is very powerful? Surely not the Ghost who deals with time and is also very powerful? Sure, absolutely impossible...
Anyways, thoughts on the AU?
(More context in the tags)
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late-nightfalls · 4 months
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Think about Bruce Wayne trying to do his little girl's hair before she goes to school.
The girl wanted a pretty braid or she wouldn't go to school, no way!
Bruce has no idea how to do this. He's in trouble!
Alfred is not participating! He can't!
Alfred can only watch from afar as Batman faces one of his biggest challenges: Brushing his daughter's hair.
"Boss Bruce, maybe you should ask for help"
"Negative"
He asked for help shortly afterwards.
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sketchingstars03 · 6 months
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”You are always safe with me”
the autism™️ was begging me to draw more of these two I can’t help it
also hey my sketch bg is different now
ink sans by @/comyet
teeny sploot by me
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yourmomxx · 11 months
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Family Line
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father of mine masterlist
summary: the hunt for the monster starts. We find out what happened all those years ago between Dean and his daughter.
warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, descriptions of blood, descriptions of murder, this is written like an episode of Supernatural
word count: 8,5k
a/n: we did it, guys! this is the last part of the father-of-mine series. I’m really sorry about the late upload, but I do hope it was worth the wait! This might be the ending of this series, but not quite the ending of the story … thank you all so much for sticking around and supporting this story, sequels and prequels about dean and his daughter will definitely come!
pt1 pt2 pt3
Sioux Falls 2007
It was late at night, and in Bobby Singer’s Junkyard, the lights were still on. Accompanying the chirping tunes of the cicadas, a fading pop song from somewhere in the ‘70s was trailing out the windows.
On the small wooden table in the kitchen, Dean and Sam Winchester had spread out a multitude of lore books found in Bobby’s bookshelf, some worn out, some torn, and Sam was currently leaned over a particularly ugly-written paragraph dedicated to the magical use of a pan’s flute.
“Dean, I can hear you being silent.” Sam raised his head to look his older brother in the eye. “What is it?”
Dean shrugged, threw a look at the numerous variations of old books about supernatural creatures laid out in front of them, then at his little brother.
“You’re overworking yourself, Sammy,” Dean pointed out. The keyboard clicked as he typed something on the laptop.
“Dean, we’ve been over this,” Sam said. “I’m just trying to find a way for you to not die. You can’t exactly blame me for that.”
“Yes, exactly, we’ve been over it,” Dean countered. “And I told you there’s no way around it. I made a deal, that’s it. Period, no refunds.”
Sam clenched his jaw. “Well, I don’t want that to be it.” He muttered under his breath.
Dean opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself when they heard the sound of tiny footsteps over the floor.
Dean perked up and turned his head.
“Hey, my little love.”
A while ago, the soft tone in his brother’s words would have caught Sam completely off guard. By now, he was already getting used to the way Dean’s eyes had a different look in them – one of pure love – and he spoke with a softness as if his words alone should wrap their recipient up in satin cloth.
Sam turned around to look at who Dean was talking to, and was not surprised to see a small girl trutting towards them, little legs still uncoordinated after only just waking up. Her small fists were rubbing her squinted eyes, the light in the living room must be blinding her.
Y/N made her way over to Dean and made grabby hands up at him.
Dean chuckled and picked his daughter up under her arms, placing her carefully on his thigh as she nuzzled into his dark flannel shirt.
Sam smiled at the contrast of Dean’s shirt, and her bright yellow children’s nightgown with the washed out Led Zeppelin-logo printed on.
Dean’s big hand was rubbing circles on her back, as he craned his neck to bow it down to her.
“What are you doing awake so late, sweetheart?” He hushed.
Y/N nuzzled her nose into his neck. “’d a bad dream,” she mumbled.
Sam could see the emotion cross over his brother’s face for a brief second as he made eye contact with him.
They both knew that this could – would – happen. That little girl had been through so much already, at her young age, had seen and lost things no child should ever see or lose.
They both had known that nightmares would probably eventually start haunting her, but yet, they had still not been prepared for when it was the time.
Dean didn’t know what he should be feeling, his daughter had had a nightmare, and all he wanted was to wrap his arms around her, keep her there, and kill everything in her way to becoming happy.
But he knew he couldn’t do that. And that’s why he wanted to, so much more.
“Really?” He asked instead, hand not leaving her back. “Do you want to tell me what it was about?”
“Everybody was leaving me,” Y/N sniffled, small fist rubbing her nose. “You, Auntie Ellen, Jo, Uncle Sam, Grandpa Bobby.” Another sniffle.
“I was all alone.”
Dean felt like sobbing. A heavy weight had latched itself on his heart. Oh, his little girl. How much he loved her.
“Sweetheart, it was just a bad dream,” he promised to her. “We are not going to leave you alone, I swear.”
Y/N pulled her face from the crook of his neck and looked up at him with red rimmed eyes.
“Pinky promise?” She asked.
Dean lifted his free hand and linked his pinky finger with hers. “Pinky promise,” he said.
Something told him he had made a mistake. But he couldn’t care right now.
Still, he felt like a liar.
“Now,” he said, a conspiratorial tone in his words, “What do you say we get you back to bed and I stay until you fall asleep, hm? How does that sound?”
Y/N didn’t fuss long about it, she just nodded her head and nuzzled closer to him.
Dean understood the silent command, and lifted her into his arms as he stood up. “Alright. Let’s go.”
Sam looked after them as they disappeared up the stairs. Now alone, he turned his attention back to his research. Why he was reading everything about the dog Cerberus right now, he couldn’t quite decipher, but he was grasping onto every straw.
A few minutes passed by, and Dean was still not back. Another few, another few.
Sam frowned as he looked at the clock on the wall. 5.13 in the evening. Sam realized now that the clock was broken.
Curtly, he stood up from the table and climbed the stairs to the bedrooms.
The door to Y/N’s room was open, hiding the colored sign she had written her name on (with Dean’s help) to inform everyone of her territory.
Careful to be quiet, Sam stepped closer to the threshold, peeking into the dark room. A dim night light in the form of a crescent moon was burning on the nightstand. In the bed laid a small bundle of blankets and stuffed animals, which Sam could only guess was Y/N.
Next to her, holding the girl in his arms, Sam spotted Dean, probably holding on for dear life on the edge of the narrow bed.
Sam smiled at them.
Through the silence, a soft, hummed melody reached Sam’s ears, and he perked up.
He knew that song from somewhere, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Na-na na na. Nana na-a.
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Dude, are you singing her Smells like Teen Spirit?”
Dean looked at him, grinning. “Yeah. It’s a classic.” As if it was the most obvious thing in the world and Sam was the stupid one.
“I mean, look at her,” he said, his gaze shifting to his daughter again. “She’s gonna be a badass one day. Right? One day, you’re gonna be as badass and cool as your daddy.”
Oh yeah, that girl was out like a light.
Sam just shook his head chuckling. “All right, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
Dean didn’t answer him, but he knew he heard him.
A few minutes after Sam had left, currently sitting at the kitchen table again, starting a new chapter of the same book, Dean came downstairs.
Wordlessly, he took his seat across from Sam, and pulled one of the lore books closer to him.
And though he had an idea where his brother’s new sense of determination came from, Sam didn’t say a word when Dean started reading.
༺。° ୨❀୧ °。༻
Now
When you called, for a brief second Sam was worried that Dean was gonna crash the car. The way his face morphed into shock, concern and then anger, while he was talking to you on the phone had his little brother worried.
After you hung up, Sam pretended not to notice the way Dean pushed further into the gas pedal.
The first rays of the morning sunlight made their way over the hills, when Sam and Dean arrived at the Group Home. Dean didn’t bother with a neat parking maneuver, and just turned the motor off, then made his way with fast steps over to the castle.
Sam trailed behind.
They had no problem entering the building, Maria had given them an official key card for their investigations. Dean stormed down the hallways with a fast step, as if he had memorized the entire way by heart.
Sam wouldn’t blame him.
You were sitting on your bed when they came in. Or more, cowering there.
Sam was all too familiar with the look of disturbed terror in your eyes, even when you firmly avoided looking at either of them.
“Y/N?” Dean moved a step forward, stretching his hand out towards you as if to soothingly touch your shoulder, but hesitated in his movement and pulled away.
Sam threw him a worried look that Dean didn’t seem to catch.
“What happened?”
Your fingers were continuously drumming against your knee pulled close to your chest.
“’d a bad dream,” you mumbled. Sam could hear the fear in your voice. Dean sat down in your chair opposite the bed.
“When I woke up, there was …” You swallowed and hardly squinted your eyes. “I don’t know what it was. Looked like two yellow … eyes.”
Sam couldn’t help the disgusted twist his face made at the word. He couldn’t imagine waking up to something like this.
Dean exchanged a look with him. Your story confirmed their theory even more.
On the bed, you had gone quiet again. Your fingers were still drumming an uneven pattern on your skin.
This didn’t make sense. This didn’t make sense. She was dead, Cass was dead. Roy was dead. Dean Winchester was here. He left you, and now he was here, but not for you, no, but for Roy. They were all dead.
And you were next.
“Have you ever heard of an alp?” Your head snapped up as Dean’s question pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts.
“An Alp?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “I mean - yes, I came across that lore when I was still taking German literature.”
“You took German Literature?” Dean regretted his question as soon as he asked it.
“Yes,” you answered, but something had shifted in your tone. It was low and pressed. Shit. He knew he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. Sam felt like smacking his brother across the head.
“So you know what they are?” He asked instead, and you shrugged, looking at your feet again.
“Yes, well, I know that the Germans believed that an Alp would sit on their chests while they slept, and it would feed on their good dreams - plaguing the sleeping person with terrible nightmares. That’s why they used to have shortened beds, because if they weren’t lying down, the alp couldn’t sit on their chest.”
While you talked, realization hit you like a brick. Or more like a huge wave, rather, if the feeling of being violently ripped of all air was anything to go by.
“Oh my God,” You breathed out. “Cass and Roy both had nightmares before they died.” You looked between Dean and Sam with shock-widened eyes. “This Alp thing was the reason for all of this, right? I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”
“Not if we have a say in it.” Dean’s jaw remained stoically clenched as he spoke his promise.
“What did you dream about?” Sam asked.
You ducked your head even further into yourself and picked at the skin next to your nails. “’s it important?”
“It could be.”
You took a deep breath and bit the inside of your cheek. “Same as Roy,” you simply said. “Worst day of my life.”
And, okay. Sam didn’t get into college for being slow, he knew exactly what day that was. And judging by the brief flicker of emotion crossing over Dean’s face, he knew, too.
But he didn’t address it and only cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Look, if it really is an Alp – which it probably is – then we already know how to get rid of it.”
“We would lure it into a trap. You know, get us some … bait and then just –“ Dean symbolically dragged a finger across his throat.
You raised your eyebrows in concern. “And how do you think that’s gonna work?”
Admittedly, this hadn’t been your smartest moment, but given the circumstances you were in, you figured you could be forgiven.
Sam dipped his head. “That’s where you come in.”
“You can always say no,” Dean carefully offered. “If you don’t want to do it.”
You lifted your chin in the air. “This thing is the reason two of my best friends are dead,” you said. “I want to pay back the favor.”
Sam nodded. “Alright then.”
“So you guys got a plan?” You asked.
Sam and Dean exchanged a look and Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, we do.”
It was loud in the cafeteria. It always was. Today, though, you were especially aware of it, because most of the noise was heavily directed towards you.
Or rather, about you, which had just the same effect in your opinion.
You had barely entered the big room and had already felt a few dozen eyes fixated on you. The whispering had started when you got closer to the buffet, and the occasional double-take and looking-fast-away-when-she-is-looking had continued when you had sat down.
Of course, how else should it be, you had been given the rehearsed “My condolences” or “I’m so sorry for your loss”.
Long story short, to you it felt like the day of Roy’s death all over again.
Except this time, they were serving pasta, and not chicken with rice.
It was days like these (which, in your opinion, had been happening far too often over the past few weeks), that made you hate this place even more. It’s not like you had had a reason for that before, the supervisors were nice, so were the helping staff and, of course, Maria.
Maria, who had taken you under her wing from the first day you arrived here. She had acted like a mother towards you, the one you had never had, no matter how hostile you had acted towards her.
Still, as you grew older, the whole thing felt simply more washed out and sickening.
Maybe this really was just a side effect of puberty, as your gynecologist had said.
As you let your gaze travel over the many familiar faces, you couldn’t help but notice that Finn wasn’t under any of them.
Finn, your beloved Finn. You then suddenly remembered the text conversation the two of you had had the other night. Before, well – everything. You still needed to stay true to that.
Silently, you made a note to yourself in your head, to drop by his room straight after lu-
A broad silhouette squeezing into the seat opposite you blocked your view over the hall, and your eyebrows shot up as you realized who it was.
“Uhm, hello?” You asked as Dean folded his hands on the table.
“You told everyone I was dead?” He asked, purposely skimming over your question.
You frowned and opened the small package of parmesan. “Well, aren’t you? About six times?”
Dean frowned and you caught him counting something under his breath with his fingers.
You shook your head, making a point of ignoring him and poured sauce over the dry spaghetti.
“That’s not even my point.”
“What, you’re saying you didn’t barge into the middle of my lunch – after the night I had – to scold me over the inaccuracy of your death rate?” You clicked your tongue. “Surprise.”
Dean apparently didn’t deem it necessary to address your sarcastic tone. That, or he knew just how much he deserved it, which you were fine with, either way.
“Look,” he started, and Jesus, this was going to be serious. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened last night.”
Confused, you tilted your head.
“I mean about the dream,” Dean quickly added. “I mean, we both know what it was about, and I just …” He cut himself off, cleared his throat, and let out a short breath that was probably supposed to be failed attempt at a laugh.
“I’m not a big … talking guy, you know? But I just … I always told myself, if I ever had kids, that I would be different then. That …” He stopped again.
“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”
You scoffed. “You’re a bit late for that,” you spat. “I mean, it’s been what, almost a decade? ‘Sorry’ travels far, but not that many years.”
“I know that,” Dean said, “But I want you to know, that-“
“Well, I don’t want to know!” You interrupted him. Maybe too loud, if the simultaneous turn of heads was anything to go by. “I don’t want you to tell me anything. No excuses, no explanations, I want, and I need absolutely nothing from you, you understand?”
Dean bit the inside of his cheek.
“Believe me, I do.” He said. “But still-“
“No!” The dishes clattered as you slammed your hand on the table. “Dean, you don’t understand! You just left me here, at this orphanage –“
“It’s a group home.”
“Same thing, Dean!” You snapped. “Just a fancier word.”
Dean carefully pulled his hand away from the table, folding it with his other in his lap. You could feel him watching you, but you consequently avoided his gaze.
“Look, I’m not gonna have this conversation right now,” You decided. “I am going to go talk to my best friend, and when I go to sleep, I’ll try not to get killed! So goodbye.”
And with that, you picked up your still full lunch-tray, dumped it on one of the cleaning wagons, and made your way out of the cafeteria.
You never turned around to see Dean looking after you.
༺。° ୨❀୧ °。༻
St. George, Louisiana 2012
Dean Winchester was standing by a window. Through the clean glass he had a clear view of green gardens, well-kept flowers and trees leaning in the soft breeze of the wind.
Further away, he spotted the tall hedge walls of something that had to be a garden maze.
“I hope you know just how grateful I am for what you and your brother did for me.”
The voice of Maria Whitlock lifted Dean out of his thoughts, and he turned around to face the older woman.
She spoke in a soothing tone, one that reminded him of a mother he never had, but learned to long for.
Dean nodded. “That’s our job.”
Maria gave him a look and tilted her head. He was standing in her office, a neatly tidied room with a shelf for books and files, and a rather expensive looking desk. Very clean as well.
“What you decided to do was probably very hard,” she continued. “But I can assure you, in most cases, it turns out to be the better option for both parties.”
He didn’t like the way she talked about his plan like it was a good thing, when it wasn’t. It didn’t make him a good person for doing it.
“I’m sure, Dean, that there will be a lovely family out there who will take care of her –“
“No, no, no, that’s not what I meant.” He quickly interrupted her. It was the first time in here he had spoken more than for words. “I don’t … I don’t want someone else to take her in.”
Maria raised her skeptical eyebrows at him. “Do I understand correctly, Dean?” She asked. “You want her to just - stay here?” And her tone was implying exactly what she held of that idea.
“Look, I know how that sounds.”
“I really hope you do.”
“But my job doesn’t allow me to properly take care of her. When Bobby was still - well, she stayed with him, and we visited her from time to time.”
Maria nodded. “I understand. But what you have to understand, is, that this will surely not be easy for her. Whereas many of the elder children indeed do live here, the younger ones are usually adopted by a foster family who can take care of them. Who can love them,” she added.
Dean looked out the window again.
“I understand that,” He said. “But this is how I want it.”
He couldn’t see Maria behind him, as he was turned away from her, but he could well sense the way her observing, maybe judging gaze was burning between his shoulder blades.
“Well, then.” She sighed.
And as Dean watched the flowers dance in the wind, listening to Maria shuffling through her papers, he couldn’t help but think that this might be one of the most selfish decisions he has ever made.
Soft wind was tugging at Dean’s hair. Somewhere in the distance he was aware of the rippling water of a small fountain.
Dean tried to not actively think of what he was doing here. Of the consequences his actions would inevitably cause. He knew he wouldn’t be able to bear it.
Y/N’s hand was holding his in a strong grip, as they walked up to Maria and he greeted her.
Maria leaned down to be on eye level with his daughter and smiled at her.
“Hello Y/N, it’s very nice to meet you. Your Dad has told me so much about you! I’m sure you’ll settle in here just nicely.”
Dean crouched down and placed both his arms on Y/N’s for her to look at him. She had been eyeing Maria and the castle suspiciously.
“Look at me, sweetheart,” he started. “Maria is really, really nice. And because Uncle Sam and I have to work so much, she is going to take very good care of you.”
Y/N averted his eyes and stared at her shoes. Then, sh burst forward, slung her small arms around Dean’s neck and buried her face in his chest.
“I wanna go with you,” she mumbled into his jacket. Dean sighed. With a heavy heart, be broke out of the embrace. “I promise I’m old enough, I want to go with you!” She pleaded again. With every word, Dean’s heart shattered just a bit more.
“Look, you remember when you stayed with Grandpa Bobby for a while when me and Uncle Sammy had to work?” She nodded, sniffling.
“This is gonna be just like that. I promise.”
Y/N sniffled again. Then she held out her hand to him. “Pinky promise?”
I promise that we’ll be fine.
I promise that we’d never just leave you alone.
I promise that Grandpa Bobby will be alright.
Dean pulled Y/N into his chest again. He breathed in deep, as if that would somehow help him savor this moment, savor her to be engraved in his brain to never forget. His little girl, the only thing good and pure in his life.
“Have fun, sweetheart,” he said when they broke apart again.
He stood up, and even though he wasn’t that old, everything in his body hurt at the movement.
“But I don’t know anyone here!” Y/N said again. It has been her go-to argument the entire car ride to the castle.
“I want to go with you and Uncle Sam!”
“Y/N!” The sharpness in Dean’s tone felt like it was cutting him. “I said you can’t.”
Her bottom lip started to tremble, before a big tear rolled down her cheek. Then another one, and another one, until she was full-on sobbing.
“Please, Dad!” She cried, and Dean’s heart shattered.
Behind her, Maria put a caring hand on her shoulder.
“Come on, sweetie, say goodbye to your dad.”
Y/N violently shook her hand off her body. “No! No, I don’t want to go with you! I want to stay with my dad!”
Maria and Dean exchanged a look. In her eyes, he recognized something that told him to change his mind.
It took everything in Dean to turn around and walk away.
He fixated his eyes on his car a few feet away from him. He wasn’t walking very fast, but with the weight that felt tied to his feet, it was the best he could do.
Behind him, Y/N kept crying. And as she was pleading and pleading, for him to come back, for him to stay, the feeling of realization started heavily sinking in, that he was really waking away.
Not only from this situation, from his daughters cries, but from her. From his child.
His feet felt even heavier.
When he reached the car door and opened it, he didn’t feel anything. Everything happened in a haze. He vaguely registered starting the car and pressing his foot on the gas pedal.
His daughter’s sobs were still replaying over and over in his mind like the sounds of a broken vinyl, as the naked road flew by the dirty windows.
Sam didn’t address the single tear that rolled down his brother’s cheek. And Dean just kept driving.
༺。° ୨❀୧ °。༻
Now
Since forever on, you had never been quite good with your emotions. Portraying them, talking about them, feeling them.
It was an obstacle.
Looking back at it, you figured it was probably somehow running in your family, the whole being emotionally unavailable thing.
Could that be inherited? According to your biology teacher, yes, but you didn’t know how well you believed that.
Nevertheless, as you knocked on the cold door that was the entrance to your - only left – best friend’s room, emotions welled up in your throat as choking as a tidal wave clashing its weight over your head.
It was dark in there. The curtains had been pulled closed and the thick material wouldn’t let a flicker of daylight in the room.
A smell hung over the entire place, of stale air and leftover food, and the sensation of hopelessness. Finn was sitting on the edge of his bed, a dark silhouette staring crooked at his hands in his lap, only illuminated by the weak light of the bedside lamp.
Without properly acknowledging him, you took quick strides to the other side of the room, and without further ado, ripped his curtains open.
The sun was already lowering down the horizon again, but the leftover light was still enough to turn the dark silhouettes in the bedroom into concrete shapes, of dirty plates, glasses, and clothes scattered all over the floor.
From his place on the bed, Finn groaned lowly, like a small bear being awaken from hibernation.
He rubbed a hand over his eyes as you sat down next to him. The bed dipped under your weight and you moved over a few study sheets that laid on his duvet.
“Hey,” you said.
Finn dropped his hands into his lap again and turned his tired gaze on you.
“Hey,” he said back.
“You wanna talk about it?”
Finn’s eyes tiredly scanned the room around him, the mess it was in, and then shook his head.
“Nah.”
“Alright.” You weren’t, really, but that conversation could wait until another time.
“How you holdin’ up?”
Finn tilted his head to you in a way that said ‘Ain’t it obvious?’ and you shrugged in response. “Stupid question, got it.”
Finn sighed.
There was a silence building between the two of you that you didn’t like. You kept yourself from fidgeting impatiently on the sheets.
“I just-“ Finn cut himself off and ruffled his hand through his hair. “Ever since – well, yesterday – I’ve been thinking about …”
He broke off again, blinking with his face towards the ceiling to avoid the falling of tears.
“Y/N, the last thing I said to her, was – we fought.” Finn’s confession was almost a whimper as he looked at you, awaiting your reaction.
Your heart broke at the look in his eyes, so clouded full with guilt and self-loathing, you almost didn’t recognize him.
“Oh, Finn, she loved you.” You sighed, and placed a gentle yet firm hand on his arm. “She knew what you were going through, what we were all going through. And trust me, she never, not for a second, held it against you. That was one moment out of almost ten years we all spent together. It didn’t mean anything, not in the long run.”
Finn sniffed and rubbed his nose, diverting his gaze to his hands again.
“Finn, she didn’t die hating you.” You put emphasis on every word as much as you could, because you wanted him to hear you, to understand, to believe. You didn’t want to let him wallow in his own self-destructing thoughts about something that wasn’t even true, not in the slightest bit.
Finn just hummed, but didn’t meet your eyes, just kept them trained on his lap. You sighed and let your hand slowly slide from his arm.
For a while, it was quiet again.
“My father is here,” you then blurted out.
Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “The one that died?”
“Yeah.” You weighed your head. “In my defense, I thought he died too, until he showed up in a fancy suit, investigating my best friend’s murder.”
The typical phrase of ‘seeing gears turning in someone’s head’ was the only way you would describe what you were seeing displayed on Finn’s face right now, just before the realization hit him.
“Wait, your father’s one of the hot FBI agents?”
You pursed your lips and nodded.
Finn blinked in disbelief.
“Wow,” He breathed out.
“Yup.” You said, popping the ‘p’. “Just got a lot less hot, huh?”
Finn raised his hands in surrender and shook his head. “For my own safety, I’m really not gonna answer that.”
You let out a laugh and playfully shoved him with your shoulder.
“Idiot.”
Finn grinned. “You love me.”
You hummed. “You’re right, I really do.”
A long while later, the door closed behind you again with a click.
Finn had to promise you to get in touch with you if he felt the need to, and to at least try and keep his room in order. After a brief conversation of how his view of himself and his ‘need to call you’ was very different from yours, you had hugged him and decided to leave.
Before you had walked out, your hand had rested on the handle, and you had turned around to Finn, not quite looking him in the eye.
“You know I love you too, right?” You had said. “No matter what happens.”
Finn frowned, but if he got suspicious, he didn’t mention it. “I know. Same here.”
You swallowed and nodded.
Then you left the room.
Now you were standing outside of his door, gaze drifting into the distance, and the same weight that had been lifted off your shoulders replaced by another one, just as heavy.
Funny, how, even if indirectly, saying your Goodbyes, made the lingering presence of death looming over you like a dark shadow much more real. If only one thing went wrong tonight, then-
You shook your head at the thought. No, Sam and Dean were going to take care of it, they promised. You had to put their trust into them with this.
But if tonight really was it, then you were content with the feeling that the last conversation you had, had been with Finnegan Beckett.
The walk back to your room stretched longer than usual.
--
Sooner than you would like it to, the sun disappeared behind the hills and night reigned over the land.
Sam and Dean were standing in your room, rehearsing their – honestly, pretty vague – plan with you, making sure you knew exactly how everything would go down. To be fair, you didn’t really play a big part in the whole thing, but it was nice having some sort of reassurance.
“Alright, so you know what to do?” Sam questioned once again.
Slowly, you nodded your head. “Lay still and look pretty,” you joked. “And try not to get killed.”
“Leave that last part to us,” said Dean. “You don’t have to worry about anything. By the time you wake up, everything will be over.”
You nodded.
You had seen it in Dean’s eyes, that he wasn’t all in with the idea of using you as bait, but you had done it nevertheless.
You weren’t a little child anymore, especially not his, he wasn’t going to decide what you wanted or not wanted to risk.
You took a deep breath that lifted your shoulders and huffed it back out. You were going to do this. It was easy.
Like hell it was.
Whoever told you you had the easiest part of the plan had been fucking lying to you. Turns out, sleeping is way harder with the knowledge of probable death hanging over your head like a dark cloud.
Every time your eyes slipped closed, a glimpse of doubt squeezed its way into your mind. What if Sam and Dean didn’t make it? What if everything went wrong? What if, in the end, you did die?
The sheets were already pooling crumbled by your feet when you slipped out of consciousness.
--
The mass of hot bodies pressing together and towering over you was clamming. A figure was running away from you, you were chasing after it. You smelt old leather and gunpowder. It made you feel comforted. You wanted more of it.
Gravel clattered underneath your boots as you got out of the car on your own, like all the big girls would.
“Look, Daddy!” But Daddy wasn’t there.
“Come on, I’ll help you.” There she was again, the nice girl with the black hair. She held out her hand and you went to grab it, her warm presence looming you in, and then the floor opened up under your feet and you were falling into nothingness.
--
Your heart pounded rapidly in your chest, as you startled awake in your bed, feeling your lungs tighten up and making it hard to breathe.
Your panicked gaze flew to the door of your room – wide open, the light of the hall casting a dim shadow into the room.
“Wha- Sam! Dean!” Hastily, you pulled the covers off your body and hurried out the door. Something must have gone wrong, terribly, terribly wrong.
You followed the sound of footsteps and scuffle down the hallway, turned the lights on where it had gone off at a few junctions.
Your breathing was still shallow, but you pushed through that and your still dazing mind, adrenaline pumping through your veins with every step you took.
Rapidly turning around another corner, you almost stumbled over the long legs of Sam’s body on the floor. You came to an abrupt halt and kneeled worried next to him.
“Sam? Oh my God, are you-“
Sam groaned and moved his head, eyes still pressed shut. “’s strong,” he babbled, and you tried your hardest to understand what he was saying.
By the way he was slurring his words, you had well reason to think he had suffered a concussion.
“It’s alright, stay here,” you ordered him, as he tried to sit up.
Only then, you first noticed the struggling noises a few feet away from you, and lifted your eyes away from Sam to check where they were coming from.
What you saw almost made your heart drop into your stomach.
Not that far away from you, maybe a few armlengths, was Dean, laying on the floor on his back just like his brother. But he was wrestling with something sitting on his chest, something small and hairy, hunchbacked like an old witch but only with the size of a cat.
The thing, which had to be the Alp, had long, bony limbs, and was fighting tooth and nail, hissing, biting and scratching, against Dean.
It reminded you of a gremlin, of sorts.
In your head, you heard Roy’s voice scold you, “There’s a distinct difference between all supernatural creatures. Elves don’t equal fairies, and gremlins don’t equal goblins, because while gremlins are fuzzy and cute in the beginning and only bad later when they turn, goblins have always been known for harassing humans.”
Alright, so no gremlin then.
Near you, Dean was still rolling around on the floor, fighting for the upper hand with the Alp.
Your heart sped up as you realized that something had to be wrong. Because why wasn’t he just killing it?
--
“So how do you kill it?”
Sam pulled something out of his duffel bag and turned it in his hands, the dim light of your lamp reflecting on the material. “Silver dagger dipped in vampire blood.” He spoke.
“Wait – vampires bleed?”
Dean scoffed. “This isn’t Twilight, kiddo. Yes, vampires bleed.”
You shrugged and inspected the phial he had laid into your hand. “I was thinking more of Fear Street, but alright.”
Dean ignored that he didn’t know what that was, but made a mental note to look it up later.
Sam stuffed the dagger back into his arsenal.
“You don’t have to worry about that part, though,” He assured you. “That’s what we’re here for.”
Dean nodded. “He’s right. You just dream sweet, and we’ll handle the rest. Fool-proof.”
You nodded, passing Dean the blood back. You could only hope they were right.
--
The shining silver of the dagger caught your eye. It had most likely been scattered away from Dean and landed near a wall, far out of his reach.
You took quick steps over to pick it up, Dean’s struggling grunts making you alert, and probably the reason why you didn’t think about what you did next, you just did it.
The silver dagger felt light in your hands, coated in the dark fluid of what had to be vampire blood. The blade reflected the clinical white light from the hallway as you lifted it up over your head, and, using the strength of both your hands, pushed it with force into the monster’s upper torso.
The squelching sound it made, as it penetrated bristly fur, skin, and organs, would later make you feel repulsed and gagging, sort of like nails scratching on a blackboard, but in this moment, you just clenched the dagger tighter and pushed it further into the monster’s chest.
The screech it let out could not be compared to any animalistic sounds you had ever heard before. In a swift move, you pulled the weapon out of the Alp’s body, and the small creature slumped to the floor right next to Dean.
You waited for a second. Two, three panting breaths. Dean was the first to move. He put a hand somewhere where the thing’s neck should be.
Then, swallowing in-between his hard breaths, he nodded. “Done,” was all he said. But it was enough for a sigh of relief to leave your tired lungs, and you sunk to the ground right next to him.
Looking closer at its lifeless body, the Alp had more similarity with one of those dead, stuffed animals that hunters hung in their houses as trophies. But maybe that was just rigor mortis.
Through your haze, you barely registered Dean clapping a firm hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him, eyes suddenly feeling heavy as the adrenaline was wearing off. Like sucking air out of a balloon.
“You did good today, kid.” He said, and though you were tired, in his eyes you could see that he meant it. It filled your chest with a warmth that hadn’t been at home in there since … God knows when, and it made you smile.
Near you, Sam staggered closer, still holding his hurting ribs, and tilted his head as he squinted his eyes at the lifeless Alp before you.
“Is it just me or does it … look like a cat?”
You and Dean both looked over at him, and then at the dead monster on the floor.
“Looks more like a gremlin-goblin hybrid,” You panted. “A gromblin.”
Sam threw you a look of pure confusion, while Dean was grinning proudly. You smiled back. It felt honest.
And very likely, it was.
-- It was quiet again.
From the fight and struggles a few days ago was no trace left, as you stood by your desk and sorted through some old photographs you had replaced on your wall.
The pictures you were sorting through mostly showed you, Finn, Roy and Cass together.
At school, at the movies, going out to eat.
You sighed and plucked some tape from the back of another one.
Right at that moment, a knock sounded from your door. Without even looking up from Cass and Roy smiling at you, holding a stray cat, you let out a “Come in,” at the person on the other side of the door.
The familiar sound of the hinges creaking signified the opening and closing of the door. And then, Dean Winchester was standing in your room.
“Uhm …” He was rubbing his neck awkwardly, as you looked at him expectantly.
“Hey. What’s up?” You asked, and put the photographs in a drawer.
Dean took a deep breath and looked at you. He wasn’t wearing the same casual clothes as he had been that terrible night, but had settled on his FBI suit again. Maybe for effect.
“Look, I was just-“ Dean fumbled for a second and then took a seat on the small chair that was standing around. “We should talk. This time for real.”
You tilted your head, and avoided looking at him.
Dean didn’t wait for any response, he simply kept talking. Maye rambling.
“I know I already tried, but it wasn’t my best, so I …” He sighed.
“I never explained anything to you. why things went down how they did. Y/N, please look at me.”
You had sat down in your deskchair, pulling your legs to your chest and now did your best to fix your eyes on Dean.
“What we do, the hunting … it’s no way to grow up for a child. I know how that is. And I never, ever, wanted that for you. I already had plans to end things sooner than they did, but then ..” He shook his head. “Didn’t work out. So, when Bobby died, I saw no other chance than to get you somewhere else. And I took that chance to just … remove you from my life, as hard as it was.”
“But I promise you, Y/N, it was all just to keep you safe. I never would’ve done it if there had been another way. And I wanted you to know that.”
Dean stood on his feet again and placed the chair back on its original spot. You looked away as he reached for the door handle, to get out of your life, again.
“So you’re just gonna leave? Again?” Your words were accusing and they were meant to be that way, but still you almost felt bad, as Dean dropped his hand by his side and let out a sigh.
“Like I said, it was for the best. Still is, in my opinion.”
“What, to remove me from your life again?” You jumped out of your chair, fury burning in your eyes and voice growing louder with every word you spoke.
“Y/N, you don’t get it-“
“No, you don’t get it!” You jelled at him. What was burning in your eyes were now more tears than anger, but it didn’t matter.
“For years, I’ve been trying to … to figure out what I did wrong. For years, I’ve been trying to do better, every day, I wanted to be better, because I thought —. I thought that if I had good grades, and if I started working out, and if I was always on my best behavior … I thought that you would come and get me. But somehow you never did. And I just … I don’t understand, I want you to tell me, what did I do wrong, what made you leave, because I swear, I’ll change. I’ll change, and I’ll work on it, just please…” A begging undertone accompanied your tear-choked words. “Don’t leave me here again.”
Wordlessly, Dean quickly crossed the room and put his arms around you. it took you a second to realize what was even happening, before you clung to his suit jacket, digging all your strength into it, as if the fabric was the only think that kept you from drowning in black water.
You felt the shadow of warmth, as Dean turned his head to press a featherlight kiss into your hair.
“I regret having to leave you.” He murmured next to your ear. “But what I do not regret is keeping you safe. Even if that meant leaving you.”
You sniffled, and pulled away from him. Dean’s own face wasn’t full of fresh tear stains, but still you could see the sincerity and something like sadness on his features.
You wiped your cheeks to clean them off the drying liquids.
“I’m older now,” You said, and Dean scoffed, already knowing where this was headed. “No, please, listen to me! I’m older, I can make my own choices, take my own risks. You saw how great I was a few days ago!”
“Yes, but that was one monster!” Dean countered. “Out there, there are hundreds of those things. We don’t get enough sleep, no nice food, not even nice beds! Trust me, Y/N, compared to this-“ he gestured around your room, “what we do has nothing on it.”
You shook your head. “But you’re together when you do it. You and Sam. And I just want that, I want to be with you.”
Dean sighed and took a step back.
“Please, Dean, I’m begging you!” You urged. “You said you never wanted to come back here, but now you had to, I mean – don’t you think that’s some sort of … sign or something?”
“I don’t believe in signs.”
“Well, screw signs, I’m here!” You pointed to yourself. Your voice was desperate, but so were you.
“I am here, and I want you to take me with you.” And in a whisper, you repeated, “Please, Dean, this time – let me come with you.”
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, Dean heavily sighed and pulled the chair closer to him to sit down.
--
The church bells were tolling a loud, fast tune. It was ironic, you thought, and you didn’t know if you should cry or laugh about it.
You watched as two dark caskets were lowered down into the earth, into two separate 6-feet deep holes right next to each other.
The gravestones had not yet been prepared, but you didn’t exactly need those anyway. If the huge pictures were any indicator on who was getting buried here.
This was your last time saying Goodbye. To Cass and to Roy, and, unfortunately, to the last one remaining.
Funerals weren’t for the dead, you had once read somewhere, they were for the living, for those seeking closure in their desperate times of grief.
You had thought it to be bullshit, what difference would a burial make in a journey of overcoming the loss of someone so important?
But, as you threw a full hand of dark earth onto each of the dark caskets, you somehow understood. It was one weight less.
They were still here, some part of them. Something you could always come back to, they hadn’t just vanished off the back off the earth. That thought was, indeed, comforting.
Damn life lessons that are right.
“Hey,” you suddenly heard a voice next to you, and were a bit surprised to see Finn standing there.
You had been too lost in your own thoughts to even notice him approaching. The lack of sleep probably didn’t help your attention skills much, either.
“Hey,” you answered.
“Look, I need to tell you something,” you started, just at the same time as Finn said, “I know what you wanna say.”
Both of you let out quiet laughs.
“You first,” He said.
You took a deep breath and avoided looking at him, scanning the gravestones before you as if you had known everyone buried under them personally.
“Sam and Dean,” you started, “I mean, they’ve been here for a while and honestly, I never even thought I’d see them again. So I never really thought about what would happen if they would just – show up, you know?”
Interesting, Peter Gravill only lived to be 57 years old.
“But now they’re here, and I just-“
“I get it.” Finn suddenly interrupted you. Your head whirled around so fast you were afraid you were gonna get whiplash.
At your confused look, he added, “I mean, if my parents suddenly showed up on my doorstep and gave me the option of going with them –“ he shrugged his shoulders. “-I would most definitely take it.”
Before you could even think about it, you already lunged forwards and wrapped your arms around his body, burying your face in his neck and holding him tightly.
The hot feeling of tears burned behind your eyes, but you managed to put them away. You pulled Finn even closer.
“Everything’s gonna be alright, kid.”
“You’re still younger than me.”
“I don’t care. I love you.”
“I love you too, Y/N.”
The hug lasted endless, but endless went by way too quickly. You fixed Finn’s suit jacket, apologized for the tear- and make-up stains you had gotten on the expensive material, and waved him a last Goodbye.
Down by the parking lot, a black car was already waiting for you, two adult men leaning against it. They had been watching the entire thing go down from a safe distance, not wanting to interfere in either the funeral, or the emotional Goodbyes.
Sam tried not to think about what laid ahead of them, or behind them, as his niece walked towards them, away from the graves of her best friends, and leaving the only one that was still alive, behind.
His niece. How long hadn’t he said that title, let alone thought it.
He liked the familiarity of it. The rightness.
Dean opened a creaking car door for you, as you reached them.
“You ready?” He asked.
Sam could see your shoulders tighten, as you lifted your chin, and looked his brother straight in the eye.
“Yeah.”
Dean nodded, and you got in the backseat. He slammed the car door closed behind you. With one last look at his younger brother, Dean rounded Baby and took his place as the driver, Sam claiming shotgun.
Behind them, you leaned your head against the window as the engine roared and you drove off.
The car smelt like leather and gunpowder. It made you feel comforted.
And in the backseat of an old 1967 Chevy Impala, listening to the music that was a mix of Metallica, Kansas and Billy Joel, you slept the best night’s sleep you had had in weeks.
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taglist:
@psycho-magnotheric-slime , @openmindedperson2200 , @emily-roberts
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abookloverlmao · 12 days
Text
When you’re lost in the darkness look for the light—
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warning: father-daughter relationship, mention of death, depression, school shooting, swearing, heavy topics, blood, kidnapping, reader is 19 years old or early 20s, family loss, trauma, ANGSTY!
My birthday passed and I miss my dad and love Price so here you have this angsty piece, grab tissues, you have been warned!
🤍
Price is a father- was actually.
Father of 10 year old Ruby who passed during a school shooting, did it take toll on his life? Yes... yes, it did.
Did he get married and have another kid? absolutely not. Always just a one night stand.
Price never thought he would have a kid, hell even handle one ever again after his was gone, his sweet Ruby– until.
A sarcastic and violent fourteen year old holding a sniper gun and hidden away from the world in a cabin a little away from the base that was attacked appeared.
At first like a pain in the ass but as times went by, she became the rest of his uncompleted soul, like the light in his dark life.
From being a smartass to him, to being a soldier under his wing.
And being a soldier under his wing means getting into trouble sometimes and getting yelled at by him, he didn't want to lose the one girl who like his Ruby.
After almost getting shot, she found herself in Price's office listening to his scolds, staying silent and moving the pen across the paper knowing better than to argue back.
“I know I ain't your damn dad, do I need to tell Ghost to always keep an eye on you because you can't take care of your own self?” He sneered causing her to stop and look up, giving him a frown.
oh…
it was always her saying that she knows he’s not her dad sarcastically just for him to retort back a “do you?” but she never thought it will be the other way around.
she stayed silent before opening her mouth to murmur a small “do you?” now that made him freeze.
His gruff demeanor softened a little but then hardened and he scoffed, running a hand through his hair.
“I…” he started, Price's brow furrowed, and he leaned back in his chair, massaging his temples, "Don't get all sentimental on me, kid," he grumbled, his tone gruff.
“I ain't got time for that shit. Just do your job and stay out of trouble, understood? you need to start acting like a grown ass,”
But despite his harsh words, there was a subtle warmth in his eyes as he looked at her, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had formed between them.
Y/N did nothing but nod and huff sinking back on her chair, “fine.” he glared at her, “understood?” he repeated again causing he to stand up and walk towards the door.
“understood, old man, but if anything ever happens to me then just to let you know I did it like a grown ass. I’m a woman now, ain’t asking for help ever again,”
Price watched her leave, a mixture of frustration and affection swirling within him. He let out a gruff chuckle, shaking his head as he muttered to himself, “Stubborn little shit,”
he knew she liked him too much to stay angry at him, hell he saved her ass too many times and she saved his soul, she always came back to apologize for being stupid but this time she did come to see him before heading out with a boy she met a year ago.
a fling.
Price met him, but didn’t trust him, hell he hated the thought of the girl he raised meet a guy- well at least he watched her grow and become a woman not like his… never mind, Y/N will always remain the sarcastic fourteen year old to him.
his little shit who called him old man.
his light when he’s lost in the darkness.
Y/N knocked, peeking in, “hey… i’m heading out with Alexei to the cinema, just came to let you know,” she said with a small smile walking towards his desk.
Price looked up from his paperwork, his expression unreadable as he met her gaze, “Going out, huh?” he grunted, trying to mask the twinge of unease in his chest.
Y/N nodded, her smile faltering slightly under his scrutinizing gaze, “uh huh, just thought I'd let you know,” she replied, her tone casual.
Price's jaw tightened as he studied her, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind, "Be careful," he finally muttered, his voice gruffer than usual.
Y/N's smile widened, genuine gratitude shining in her eyes, the childish twinkle he bought back after horrible shit with her abusive asshole of a family, “I will, cap. Promise.” everyone knew the; don’t promise something you can’t keep, rule.
As she turned to leave, Price couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled in the pit of his stomach. “and kiddo?” he called out, his voice softer now.
She glanced back at him, a question in her eyes.
“Come back in one piece, back to me, alright?” he said, the vulnerability in his voice betraying his tough exterior.
Y/N's smile softened, a flicker of sorrow crossing her features, “always do, old man,” she replied with the brightest grin, she then stopped by the door.
“hey John… look, i’m sorry for being a bitch with you earlier when you’re just trying to look out for me, and you know that I love you right?”
Price's heart skipped a beat at her words, a lump forming in his throat as he struggled to find the right response. "I know, kiddo," he managed to choke out, his voice thick with emotion. "And... I'm sorry too. Just... be safe out there, okay?"
Y/N nodded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I will, John. I promise." never break that rule kids. 
With one last glance, she disappeared out the door, leaving Price alone with his thoughts and a gnawing sense of dread that refused to leave him.
But despite his fears, he couldn't shake the feeling of love and pride that swelled within him for the young woman who had become like family to him.
“give me a call once you’re there!” he called back loud enough for her to hear and make her chuckle.
–•–•–🤍–•–•–
first call was right before the movie, Alexei said hello, but now it has been 3 hours with no response from her.
no movie is 3 hours… especially not Romeo and Juliet.. Price searched up the timing of the movie of course, his paranoia ate him alive, but then… it went to 48 hours of no news from her.
he looked everywhere for her, yelling for the cops to search for her and his crew, driving around and hacking her phone just to find it in a car abandoned in an alleyway.
not a sound, not a sight of her, she just… vanished– no way was his Y/N running away, she was happy with him, Price can feel himself losing his sanity minute by minute, cops looked everywhere around, his crew asked, searched, he looked even in the woods under the rain.
until 71 hours later, 2 days and 23 hours later… he got a call from a random number, Price stopped his crews and put his phone on speaker, “hello? kiddo? is that you?” he started but was cut off by ragged breaths, like someone was shot in the lungs or was badly hurt.
“dad?” she started between heavy yet rapid breaths, “Y/N?” Price's heart raced as he listened to her ragged breaths. “Where are you? Are you okay?”
for the first time she called him dad and it wasn’t in a sweet way, it was filled with fear like her life depended on it.
Price's voice shook with worry as he waited for her response, his crew hanging onto every word, “I’m in trouble, Dad,” Y/N gasped, the sound of fear evident in her voice. "I don't know where I am... They took me... I'm scared."
static can be heard in the background like shuffling causing him to wince and push the phone away from his ear.
Price's mind raced, his hands trembling as he clutched the phone. “Y/N, stay calm, baby girl, We'll find you. Tell me, can you see anything around you? Any landmarks?”
Y/N's voice was strained, “I-I don't know... look, Alexei is with the Russian gang, he’s a spy, he has always been- I shouldn’t trust him, hack this phone, and his real name is Dimitri Smirnov, was in jail for 3 years because of “you” apparently, I managed to knock him out but please for the love of god…” she took a deep breath, oh so shaky, it’s like her soul was slipping away by the second, after each inhale.
As her voice trembled through the phone, each word seemed to carry the weight of her suffering.
Her breaths were ragged, shallow gasps punctuated by the sound of her struggling lungs. Pain dripped from her voice like blood from an open wound, seeping into the airwaves with every strained syllable.
well she was bleeding from the side, hell she was bleeding all over in this random ass cabin freezing to death and holding her side for dear’s life at the corner with his phone in hand as Alexei laid unconscious– or should she say Dimitri, hell she couldn’t even move to kill him, the chains did hurt like a bitch.
“I want to go home… cause i’m fucking bleeding out and I don’t know if I’m living, please Price, please… just..”
yeah she’s dying, definitely dying…
her essence fading like a flickering flame in a gust of wind, voice trailing off in the distance same way her essence did…
The static in the background mingled with her gasps, a cacophony of agony and desperation that echoed in Price's ears like a haunting melody.
he won’t forget this- ever, whoever in the heavens listening to him and watching over him seemed to like the sight of his suffering, hell he knows he won’t ever forget those ragged breaths of hers.
it will haunt him for the rest of his life.
“come take me home,” her voice cracked with anguish, the weight of her words bearing down on Price like a heavy burden. It was a slow, agonizing descent into darkness, her lifeblood draining away with each passing moment, leaving behind only the hollow echo of her pain.
with that the line cut off, Price barked orders, tracking down her phone, and as soon as Gaz found the location they were off.
a haunting location, a house in the middle of the woods, burning from the inside.
Price froze, but then in a second, he raced towards the back of the house where the fire still hadn't reached the spot, kicking the door with all his force with his men behind he could feel his heart hammering as his eyes moved around in desperate search of her.
as soon as the door opened a sharp whiff of smoke hit his face, causing his eyes to squint and become watery, he coughed a little but that didn't stop him from moving in, calling out her name.
but then Ghost called him from one of the ends of the hallways, "hey cap! You might wanna see this!" he said through his mask causing Price to walk towards the man who pointed at the chains on the ground leading from the kitchen all the way through the fire and to the attic room.
Price's heart sank as he followed the trail of chains, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have happened to her. The flames roared behind him, threatening to engulf the entire house, but he pushed forward, determined to find her.
fine running through fire was a stupid idea but he wasn't burned or caught by the fire surprisingly, instead, he walked down the stairs but Ghost was quick to catch up stopping him from doing anything crazy when the door to the attic room opened.
"get out of my way, lieutenant," an order.
"let me check first," was all Ghost said before the masked soldier reached the entrance to the attic room, it wasn't locked... Simon took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he might discover inside, preparing for the worst.
gun in hand, the other reaching to push the door so slowly so he could sneak in just in case the "killer" might be by the door ready with a gun or a knife or even a brick.
however, the scene before him sent pure fear through his veins, horror gripping him alive, the room was dimly lit by the flickering flames, casting eerie shadows on the walls but the air was heavy with smoke and the acrid smell of burning wood.
and Simon was never one to be easily shaken.
he even forgot to point the gun around just in case of an attack, his eyes landing on the body in the center, empty eyes staring right back at him, barely blinking.
Ghost wanted to throw up, for the first time ever after millions of missions, he wanted to throw up at the sight, not at her... but the state she was in.
On the ground, beaten so badly, covered in blood from head to toe that he couldn't even recognize her features until his eyes landed on the earrings, twinkling, but with drops of blood still.
his breath hitched the more he took her in, the once nice shirt she wore ripped at the sleeves and top, barely warming her up, a hand chained while the other was on her side, ankles on the other hand both were chained keeping her from moving.
a bloody golf bat by her head, the hair she straightened, now curled and damp, spreading around and dirty thanks to the thick pool of blood— a bloody golf bat by her fucking head- the fucker had beat her to death until she was paralyzed with a fucking bat, not only that, but she was either shot or stabbed to the side.
her breathing- oh her breathing was- ragged, her cheek pressed to the ground and eyes staring right at his slowly losing the sparkle of life, slowly, god he couldn't imagine the excruciating pain she was in if her eyes were still open.
tears racing down the side of her face, pushing some of the drops of blood away.
Ghost's heart clenched with a mixture of rage, sorrow, and helplessness, and finally, he knelt down beside her, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch her cheek, feeling the warmth of her fading life, blood coating his gloved fingers as soon as he reached for her.
The weight of the situation bore down on him, and he struggled to breathe, his body shielded her face from Price who would probably drive himself to madness if he saw her.
his daughter-
"Stay with me," Ghost whispered, his voice choked with emotion, "We're here now. We'll get you the help you need. Just hold on. Price is here- John's here..."
she tried to open her mouth and whisper something but only her fingers twitched and her lips parted, words turned into nothing but rough breaths.
"Lieutenant?" oh shit- oh no what should he do, Price was calling out for him, what should he fucking do? no response. he just.. stood and took a step back.
Price frowned, eyes moving to his gloved hand, a drop of blood, thick and so red landed on the wood, but when Simon didn't respond to his call only stared at the body.
He moved to the side, but then his breath caught in his throat, eyes widening in disbelief and horror they almost popped out. His mind struggled to make sense of the unimaginable truth before him.
It was his little shit lying there, battered and broken, her fragile form barely recognizable beneath the blood and bruises. The world around him seemed to blur as he fought to comprehend the magnitude of the atrocity committed against his precious girl.
Every fiber of his being screamed out in agony, and he felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest.
and he moved, running to her side, collapsing on the wood, and reaching for her, taking his sweet Y/N in his arms, he held her against his chest and he swore he could see the way her eyes lit up as soon as she was in his arms.
Price could barely recognize her features, so he reached a shaky hand to brush her hair away from her face and with his sleeve, wiped the blood away carefully without hurting her even if it was painful even holding her, she didn't wince, but just stared, relaxing in his arms, breaths still fast but they slowed down as her fear evaporated like it was never there.
and she opened her mouth, mumbling the tiniest, "Hi old man..." Price almost sobbed at that, tears threatening to spill, yes he was emotional, for fuck's sake, "Hey kiddo... you're fine, just, try to talk to me we'll get you help," he whispered holding her, supporting her head like she was a baby instead of an eighteen-year-old woman.
He reached to push the strands of curls that clung to her bloody face, revealing a glimpse of her delicate smile. It was a bittersweet sight, pain, and fatherly love together.
With a trembling voice, Y/N managed to utter a few more words, her words barely audible, but Price leaned in closer, desperate to catch every syllable.
"come on, captain, scold me, it's better than this look," she whispered between ragged breaths, her voice weakened by the ordeal she had endured, tears streamed down Price's face as he listened to her brave words.
He couldn't fathom the depth of her courage and resilience in the face of such brutality. His grip tightened around her gently, as if trying to transfer his strength to her fragile form.
"I'm not scolding you at all, kiddo, never again," he said, he promised– as if that would make her stand and heal.
it won’t. it certainly won’t.
her vision grew blurry, the body heat slowly vanishing and colder then ice, black spots surrounding her vision, she didn’t know what to say.
"you’re my home, old man…" she whispered feeling her eyes flutter on their own, she wasn’t controlling her body, Price noticed and tried to shake awake talking about how she shouldn’t leave him or whatever, she couldn’t hear a single thing as peace slowly washed over her.
with weak knees she pushed herself using her tiptoed closer so her face in buried in his arm and his scent greets her into a warm embrace.
"no no no no- kid. stay awake," she would’ve laughed, joking about how he gives her orders even when she is on the verge of death.
"you’re my kid… you’re my home," he whispered both to her and to himself, so he doesn’t lose his sanity, to convince himself, he shifted so he will hold her in his arms into the tightest hug while her body is growing limp.
her breathing were ragged and as soon as he shifted and held her head against his shoulder, holding her head, it slowed down… and then stopped.
just stopped.
Price was frozen, heart shattering into so many little pieces, "Y/N? kiddo?" he asked shaking her a bit but as he glanced to the side, her eyes emptily staring up, lifeless, twinkle no longer there, no breathing escaping her mouth or nose, lips parted, head falling back, he knew.
his Y/N was gone, his sweet baby girl, in his arms, her bloody hand holding on his sleeve like it always did loosening and falling limp on her side.
Yet another soldier, yet another daughter vanishing from his arms and his life like a dying light, like a dying star, like dust in the wind.
well that’s life… ups and downs. never make promises you can’t keep kids.
Never
***
I hope you enjoyed it guys!! edit is shit but the story ruined me! please let me know what you think🤍
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tervaneula · 3 months
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"Otousan?"
There's a tug on Yuichi's sleeve and he puts down the vegetables he just got done washing before turning his head to look over his shoulder.
"Oh, kitten, is something wrong?" he murmurs, brow furrowing at the sight of his daughter's concerned gaze. Hana is visiting him in the Hidden City and he's aware that something has been bothering her – he hasn't asked about it yet, hoping that she'd open up about her worries in her own time.
Maybe she's ready now.
"Not really, I just…" Hana stops, chewing on her lip before letting go of Yuichi's yukata and stepping closer to hug him from behind instead. Yuichi decides to halt his dinner preparations for the time being and leans into the embrace.
"...are you happy?"
Yuichi startles. He didn't expect to be asked that.
"I am. Is that what you've been worried about?"
The calico squeezes him tighter for a moment, then sighs.
"Have I been that obvious?"
Yuichi chuckles and rubs the back of his head against Hana's ear. "Nope, it's just impossible to hide anything from me."
Hana laughs. “Sure. Just like you noticed right away when your favourite kimono went missing, among other things.” 
“Just so you know, I pretended not to notice, young lady. As a parent, some things are worth sacrificing. Like one’s dignity.” 
“Yeah right,” Hana giggles but then quiets down before speaking again. 
“Dad… Does he make you happy?”
“Leonardo? Oh, sweetie,” Yuichi murmurs and turns in Hana's arms to hold her instead, tucking her head under his chin. 
“The happiest,” he sighs, smiling. “I'm so lucky. All these years of being single… he was well worth the wait.” 
“He better be,” Hana mutters, “if he breaks your heart, I'm breaking his face.” 
“Not his face!” Yuichi laughs. “Haven't you seen how handsome he is?” 
“Oh, I'm aware.”
Yuichi can feel her grin against his neck and he holds his kitten tighter. He knows she's joking… kind of. He’s under no illusions about the seriousness of her threat and while a breakup doesn't seem likely, he feels sorry for his boyfriend. 
If they ever get into an argument or Yuichi shows even the tiniest signs of upset because of his relationship and Hana gets a whiff of it, he knows that Leonardo will be in for a world of hurt – and not only because of Hana; he’s certain that all of his daughters would have a bone to pick with the slider, then. He might be a ninja but so are the girls and Yuichi wouldn’t wish their ire upon anyone… especially not the man he’s fallen in love with. 
However, he thinks he’s very lucky to have such a protective family. 
Hana sighs but the exhale sounds less tense than before and she buries her face into his chest. “I'm happy for you,” come the muffled words against his collar, and Yuichi feels emotional almost to the point of tears. 
He’s so very lucky, indeed. 
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elliespuns · 7 months
Text
Quiet the Winter Harbor
Summary: After Ellie experienced horrors beyond her comprehension and was forced to do what was necessary, it completely broke her. Not knowing whether he was still alive or not, she slowly started to lose all hope of seeing Joel ever again. Terrified, helpless, and lost—that's how he found her when he appeared and took some of her pain away.
Pairing: Ellie & Joel, father-daughter
Wordcount: 1.5k
Tags/Warnings: canonverse, angst, comfort, fluff, found family, platonic relationship, father-daughter, soft Joel, baby girl Ellie, Joel POV, Ellie POV
Note: This one-shot of a 'story' is based on the actual TLOU game events; on a scene where Ellie kills David and Joel comes to take her away. Ellie & Joel mean so much to me. Writing them into fluffy scenarios will always make me happy. Hope this silly little 'scene' can make you happy too.
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Rushing away from the burning building that's slowly tumbling down as the flames lick the air, Joel's arm is wrapped around the little girl's petite back as he's leading her away from the danger. She's trembling. She would never thought that she'd ever go through something like this. Ellie has killed people before, but this? This was different. He was trying to—was he? He definitely was. She keeps replaying the last few moments before her eyes, sobbing softly. She had to do it. She had no choice. She didn't want any of this to happen. Yet it still did, and it absolutely broke her.
The young girl who needs him right now is falling apart right next to him, and he has no idea what to do or what to say. The man Joel wishes to torture to death was trying to hurt her in ways no girl should ever experience. She's so young, innocent and fragile. There are no right words to empathise with something like this.
Instead of opening his mouth to say something that would only make her feel worse, he just gives her shoulder a gentle, loving squeeze with his hand and pulls her closer to him as the tears keep running down her freckles and leaving salty taste on her lips.
She's quiet. He is too. He feels miserable. If only if got there sooner. The anger, the frustration, the helplessness that suffocates him knowing he can't turn back the time to do something, and her little, quiet sniffs are not making this any easier on him. All Joel wants to do is to bring that motherfucker back to life, only to torture him and make him suffer in an agonizing way. Make him experience evil—evils that he had the nerve to put Ellie through.
And even after all this, he still can't believe what a brave and courageous kid she is. Hell of a fighter. He had never seen so much strength in a person before, let alone in a little girl.
When he arrived at the scene and he witnessed what she has done to the man, he knew that he would've done exactly the same thing. Except she's a kid. She shouldn't know what this feels like. Having her clinging to him tighly as she cried, embracing her, he finally realized that she must have gone out of her way to save his life. In that moment, he regretted everything he said to her back at the farm house and from this moment on, he decided to make his life's mission to dedicate his all this kid.
He should do something. Say something. He owes her so much. If it weren't for her, he wouldn't have been here right now. Feeling helpless, with nothing but love inside his heart for her right now, he can't take this deafening silence any longer. He stops and crouches down in front of her, putting them at eye-lever with one another. The freezing, snowy path sends an icy cold feeling through his entire body as soon as his knee hits the ground and his hands reach for hers, having her lift her red, puffy eyes on him. "Listen, Ellie. I er… I have no idea what to say because, honestly, there is nothing I can say or do to take away what you've just gone through." He says softly, his voice deep but full of endearment and understanding as he caresses the knuckles on her fists with his thumbs, warming her extremely cold hands.
"Joel, I don't wanna—" She sobs, her words stuck in her throat, her teeth chattering from the cold.
"You don't have to say anything. Just know that I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for everything. For every damn mean thing I said to you. I didn't mean any of it." He says, regretting the harsh words that left his mouth at the farmhouse before everything went down so fast and he has come to realize that he hurt her. "You deserve so much more." He assures her, his huge palms covering her fists.
"Joel, can we just—"
"No, listen. Listen, Ellie…" He stops her by cupping her wet, icy cheeks that are somehow burning up, wiping her tears away with his calloused thumbs as her sad, pained eyes peer into his and her lower lip quivers. "You are the bravest fucking kid, do you understand?" He says, his voice trembling as if he's on the verge of crying himself. "And you saved my life. No one else would care enough to take so many risks to do that for someone like me." He adds and smiles, his cold hands sticking to her cheeks as he's refusing to let go. "And you still did. You matter, okay? You matter to me. I should've never left your side and—"
It's when his words are cut short as the frail girl in front of him throws herself his way and wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his jacket and weepeing softly. "I was so scared, Joel. I was so fucking scared that I lost you." She mumbles into his neck, searching for comfort in the smell of his shirt and coat.
It was as if his heart stopped beating for a second the moment she clung to him. His arms are suddenly taking on a life of their own when they instinctively wrap around her and pull her closer before one of his hands comes up to caress the back of her head as she keeps sobbing, leaving wet traces of her tears in the crook of his neck.
They never embraced each other like this before. Freezing on the cold ground, Joel's knee that's buried deep in the snow to keep his balance steady for her starts getting numb. But he doesn't mind. He doesn't care. It's the warmth of her heart that's softly beating through her chest right against his as they keep hugging tightly, quietly, and affectionately. If it weren't for the howling of the wind, he could have sworn he heard it too.
This girl means everything to him. How did this happen? He has no idea. But he curses himself for all the time he made her life a living hell by constantly rejecting her charming, beamy, and at times, ridiculously goofy personality. She might be the best thing that has ever happened to him after Sarah, and all he has ever done till now was be an asshole. Now he's going to do better with her.
Carefully breaking the embrace, he cups her cheek again. "You don't ever need to feel like you have to talk to me about what happened there, okay? Just remember… if there's ever going to be a day when you feel like laying all this burden out on me, don't hesitate." He pays her a smile. A smile so warm and full of love it made her heart flutter.
She's devastated after all that happened, but this? This smile on his face? Smile that he never gave her before? Smile that says, 'You'll never be alone ever again.' She can't help but nod and crack a tiny smile too, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her jacket. "Okay." She sniffs, her voice trembling as she's doing her best not to cry anymore. She doesn't know how, but Joel is making her feel better. He wouldn't take away the horrors she's still replying in her mind over and over again, but it means a lot. She's never thought that one day this stranger of a man would be someone that she deeply cares about. Someone whose love would mean the world to her.
"Okay, kiddo. I don't want to spoil the emotional moment we have here, but… you're going to need to help your old man." He chuckles, trying to loosen up the tension by using humor—the one thing he knows always wins with Ellie. "I think my knee got stuck to the ground, and I also can't feel it anymore."
Ellie smiles and wipes her nose with the back of her hand before she reaches for his. "You're such a dumbass." She shakes her head and lets a few little giggles out, helping him on his feet.
Slapping the snow and filth off his jeans, he reaches behind him to grab something that appears to look like Ellie's backpack. "Here. I believe you have a few valuable things in this thing." He hands it to her, watching her eyes beam at the sight of her pack that she thought she'd never see again.
"You might be old and helpless sometimes, but you're not totally worthless." She jokes, grinning at him before she flings the pack over her shoulder.
"There she is." Joel chuckles and is head over heels for his baby girl's smile, which he thought he had lost too.
The end.
Author's note: This is not an actual attempt at a fic or a story that has a continuation. This is just a silly little one-shot I wrote for myself, and the nice people here helped me overcome my fear of oversharing my privacy, so I finally posted some of it. If anyone else already wrote fics based on this scene, just know that I got inspired by the scene itself, not by any of the stories related to it. Anyway, I hope it's not that terrible, and keep in mind that English is not my mother language. Typos are possible.
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Hii! Can I get a request with Hotchner daughter reader where she is like 5-6 years old, and she is "obsessed" with Reid and maybe Hotch a little jealous bc thats her baby and
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Aaron Hotchner X Spencer Reid X Daughter Reader
Request: Hii! Can I get a request with Hotchner daughter reader  where she is like 5-6 years old, and she is "obsessed" with Reid and maybe Hotch a little jealous bc thats his baby
Third person pov...
It was always a busy day in the Hotchner household, with Aaron Hotchner balancing his job as a BAU Unit Chief and his duties as a single father to his daughter and son But despite his hectic schedule, he always made sure to spend quality time with his children.
At the moment, Aaron was helping his daughter get dressed as she would be going to work with him today, Jack had school, Aaron had dropped him of earlier.
The two were currently in the little girls room, Aaron kneeling on the floor going throug his daughter clothes before her voice made him turn towards her.
"Daddy, can I wear my princess dress today?" the 5-year-old asked with wide, hopeful eyes, Aaron couldn't resist her adorable request and smiled.
"Of course you can, princess. But let's make sure you wear some comfy shoes too.' He carefully picked out a pair of sparkly flats for her to wear.
Once the 5 year offer as dressed the two headed out the door and to the FBI headquarters.
The young gurl was bursting with excitement as she followed her dad, Aaron Hotchner, to the BAU headquarters. Being five years old, she didn't really understand what her dad did for work, but you knew it was important and cool.
'Morning, Uncle Spencer!' The girl exclaimed as she ran up to the tall, lanky man standing at his desk.
"Good morning, Y/N" Reid smiled down at the girl, He loved spending time with Y/N she was a bright light at the office and always had the most interesting questions.
"Can I help you with anything today?" She asked with wide eyes.
Reid chuckled, 'Of course, you can help me with everything!'
'Y/N, come on, we have to go to my office,' your dad called out.
'Okay, bye Uncle Spencer!' Y/N waved as she followed her dad.
As the H/C girl walked through the office, she noticed her dad's colleague, Derek Morgan, staring at her and her dad with a smirk.
'What's so funny, Morgan?' Hotch asked, noticing his expression.
'Nothing, Hotch. Just admiring how much Y/N looks like her dad,' Morgan teased, winking at the girl.
They all watched in amusement as she turned to the man with a pout, "But I want to look like Uncle Spencer!"
Hotch laughed and ruffled his daughters hair, 'Trust me, Y/N, you're much cuter than Uncle Spencer.'
They both entered the mans office and he sat the girl down in a chair while he went through some paperwork.
'Hey, Y/N, do you want to help me catch some bad guys?' The dad asked, his serious tone making the 5 year old sit up straighter in her chair.
'Really?' Y/N asked with excitement.
'Of course, you're my secret weapon,' the dad grinned before handing his daughter a pen and a clipboard.
While Hotch worked on the computer,
Y/N scribbled on the clipboard, feeling very important. Suddenly, Y/N heard her dad's phone ring and his face fell as he answered it.
'What's wrong, Daddy?' Y/N asked, sensing his sudden shift in mood.
'Nothing, Y/N. Just a case,' Her dad replied with a forced smile.
'Is it dangerous?' The 5 year old asked with concern.
'Probably not, don't worry,' the dad reassured her.
But she could see the worry in his eyes. She knew it was a lie. The little 5 yrar old knew her dad's job was dangerous and didn't like the idea of him getting hurt.
'Uncle Spencer will keep you safe,' She said, still holding onto the belief that Reid was her protector.
Hotches tired face softened at his daughters words and he gave a small smile, 'Yes, he will.'
Y/N apent the rest of the day helping her dad at the office, keeping her mind off the case. But as the team headed out, the little girl couldn't help but feel a little sad that her daddy had to leave.
Before the tewm headed out Spencer walked up to the young child, he looked at her sad face and thought if something to cheer her up.
'Hey, why don't we make a deal?' Reid suggested, giving thr girl a gentle smile and holding her hand.
'What kind of deal?' She girl asked, intrigued her sad expression vanishing.
'You keep an eye on me and make sure I stay safe, and I'll do the same for your dad,' Reid said with a smile.
Y/N odded eagerly, 'Deal!'
Reid grinned and picked the young child up, both laughing he began spinning around many times before placing you back on the ground.
Both dizzy but smiles on their faces.
'Come on, let's go see what kind of trouble we can get into,' Reid chuckled as he took the girls hand again, they both made their way out of the office.
Y/Ns dad watched the two with a mix of amusement and jealousy. He knew his daughter adored Reid and he couldn't blame her. Reid was a great friend and role model, and he was glad to have him in his children's life.
But as the two of them walked around the bullpen, he couldn't help but feel a little left out. He was Y/Ns dad, after all. But he knew that she were in good hands with her Uncle Spencer, and that was all that mattered.
The end!
Hope you liked this oneshot, woo 2 in one night this is strange, decided to treat you guys to two of these oneshots I know you've missed them, I'm still working on getting through the rest of the requests but I will get through them thank you for your patience.
Sorry for this one being shorter than usual anyway sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.
Request are open!
Word count : 1016
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giulscomix · 7 months
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After a long art block, I finally managed to sketch something again with these two!
I want to show the Similarities that Father and Daughter share, I'll do more about this subject ^_^ Same questioning look, same way to eat, but Gabi prefers burritos!
MY COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN! If interested, please send me an e-mail: [email protected]
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hazashiovo · 2 months
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Father!figure Joel random headcanons with fem!reader?
(now that I'm reading my request again it sounds pretty vague :/ I'm gonna try to tell some ideas or details. So, would be cool to see how joel cares about reader's hobbies like bringing her new things, what does he do when reader gets sad, or when someone in town is messing with her, how does he reacts when reader shows him affection like making him a gift or hugs him or kisses his cheek, or how does he teases her when she's shy of some subject, etc)
I love this! Especially since I see Joel more in a platonic way.
Joel Miller father headcanons
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Joel would be TERRIFIED to be a father again.
After losing Sara he kept living with the feeling that something bad is going to happen to you too.
Even so, nothing is going to harm you while Joel's there ,and he's always there for you.
He had a hard time accepting you as his newly adopted daughter,but once he made peace with himself? Best dad ever.
You like drawing? He left a box with a ton of art supplies.
He found them a while ago but didn't know at that time that you like art.
You enjoy music? He got you your own guitar,which also comes with music lessons only from him.
He knows how much you like listening to him singing,so it became a habit for him to sing to you,and once you gain more experience you'll be able to sing with him.
Maybe you like reading, Joel makes sure to bring you to this huge library,a bit far from Jackson but it's totally worth it.
You returned home with toons of books to occupy your time.
It doesn't matter which hobby you have, he will always be there to support it.
One thing I learned from the show,is that Joel likes hiking.
He used to do that with Sara when things were still okay, so when he started this with you it felt like a part of him healed.
When exploring a new place,he found an old shop full of video cameras and photo camera,and so he started collecting photos of you two. He even made an album where he keeps the photos with you.
If there was a fire that would be the main thing he would save.
When you got older he became more protective. He knew those Jackson boys barely wait for a new girl to get with. Well not this girl,not his little girl.
If you're queer,he would be completely oblivious. My man doesn't have a gaydar,not in the slightest.
If you would hang out with a girl pretty often he would just assume you're best friends or something along the lines.
Now if he accidentally saw you kiss with said girl? S-H-O-C-K.
Joel's not homophobic,don't get him wrong,but he just never expected it. And never actually saw it coming.
But if he saw you and a boy kiss,he's all protective father mode on.
Of course he's not a meat head, he'll understand that you have the right to a relationship just as much as anyone,but that doesn't mean he's also fond of the idea of a boy around you.
He'll only accept it for your happiness,but if that guy ever hurts you? Oh well, it's not his fault for what's about to happen.
Fortunately he trusts you can pick the right person, whether they're a girl or a boy.
At times when you're sick he can't help but remember Sara, he'd also remember how worried he would be for his daughter,the same worry that he feels for you.
He makes sure you stay inside and makes you drink and take the pills the doctor prescribed for you,even if you don't like it.
If you ever return from outside hurt, expect to never hear the end of it. For some time he wouldn't let you leave Jackson, mostly because of his fear of anything happening to you again.
But he's not that kind of Father,so after a while he will reluctantly give you permission to go outside Jackson again.
Movie nights.
Joel finds those old DVDs with movies he used to watch before the apocalypse,and he just loves rewatching them with you.
You'll be all snuggled up in his chest,head right where his heart beat, everything reminding him of his movie nights with Sara after a long shift at work.
Joel feels really happy and fulfilled that you trust him enough to be this vulnerable around him. Especially since this world is cruel and full of dangers.
He's dead set to never let anything or anyone lay a finger on you,even if it costs him his life.
.
.
My daddy issues are sueing me.
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theobjectofyourire · 2 years
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Being Daemon's Daughter Would Include (Part II)
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a/n: I wasn't expecting such an incredible response to Part I & I just 😭 I'm so so sorry it took me so long to write Part II but here it is! I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it- it really took on a mind of its own! Your mother/Daemon's wife makes a greater appearance, so you get to see Daemon as a wholesome husband, too 💕
Let me know if I should start a tag list for this & if you'd like to be included on it for future parts!
Part I | Part III
summary: It's been near a fortnight since your birth, and Daemon cannot bear to leave your side. How else would he spend his time if not murmuring tales by your cradle...and mayhaps singing...
cw: some angst (and foreshadowing about angst to come) but mostly just comfort, a little fluff, fem reader
~~~~~~~
A Song To Keep You Warm
-Upon the hour of your birth, the bells of King's Landing sang out to the city, continuing to sound for nigh on a week. The realm had been blessed with a new princess, and though this was celebrated far and wide, no one was as happy as your father.
-Daemon Targaryen delighted in your mere existence, and would often be seen by your cradle, murmuring tales of love and valor in High Valyrian. You would clutch one of his slender fingers with your whole hand and on more than one occasion, he swore you tried to pull him closer to you. The servants, however, insisted this wasn't possible for a babe so young.
-"Forgive me, my prince," the one girl curtsied, too nervous to look him in the eye. "She's not yet two weeks. She hasn't the strength for such a feat." The others agreed, albeit with hesitation, nodding with sympathy and a little fear, feeling as though they were in some way disobedient.
-To their surprise, he gave them all a wry smile. "She's a Targaryen," he said, holding his head high, "the blood of Old Valyria and daughter of the Rogue Prince." You made a few little noises, then, as you were wont do when you heard your father's voice. You so loved the tenor, which rumbled through you like a kitten purring on your chest. He felt you pulling again. Kneeling, he pressed a kiss upon your cheek and beamed with pride. "She's simply taking what she wants."
-The servants could not but giggle, taken aback and entirely charmed. Daemon was, at once, both tender and wild. He spoke of you as one would the Conqueror, and it was truly odd to see such language applied to a babe. Yet, so too had you allowed him a softness that made his disposition rather agreeable, even calming. Those who had been wary of his presence for countless years were now eager to serve, if only to witness the magic that was said to occur at the hour of the wolf.
-Though you had no trouble finding rest while bathed in the warmth of the sun, you were not one for sleep once the candles were lit. The hour of the bat and all hours that followed saw you not only awake, but seemingly alert, a curious thing indeed for one so young.
-"Remarkable," one Maester had mumbled under his breath, declaring he had never seen anything quite like it. Nor had he read of any similar cases in all his years at the Citadel.
-While your father was intrigued, your mother grew increasingly nervous. He squeezed her hand as she worried at her bottom lip, brows furrowed with a soft concern. "Is she alright?"
-"She is positively glowing, my lady," he assured her. "As healthy a babe as I have ever seen. She merely seems to thrive under the moon."
-He noted that it would be interesting to see whether or not this trait persisted into childhood (indeed, it would), but either way, there was no cause for any distress.
-Though the Maester's words were based in wisdom and reason, they did little to ease your mother's anxieties. She could not explain it, nor find a way to speak it properly, but a terrible anticipation had burrowed itself in her stomach. She felt as though she were preparing for battle, not only waiting for an enemy's strike, but for her happiness to be torn from her.
-In this respect, Daemon had greater success than the Maester. "Hush now, my darling," he whispered, running his fingers through her hair, gently twisting them into loose, flowing braids. Her breathing slowly returned to normal.
-"Think of the dragons," he murmured. "Caraxes is, this very moment, in the heart of the pit, smothered in darkness, and he is in no torment. Quite the opposite."
-"It's true, he isn't what anyone expected him to be," your father allowed, "and mayhaps some might consider him an oddity...though they do not live to think that for long." He playfully nudged her, earning a genuine chuckle. That sparkle of mischief that he fell in love with returned to her eyes as she settled into his arms, letting his words wash over her.
-"He is one of the fiercest creatures in the realm, and he, too, sometimes thrives in the darkness." Daemon purposefully mirrored the Maester's words, smiling when he felt your mother's shoulders relax. "We need not understand it, nor concern ourselves with altering it. She is as she is."
-"So, she's drawn to a little darkness." He buried his face in her hair, whispering into her ear. "Weren't you?" She giggled as she remembered her first encounters with her prince. She couldn't deny it, she had been drawn to his darkness.
-"Tis true enough, husband," she sighed. "But darkness or no, she needs her rest."
-Daemon hummed in agreement, his own forebodings beginning to take shape in his mind. He wouldn't tell your mother, for fear of worrying her further, but he, too, shared in her dread. These last days had felt very much the calm before the storm.
-Still, he was no stranger to war. He insisted on continuing on with as much a sense of normalcy as possible. But Dark Sister remained constantly on his hip and he remained by your cradle every moment that could be spared. Most especially after the sun had set.
-This was the magic the servants so desperately wanted to behold. For in the darkest hours of the night, when the candles burned low and sleep evaded you, Daemon would kneel by your cradle, his breath warm against your skin, and he would sing the most gentle lullabies of your long-lost homeland in the language of your ancestors.
-The first night, he had recited only two ballads before you had drifted off, but mere moments after he stopped singing you had woken again. And so every night after, your father sang to you for hours on end, until the sky turned pink as a maiden's blush, and his throat was all but raw. Not once did he complain, or even seem to mind the ache. He cherished these quiet moments with you, singing to you of tales far and wide.
-The songs varied from night to night, depending on the prince's mood. Some were rather melancholy, songs of loss and loves never to be. Others were triumphant, exciting recollections of war and heroics.
-When naught would tire you, a slight mischief would dance in his eyes as he looked round, ensuring no one was lurking, and would sing a song well-suited to taverns and fools. Songs of the smallfolk had such humor he would lean into that you were sure to squirm and smile before soon finding rest.
-One evening, after he had faced a particularly tedious few hours with the Small Council, Daemon found himself yearning for days long since passed, when chaos and violence had rule over his heart. His mind wandered to the Stepstones, which had returned to something of a dismal state in the recent years. He could not bear to leave you, nor could he deny that he still longed for battle.
-That night, lost in his nostalgia and torn between his greatest loves, he could not but sing the shanties of the common tongue that had filled each silence off the coasts of war.
-Perhaps there was something of the sea in his blood, as it seemed there was in yours. You looked at him with wide eyes as he sang, his voice somehow both gentle and rough, much like the sea herself.
-He picked you up in his arms and carried you to the window, looking out to the waves, all but black and shimmering in the moonlight, crashing against the rocks. His voice was low, rumbling. Tears lingered on his lashes. You squeezed his finger.
-Outside the chambers, servants had gathered. Each wept as they listened to songs of the sea. Of war and of loss, and of a love that even death cannot touch.
-He knew they were there, but he could not bring himself to send them away.
-"Let them hear," he murmured, in a language they could not understand. "Let them know even a prince yearns for something more."
-In the hour of the owl, you fell asleep to the sounds of the sea and your father's strong voice, safe and warm in his embrace.
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baylz · 2 months
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what could've been
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IN WHICH: Nanami is your dad
father!nanami x daughter!reader
word count: 389
song to play: my girl by the temptations
warnings: father daughter banter, sappy shit
a/n: haven't written in a while so here you go!
╴╴╴╴╴ ⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴╴╴ ⊹ꮺ˚
father!nanami: who cradles you in his arms and promises you the world when you first enter it.
father!nanami: who films every second of your childhood to cherish.
father!nanami: who immedately jumps out of bed once you tell him you’re not feeling well. “daddy this medicine is nasty” “I’ll give you some honey to get rid of the taste”
father!nanami: who is the first one to rush over to you the minute you fall. Lifting you up and murmuring “it’s okay sweetie. you’re okay.”
father!nanami: who leaves work early to attend the daddy daughter dance at your school. “am i pretty daddy?” “very pretty sweetie.”
father!nanami: who always lets you sleep with him when you have a nightmare.
father!nanami: who takes you out on ice cream dates to make up for his time away from you because of work.
father!nanami: who, during your boy phase in your preteen years, grew very wary of the boy you talked to at school whenever he came to pick you up. “dad don’t glare at him like that.” “you’d do well in homeschooling”
father!nanami: who was shitting the bricks the first he was teaching you how to drive. “stop nagging! i swear you love this car more than me.” “I do.”
father!nanami: who hugs you so tight and watches your favorite movies with you after your first heartbreak. softly caressing your hair while listening to you pour out your feelings. “men suck!” “yes, yes they do, sweetie.”
father!nanami: who still carries you to bed whenever you fall asleep on the couch no matter how old you get.
father!nanami: who smiles fondly at you the first time he sees you in your prom dress, taking as many pictures of you as possible. “one more.” “you said that 10 pictures ago!"
father!nanami: who swivels around in his office chair like a vilian when you get home late from said prom. “I’ve been expecting you.” “you’re so weird.”
father!nanami: who gets secretly emotional when packing your things to go off to college. “are you crying?” “tears of joy, yes” “sure dad…”
father!nanami: who hugs you one last time before you’re off to your dream school, kissing your temple so tenderly. “i love you. be safe.” “i love you too dad.”
╴╴╴╴╴ ⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴╴╴ ⊹ꮺ˚
@baylz please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my works onto other platforms!!
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kvthgok · 11 months
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Nothing to Worry | Father Miguel O’Hara x Daughter Reader
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Warnings-none
Summary- You are Miguel’s daughter. Your 7 years old but you’ve been having trouble sleeping lately.
Side note- This one is WAYYY shorter than usual cuz writers block is kicking my ass so hard rn. This time I actually proofread ikr surprising (still probably gonna have mistakes somehow LMAO). But yaur I hope u guys enjoy this still 😭 <3
The little girl walked into Miguel’s room quietly. And shook him gently waking up him up kinda.
“¿Qué pasa sweetheart ?Hm?”Miguel questioned softly at her still half asleep.
”I can’t sleep” she said frowning.
“Did you have a nightmare ?” Miguel asked trying to calm her down. She looked like she was in verge of crying. The little girl had nodded.
Miguel looked at her. “Come here mija” he pulled her up to his bed.
Miguel held her closely as he pulled the covers over both you guys.
“Now try to sleep, you’ll be fine..” Miguel whispered to her soothingly. He caressed her hair. “It’s okay sweetheart, you’re safe” he whispered as she began to feel sleepy.
“There is Nothing to Worry sweetheart.” Miguel mumbled in Spanish and kissed her head.
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