this is self indulgent but girl dad wilbur helping his kid with their first panic attack. he’d hate that they have the same “worries” as him but helping them off the ledge :(
Girl dad Wilbur who daughter is just so incredibly stressed out with school. She knows you and Wil are both so incredibly proud of her academic accomplishments, but she's put herself in one to many high level classes, and is afraid to bring up the fact she's struggling with either you or Wil.
When she gets home from school one afternoon she goes to her room and doesn't really leave, which isn't abnormal she is 14, sometimes sh has off days and she's aloud to deal with them how she needs to, even if that's by herself.
That being said, Wil has never been one to sleep through the night without trouble, especially if one of his girls are having a bad day. So as he's walking around the house trying to tire himself out, he decides to check in on his daughter, to make sure she's sleeping peacefully.
He's greeted by a much different sight then he expected when he looks in her room. His little girl, curled up in his bed, shaking and struggling to catch her breath. As he approaches her, he is softly calling her name, trying to see if she can respond to him. All he gets in response are little whimpers of "help" and "can't breathe". He quicky realizes that it's a panic attack, and instantly goes through every piece of advice he's given you when you've had to help him through his own panic attacks.
He has one of her hands on his chest, above his heart, while he's telling her "Breathe." "Sweetheart I need you to match my breathing." "Deep breaths, you are doing so well" "You're okay, we're in your room. You're safe." Once he does have her calmed down he's not moving, he spends the rest of the night with her, being consumed by his own guilt.
When you wake up the next morning, it's not odd for Wilbur to not be in bed, sometimes when he wakes up he can't go back to sleep. But it is odd for no one to wake you before 7am. Usually all three of you get ready in the morning so you eat breakfast together, so you set off to find where you husband is, and why your house is so quiet.
When you approach you're daughters room you see them, Wil sitting in the floor leaning against the wall, and your daughter in the depths of sleep knocked out using her dad as a pillow. As you walk in Wil gives you a look, one that tells you that something went down last night.
As he details how he "fucked her up by giving her his problems and worries" in a wobbly voice, on the break of panic attack himself, you start telling how he absolutely did not. The two of you decide that she's staying home that day, and you figure out a way to approach what happened. Will starts giving her tips, by telling her the way he stops them when by himself and explains more of the physiology behind why it happens.
I KNOW I *JUST* SENT IN A REQUEST BUT I GOT A DADBUR IDEA, WHERE HIS LITTLE GIRL IS GOING THROUGH HER IMPATIENT PHASE, AND WIL BUMPS INTO READER AND IS LIKE GATHERING THE COURAGE TO ASK HER OUT BUT KIDDO IS JUST LIKE DAAAAAAD AND HE'S UPSET HE DIDN'T GET TO ASK YOU OUT BUT THEN HE REALISES YOU SLIPPED YOUR NUMBER INTO HIS POCKET OR SOMETHING IDK
i live only for em requests (and dadbur but like, we knew that already)
<3
tw/cursing
she/her pronouns for the kid, who i named as well for once
they/them pronouns for "you"
teeth rotting fluff below the cut, not responsible for your cavities etc
the only constant in Wilbur's daughters life (besides him, he figures he doesn't count) is the floral assistant at the local grocery store.
picture this.
it's a long day. wilbur finishes up practice, runs to pick his daughter up from daycare (no, literally-runs, he's running behind schedule) straps his daughter into the car and races to the groccery store to try and find something to feed her.
and it's later than he'd like; he's not proud of how late it is, how late his kid is eating-and she's dragging her feet behind him, pathetically, as little kids do, her little hand tangled in his as he gently shushes her, practically begging her to cut him a break-when you just kind of stumble into their life.
you're at your desk, pushed in the corner of the store, and wilbur's kid insists on seeing the flowers, running her hands over them, sticking her nose into the bouqets-usally, it's cute; makes him step back for a second, enjoy the little things, snap a picture of her-but he's frantically thinking about dinner, about bed time for her, about the stream he promised-
"Darling," Wilbur says gently, as she gasps and pulls him by the hand to the bouquets, never gets old for her, even if she sees them at every store- "C'mon, love. We gotta go, I promise we can come back later this week and look-"
You stick your head around the desk, seeing the little girl pulling her frazzled father around, his arms full of various ingredigents and think: fuck it, i'd rather be doing anything than this order-and stand up to see them.
"Those are my favorite too!" You say as you round the corner, her nose first into a bouqet of sunflowers, her hand still tangled in Wilbur's.
"They're so pretty!" She gushes immediately, always friends with everyone, a 'pleasure to have in class' but 'talks a lot' according to her teacher. "Papa said sunflowers means you adore someone." she giggles into her hand.
"Your Papa is very smart, that they do. I personally love the tulips, here." And you reach next to you for the bouquet, giggle as she sticks her face into them to smell.
She gasps. "Those are so nice. Wilby, try this!" She pulls at his hand until he bends down more, is towering over his kid (and you) but a gentle giant suddenly, sticking his nose into the flower.
Wilby plays over in your head-like, what a cute fucking name- "Those are beautiful, sweetheart." he pulls his nose out, finally looks at you:
"Sorry, uh-I hope we aren't in the way. She loves smelling the flowers, you do, uh-a great job with them."
She giggles at his side, and he doesn't know if it's at his expense or not-
"Thanks," You giggle back. "This little stand is like my baby. Not great, but-"
"Wilby says i'm his baby!" His daughter speaks, weaving in and out of his legs, pulling at his pant legs, can feel her fingernails in his pant legs.
"That's right." he tickles her side, usually his job as the father to embarrass her, not the other way around-
You look up at him, seeing him all heart eyes over his daughter, and it's making your face flush, feeling frazzled over this.
"Sorry uh-" He shakes his head, "We can get out of your hair. We're running late for dinner, but we had to smell the flowers, y'know."
"You aren't bothering me!" You say quickly, quick enough that you worry it's creepy- "I was trying to avoid paperwork anyways."
"Oh," Wilbur giggles, "Uh-it's nice to meet you, by the way. I'm Wilbur. This is my daughter, Aurora."
You drop down, offer your hand to Aurora, who's running around at all the flowers, stopping only long enough to shake your hand, before you stand back up, introduce yourself back to Wilbur.
You two stand in front of each other, the radio playing the top fifty pop hits, interrupting for the current deals of the day, the beeping of the registers scanning, the yelling from various customers-and there's so much you want to say, this insta-crush, but no words come out.
luckily-or unluckily, depending on who you ask-Wilbur has a young kid, who always speaks their mind.
"Papa." She tugs on the bottom of his shirt, and he bends down, offers his ear, "Ask them out already"
And she's little, so she's not whispering, his face immediately turns bright pink as she giggles and wraps her arms around his leg.
"I'm so sorry-"
"I'm free tomorrow."
you both speak at the same time, cutting each other off, before laughing at one another.
"Yeah?" Wilbur asks, like he can't believe his luck, and you aren't sure where this confidence comes from, but you aren't complaining.
"Yeah, sure." You shrug, trying to play it cool.
"Nice. Ok-sure, yeah. Here." And he scrambles through the backpack over his shoulder, pink with hello kitty, obviously his kids, hands you his phone number on the back of a take out menu, "Text me? Or call me? And we can make plans? If you aren't busy-"
You nod, fold it up and put it in the front pocket of your apron with a nod. "It's a date. I get off at 9. I'll call you, yeah?"
"Yeah." He smiles, "Yeah, it's a date."
He has this silly smile on his face as he calls Aurora over again for a last goodbye, even though she doesn't really know you, she's hugging your legs, and you're plucking a sunflower from a bouquet, tucking it behind her ear and she's squealing and showing Wilbur with this big toothy smile and he's oh-ing and awing over her, and it's cute
wilbur says his goodbyes, keeps that smile on his face as they walk around the store, in a little less of a frazzled rush, even though wilbur mentally adds: research flowers and get a nice bouquet for you to his list for tomorrow
Dadbur comforting his kiddo before a trip to the doctor because they are nervous?-☀️
this is hideously late and all ramblings, not really a fic but i need comfort dadbur god damn it
tw/mention of shots
cavity inducing fluff, don’t @ me
~•~
he’d be the type of parent to be googling everything he can do to make them comfortable
or like, is laying in bed with you, you’re getting ready to sleep, and he has his glasses up his nose and is flipping through all those parenting books he bought for advice
and he buys them one of those kids lil doctor kit weeks before and lets them practice giving him vaccines with plastic thing, buys them a box of bandaids to carefully out on him (and he has zero shame, going out to the grocery store, or picking mail outside, fingernails painted from them and covered in bandaids from them)
and he insists the both of you got with to the doctor, and you practically had to convince him not to bring his guitar because he knows how much it comforts his kid to play it gently when they’re stressed
instead, he plays on the floor with them with little building blocks, and distracts them with you as all three of you build a little fort
when the time comes, and it’s for a needle, you’re almost afraid you’re going to have to kick wilbur out because he’s so scared, doesn’t want anything to hurt his baby (definitely cries when they cry over it)
has them on his lap and like tickles their arm and reads them something off his phone as your to the side, also trying to distract them, or he’s singing in their ear
definetly insists on treating everyone ice cream after, doesn’t let them leave his side as he carries them out
Right we've seen dadbur, and we've seen Teacher Wilbur. So what about the reader is a teacher and is married to Wilbur (who's in the next class over) and she's teaching but then feels the baby kick for the first time. Like maybe Wilbur comes in the class and gets giddy. I don't really know, you can change it up if you want 👍
again, this is more blurbs than a cohesive fic (sorry if anyone's disappointed by those lately, i just feel like a lot more of these work more as like blurbs? no?) anyways
love this so much <3 any excuse for me to do more dadbur
wilbur teaches next door and while the students know you two are together, are married, expecting a child-you try and keep the PDA under wraps
wilbur, is the opposite
he loves to embarrass you. like not actually embarrass you, but send a kid over with a stapled close note that says IMPORTANT on it, only to open it and see like: i love u so much ur so sweet with a little piece of hard candy in it?
walking to lunch at the same time? his hand is going to knock into yours until you finally lace your hands into his
your teaching and feel a kick for the first time and you gasp like you arent expecting it and a kid gets up, like ready to run to "Mr.Soot" and you're like: for the love of god, don't, he'll freak out if you run in like that
so you have a kid (calmly) get him but he still comes over, looks frazzled, and he's like: "babe??? you good??" and he's immediatley going for your bump, because that's where his hands comfortably go, and you beat him to it, put your hand on the side of the bump, and he's immediately kneeling on the floor, like, doesn't care how filthy the floors are, or anything
and youre like: "Just wait-" and your eyes travel to the ceiling as you wait, and he's so patient, like you're afraid you'll have to tell him to hold on, to forget it, to come back later-
instead, it happens again and he gasps?? he's like teary eyed when he stands up, holds your face in his hands and he's like so proud of you? and he's kissing you, doesn't care about the kids around him before he's back at your belly and is like: "hi bub! it's your papa!" and he's rubbing your belly and he kisses your face again before you have to tell him to get back to his class
(he definitely sneaks little visits in in-between teaching, or classes, jogs up to you just to hold your belly)
Can we get dad!bur taking his little family on vacation and it’s the child being all cute in the pool ily and have a good night/day
wahhh i adore yall for sending me so much dadbur sorry its taking me a while to get back to them, work has been (simply) kicking my butt but coming back to these make my entire day. love love love y'all
as usual, less fic, more rambling below the cut
him walking around the edge of the pool wit them, life jacket and floaties on, holding his hand as they double check to make sure everything is okay.
wilbur tries to get them to jump in before him and they freak out, realize they’re far too scared to. like, full freak out, wilbur realizes he fucked up, is holding them
finally, they’re brave enough to try it (if wilbur walks in with them) and he’s standing in like, waist deep water, his arms wide open, this smile on his face as he’s like: “c’mon darling! you can do it, sweetheart.”
until they finally jump in.
they spend the entire trip with them on his hip, spinning them around, throwing them into the water and dunking them-
packed a lil bag lunch for the two of them, sits pool side with them and forces them to eat at least a little of it
they make quick friends with someone and they spend the rest of the day with them while wilbur watches carefully, reading a book on the side of the pool-
until their eyes are too heavy and they sleep the whole way home
dadbur is great, we love seeing dadbur. i'd like to one up that: protective!dadbur. someone messing with his kid at school? a karen upset at his kid? what if his kid is a teen and going on a date? even better, his kid socks someone in the face for bullying their friend or talking smack about their parents/parents' friends
- cowboy anon
oh cowboy anon- *lovingly sigh* this is unfortunately, everything to me
kid messing with his kid? his baby? absolutely not. you and him butt heads over if fighting is ok, but wilbur insists he wants his kid to be able to handle themselves, take care of themselves, doesn't ever want them to be scared-so they practice defending themselves in the front room and they're like so itty, like whatever elementary school, and he towers over them, so he kneels on the ground, his hands up, lets them take little punches into his hand and he's like, "Yes, good! Go on!" doing those exaggerated shakes like their little fists actually hurt (of course gives them a speech this is only if they need to do it, to defend themselves, not just to do willy nilly)
ok but he would be a total PTA dad. and with pta comes karens. and he'd have the kid on his hip, in the meetings, and a karen would try and come at him, say something sly and he would immediately shoot it down. just straight: "no, actually, we aren't doing that" and he'd give the attitude back like "sorry the kids dont like your shitty snacks, karen. be better, if you dont like it."
listen. kids are cruel. so when a kid is making fun of wilbur for whatever-streaming? playing video games? whatever. and they come home misty eyed and upset but won't tell wilbur why (which destroys him, he's like beside himself with worry, brings them ice cream to their room and is like: hey bud. you wanna talk? and when they refuse, turn their back to face the wall he tries to act like he isnt sad) and when they finally indulge, he's like: you dont need to stand up for me or your parents or anything-they dont matter (he also definetly tries to talk to their parents, tell them to leave his kid alone) which doesnt work so when he gets a call from school that they socked a kid in the face during recess he's like: do you have the right number?? and he picks them up, gets them out of school early, and they go out for ice cream and he holds ice onto their face if the other kid got a punch in but routinely tells them how proud he is, like is smiling so big. thinks his kid is so brave (waits until they go to sleep to call the parents and absolutely go insane on them-yells at them so loud that you're scared for them?? wilbur never yells so you know it's serious)
wilbur hates those dads who show up for the first date with a gun or the "if you hurt them, ill hurt you" but he does give them the: if anything goes wrong, or you're uncomfortable or whatever reason-call me and i'll get you immediately, no questions asked-speech. takes so many pictures of them dressed up for the first date, like is so proud of them, squishes their cheeks and talks about how much they've grown up until they roll their eyes at their dad, smack his hand away but they're smiling so big too
Hello :) I really enjoy your writing and had a small request. How about another dadbur fic where he’s getting his child ready for their first day of kindergarten and it’s just all the happy and sad emotions that his baby is growing up. 💜 anon
hello my love. you all absolutely spoil me, letting me talk about dadbur and sending me stuff about it constantly i just adore you all so much sorry this is less of a fic and more rambling brainrot
him getting up early with them and insisting on doing their hair, they sit cross legged on the vanity and he’s behind them, messy, mismatched piggy tails (that you’ll have to fix later) that he insists on doing because he use to do them every morning, and it's routine.
they're talking his ear off about how excited they are, and he's happy they aren't anxious, because the two of you are anxious all the time, didn't want it to rub off on them, and thankfully, it hasn't yet. and he's listening to their every word
only interrupts when doing their hair to squeeze them close to them in a bear hug, and he's like: "stay with me. I don't want my baby to grow up. stay with papa, you're too big now."
you help them get ready and wilbur is downstairs making breakfast (and you all will act like you don't hear him sniffling throughout the day) going downstairs and they have like their special little first day of school outfit on, and wilbur gasps like runs around the kitchen, breakfast forgotten and has to take a million pictures. of them, of him and them standing in the backyard, all three of you guys together-he has one of those firsy day of school blackboards made with your help that they hold up in all those pictures, wilbur getting progressively tear eyed in them.
both of you guys holding their hands as they walk in, talking your ear off about the school, and the kids, and all these things they can't wait to learn, and wilbur is shooting you worried glances the entire time
getting in and wilbur, who towers over them, hunched over, as they gently lead him by the hand around the room, even if they've never been there before they're showing them the cubby with their name on it, their seat etc
both of you two kneeling on the floor next to their seat, taking turns telling them how proud they are of their baby, and how they'll be back to get them soon-like, expecting them to freak out like the kids around them are, but they're waving goodbye as they go to the rug with their teacher
wilbur holding it together until you both are in the hallway, halfway down the hall, and you look at each other and you're just both crying. he goes in first for the hug, pulls you into a tight squeeze and you both are just. standing in the hallway crying
sitting on the play ground as you wait for their day to be over, glad you packed coffee, sitting at the bench and swapping favorite stories about your child growing up until you two are laughing and sharing pictures with each other, like you two didn't experience it together but it helps
when they're finally out they have pictures for the two of you and wilbur puts them on his shoulders as they walk back to the car, you're going through their tiny backpack, and listening to every story they have already
You like dad!bur? Well based on some of your posts I’m assuming you do? So imagine Wilbur goes one tour and his kid is all sad for the time he’s gone. But then he comes home 1 week early and surprises you and your child and it’s all cute.
as usual, thank you, y’all, for letting me entirely self indulgent with dad!bur
as usual-this got away from me at the beginning, but hang in there i swear i get to it
(and you’re right, it’s my favorite thing ever hahah)
wilbur loves traditions.
it's his one thing.
look, his family was never close growing up, a child of divorce, all the bad that comes with it, either traditions fell off, or it wasn't the same without the other parent, too sad, too pathetic-
so when he finally got his little family, he said he was going to do it right, indulged to you under covers in the middle of the night, pinkies hooked together, his lips pressed against your neck-he was going to get it right.
and he's so hard on himself about it.
like, he facetimes your kid multiple times a day on tour, when they wake up, wants to be involved in that routine as you prop the phone against the toaster and he watches as you two crack eggs into a pan, or in the middle of soundcheck, always plays a song for you two to dance around to in the middle of the living room-calling him literally seconds before he's due on stage-his in ears on, and he's dressed, his guitar over his back-the hallway is dark, but he'll find the quietest place he can, sing quietly into the phone until their eyes are heavy-
so yeah, traditions are pretty serious to wilbur, and him getting off tour a week early was planned months ahead of time, it was close to impossible to keep a secret from you, but he somehow managed-
a red-eye flight later, and it's 4am as he's poured into the streets of your town.
the first order of business, the coffee shop in the middle of town, the largest black coffee he can get his hands on for himself, a latte with all the sugar and cream possible for you-a chocolate milk for the kid-
and gas station donuts.
look, he doesn't get it either, but your face lit up more the time he brought these home, instead of the time he got up early, went to that expensive place downtown-
both in hand, he walks slowly to the home he made with you, needs repairs, has the list in his phone of various projects to do now that he's home-but as he puts the key in the lock, turns it as quietly as he can-this is home-peeling paint and all.
keys shoved on the crooked hook by the door (his bad, he'll admit it) figures he could crawl into bed where you no doubt are-
"Papa?"
a head pops up, a complete carbon copy of him-a mop of messy curly hair on top of a head, unruly no matter what you do to it.
for a second he thinks it's sad; whenever she hears a noise to pop up and think it's her dad, finally home, to be let down all this time-
"No, baby. It's just the house. C'mon, darling let's-" You're stirring, until your head pops up and he's standing in the doorway, crooked glasses on the bridge of his nose, his clothes smell, but it doesn't matter because you're stumbling out of bed, tripping over the cat in the middle of the floor-
"Wilbur!"
and you sound close to tears as you wrap him in your arms and he kisses' your forehead-you only pull away long enough to scold him for not giving you a heads up-
but your daughter has her arms wrapped around his legs, pulling at his jumper-she's wearing one of his old shirts, he realizes, and it practically eats her alive but he picks her up by her armpits, throws her in the air and catches her, peppering kisses on her face and raspberries against her cheek-his arms still around you-
and it's 5 in the morning, and your alarm is going to go off in thirty minutes, but he turns the kitchen light on for you, pulls your chair out and brings paper plates around, piles the donuts on them and sits down for an early breakfast with you two, your daughter on his lap, his hand tangled into yours, and he talks about tour, and all the new stories he has.
