CreepyPasta Parent Scenarios

22. Nicknames

Might not be what suggester had in mind but here:

Jeff The Killer

You often wondered if your father disliked your name, considering how he rarely calls you by your actual name. Resorting to pet names that could sometimes get embarrassing in public.

"Hey, my girl/boy, can you go to the store and get some milk?" Your father asked from the kitchen, the fridge door open as he held an empty milk jug in his hand.

"Sure thing..." You answer, getting up from the couch and deciding to ask, "Uh, dad?"

"Yeah?" He closed the fridge and set the empty jug on the counter, looking over to you as he dug a hand in his jean pocket

"How come you only ever call me nicknames?"

He thought for a moment. His hand pulling out a couple five dollar bills. "I do? Does it bother you?" He walked over and held the money out, his gaze waiting for your answer.

"Yeah, you do and I was just wondering, although it is a little weird." You shrugged, taking the money from his hand and heading over to the front door, "I'll be back."

You looked back to see him nod, murmuring something to himself that was incomprehensible to you and turned away.

"...Alright, bye." You said lastly before leaving to go pick up what he asked.

...

After that day, you notice something was different between you and your father. You had come to realize it was the nicknames that made you feel like something was missing. You managed to awkwardly ask him while you were both out shopping for groceries. "Dad?"

"Yes (Y/N)?" He asked without looking at you, his eyes reading the labels on some spices that he specifically needed.

Him saying your name made you feel guilty, it didn't feel right him calling you that. "Why don't you call me your girl/boy anymore?"

He glanced at you, masking his past hurt and confusedly asked, "I thought you didn't like it when I called you that?"

"Well, no that wasn't exactly what I said, it just feels weird now that you aren't calling me it." You explained with a pink-tinted face. Despite not being embarrassed in public anymore, you couldn't stand your father looking like the hurt way he did now.

The smile slowly crept onto his face, a real one. "Now that we have that cleared up, my girl/boy, can you go grab a bag of flour?"

You grin and nod, heading down the far aisle to collect the heavy bag of flour.

Your not so nice friends, who you hadn't known were there the whole time, laughed and teased, "Hey, my girl/boy!" Hooting with laughter.

You finally acknowledged them and groaned, flipping them the bird before hauling the bag of flour back to your father.

Eyeless Jack (E.J)

"Hey, baby." Your father greeted you as you tugged at his pant legs.

"I'm not a baby! I'm growed up!" Your four-year-old self stated.

He only chuckled and unexpectedly picked you up, giving you a bunch of sloppy kisses. "Never! You aren't allowed to grow up! You need to stay my baby forever!"

You whined, "Eww!" Yet you secretly enjoyed it and let a few giggles slip.

He stopped after a few second and pouted, "Don't you like it when I call you baby? It's my nickname for you, baby."

His sad expression made you cuddle into him quickly exclaiming, "No, I love it! I'm your baby!"

He chuckled again, "Yes, my one and only."

Ben Drowned

Ben went to get you up for school, usually, Mondays are a struggle but you both make it work.

"(Y/N)? Wake up!" Your father knocked and let himself in when you didn't reply.

He watched and awed at your cute position, your sleeping face poking out and the only thing to be seen, blankets covered the rest of you. "Hey, my little burrito! Time for school!"

Your father never stopped calling you that, no matter how much you begged, you were his little burrito for the rest of your life.

Slenderman

"Why do you insist on calling me little one? I'm not so little anymore." You inform your father, sitting in his office, as you had come to visit.

Yet as you say this, he stands up fully, your 20-year-old height still never passing half the height of his tall stature.

"No matter how big you may get, you will always be my little (Y/N)." To emphasize, he scooped you into his arms as if you weighed a feather.

To which you slap his chest slightly, muttering, "Yeah, yeah. I get it old man. Put me down."

He obeyed, he would have smiled if he could, but seeing yours creep onto your embarrassed expression was enough for him.

Ticci Toby

Your father was a fan of the nicknames, calling you anything. Kidlet, kiddy, buddy, squirt.

It was getting embarrassing, but you always caught the happy expression on his face whenever he called you those ridiculous names and let it go every time.

Your father had asked one day, "Hey, (Y/N)? Do you...do you not like it when I c-call you nicknames?"

You thought it was the ultimate opportunity to confess, but imagining his heart-shattering expression made you tear up, "No, I do. I'd rather your special names for me."

He grins at your words, ruffling your hair, "Okay, k-kiddo. What do you want... want for dinner?"

Bloody Painter

You followed in your father's footsteps, diving into the artsy part of your mind. You drew, painted, and even sculpted.

Him giving you the nickname, his little artist.

...You were also little brat when it came to stealing all his sketching pencils but still little "Blank" none the less.