#Dance lessons for toddlers

[siph-by-induction]

abattoir blues / the lyre of orpheus is an album that makes me all nostalgic for being like 3. which is odd since, well, it's abattoir blues / the lyre of orpheus.

[willowchild]

What good parent would send their kid to a dance studio like in dance moms regardless of if they are being filmed. Do you not care about your child?

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

“The monsters gone and your daddy here…”

Batboys as fathers

⸻

1. Jason Todd(ALLL girls, 2-4 girls)

• Protective but soft dad: Looks like he’d teach his kid how to hotwire a car (and maybe he does), but he’s the first to tear up during a school play.

• Reads bedtime stories with dramatic flair: Does all the voices, sometimes throws in a few expletives before quickly correcting himself.

• Rides or dies for his kid: Anyone bullies them? Jason shows up at school with the most terrifying “talk” a teacher or principal has ever had the misfortune of enduring.

• Teaches them practical skills early: Like street smarts, how to throw a punch, and the importance of carrying snacks.

• “If anyone hurts you, just tell Dad” vibes: Then he vanishes for a couple of hours. No one asks questions.

⸻

2. Dick Grayson(3 girls one boy)

• Golden retriever dad: Super involved, enthusiastic, and emotionally available.

• Dance party central: His kid knows every 80s and 90s pop hit. They have choreographed routines.

• Always has a band-aid, a snack, and dad jokes ready: And somehow manages to make even the worst day better.

• Takes a million pictures: Captures every moment — first step, first fall, even the tantrums.

• Teaches empathy and kindness first: Encourages emotional expression and gentle strength.

⸻

3. Tim Drake(2 boys)

• Anxious but dedicated: Googled “how to be a good dad” about 1,500 times.

• Coffee-fueled midnight cuddles: If the kid’s up late, Tim’s probably already awake working on something — but drops everything for them.

• Super into educational toys: Probably has flashcards and a toddler coding game by the time they’re three.

• A quiet anchor: His love is subtle but steady. He might not always know what to say, but his presence means everything.

• Raises a tiny, smart-mouthed mini-detective: And secretly loves it.

⸻

4. Damian Wayne(Twin dad, one of each)

• Surprisingly gentle (with his kid): Doesn’t trust most people with them and is always watching with eagle eyes.

• Teaches discipline, but cuddles in secret: Has a hard time being emotionally open but melts when his child hugs him first.

• Introduces them to animals early: His kid is on a first-name basis with most of the zoo. Also knows how to feed a bat properly by age five.

• Mini-me energy: His kid is probably as stubborn, blunt, and deadly smart as he is.

• Takes parenting as a sacred duty: He’ll raise a warrior, yes, but one who understands mercy and love.

⸻

5. Bruce Wayne(girl)

• Trying his best: He has no idea what he’s doing, even though he has so many children

• Overprotective to the extreme: GPS tracker in their shoes, private security at the playground — you name it.

• Teaches with stories: Lessons often come through stories about “a friend” who was also a vigilante and made mistakes.

• Rare but meaningful vulnerability: Those quiet, late-night talks where Bruce opens up just a little are life-changing.

• Sees being a father as redemption: He’s determined to give his child the safety and love he never had.

⸻

[mashtatosworld]

tiny dancer

summary: your baby has her first dance lesson!

It started, like most things in your house, with Jiyong’s stubborn determination.

“Baby gymnastics,” you suggested, scrolling through a list of toddler-friendly classes on your phone. “I did it when I was her age - it’s great for coordination.”

But he already had his heart set on baby ballet - had done ever since he found out you were pregnant.

Jiyong’s face scrunched up in immediate disapproval. “Gymnastics? Jagi, please. No. Ballet is the foundation of all dance. Besides..." He cleared his throat. "Gymnastics is dangerous."

That was more like it. Your husband, always one to panic over his baby's safety.

“She’s two,” you deadpanned. "She's not going to be doing backflips."

"But picture her in a little tutu. Just - ” His brows drew together, resting his head on your arm as you lay together in bed. “Please. Our tiny ballerina.”

“She won't like it."

You knew your baby. And she had little tolerance for anything delicate, slow or gentle. She constantly jumped off the back of the couch, rolled across your bed - almost flattening Iye one time, and always tried to climb over the baby gates.

Now that you thought about it, maybe Jiyong's frantic states were reasonable...

“I loved it. She'll love it.” He sighed dramatically, like you were depriving her of a destiny written in glitter and tulle. “Come on, imagine her first recital. The little bun in her hair. Please.”

You rolled your eyes - because of course he was already envisioning stage lights and bouquets - but his excitement was contagious, and really, how could you say no when his face lit up like that?

“Fine. Ballet it is.”

“YES!”

Zoa flew off the bed at his loud shout.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The day of her first lesson, Jiyong was up before anyone else - rifling through the tiny ballet clothes you bought, laying out her tutu, tights, and slippers with the kind of reverence usually reserved for his Chanel appearances.

“My baby,” he cooed as she toddled into the room, still half-asleep after breakfast, with her hair sticking out in all directions. “Come here, princess. Appa’s gonna teach you some moves so you’re ready for class.”

He demonstrated a surprisingly graceful plié, then rose up on his toes with a soft arm circle above his head. “See? Easy.”

Diva blinked at him. Then turned and waddled straight for her toy box.

“Wait, wait, no - come back!” Jiyong tried again, gently taking her tiny hands and lifting them into position. She yanked them back to clutch her stuffed animal, totally uninterested. “Okay, okay, we’ll warm up later,” he muttered, already sweating.

Undeterred, he sat her down to get her dressed, wrestling with the tiniest pair of pink tights in existence, muttering curses under his breath every time her chubby legs kicked free. By the time the tutu was on, Jiyong’s hair was sticking up worse than Diva’s.

“Okay, hair time,” he declared, grabbing a brush and a handful of sparkly hair ties. Diva, however, had other plans - squirming, giggling, and wiggling out of his grip.

“Hold still, baby, please - just one bun,” he pleaded, trying to gather her wild hair into something resembling order.

"No." She pouted, shaking her head.

The hairbrush clattered to the floor. The first hairband pinged across the room, followed by another.

“Yah! Why is her hair like this?!” he gritted out, a hair pin balanced between his teeth whilst his hands were occupied with sweeping her hair into his grip and holding her still.

“She gets it from you,” you called from the doorway, amused.

He turned, wide-eyed, the pin falling from his mouth. “No.” he muttered defensively.

You sauntered in, scooping Diva into your lap with practiced ease. “First mistake? You didn’t wet her hair.” You grabbed the spray bottle off the dresser, giving her hair a quick mist. “You’re fighting a bird’s nest right now.”

Jiyong watched in awe as you sectioned and smoothed Diva’s tangled locks with ease. She sat still for you - the traitor - humming softly and pulling curiously at her little slippers as you worked.

“I adore you.” he whispered, like you were a hair magician.

“I know.” You shot him a smug smirk, tying off the perfect little ballet bun. “Stick to creative direction, Ji.”

“Not fair,” he muttered, but softened immediately when Diva turned to the mirror, examining her own reflection.

“Pretty,” she mumbled, patting her head.

Jiyong melted. “The prettiest.”

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The excitement carried all the way to the studio - right up until the teacher, with a gentle smile, explained that parents weren’t allowed to watch the first few lessons.

“It helps them focus,” she explained. “Without distractions or - ” her eyes flickered briefly to Jiyong, “ - hovering.”

You felt him stiffen beside you. “But - I just - ” He trailed off, looking absolutely heartbroken. “I’ll be quiet. I swear.”

“I’m sorry. It’s studio policy.”

“Come on,” you said softly, tugging his sleeve. “Let’s go grab a coffee or something.”

He didn’t budge.

"Do you like music? Specifically rap?" He asked suddenly, crossing his arms.

"Jiyong, no." You yanked him this time, before he could try and pull the 'GDragon' card.

Instead, he was forced to pace the hallway, glancing at the closed studio door every few seconds, his hands fidgeting in his pockets.

“Ji...” you sighed, already knowing where this was going.

“I know Jagi, I just - do you think she's making friends?”

Ever since she had started nursery, you'd been informed she was making friends. But she never spoke about it. She just always shrugged, going back to playing with her toys.

“She’s fine,” you assured him, settling into a seat with your phone.

But of course, he couldn’t leave it alone.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You are scrolling through your schedule for the week when you caught him kneeling on the floor, peeking through the tiny gap in the door’s keyhole - one eye squinted shut, the other trying to catch the smallest glimpse of his baby girl. “Jiyong!”

He jumped back, guilty as anything.

“Sit down,” you scolded. “The other parents are watching.”

“Most of them left!” he tutted fiercely as he stood up from the ground. “They went to get coffee! What kind of parents just leave?”

“Normal ones.” You shrug. “Ones who trust their kids are fine.”

He sat - reluctantly - bouncing his knee, checking the time on his watch every thirty seconds. Every giggle or shuffle from inside made him tense, and by the time the door finally opened, he practically sprinted to scoop Diva up.

“Princess! How was it? Did you have fun? What did you learn? Did you twirl? Did you do pliés? Did you like your teacher? Tell Appa everything!”

Diva, in true Diva fashion, offered exactly two words: “It good.”

“That’s it?” Jiyong blinked. “What about - ”

She wriggled out of his arms until she was reluctantly placed on her feet, and took your hand, already more interested in the snack you promised her than her father’s interrogation. Jiyong followed, looking absolutely perplexed that his daughter - his tiny ballerina - was giving him nothing.

“She’s two,” you reminded him softly. “Give her time.”

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The evening was quiet - you were at the stove, stirring something for dinner, the scent filling the kitchen while Jiyong sat cross-legged on the floor with Diva in the living room.

You were about to ask him to set the table but could hear his soft voice, asking one more time, “Are you sure you don’t want to show Appa what you learned?”

Silence.

You peeked your head around the corner, about to rescue him from another round of toddler evasiveness - when you saw it.

Diva, still in her little pink tights, standing perfectly on her tiptoes, arms raised in a soft circle above her head. She twirled - just once, her balance wobbly but determined, a tiny ballerina in her own world.

Jiyong’s breath caught, his eyes soft with wonder.

He didn’t say a word. He just watched, hands resting in his lap, pride and love written all over his face.

You stayed quiet too, letting them have that moment. You watched as your tiny ballerina danced for her biggest fan, and no one else.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

im so soft for gdad. had to post this after the last angsty one... also posting early since i'll be busy tonight - love mash xx

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure , @maskedcrawford

[witchingwithscissors]

Agathario AU | Agatha just needed a baseball coach for her kid. She didn’t plan on catching feelings.

Agatha studied the young woman who strolled onto her manicured lawn, looking more rebel than structured coach. Her hair was tied back in a no-nonsense ponytail and she exuded an easy confidence that clashed with Agatha’s buttoned-up demeanor.

“Coach Vidal?” Agatha asked, crossing her arms.

“That’s me,” Rio replied, shifting a duffel bag on her shoulder. “You must be Nicky’s mom.”

“Agatha,” she corrected, extending a handshake.

Nicky poked his head out from behind Agatha’s legs. “Are you really a pro ballplayer?”

Rio’s grin softened, and she switched briefly to Spanish. “Claro, pequeñín. Ready to become una estrella?”

Nicky’s eyes lit up. “You speak Spanish?”

“Grew up with it,” Rio said proudly, then winked at Agatha. “We can do lessons in both languages if you want.”

Agatha felt a tug in her chest at the easy way Rio included her son. Maybe hiring this woman had been the right call after all.

The first few weeks followed a steady pattern. Rio arrived twice a week to teach Nicky batting, pitching, and fielding. She teased him gently, guided him with a firm but patient hand, and didn’t seem to mind if he talked non-stop about cartoon superheroes in between drills.

Agatha hovered at a polite distance, watching. There was a careful neutrality to their exchanges; after all, she had hired Rio for a service, nothing more. Still, she couldn’t help warming to the girl’s enthusiasm and the way Nicky’s eyes danced whenever Rio praised him.

One evening, after Nicky sprawled out on the couch, exhausted from practice, Rio lingered to chat with Agatha in the kitchen. Soft conversation about baseball turned into more personal confessions like how Rio’s childhood had been turbulent, how she moved around too much to keep friends, or how Agatha had been a single mom since Nicky was a toddler.

A small hush settled as they each realized: They were sharing more than just small talk. And neither seemed ready to stop.

Agatha prided herself on being composed, but she found her thoughts drifting to Rio’s half-smile or her easy laugh at odd moments—during work meetings or while sorting laundry. Sometimes she’d recall the way Rio guided Nicky’s hands on the bat, so patient and earnest.

For Rio, the feeling was mutual. She’d arrive at the Harkness home and feel inexplicable relief like walking into a place she was actually wanted. She found herself joking in Spanish with Nicky, then translating for Agatha, who watched it all with a soft, guarded smile.

Over dinner one night—Agatha had insisted Rio stay, “since you’re already here”—Rio set down her fork and looked up. “I’m not… good at being part of people’s lives. I usually move on quick.”

Agatha poured more water for both of them. “I understand. I’m not great at letting people in, either.”

A flicker of vulnerability passed between them. Rio forced a grin, diffusing the heaviness. “We’re quite a pair, huh?”

Agatha merely smiled in that quiet, knowing way. “Maybe we are.”

A few weeks later, after a particularly great practice session, Rio turned to Agatha with a spark in her eye. “Let me take you somewhere fun tonight. A date, if you’re up for it.”

Agatha arched an eyebrow, intrigued. She’d half-expected a swanky bar or a chic restaurant. Instead, when they pulled up to an old-school batting cage on the edge of town, she let out a surprised laugh. “Seriously? This is your idea of a first date?”

Rio shrugged, pulling out two bats from her trunk. “Hey, I promised it’d be fun.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, but a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. “Alright. Impress me.”

Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, illuminating the row of cages. The muffled clang of metal on baseball echoed around them. Rio slid a token into the machine, stepped up to the plate, and cracked a ball dead center on her first swing. She launched several more in quick succession, her body relaxed and confident.

Watching from behind the chain-link, Agatha tried not to stare too blatantly at Rio’s toned arms, the flash of delicate skin as her shirt lifted with each swing. Still, a flutter in her stomach reminded her she wasn’t immune to the quiet lure of this woman.

When it was Agatha’s turn, Rio insisted on helping her form. “Loosen your grip,” Rio murmured, stepping behind her. Her hands slid over Agatha’s, guiding the bat. Their bodies almost touched, heat radiating between them.

Agatha swallowed hard, inhaling the faint scent of Rio’s shampoo. “You’re making this… distracting,” she teased breathlessly.

Rio’s lips curved near Agatha’s ear. “Maybe that’s on purpose.”

Agatha half-laughed, half-sighed. “You’re a lot of talk, you know that?”

Rio chuckled. “You can handle it.”

Agatha swung the bat… and missed by a mile. Both dissolved into laughter. But as the humor subsided, an underlying tension remained, heavier and more significant than simple flirtation.

After a few awkward misses, Rio hit pause on the machine. Agatha lowered the bat, feeling her heart pound. The realization struck her: She wanted this closeness with Rio. And not just tonight, but something real. Something a single mother like her had to be cautious about.

Rio noticed her pensive expression. “You okay, sweetheart?”

Agatha set the bat aside. “If we keep going,” she began softly, “it can’t just be a fling. I can’t do casual, Rio. I have a son to think about.”

Rio’s eyes flickered with understanding. “You think I’d do all this just to walk away?”

Agatha shrugged, vulnerability creeping into her posture. “I’m not sure...”

Rio nodded, stepping closer, voice steady but gentle. “I’m not walking away from this.”

Relief flooded Agatha’s features. She inhaled slowly, processing the weight of it. And then, they shared a look—both terrified and thrilled—before Rio tugged her in for a slow, tender kiss, their first real acknowledgment that this went beyond attraction.

When they finally pulled apart, Agatha rested her forehead against Rio’s shoulder. “A batting cage,” she murmured, a hint of humor in her tone. “You took me to a batting cage.”

Rio laughed softly, arms circling Agatha’s waist. “Next time let’s bring Nicky.”

In the following weeks, the lines between friend, coach, and potential partner blurred in a warmer, more open way. Nicky didn’t know the full extent of their new relationship, but he picked up on the extra smiles, the gentle touches when Rio and Agatha thought he wasn’t looking.

They continued their usual practices where Nicky’s batting form improved and Rio’s Spanish lessons made him giggle. Afterward, though, the three of them had dinner together, or occasionally went out for ice cream. On quieter nights, Agatha and Rio curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine, talking until midnight and a half.

Still, doubts crept in. Agatha worried about letting Rio into Nicky’s life too deeply, in case it all fell apart. Rio wrestled with her own history of drifting away whenever things got intense. Yet each time doubt rose, they found reasons to stay.

When Nicky asked Rio for help on a school project, it felt natural for Rio to spend a Saturday afternoon scattered with glue sticks and cardboard cutouts. Agatha watched from the kitchen doorway, heart swelling at the sight of her son beaming whenever Rio gave praise.

Agatha set down the dish she was washing and joined them at the table, silently thinking: Is this it? Is this how family forms—not in one grand moment, but in a series of small ones?

Rio caught her eye, smiling softly. Agatha felt a rush of gratitude for this messy, wonderful reality. That night, as they lay side by side on Agatha’s couch, exhaustion weighing on both, Rio confessed in a murmur, “I want this. You. Him. Even if it means settling down more than I ever have before.”

Agatha’s response was a gentle kiss and the whispered promise, “I’m scared, too. But I’m in.”

Eventually, Rio moved into the spare room “temporarily,” but no one bought that label for long. Nicky clung to her at bedtime, asking for Spanish lullabies or quick pep talks before important Little League games. She fit into their routine so seamlessly, it felt like she’d always been there.

One Sunday morning, Nicky bounded into the kitchen, hair disheveled, wearing his tiny baseball pajama set. Rio was frying eggs while Agatha skimmed the newspaper. She was old-fashioned that way. Without pausing, Nicky tugged on Rio’s shirt, blurting out, “Mami, can I have mine scrambled?”

Rio’s hand froze on the spatula. Agatha’s eyes shot up, breath caught in her throat. For a moment, Nicky didn’t realize the significance and he just thought he’d asked a question. But when Rio turned, her expression conflicted and tender all at once, he flushed.

“I—I mean, Rio,” he stammered, as if afraid he’d done something wrong.

Rio breathed out, heart hammering. “No, it’s okay.” She crouched down, meeting Nicky’s gaze. “If that’s what you want to call me… I’d be honored.”

Nicky’s shoulders eased, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “Okay, Mami.”

Agatha stood by, tears pricking her eyes. She reached over, resting a hand on Rio’s back, silently conveying that she was on board. This wasn’t a trivial word; it was a quiet vow that their family bond had become something real, something they all wanted to keep.

A little more here.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

chance of showers

pairing: leon x reader

cws: piss, p in v, pee in v, ddlg

a/n: yeah, it was bound to happen, wasn't it? the double sin of ddlg and piss

wc: 1.5k

taglist | ko-fi | masterlist

These days, Leon bids you adieu in the threshold between your typical affection and your faux-innocence facade that comes with a side of fuck-me eyes. That’s when Daddy takes over. 

When he comes home from work, he can sense the desperation threatening to boil over into teary-eyed, delirious begging so he gives you an offer you can’t refuse: he’ll be your chauffeur to the not-quite-luxurious sex-filled sanctuary of your shared bedroom. That is to say, he’ll carry you across the hall where he can fuck you stupid without all the back pain that a couch rendezvous would give him.

You greet him with a hug and a heart-eyed grin, immediately discarding all previous activities for his attention. You’ve been gorilla-glue stuck to the TV all day due to the once a week chance to watch all the High School Musical movies on cable — which Leon still pays for — one after the other. He can tell by your antsy legs, shifting from one foot to the other. It’s not nerves– daddy makes you relaxed. No, it’s a cute little pee-pee dance.

“Do you need to do something before we go have some fun together?”

“Uh-uh. I wanna have special time with daddy now.”

“Are you sure? If you need to go pee, daddy can wait for you.”

“I don’t need to go.”

Leon doesn’t need a polygraph test to know that’s a fucking lie. 

But, you’re a big girl, or, at least, you’ve insisted that you are whenever Leon challenges that silly little ‘fact’ you’ve tried to manifest into reality. 

The reality is: you need daddy’s help, particularly when you’re in this state. 

Leon should take you by the hand and lead you to the bathroom, he should tell, not ask. But, it’s like letting your toddler touch the hot stove just once – they’ll learn their lesson and they’ll never do it again. 

You’re an adult who has the reasoning skills to know that you should pee. Plus, it’s not like pissing yourself is anything more than an embarrassing moment and a bitch to clean up. 

So, Leon doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he has you how he wants you. All fucked-out, your pussy stuffed so full you can see his dick in your abdomen and your brain completely empty of all thoughts (and your bladder so full he could make you burst if he pressed on your stomach with enough force). 

As he often does, Leon makes you ride him because he thinks it’s cute to watch you struggle, and he inevitably takes over the job of gripping your hips and pulling them back down to meet his. Over and over again until you think you’re going to pass out. 

Your eyes are screwed shut and your mouth is occupied with your constant moaning – until you have an ‘uh-oh’ moment. Leon can see it flash across your face. 

“Daddy,” you manage through a shaky voice. “No more, no more.”

The thing is: No more isn’t your safe word. No more is usually what you say when everything feels so intense that you’re overwhelmed and need Leon’s reassurance. He rubs your back and showers you in praise while he continues to fuck you as the unwritten protocol says he should. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he says. “You’re doing so good for me.”

“No, no,” you protest, shaking your head vehemently. “Have to go pee, daddy.”

“Baby, we’ve been through this before, remember? The first time you squirted, you thought you were gonna pee, but you didn’t. You liked that feeling, right?”

It’s true. You were absolutely convinced you’d pee yourself the first time Leon made you squirt, but you both suspect this time is different. 

“No, I’m really gonna pee this time.”

You’re clenching around him, he can feel it. Maybe you are going to squirt, he thinks. 

Piss is hardly the worst thing Leon’s been covered in – he’s 40 years old, old enough to give up on giving a fuck about this kind of thing. And, God, he’ll take any chance to tease you. 

“Didn’t Daddy ask you if you needed to go pee earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did you say?”

“No.”

“Was that a lie? Did you lie to Daddy?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, since you made your choice by yourself and didn’t want daddy’s help, you’re not gonna get it. You can hold it until I’m done with you.”

“No, I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.”

“Then, I guess you’ll just have to let it out.”

“No, no, no, no, no. I don’t want to. I wanna hold it.”

Go right ahead, he thinks, as he continues to fuck you, completely disregarding your desperation. He wants to see you break and at this point, you’re doing anything to hold back, on the verge of tears. 

“Daddy, I’m sorry,” you start to cry as warm liquid trickles out of you, coating his cock little by little as pee continues to flow from you. You only leak a little in the grand scheme of things, but you’re humiliated, full-on crying to the point where it’s worrisome.

Finally, he slows his thrusts. 

“Hey,” he rubs your back soothingly. “It’s okay. You’re not in trouble. I told you you could do it. I’m not mad at you.”

“It’s so embarrassing.”

“There’s no reason to be embarrassed. I bet it felt good to let go. Didn’t it?”

“A little bit… but I still have to go more.”

“Then, go, baby. Let it out.”

Because, one, it doesn’t matter at this point – he’ll have to change the sheets anyway. And, two, he finds the whole ordeal a bit more arousing than he suspected he would. 

When you dare to make eye-contact, you’ve got doubt written all over you, like you think this is some sort of trap or a sacrifice of his comfort for yours. 

“Go ahead. It’s gonna feel good.”

Nervous, but desperate, you have to let go. 

Leon praises you as you finally allow yourself some relief, releasing short bursts and then a steady stream. 

“You’re doing so well for me, baby. Let it all out.”

When the torrential downpour slows to a leaky faucet, his thumb finds its way to your clit and he resumes his thrusts, gaining momentum steadily. 

Your next revelation is not an ‘uh-oh’, just an ‘oh’ in a series of incoherent moans. 

“Daddy, daddy, I’m gonna-”

“I know you are.”

Neither of you can be sure if your next release is pee or squirt but what matters is that you came, squeezing Leon’s cock so perfectly that he’s barely hanging on by the time you’re coming down from your  high. 

Usually, he asks you where you want it, makes you beg for it inside, and he finally gives it to you, but now, his face is already buried in the crook of your shoulder as he’s given into the pleasure. 

He fills you to the brim, ruins the bed a little more for the sake of a heavenly orgasm. It’s totally fucking worth it every time. 

After a moment of silence, he pats you on the butt and says, “hop up, baby”.

“No,” you protest, wrapping your arms around him. 

“Baby, I’ll come right back, but I gotta pee.”

He laughs a little at the irony. It feels cruel in a way to make you piss yourself while he gets a more dignified experience. 

You’re ready to even out the score, quick to turn the tables. 

“No,” you insist. “You can either hold it or wait until I’m done with you.”

Leon should’ve anticipated your smartass move. 

“You really want me to piss inside you? ‘Cause that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t let me get up.”

It’s a threat, it’s a promise, it’s a plea for you to let him go. 

“It’s only fair,” you say. 

“Fine,” he concedes, repositioning you so that you’re on your back. Yeah, he could get up, he could win now that he’s on top, but maybe there’s a part of him that wants to do this. To make you regret your attitude when you find out what it feels like for Leon to piss inside you, to prove something to you, to punish you – there are so many excuses, but the truth is: the idea excites him. 

“You ready?” he asks – though the question is more directed at himself as stage fright begins to creep up inside him. 

“You can do it, daddy,” you say, voice full of genuine encouragement rather than your previous taunting tone. 

So, he does. The release is double the relief with your warmth surrounding him as he lets go. You look awfully curious, almost in awe of the fact that it’s happening, especially since you can’t exactly see it – at least, not yet. But Leon’s feeling the type of relaxation that less obstinate people get from meditation. 

“All done,” he says, knowing that’s a fucking lie, but pulling out anyway, letting the last droplets hit you on the stomach.

“Daddy!” you say, amusement barely hidden behind your mild vexation. 

“Sorry,” he says with a shrug and a smirk that says he’s anything but. 

“I think it’s time for a trip to the bathroom. We really need to shower,” you say. 

“Hey, I just gave you a little bit of a shower, baby. If you wanted more, you could’ve asked.”

But that kind of shower will have to wait until next time. 

[elizabethsnuts]

can you write bucky and nat’s daughter starting ballet class when she’s still very little

Little Ballerina

WinterWidow x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Bucky took you to your first ballet lesson.

———

Natasha gently fixed your tiny pink tutu, making sure your hair was all neat. Natasha and Bucky wanted to get you started in ballet early, you loved watching Natasha do it and would always try and copy her.

Natasha grinned and stepped back, taking a second to look at you in your adorable ballet outfit. “Look at you, my little love! You look just like Mama!”

Bucky smiled widely and picked you up, spinning you around. “Look at my little ballerina! You ready for your first class?”

You nodded eagerly and sucked your pacifier, giggling softly as both Natasha and Bucky complimented you. “Ballerina.”

Natasha nodded and kissed your little cheek, grabbing your tiny ballet shoes. “That’s right, Y/N! You are a ballerina! You’re so adorable.”

You sat down on the floor as Natasha crouched down in front of you, helping you put your ballet shoes on your tiny feet. You were so impatient, you just wanted to start dancing already. “Dance like Mama.”

Natasha chuckled, tying your ballet shoes. “You definitely are going to dance just like Mama! You’re going to be a natural just like me.”

Eventually, you were ready to go, Natasha and Bucky obviously stayed to watch your class. You toddled over to your parents and smiled. “Mama, Daddy, watch.”

Natasha chuckled and nodded, kissing your forehead. “We’re watching, sweetheart!”

Bucky nodded in agreement and tickled you slightly, causing you to let out a giggle. “We are going to be watching the whole time, baby doll.”

You giggled again and toddled back over to the ballet teachers and other little toddlers who were in the class. You were eagerly showing your teacher your pointed toes, you had been practising them a lot with Natasha.

The teacher smiled and gave you a fairy clap. “Look at your pointed toes, Y/N! You must have been practising before you got here.”

You nodded and grinned, pointing your tiny toes again. “With Mama. Ballerina.”

The teacher chuckled, nodding her head in amusement. She was actually pretty impressed with your pointed toes. “Your Mama must be a very good teacher then because those are some of the most perfect pointed toes I’ve seen!”

You were having tons of fun in your class, even chatting with the other little girls there. You were currently sitting on the floor with a girl, showing her your pointed toes. “See, point.”

The girl nodded slowly and arched her foot. “Point.”

You nodded in agreement, although you knew your pointed toes were better. “Practice.”

There was a point in the class where the other mums were able to join in with the class, helping their daughters with ballet. Natasha had your tiny hands in hers, putting them over your little head. “Step… step… good girl! You’re doing such a good job, N/N!”

Your giggles were contagious, you were having the time of your life. You kept your tiny arms over your head and took small steps like Natasha said. “Ballerina.”

Natasha nodded and smiled, continuing to guide you with the dancing. “Such a perfect little ballerina.”

Bucky was busy trying to take videos from the side, it was your first ballet lesson so he was trying to capture as much as possible. He wanted to keep this mother-daughter moment forever.

The ballet lesson was just as exciting as you had made it out to be, you were finally learning to be a ballerina just like her mama and Natasha couldn’t have been more proud. You were the light of her life, she loved that you wanted to do ballet just like she did. You’d always be her little ballerina.

[redbleedingrose]

Imagine a girldad!Eris when his little daughter tell him she wanna be a Highlady one day when she grow up. Like feyra from the nightcourt

Girl Dad!Eris has raised his twin toddlers, Twila and Marwa, to believe they will be high ladies of the Autumn Court one day. Their duties will be evenly split together, none of the "whoever is the oldest will gain the throne" bs.

Marwa and Twila start tutoring early on in their lives, once they are able to sit still at a table. Whether it is arts and crafts, history lessons, language arts, reading, writing, dance, etc. They have a well rounded education because Eris believes that all children should be educated and should have access to education.

Once he became high lord of autumn court, one of the first laws he actually implemented was ridding the court of child labour and enforcing public school systems.

Both girls will share duties between themselves, however if one of them decided that this was not what they wanted in their future, Eris has made sure they don't feel obligated.

Once they are older, Eris talks to each of them separately and multiple times, to ensure neither feel obligated to take over ruling, it is hard and exhausting work, and can often be dangerous.

Eris would be the type of dad to encourage any and all hobbies of his daughters, whether it is riding horses or gardening, he would do anything for his little girls, including buying a hundred horses and building a whole ranch or having a whole green house set up in his backyard forest for his girls.

He is a good papa, and I live for him.

[desi2go]

One photoshoot away from love

pairing: Minho x idol! reader

warnings: fluff

request: So reader is also a kpop idol but she's like only in the industry for 2-2.5 years. She's in a girl group and recently announced as global embassador of a luxury brand. This one time she would feature on magazine cover with one of stray kids' members and that member his her bias. The magazine cover is a success and their fan loving it and they get shipped together. And because she said he's her bias, that stray kids member said he gonna write her a song and he did and the internet kinda blow up.

Music. Music was alsways home. Something you could turn to when there was no way out. When everything terrified you or it seemed impossible to reach your dreams.

Music was your safe haven from a really young age. Just as a five year old toddler, you sang to all the songs in the radio even if you didn't even understood all the lyrics. You even bothered your parents to let you take lessons with a vocal coach for weeks until they finally agreed. Eventually, they seemed glad that you loved singing so much and happily supported you. You improved really fast and your angelic voice seemed to enchant everyone at every single performance at school.

Whenever someone asked you what you wanted to be when you grow up, the answer was clear. "I want to be a singer!" They all laughed at you, smiling and patting your head like they didn't even think that you could actually become one. For them it was just a dream, soon to be forgotten once you hit puberty and the reality, but you weren't joking. And you trained every day for it.

Around the age of ten, you started hearing some music from kpop groups and it was the first time you actually considered to audition at a company when you were old enough. They would give you training and support you when you were good enough. So, you convinced your parents to let you take some dance lessons too so that your chances for an acception would be higher.

Dancing was something you really enjoyed even though it wouldn't replace singing but it brought you even closer to the melody and the rhythm. You felt even more connected with the lyrics and the music all in all.

At the age of sixteen, you decided to give it a try. Several companies had announced auditions and you figured it would be the best time to try it. What could go wrong? You had trained for this moment your whole life and you couldn't be better prepared.

The auditions went really well and soon your held your acceptance in your hand to be a trainee at SM entertainment. Your parents were so proud of you and you loved the time as a trainee even though it was so difficult to balance school and training but you enjoyed the time. You learned so much in that tie and your singing as well as your dancing improved.

During your monthly presentations, your trainers noted your effort and improvement and after three years, you finally debuted in a girl group with four more girl you had met as a trainee. You were placed as one of the vocalists and visuals.

After debut, your group seemed to gain more and more attention from the fans and you must admit that you enjoyed to perform, the energy flowed through you carrying you like a wave.

Nearly three years after debut, it wasn't uncommon for you to have photoshootings for model magazines or other brands. But as soon as the message came that you would be the global ambassador of one of the most well-known luxury brand, you were shocked. This wasn't something that happenend all the time. And the brand was Gucci and they actually planned you to be on the magazine cover.

Just one week before the shooting, you received the message that you would model with Lee Know from Stray Kids. Since you loved Kpop since being a child, you knew pretty well who Lee Know was. I mean, how could you not? His group was really famous for their vibing songs and their chaotic behaviour.

And you were thrilled to meet him face to face. He was like a role model to you. When the other members of your group received the message, they were happy for you and urged to know who your bias in Stray Kids was, knowing damn well that you enjoyed listening to Kpop.

"Come on! You can't just keep it a secret! We won't tell anyone!" One member shouted, clapping excited with her hands.

"No. That's my secret" you claimed, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"I bet it's Lee Know" another stated and you tried to keep your face from burning up. How right she was...

The maknae noticed your shy behaviour. "HA! It is!" she laughed as you blushed and hid your face in your hands. Sometimes you hated them.

"That's so cool! You must tell us every little detail as soon as you're back" another demanded and you quickly escaped their hold to get to the location for the photoshoot.

During the whole drive, you were nervous and you bit your lip to get you to concentrate. You were an idol for god's sake, so act like one! But your hands got clammy when you stepped out of the car, following your manager inside the location.

You were already used to the turmoil with the manager and assitants running around. An assistant from Gucci greeted you with a bow and lead you to the dressing room. Precisely, she helped you change into a beautiful black dress that ended just above your knees, showing your long soft legs. It was made for you.

The soft faric hugged your body like a second skin, bringing your waist out and your chest. You felt like a queen. It exposed your shoulders and closed lowly around your neck, leaving space for a beautiful necklace.

The shoes were a dream in black, making you even taller and graceful. In Addition, your hair was styled in soft defined waves, falling over your shoulders. The makeup stylist worked on your face in the meantime. She applied foundation and a glowy highlighter as well as a brown eyeshadow that complimented your eyes and made them sparkle even more. The red lipstick brought the attention to your rounded lips, the only thing that had a colour so that it would glow in the photos.

After an hour, they had finished their work satisfied and the assistant lead you to the actual photo location. You felt the nervousness pumping through your veins as you greeted the photographer and the rest of the staff. Just moments later, Lee Know walked through the same door with a charming smile and a low bow to greet everyone.

He looked stunning in the black suit with the white chemise that exposed a bit of skin, leaving everything to your imagination. His hair was styled classy and showed off his beautiful eyes.

"Nice to meet you Y/n" he greeted you with a smile, taking your hand to shake it while he bowed deep. You replied in the same gesture. "Nice to meet you too. I'm honoured to work with you"

He smiled and patted your hand without anyone noticing. "I look forward to work with you"

Internally, you were freaking out like a teenager crushing over meeting her role model. You felt the blush on your cheeks and tried everything to keep it low.

The photographer explained to you both how you should express yourself on the photos even stating what poses he wanted to see.

You swallowed and moved yourself in front of the white background with Minho following. You started with simple things, leaning your back against each other while staring at the camera with a dashing smile. His back was warm and you felt the muscles under his clothes, soft but at the same time strong.

The other pose showed strength and intimacy. Minho was sitting tall behind you, leaning slightly forward to show more of his skin that was exposed by the open bottoms of his chemise. His right arm rested on his knee, giving him a composed and thoughtful look. His facial expression is confident with his gaze directed to the photographer.

You were seated in front of him, leaning forward as well with your body slightly angled towards the camera. Your elbow was resting on your knee, emphazising your long legs and your hand supported lazily your head.

The photographer liked those photos and during the shooting, both you and Minho laughed a lot, connecting really fast when you told him that you had a cat too.

You two shared some funny cat stories and grew more comfortable around the other.

The photographer suggested more intimacy in the photos. In this image, you two posed intimately close. He stood behind you, your faces close together as he rested his head over your shoulder. You chose a soft and serene gaze to pierce through the camera. you felt one of Minho's hand sneaking around your waist, pulling you even closer. Your physical proximity showed a subtle mixure of tenderness and resilience.

The photographer was pleased with the outcome and thanked you for working so well. Even after finishing the shooting, you couldn't stop speaking with him. He was so kind-hearted and funny, inspiring you. And soon, you were back your dorms, sad that the experience was over.

Some weeks later, the magazine was published with you and Minho on the cover. It was an understatement to say that the fans went wild. Social media was full of images of the photoshooting and nearly everyone shipped you both, making you blush.

When you went live one evening to speak to your fans, you read often the question if you and Minho were a pair. You declined and even more messages followed, asking you different things about Minho. Sadly, you couldn't give many answers and when they questioned who your bias was, you admitted shy that he was it.

The fans went wild again and you were now completely sure that Minho knew about your secret crush on him.

Chan from Stray Kids announced in one of his livestreams that Minho had been working on an own song since his photoshoot for Gucci and fans spaculated that it had something to do with you.

Weeks when the hype went down a bit, Minho released a single. At first, due to training you couldn't listen to it but when fans went wild again, claiming that he definitely wrote it for you, you needed to hear it.

It was a love ballad and you loved the melody and rhythm at the first notes. His soft voice told a story about a girl he met. In the song, he described her as beautiful, the deep red lips that attracted him like it was essential for surviving.

I saw you there, in that moment of light A vision in black, like the stars in the night Your deep red lips whispered things you didn’t say And I stood frozen, as the world slipped away

You didn’t know it, but you captured my soul Every glance you gave me made me lose control The camera was flashing, but all I could see Was the way you moved, like a shadow's melody

You're the midnight that I can't forget Wrapped in a mystery I haven't solved yet The way you move, like whispers in the air A perfect storm that I can’t help but stare In the silence, your elegance stays Draped in the night, in a world of shades

Your smile was soft, like a hidden sunrise But there was fire burning deep in your eyes You moved like a dream, as the lights hit your face And I knew I was lost, caught up in your grace

I kept my distance, but inside I screamed You walked through my life like a midnight dream I wanted to tell you, but how could I dare To let you know that I was falling right there

You're the midnight that I can't forget Wrapped in a mystery I haven't solved yet The way you move, like whispers in the air A perfect storm that I can’t help but stare In the silence, your elegance stays Draped in the night, in a world of shades

Maybe one day, you'll hear this song In the quiet of night, when the world feels wrong And maybe you’ll wonder who it was for But I’ll just stay silent, forever wanting more

You're the midnight that I can't forget Wrapped in a mystery I haven't solved yet The way you move, like whispers in the air A perfect storm that I can’t help but stare In the silence, your elegance stays Draped in the night, in a world of shades

In the shadows, I’ll keep you near A secret flame, forever clear You’ll always be a part of me This hidden love, my melody...

You coudln't stop the smile forming on your lips. "Vision in black" was definitely a metaphor for a black dress and the red lipstick hinted that this song was adressed to you. Tears formed in your eyes at the intimacy of the song.

Just seconds later, a message plopped up on your phone. A message on instagram from Minho.

<<Hoped you liked my song>> he had texted with a cat emoji and a smile formed on your lips as you answered quick.

[angrythingstarlight]

Was Bee nervous about her first day of preschool, or even her first ballet lesson? Or was she excited for both?

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader, daughter nicknamed Bumblebee.

WC: Drabble.

AN: Part of the Bumblebee series.

The Art in Motion dance studio is highly recommended. Exclusive. Private.

The small building is tucked away behind a couple larger businesses. It's easy to overlook unless you're looking for it. Once you find though, it's hard to miss the inviting sign with the name painted on it in a swirl of pinks and purples. Floor-to-ceiling windows decorated with cartoon ballerinas flank the double doors. Soft music filters through an open window along overlapping conversations.

As you walk up the flower-lined path to the entrance, you smile down at your toddler. Her wide eyes taking the world around her before settling on the window. A small group of girls a little older than Bee are dressed in pink tutus prance around the room while their teacher looks on.

You're almost at the door when Bee wraps her arms around your leg. "Mommy," she whispers, her cheek pressing into your calf.

"Yes?"

Her eyes locked on the girls now dropping to the ground with varying dramatic flairs. "I needs to go to my office. I think I forgots something."

It's rare to hear a nervous tremble in her usually bright voice. Your heart lurches in your chest and you crouch down to her level. "How about we go to your office after we see your class?"

Her brows furrow and her gaze drops. She mumbles so softly you can't hear her, raising one little shoulder. Her bottom lip forming the slightest pout.

"What's wrong, Bee?" You ask, taking her face in your hands, you smile gently when she glances up at you.

"I jus' wanna go to my office. Or we—we can go to your office mommy and I can helps you with work."

You remember the day she started pre-school, she was so excited, practically dancing in the car on the ride over, hopping up the stairs and chattering away until she was standing outside the room, suddenly so nervous and scared that Bucky almost took her back home.

You convinced both of them to let her stay at least an hour. If she absolutely hated it, she could go home. You were banking on her sweet, outgoing personality to override her nerves.

You were right.

Within ten minutes, Bee had become friends with several of her classmates including Frankie.

You thought she might have the same reaction starting dance school so this time you arranged for her to tour the place before her first class.

"How about we go inside and take a look around? We can see your classroom and meet your teacher so we can be ready for your first day. And after we're all done, we can go to your office and tell your papa how brave you were," you offer with a reassuring grin, taking her hands in yours. "I'll be right here the whole time."

You can tell she's mulling over your words, her eyes shifting between you and the building. And you can tell the second she makes up her mind. Bee trusts you more than anything. As worried as she is about trying something new, she already feels braver with you holding her hand. "Okay mommy."

"We're going to have so much fun."

You both look up as the doors open and a tall, graceful woman steps out, a slight smile pulling at her lips.

"Welcome to the Art in Motion studio. We've been waiting for you."

[lulublack90]

Prompt 26 - Amortentia

@wolfstarmicrofic April 26, word count 462

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

It was the best Halloween Remus had had in ages. Hogwarts had probably been the last. He’d eaten far too much chocolate, not that that was a thing, and danced with Sirius in front of the Potter’s fireplace. Peter had been meant to come, but he hadn’t turned up. 

“It’s not like him to not at least send an owl,” James said worriedly. 

“I’ll go check on him tomorrow,” Sirius promised. His arm was lazily thrown across the back of the sofa behind Remus’s head. It made him feel like a schoolboy again. He was positively giddy, though that might be the huge amount of sugar currently coursing through his body. He caught a whiff of Sirius’s cologne and thought back to that time in potions when old Slughorn had shown them the Amortentia potion. He’d told Sirius that he needed to stop bathing in his cologne as it was way too strong. Sirius had answered he hadn’t even put any on that morning. You could have cooked an egg on Remus’s face, he blushed so hard. Sirius had then chastised him for not being able to even go one lesson without eating chocolate. Remus was listening to Slughorn describe the shimmering potion in the cauldron before him. James and Peter had teased them relentlessly and then he and Sirius had had a talk and the rest is history. 

“I’ll come with you,” Remus said to Sirius. 

“You don’t have to,” 

“I know, but I want to,” Sirius leant over and kissed him. 

“Padfoot!” Harry grinned, running over to them, covered in bubbles and completely naked. 

“Harry James Potter, you get back in this bath right now young man, it’s time for bed!” Lily shouted from the bathroom. James got up from his chair, leaving his wand behind and grabbed the slippery toddler and rushed him back to the bathroom. 

“Keep a lookout for me, will you?” Sirius whispered and grabbed James’s wand. He muttered a spell over it and snickered as he put it back where he’d got it from. Remus raised an eyebrow at him and Sirius snickered again. “I put the same jinx on it that James put on my keys. He’s going to be finding his wand all over the place for the next week. 

“You two staying tonight? Lily’s making pancakes for breakfast,” James asked as he came back into the living room. Remus and Sirius looked at each other. 

“Sure,” they said in unison.

“Excellent. Er, has anyone seen my wand?” James looked puzzled as he pulled the cushions off the chair and dropped to the floor to look under it. Remus had to bite his fist to stop himself from bursting out laughing. James was definitely going to murder Sirius when he figured it out. 

Part 6

[redroomreflections]

All of the Good Things

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A Family of Her Own Series

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 4.3k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Natasha and R are on the run together.

The gentle sound of water lapping against the sides of the pool harmonized with the chirping of birds on the cool summer day. Summer in Versailles hadn't been on either of your bucket lists, but you can't imagine being anywhere else. Natasha stands in the shallow end of the pool, Stella in her arms, as they wade in the water. The pool was shaded perfectly by towering trees, their leaves creating a dappled pattern of sunlight on the surface of the water, glimmering like diamonds.

The air was filled with the scent of blooming lavender from the nearby garden, adding a sweet aroma that mingled with the fresh, crisp scent of the water. Natasha’s laughter mingled with the gentle breeze as she gently rocked Stella, teaching her how to float.

"You have to hold your head above the water," Natasha informed the two-year-old as she attempted to let her go. Stella shook her head, ignoring Natasha's words, as she wanted to pretend to be a shark. "Stella," Natasha asked again as she placed the toddler on the poolside.

"Shh, I'm listening to the waves," Stella held up a tiny hand. Natasha shook her head in amusement and stood in front of her in case she decided to jump in like earlier.

"Are there waves in a pool?" Natasha questioned. Stella's face scrunched up as she listened intently to the gentle splashes against the pool wall, deciding how to answer.

"Yes," Stella replied after a few moments. "And they're making music," she added.

“Oh, they are? What kind of music are they playing?" Natasha played along.

"Water music," Stella stated matter-of-factly.

"You love swimming this much?" Natasha questioned. It appeared almost rhetorical.

"She was born in a pool. What did you expect?" You said as you came out of the house with Nicky in your arms. He looked adorable in his cute red swim shorts and sun hat. Unlike his sister, he wasn't appreciative of the infinity pool that came with the rental, his little brow furrowed as he gazed at the water with skepticism.

Natasha found herself too distracted to add to the conversation, her gaze wandering appreciatively over you in your bikini. The way the sunlight danced on your skin made her heart race just a little faster, and she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of how you balanced playfulness and warmth as effortlessly as you balanced Nicky in your arms.

“You look like a total snack, by the way,” Natasha teased, her voice laced with affection as she tried to divert her attention back to Stella, who was now pretending to swim like a dolphin.

“Thank you, but I think Nicky’s the star of the show today,” You replied, shooting a playful smile back at Natasha as you approached the edge of the pool.

Natasha’s attention snapped back to Stella, and she chuckled at Stella’s enthusiastic splashes, soaking the nearby tiles. “Okay, Miss Shark, let’s get you back in the water,” Natasha said, returning her focus to the lessons. “But this time, we’ll try floating, deal?”

Stella nodded eagerly, her excitement palpable as she prepared to dive back into the pool. She loved playing in the water, and Natasha could see how much fun she was having, though it was quite a different story with Nicky.

Nicky stared at the pool, his little eyes narrowed suspiciously, and the expression on his face was absolutely priceless.

You held onto the railing of the pool with one hand and Nicky with the other as you descended the steps. Initially it was cold and the infant whimpered in surprise. Once he became accustomed to the temperature, however, he seemed content to splash the water and observe the ripples.

Natasha moved closer as she observed the two of you, and a sudden realization came over her. This was her family. There was a sense of belonging, something she had been searching for her entire life, and it all started with you.

When Natasha first met you, she never imagined this could be her life, a life of love and acceptance, a life where she was truly at peace. Natasha watched you in the pool with Nicky, the way you gently held him, guiding him through the water with patience and care. The sight tugged at her heartstrings, stirring something deep inside her she hadn’t known she needed for so long. She had fought in battles and faced impossible odds, but here, in this quiet corner of Versailles, surrounded by her little family, was where she felt her strongest.

Her thoughts drifted back to the day she first met you. Never in her wildest dreams could she have predicted this—a home, a family, a love so profound it healed old wounds she thought would never close. She had been a soldier, an Avenger, but with you, she was just Natasha. The walls she built so high had crumbled over time, brick by brick, until you had her heart completely. She doesn't know how she could ever show you how much she loves you. Stella’s joyful shriek snapped Natasha out of her reverie as the toddler splashed water at her, giggling uncontrollably. Natasha blinked, grinning at her daughter's antics. "Alright, alright. You win this round."

Stella giggled again and attempted to float, proudly puffing out her chest as she lay back, mimicking what Natasha had shown her earlier. Her little limbs flailed more than necessary, but she was trying, and that effort was all Natasha needed to see.

You made your way closer to them, Nicky now calmer in your arms, his tiny hands occasionally splashing as if testing the waters. The way he leaned into you for comfort made Natasha’s heart swell even more. She wrapped an arm around your waist as you joined her near the shallow end, her fingers trailing up and down your side.

"Did I tell you that you look sexy in a bikini already?" She asked.

"Mmhm, but I don't mind hearing it again," You smiled. "You don't look so bad yourself, Romanoff," You grinned, running a finger along the edge of her black bikini. You gave her a gentle kiss one that caused Stella to wrinkle her nose as she clung to Natasha.

"Yuck!" She cried, prompting the two of you to laugh.

"Sorry, kid. You're stuck with us," Natasha said, leaning forward and blowing a raspberry on her cheek, eliciting a squeal of delight from the toddler. The past few months had been nothing short of a dream. Every morning in Versailles had felt like a small slice of peace, a stolen moment between the chaos that followed like a shadow. The quiet days had given Natasha and you something you both craved—time. Time to simply be. No missions, no war rooms, no urgent calls for help. Just the two of you, your children, and a sense of stillness that neither of you had ever really known.

Natasha couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to breathe this easily, to savor these fleeting moments. The way your laughter would carry through the house, or how Stella’s giggles echoed in the garden, and Nicky’s soft coos in your arms as you both watched the world go by. Natasha found herself rediscovering you all over again—the little things that had drawn her in from the start but felt even more profound now. The way you could make her smile with just a look. How effortlessly you seemed to hold everything together, even when life on the run could easily fray at the edges.

Every stolen kiss, every shared glance, every touch had rekindled something inside her. Falling in love with you had been the easiest thing Natasha had ever done, but staying in love—especially through all the chaos, the goodbyes, the constant fear of what might come next—was a different story. She could admit now that every time she'd left, there had been a twinge of resentment from you, and she couldn't blame you for it. You'd never said it outright, but she saw it in your eyes, heard it in your voice when she promised, once again, that this time it wouldn’t be for long. She knew what it cost you to be with her, to follow her across continents, to live a life where permanence felt like a distant dream.

But these past three months? They had been different. Natasha had stayed. And with every day, that lingering tension—the one that came from being pulled apart and back together so many times—had started to dissolve. Slowly but surely, you were both healing. You were rebuilding something that the chaos of her life had threatened to break.

Natasha had learned to savor the little things again. The mornings where the two of you would sneak out to the pool before the kids woke up, enjoying a cup of coffee while the world was still quiet. The evenings spent in each other's arms, no words necessary, just the comfort of being near you. The way you would look at her like you saw past the mask of the Black Widow and saw Natasha—the woman, the wife, the mother.

And Natasha, in turn, found herself falling in love with you all over again. It wasn’t a rush or a whirlwind this time, but something deeper, more settled. Like the roots of something strong and enduring, quietly taking hold. You had always been her safe harbor, but now, in these quiet days, you had become her home in a way she hadn't fully realized before.

Of course, she knew the peace wouldn’t last forever. You would have to move again soon. Another city, another name, another chance to stay off the radar. The danger was always lurking, an ever-present threat that lived at the edges of these moments. But Natasha had learned to live with it, to compartmentalize it. Right now, as she stood in the pool with you and the kids, none of that mattered. The world outside could wait. For now, this was enough.

**************

You stepped out of the pool, water dripping from your skin as you made your way to grab more towels. The warm sun kissed your damp shoulders, but a slight chill ran down your spine as you stepped into the house. You heard a faint buzzing coming from the counter, the place where you'd kept your access to the outside world. It’s an old phone, a number only a select few even have—mostly remnants of a lifelong buried.

The screen flashed with an unknown number, but you knew better. Instinct told you who it is before you even answered.

Your stomach tightened as you picked it up, glancing out of the window at Natasha still in the pool with the kids, her attention on Stella as she splashed excitedly. You raised the phone to your ear, keeping your voice low.

“Hello?”

“Been a hard person to reach,” The voice on the other end said, his tone smug and all too familiar. General Ross. His voice alone was enough to make your pulse spike. It drags you back to a time when every phone call from SHIELD was an emergency, a matter of life or death.

You take a slow breath, forcing yourself to stay calm. “I didn’t know I was taking calls,” You replied coolly, your eyes scanned the surroundings automatically, your mind already shifting into alert mode.

“Guess you’re not retired after all,” Ross continued, his voice sharp, cutting. “I’ve been looking for you and Romanoff. It’s been quite the chase.”

Your grip tightened on the phone, your knuckles turning white. "I don't understand why you think I'd know where she is. Your guess is as good as mine."

"Come on, Agent. We both know that's not true," Ross replied, his voice full of malice. "She's wanted for the crime of treason. What better person for her to be with than the woman she loves? Wife, right? I know people too."

Your blood runs cold at his words, and you're thankful you're alone. "What do you want, Ross?"

"I'll give you a week," he replies. "Tell your wife to come back with the Rogues or we'll be paying you a visit."

"Is this how you usually get your way? Intimidation?" You asked.

"No, just the most effective," Ross replied.

"Well, you're wasting your time," You leaned against the counter. "What is it with your obsession with Natasha anyway? I'm curious. Did she reject you? Hurt your cat? Cut you off in traffic?"

Ross chuckled darkly, the sound low and menacing. "This isn’t about personal feelings, Agent. Romanoff is a traitor, and traitors need to face justice. It’s as simple as that."

You grit your teeth, gripping the edge of the counter as you fought to keep your voice steady. "You and I both know it's more than that. You’ve been chasing her for some time now. You’re obsessed."

"Obsession," he drawled, "is such an ugly word. Let’s call it dedication. I have a job to do, and I won’t stop until I see it through."

The weight of his words settled heavily on you, an oppressive reminder of the constant threat that loomed over you and Natasha, no matter where you tried to run or how well you hid. The illusion of safety, the peace you’d found together over the last few months, felt like it was slipping away.

"You’ve been out of the game for a while," Ross continued, his tone almost mocking. "Maybe you’ve forgotten how this works. You can’t protect her forever. Eventually, she’ll slip, and when she does, I’ll be right there. But if you’re smart, you’ll bring her in before things get messy—for all of you."

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the fear that clawed at the edges of your mind, threatening to overwhelm you. "Is that a threat, General?"

"Oh no," he replied. "Just a promise."

The line went dead, leaving you alone with the silence and the sound of your own heartbeat echoing in your ears. You leaned heavily against the counter, fighting the urge to throw the phone across the room. The familiar pitter-patter of footsteps caused you to change your tune immediately. You wiped at your face and rushed over to the sink, grabbing a glass and beginning to fill it with water.

"Hey," Natasha said as she entered the kitchen with Nicky and Stella. She paused, tilting her head, noticing the shift in your demeanor. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," You replied, avoiding her gaze as you sipped from the glass of water. "Are we all done in the pool?"

"Yeah, we're done for today," Natasha answered, her eyes narrowing. "Something happened."

You sighed and placed the glass on the counter, unable to lie to her. "Later. Please?"

Natasha didn't argue, but you could feel her gaze boring into the back of your head, her concern palpable.

The rest of the afternoon passed without incident, but you were hyper-aware of every sound, every shadow, the tension in your shoulders refusing to abate. You couldn't relax, not when the threat of Ross and his army was hanging over you like a sword.

The evening sun was painting the sky in shades of pink and red when the four of you sat down to dinner, the kids happily munching away on their chicken nuggets while you babysat the same cup of wine. Natasha didn't press for information. She simply enjoyed her time with the kids. Its when she put them down for bed that she begun to ask questions. You stood at the bathroom counter, preparing for your nightly routine, when she stood beside you. She watched your reflection in the mirror.

"So, are you gonna tell me what's going on or do I have to guess?" She asked, her voice gentle, but the concern was evident.

"It was Ross," You admitted, not meeting her eyes. "He called me earlier. Somehow he got ahold of my old work phone. I know it's dumb of me to still have it but..."

Her body tensed at the name, her expression hardening. "What did he want?"

"To let us know that he knows we're together," You replied, finally meeting her gaze. "That he's coming after you, and me. That we have a week to either turn ourselves in or face the consequences."

"How the hell did he find you?" Natasha asked, her voice laced with anger.

"I'm not sure, but he seems serious," You argue. "Maybe you should call and check on Steve and Wanda. See where they are?"

"Wanda can handle herself, and she's with Vision. I'm not worried about her," Natasha assured, running a hand through her hair. "Ross is just bluffing."

"If you're sure," You nodded. "I'm not afraid of him. Not in the slightest. I just think maybe we should relocate."

"But you love it here," Natasha said.

"Not more than I love you," You countered. "And we can't stay, we've been here too long."

Natasha's shoulders sagged slightly, but she nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry this is happening," She frowned.

"Don't keep apologizing," You shake your head. "It's not your fault. We'll be okay."

"Yeah, but I'm the reason you're on the run with me. This isn't the life I wanted for you."

"We have a family, Nat. We have two beautiful kids. If we have to run, I'll follow. Besides, it's not forever." You tapped at her hands, grasping them in your own. "The kids are fine. I'm fine."

"Maybe one day, I can get you to a beach. A real one," Natasha smirked.

"Sounds nice," You smiled. "But wherever we go, I'll be there. You know that, right?"

"I know."

Natasha kissed you softly, her hands cupping your face. You melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her close. The tension in your shoulders eases the fear and worry that had gripped you since Ross's call beginning to dissipate.

"Someone's birthday is coming," Natasha said.

"Stella will be three," You smiled against her shoulder. "Nicky's birthday was beautiful. I don't know what we're going to do for her."

"I've got a few ideas," She grinned. "She wants to visit an aquarium."

"Is that wise? All things considered?"

"We're careful," Natasha smiled, kissing you once more.

"You are. Me, I'm an anxious mess," You joked, the anxiety slowly returning.

"You're the most level-headed person I know," She chuckled, her hands rubbing at your back.

"That's sweet of you to say, but it's not true," You argued. "Our baby is going to be three. Where has the time gone?"

"It's flown," Natasha smiled, "but I'm glad we're here. I can't imagine doing this with anyone else."

"Same," You hummed, holding her tighter. "You know, we're pretty good at this. Being parents. Well, from an outsider's perspective, we might look insane, dangerous, crazy. The list goes on."

"You're definitely insane, but so am I. It works," Natasha laughed. "It's always worked with you."

"Yeah, it has," You agreed. Your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of her neck.

"You never told me if you liked my hair or not," Natasha said. You grip her head gently, pulling back at her, inspecting the box-dye blonde.

"You look like a baddie, babe," You grinned.

"A baddie?"

"A badass," You corrected. "You told me I looked like a snack earlier. It's only right if I return the favor."

"You know," Natasha smirked, "if we had sex now, we'd be doing it like a married couple."

"Well," You shrugged. "We are a married couple."

Natasha smiled and leaned forward, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. The anxiety and fear of Ross and his threats fade into the background, replaced by the familiar feeling of desire, warmth, and love.

***************

A week later you were at the aquarium. The faint scent of saltwater and the rhythmic hum of the filtration tanks created a calming atmosphere, one that made it easy to forget—at least for a moment—the looming threat that had shadowed you for the past week.

Stella’s eyes were wide with wonder as she held Natasha’s hand, her tiny legs struggling to keep pace with the excitement rushing through her. She had been talking about sharks non-stop since you’d left the house, her fascination sparked again by some ocean documentary she had watched with Natasha weeks ago.

“Do you think we’ll see a real shark today, Mama?” Stella asked, her voice filled with awe as she looked up at Natasha, her little hand gripping tightly onto hers.

Natasha, disguised with a black wig that fell just past her shoulders and brown contact lenses that made her nearly unrecognizable, smiled down at her daughter. “I think we will, Solnyshko. You might even see a whole family of sharks.”

Stella’s eyes lit up at the possibility, and she beamed. “I wanna see the baby ones!”

Behind them, you pushed Nicky’s stroller, watching the two of them interact. It was moments like this that made everything feel normal. It was easy to pretend that your little family was just like any other. The tension from a week ago seemed far away, and today was about Stella—her third birthday, a day of joy and exploration.

“She’s been talking about sharks all morning,” You said with a smile, catching up to Natasha and Stella as you steered the stroller next to them.

Natasha glanced back at you, her eyes crinkling with affection, even though she kept her gaze on Stella to avoid drawing too much attention to herself. “I’m pretty sure she’s going to try to take one home with her,” she teased.

Stella, overhearing, immediately latched onto the idea. “Can we, Mama? Can we take a baby shark home?”

You and Natasha both laughed, and you shook your head playfully. “I don’t think the sharks would be very happy living in our pool, sweetie.”

Stella pouted for a second but then seemed to forget all about it as soon as you reached the first large tank, her eyes widening with amazement at the sight of colorful fish swimming just inches away on the other side of the glass. She pressed her hands to the cool surface, her breath fogging up the glass as she stared in awe.

Nicky, sitting in the stroller, squirmed and giggled, his tiny hand reaching out toward the bright lights of the tank. You leaned down and whispered to him, brushing his soft hair back. “Look, buddy. Fish. Do you see them?”

He babbled in response, his little fingers curling around the edge of the stroller as he tried to take everything in. "Fish." He called out.

Natasha knelt beside Stella, pointing out the different species in the tank. “See that one? That’s a clownfish. And there, that’s a tang, just like Dory.”

Stella gasped, her face lighting up. “Like the movie! Do you think they’re friends?”

“I bet they are,” Natasha replied, her voice soft and warm. For a moment, her usual guarded demeanor slipped, replaced by pure affection for her daughter.

As you moved on to the next exhibit, a massive tank that stretched from floor to ceiling, filled with rays and small sharks gliding effortlessly through the water, Stella gasped again, this time louder. “Mama, look! Sharks!”

Natasha’s face softened at the sound of Stella’s pure excitement. "Yes, there they are. Look how graceful they are."

"They look sleepy," Stella whispered in awe, her nose pressed against the glass as she watched a sand tiger shark slowly swim by.

You couldn’t help but admire the sight in front of you—Natasha, disguised but still every bit the mother she had become, and Stella, full of curiosity and joy. The sight made your heart swell with emotion. It felt like a lifetime ago that you had thought about having a family, let alone having one with Natasha. Now, as you watched the two of them, the love and happiness you felt was almost overwhelming.

"Hey, ma'am mind if I take your picture?" One of the workers with a camera asked. You glanced at Natasha, already knowing the answer, but instead of saying no, she reached out to give him her phone instead. She whispered something in his ear that you couldn't hear and pulled out a bill from her pocket.

"Of course," You smiled, leaning down to pick up Stella. You pressed your cheek against hers while Natasha scooped Nicky out of the stroller. Your smiles were wide and genuine.

"Thank you," Natasha said. "You guys have a great day!"

"You too," The man smiled, waving at Nicky, who waved back.

You put Stella down, watching her run off to the next tank. It took an entire hour to make it around the entire aquarium. You'd reached the gift shop and allowed for Stella to pick out a gift.

"That one," She demanded as she stood on the tip of her toes to reach the shark tooth necklace dangling from a display.

"Let me get that," Natasha said.

"Mom, look," Stella exclaimed, pointing at the shark tooth necklace.

"I see. Are you sure that's the one you want?"

"Yep, I am." Stella nodded excitedly.

"Okay," Natasha chuckled. Natasha purchased the necklace, carefully taking it out of the box and clasping it around Stella's neck.

"I'm gonna keep it forever and ever," Stella grinned widely. Another picture was taken on Natasha's phone. A beautiful moment to capture.

"Forever and ever," Natasha repeated.

After the visit, you and Natasha treated Stella and Nicky to ice cream.

"This has been the best birthday," Stella hummed as she licked at her ice cream. "Can we come back, please?"

"Maybe," Natasha smiled. "We'll have to see."

"Can I see the pictures?" Stella asked, looking at Natasha's phone.

"Sure," You replied. You flipped through the photos, stopping at one of you, Natasha, and the kids, the four of you smiling widely at the camera.

Stella pointed at the picture. "Is that us?"

"It is," Natasha answered.

"I love it," Stella declared, her eyes crinkling the same way Natasha's did when she smiled. "I want to look at it every day."

You glanced up at Natasha, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Me too," Natasha agreed.

Lots of foreshadowing here.

next part

[the-kr8tor]

ANOTHER TWINS REC

the twins put on a play for their parents! We know they go to gymnastics lessons, so just imagine their tiny little toddler feet clapping across the stage whilst they're wearing tiny pink Swan Lake tutus 🥺

Katy I think I have baby fever-

Help the baby fever is back for me too 😂 i hope you like it, lil sis! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, dad! Hobie, mum! Reader, billie and ramona au, twin au, parent au, fluff!

Navigation

You come home to a dim living room and to a makeshift stage and closed theatre curtains in place of your sofa. All the furniture are jumbled around to make space for the stage. Tugging off your shoes, and leaving your bag on the table, you eye the crafty stage. It's made out of the folding plastic table you and Hobie use during parties. Of course it's in its folded state but with pink and purple garlands taped on the sides. You remember those garlands came from your daughters’ birthday two years ago when they wanted a princess themed birthday party. It was the one time Hobie loved royalty while the girls twirl around in their handmade sparkly gowns and big shiny tiaras.

The blackout curtains are propped up by a drying rack you use to dry clothes in during the summer and to save from using the tumble dryer. And it's all clipped by the same clips you and Hobie use to keep clothes in. There's a paper garland draped over the curtains, all cut out in the shape of stars and swans�� most definitely achieved with the help of their dad. The girls' bedroom string lights are on the floor, all arranged like in movie theatres with their little lights on the aisle to prevent you from falling down in the dark. Your flowery scented candles are all over the room, their flickering candle lights adding to the cozy atmosphere.

With a chuckle, you feel arms wrapped around you as hushed voices echo from behind the ‘stage.’ You're sure that you heard a muffled “mum’s ‘ere.”

“You've got your ticket, lovie?” Hobie nuzzles the side of your neck, scruff tickling your jaw.

Leaning against him, you sigh and gaze at him affectionately. “Darn, I forgot my ticket at home.” You play along, hands grasping the back of his warm hands.

“Good thing I've got an extra then.” He shows you a piece of paper that's coloured in with a sky blue crayon and the big bold letters that's written in Billie and Mona's hand that says ‘Brown production presents: Swan lake!’

You aww’d and coo at the ticket with your name on it. Which is just ‘mummy’ with a little heart beside it. “Did they do all of this?” Whispering to Hobie, you cup his cheek as he leans against your touch.

“I helped with the heavy liftin’ and cuttin’. It was all their idea though.”

“Why? Were they bored or something?” You chuckle, thumb running along his cheek.

His eyes flutter close for a second before gazing at you again. “Nah, they jus’ wanted to surprise their mum is all. Said you needed to see their dance before their actual recital.”

You thump your head on his shoulder, can't control your cuteness aggression anymore when you picture their little five year old selves asking their dad to help them build a stage for their mum.

“They're so sweet.” Your eyes start to water and Hobie has to hold your arms to steady you.

“Of course they are, love. They got it from you.” He says with fondness as he kisses the corner of your lips and you can't help but have wobbly legs from his words. “C’mon, our ballerinas are waitin’ for us.” Leading you towards the sofa, he weaves through the small chairs with the girls' stuffed toys sitting on it. Your heart swells at the sight of the homemade stuffed toys. Their favourites, a fluffy snowman with a top hat, and a pink piglet with a plastic tiara are of course sitting up front.

You sit down next to Hobie, ticket in hand while he tugs you closer to him with a hand around your waist. “Please tell me that they're in their little tutus.” Whispering to him, your hand never left his own.

“With glitter and all, lovie.” Hobie smiles and reveals the family camcorder, showing that it's already recording.

The sound of the music player starts, and the classical music echoes through the living room. The curtains part with a quick pull from a hidden rope beside Hobie. Your face is starting to hurt with all the smiling. He stomps on a button under him, and the garden lights or ‘spotlights’ turn on and shows your girls in their full swan lake getup as they pose and wait for their cue.

Their tutus are identical, both in light blue with pink glitter accents that whenever the light hits it, it turns pinkish. The tops are covered in feathers and more sparkles that adorn the cape-like top. Billie's hair is in a bun, the same with Ramona's. The only difference being that Mona's hair is adorned with butterflies with its wings fluttering with every move. While Billie has a tiny crown perched around the bun. Hobie was right about the glitters, from top to their ballet shoes, they're covered in the sparkles.

You clap enthusiastically together with Hobie. He hoots and whistles out while he records, and the girls look like they're trying not to grin on the stage as they keep their composure.

The music ramps up, and it's their cue to dance and twirl around. Their practiced steps and movement of their arms makes your heart leap with pride and happiness. That's your girls, and all the tiredness and frowns from all the practicing was all worth it when they love each minute of their ballet class. The long awaited recital is the fruit of their labour, and you're absolutely proud of them for finishing the whole summer course.

They leap into the air and strike a final pose just as when the music crescendos and ends. You hop off your seat and clap your heart out while Hobie does the same, giving your girls the standing ovation they both deserve.

“Bravo!” You yell with a grin, clapping louder and louder as they bow on stage. Billie sends a flying kiss to the crowd, while Mona gives a little twirl and a curtsy. “Encore! Encore!”

Hobie hands you a rose from the shared garden, and the two of you toss it towards them.

“Did you see the jump, mum?!” Billie barrels towards you, hugging your legs and infecting you with glitter on your slacks.

“I did! It was amazing!” You can't help but bend your knees and lift her up in your arms. She giggles and hugs you happily.

“You're both brilliant!” Hobie loudly says, excitement and pride rolling off of him like the proud dad that he is.

“We've been practicin’ a lot!” Mona follows closely behind, and Hobie immediately carries her in his arm while still recording. It earns a happy squeak from Mona. “Did you two like it?”

“Like it?” You move closer to them, hugging them both while Billie wraps herself around you like a koala bear. “I loved it!” Their eyes shine at your comment.

Mona wraps her arm around your own while still hugging her dad, and Billie nuzzles her face against Hobie's bicep while still clinging to you.

Hobie brings the camera around and films his little family together. “How ‘bout ice cream for dinner?” A round of excited squeals bounces off the walls of the Brown residence.

[paci-papa]

Papa grinned wide as he sat on the couch watching your little performance.

"Papa, look! Papa, watch! Papa, Papa!"

You had pleaded like a toddler as you walked up to him dressed in your pastel pink leotard and cute little tutu that does nothing to hide the bulge of your impressively thick diaper.

When Papa finally acquiesced, you set down your white and pink children's boom box and pressed play. The soft tinkling sound of a music box started to sound from the speakers.

After years of professional ballet lessons, you used to fancy yourself a prima ballerina, always winning the best roles when you performed in the local theater.

Known as a bit of a diva with an ego that you felt you deserved due to your skill, you had gained quite a few enemies in the dance community over that time.

However, here, in Papa's house, you knew the standard for what was 'good,' differed greatly.

As the music played, you assumed fifth position, toes spread wide arms held over your head in a circle. You smiled behind the shield of your paci as you rose to en pointe, stumbling out of the position briefly, before attempting a pirourette in time to the music, purposefully falling out of the spin like the uncoordinated toddler Papa expected you to be.

You giggled from the floor on your padded bottom before standing and continuing your show, toddling from position to position like an uncoordinated toddler.

You ended with a grand finale of spinning to show Papa your diapered derriere, then bent over, smiling at Papa from between your legs while showing off your soggy backside.

Only then did you notice the camcorder in Papa's hand. He had been recording your performance like a proud father.

"Papa, no!"

You croaked out as your song came to an end.

"Don't worry, my little ballerina! It was such a lovely show! I know so many people who are going to want to see this! With this, I'm sure you'll get a spot in your theater's next ballet!"

Your heart sank as your face suddenly felt as pink as your tutu. You suddenly realized that your days as prima ballerina were numbered.

[chobani-flip]

meeting friends and family @bucktommypositivityweek

a bit of bucktommy fluff that unfolded as i wrote it

--

putting the car in park, buck checked his watch. shit, he was late. he was so late. he eyed the bags on the seat next to him and wondered if he should have bought the other two types of muffin as well. but he was so late, and today of all days, that he seriously doubted if tommy's love of cake might work in bribing his forgiveness.

but it hadn't been his fault! he couldn't just stand by when kathy went into labor right there next to the chicken nuggets! or it might have been kate, buck wasn't sure he heard her equally pregnant friend (mallory?) right the first time she'd moaned their names at him before thrusting two shopping carts containing two toddlers into buck's free hand once he'd introduced himself as a firefighter and dialed 911. then she proceeded to lean against the walgreens freezer and talk both herself and her friend through lamaze breathing, while buck clutched his phone with his shoulder and gave directions to sue blevins and at the same time tried to keep the toddler in the green bear tshirt from biting the toddler in pink, taking turns smiling encouragingly into their crying faces and the equally distressed but less snotty face of the walgreens manager.

and once he'd calmed the kids down a bit and nowak and wyatt from the 127 arrived, he couldn't just leave them to go to the hospital on their own. luckily, it didn't take very long for melanie's (?) partner to arrive, but still.

so now buck was late, by about two hours, on the evening that he and tommy had offered to babysit jee for the first time together.

remembering his own complete exhaustion after he'd spent an afternoon running around his niece that first time maddie had him watch her, buck was sure he should have bought those extra muffins.

buck didn't really know what he expected to find when he opened the door to his loft, but it definitely wasn't his niece sitting in her high chair at the kitchen island, quietly nibbling a carrot stick and staring at his boyfriend as though he was a new paw patrol character.

at a second glance, buck closed the door behind him and felt a bit like doing the same.

because tommy was holding a large piece of cucumber and two leaves of ice berg lettuce on the other side of the kitchen island and...

"...and like we said, because newton's third law of motion says that any action has an equal and opposite reaction, like when-"

"when i jump on the trampoline!" jee pulled the carrot out of her mouth to yell in excitement as tommy grinned at her in approval. buck felt a little faint.

"exactly, princess! and when the airfoil here," tommy shook the lettuce, "splits the air, the air pressure on top is smaller than on the bottom, that makes the air move faster downward and that generates lift!"

"lift!" jee yun cheered and danced in her chair, and buck had no idea whether she actually understood the lesson in beginner aviation just now, or if she just liked how tommy nodded approvingly at her as he handed her a wedge of cucumber. buck watched in disbelief as she rammed it into her mouth like a little chipmunk and grinned wide and green at his boyfriend, who couldn't possibly appreciate it for the miracle it was.

buck had been forced to pinky promise her never to include cucumbers in any of her snacks, "not even hided in yummy dip!", because they were "wet and ew".

although buck had to admit, he too would do (and had done) a lot of crazy things in order to get tommy to look and smile at him, so he couldn't blame jee yun too much for her change of heart.

he must have make some sort of a sound, because in the next instant jee was wriggling on her chair so much it was a wonder it didn't topple with her in it, and tommy was throwing his vegetable airplane model back into the salad bowl as though he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"uncle buck! uncle buck!" jee yun yelled, interrupting his stunned staring. "this is uncle tommy!" she added when he came up to her and at her request, lifted her into his arms.

"yeah?" was the only thing buck could think to say, as he pressed a scratchy kiss against her cheek, and turned to stare some more at his gorgeous boyfriend the tips of whose ears were turning a lovely shade of pink.

"he's a pilot!" jee yun continued to cheerfully shout in his ear.

"no way!" buck gasped.

"way way!" she yelled, and then went on to explain very seriously that she shouldn't jump on the bed because she didn't have a "jet-gin" or an airfoil and so she wouldn't fly because she couldn't "genate lift". buck nodded, also very seriously, and agreed that uncle tommy was "so cool!"

"the coolest," he said as he watched tommy start to put away the groceries.

buck had a feeling that the title of the favorite uncle that he had won from albert by knowing which brand of dino chicken nuggets to buy had just been stolen but he couldn't say he minded very much.

[toomuchracket]

swimming lessons (dad!ross x reader smut)

part of summer75 and a day late because i'm a busy girl. but this is fun! breeding kink haters dni. the rest of you, enjoy <3

“not to be weird or anything, babe, but your husband is looking really, really sexy to me right now.”

you snort, turning to look at your friend on the sunlounger next to you. “yours is literally right behind you right now.”

“what? she's right,” matty pipes up, kissing his wife's head. he lifts up his sunglasses, looking back towards the pool with a low whistle. “he's fit.”

to be fair, neither of them are wrong - ross does look incredible, shirtless in the pool, beads of water dripping down his body. you follow one as it travels down his bicep, flexed from holding baby alex (who, at three, isn't really a baby anymore, but you’re convinced that's what he'll be known as forever, bless him), biting your lip when the droplet falls from ross's wrist onto his stomach and disappears when it reaches his shorts. your shorts, too, are beginning to collect wetness, the sight of your husband looking delectable and dilfy turning you on to an insane level; when he strokes your sleepy nephew's curls and beams at your daughter demonstrating a front crawl, you genuinely have to squeeze your legs together.

and when he walks up the steps from the pool towards you, toddler still in his arms… it takes everything in you to hold back a moan. somehow, you manage it, and even manage a smile at the way alex beams and makes grabby arms for your friend - she takes him into her own, cooing “you did so well, munchkin! was it fun, swimming with uncle ross? it was? oh, good!” at her baby and mouthing “thank you” at ross. he winks, ruffling alex's hair another time and doing the same to his dad's with a laugh, before wandering over to you and leaning down for a kiss. “alright, love?”

“mmm, yeah,” you steal another peck, savouring the familiar feel of his lips on yours before lying back (as seductively as you can manage). “sit with me for a bit?”

“absol-”

“dad, dad!” eilidh yells. you peer over to see your daughter giving lyla a piggyback in the water, keir faffing about with one of his cousin's armbands. “we need your help to fix this, please!”

“coming, bean,” ross calls out. he turns back to you with a sigh, leaning down for another kiss that doesn't last anywhere near as long as you'd like. “sorry, babe. back soon, though, yeah?”

you nod, smiling gently. “yeah.”

as your husband makes his way over to save the day, matty reaches out to pat you on the shoulder sympathetically. “cockblocked by your own kid. been there, mate.”

“matthew, you can't say that in front of our son!” his wife hisses, holding an almost-sleeping alex even closer to her as if she can wipe away the memory of the bad word through touch; she turns to you, too, small smile on her pretty face. “sorry, though, babe. i get it, i do.”

“it's that obvious i'm feeling,” you wave your hands as you search for the right word. “... amorous? christ.”

“well… yeah, but-”

“but it's valid,” matty chips in. “very.”

“yeah, it's valid,” your friend nods. “how long has it been?”

“must be, i don't know,” you trill your lips, wracking your brain to recall the date of you and ross's latest sexcapades and coming up short. “i can't even remember, actually,” you laugh in disbelief, shaking your head. “that's awful.”

matty scoffs. “for the two of you? it’s worrying,” he sighs, wistful. “you used to be ridiculous, always sneaking off to sh- cuddle, in the way grown-ups do. was mental.”

his wife leans round to look at him, brow furrowed. “worse than us?”

“darling, nobody's as bad as us,” he kisses her nose, then turns to you. “but yeah. i think you and ross should go on a date.”

images flood your mind, images of ross in a nice shirt and you in a dress, images of gorgeous plates of pasta and glasses of wine, images of the two of you dancing and kissing, images of him above you, chain dangling and face contorted in pleasure as… 

yeah, a date sounds like a good idea. 

but the kids…

“oh, we can look after them for a night! the kids would love a sleepover, i reckon,” your friend nods eagerly when you share your thoughts. “could even take them tonight, if you fancied.”

your heart soars. “really?”

“course,” matty nods. “we still owe you for the night the little nugget my girl's holding was invented, anyway.”

you laugh, reaching over to stroke said nugget’s soft cheek; he smiles in his sleep when you do, and it makes your heart melt. “love you guys, i really do.”

“and we love you,” your friend squeezes your hand, beaming. “and we hope you have a good night.”

as it turns out, you do. everything seems to fall perfectly into place in regard to it, actually - by some miracle, the fancy restaurant down the road has a table for two available tonight; you win the fight with the humidity and leave the hotel with nice hair; the kids are borderline-offensively excited about the sleepover with the healys, hugging you and ross goodbye at the speed of light before bolting into the other suite to watch tangled. 

dinner is perfect, too, but not nearly as much as the man sitting across from you. ross looks gorgeous in a soft linen shirt, even more so than usual; he blushes slightly when you tell him as much, shaking his head and returning the compliment and making your cocktail-buzzed head spin. he keeps the sweet talking going the whole night, from the restaurant to the wine bar and back to the hotel, flirting with you like he did over a decade ago and subsequently getting you as insatiable for him as you were back then.

luckily for you, though, ross is equally as insatiable, as evidenced by the way he crashes (a cliché, but there's no other word for it) his lips onto yours the second the lift to your hotel room floor dings shut. you sigh into his mouth at the feeling, a sigh that quickly becomes a moan when his tongue finds its way between your lips and his hands find their way to your arse. ross giggles at the sound, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead on yours. “fuck, i missed you. missed this.”

“so did i,” you kiss him again, pulling away when the lift dings and wandering into the hallway. ross follows a few steps behind, and you know with every fibre of your being that he's staring at your hips in the satin dress; this is confirmed when you quickly spin to face him, those pretty eyes of his flicking up to yours as you hold out your hand. “coming?”

your husband doesn't answer. instead, he crosses the space between you in one stride, scooping you bridal-style into his arms so fast you can barely react and practically running down the hall to your room. as you fumble in your handbag for the keycard, his lips meet your neck, and you momentarily forget what it is you're doing - the feeling passes quickly, though, and within thirty seconds you're in the suite and being quite literally thrown onto the king-size bed.

ross climbs atop you, kissing you again, slowly, deeply, sexily, turning your brain to goo and your core slick; his hands gently cup your face, while yours fumble to find the buttons on his shirt and begin to undo them. he smiles into you, hands travelling to your shoulders to slip the straps of your dress down and free your tits. when he touches them, rolling your nipples between calloused fingers, you whine, and he laughs. “you like that, love?”

“you know i do,” smiling, you pull the hair tie from his bun, running your fingers through his hair and savouring the satisfied moan he lets out. “god, you're hot.”

“nah, you're the hot one,” ross runs his hands down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “i mean, look at this fucking dress on you.”

you preen, crossing your legs behind his back. “wanna fuck me in it?”

“obviously,” ross scoffs. “d'you want anything else first, though?”

“nah,” you pull him close to you, whispering directly in his ear. “we've got the whole night for you to do other things to me, baby.”

ross groans into your neck, hands frantically sliding under your dress to pull your underwear down; he winks as he pockets the garment, before unbuckling his belt. you sigh happily when he pulls his boxers down just enough to free his cock, and he smirks. “condom? or are you too desperate, love?”

“you're the one who got a boner from a snog,” you fire back, smirking to match ross; you lean up to kiss him, tugging him onto you by the chain around his neck. “and no condom. wanna feel it when you fill me up.”

“god,” ross's eyes darken, fluttering closed when he sinks into you with a groan. “like that, baby?”

“yeah,” you breathe, readjusting to the feeling of your husband inside you after all this time. “fuck, ross, m’so full.”

“well, you did eat all that pasta-”

“i swear to fucking god, ross, if you don't shut up i'll-”

he cuts you off with a sharp thrust and a saccharine smile. “you’ll what, love? go on, tell me.”

bastard. he knows fine well you can't, brain completely clearing as soon as he starts fucking you - you've been doing this for fifteen years, after all. right now, all you can do is allow yourself to get lost in the bliss of fucking your husband, inching ever closer to the inevitable rush of pleasure with every movement of ross's hips. when his hand joins the party, fingers as deliberate on your clit as they are on his bass strings, you whine, and he beams. “y'having fun?”

“mhmm,” you pout your lips for a kiss, and ross obliges immediately with some filthy sloppy thing that turns your brain inside out. all the while, neither his hand or hips let up, and you can feel the shockwaves beginning in your nervous system. “y'gonna make me cum.”

“s'my favourite thing,” ross smiles against your lips, moving to tenderly rest his forehead on yours. “well, you and the kids are my favourite thing, but… you know what i mean.”

you huff out a laugh. “maybe you'll get another one tonight.”

he rolls his eyes. “don't take the piss.”

“m'not!” you kiss the side of his head, stroking his hair. “i know you want one, ‘n’ so do i - please, ross?” you move your lips onto his neck, kissing the spot at his collarbone you know drives him insane. “let's make a baby.”

ross sighs. “well, you asked for it.”

before you can even respond, he's wrapping your legs even tighter around his waist, slamming into you with reckless abandon. the sound of your bodies meeting is nothing short of depraved, all skin slapping and wet cunt and little moans leaving your lips as your husband fucks you with complete and utter determination. those shockwaves from earlier are increasing tenfold with every thrust, rocking through you every time ross hits that sweet spot inside you; when he brings his lips to your ear, beard tickling the skin, they increase again, leading you right to the edge. “cum for me, love. need to fill you before i fill you up… oh, fuck, just like that, good girl.”

your orgasm is sudden, strong, violent - your limbs convulse, lips part, eyes roll back, and voice wails as you topple into ecstasy, ross following a beat behind. he holds himself against you as he cums with a groan, letting you feel every last drop coating your insides before face-planting into your tits with a weary sigh. breathless as you are too, you bring a shaky hand to your husband's hair, kissing his temple. “shit, i love you so much.”

“feeling's mutual,” ross responds, words muffled by your chest. he softly kisses your glowing skin, looking up at you with a smile - he looks utterly fucked, but he's so, so beautiful. “you reckon that worked, then?”

you shrug. “maybe. but we should try again, too, i think. just to be sure.”

ross laughs, snuggling back into you again. “well, give me five minutes first.”