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deans-baby-momma · 4 years

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Resolution

A/N: Here it is! The final installment to the Falling Saga. What did Dean want to discuss with Y/N? Why was Mary there? Hope you all enjoy and PLEASE let me know your thoughts.

Y/N opens the door wider and allows Dean to enter. She is surprised when Mary appears seemingly out of nowhere, with a smile on her face.

“Uh, hi Mary.”

“Mom is here to take Maddox. I have something to discuss with you and it needs to be uninterrupted.”

“O-okay. Well he is in the kitchen,” you turn toward Mary. “He’s been wanting to go to the park down the street so we were going to go after lunch.”

“I’ll take him,” Mary confirms and disappears, Maddox’s giggles heard soon after.

Y/N and Dean watch Mary put the little boy’s sneakers on and then the two of them head out the door, leaving the separated couple alone.

“Dean-” Y/N begins but Dean holds up a hand.

“Let me go first please?” He waits for her to concede before continuing. “I have lived this crazy life with you by my side and I have survived it without. I don’t want to just survive anymore, Y/N. I need you. I tried not to; tried not to love you but I was just lying to myself.

“Yes it still fucking hurts that you slept with Adam. I still have nightmares about it, dreaming of you and him together. I wake up sick to my stomach thinking of you being so intimate with him." Dean pauses to sigh. "But as much as it pains me to think about it, it happened. I know it happened and there is nothing I can do to change that. What I can do is try to forgive you; I'll never forget but I can accept it and let it go.

"Because, Y/N I love you so goddamn much. We have survived more than most.” Dean runs a hand over his hair and sighs. “We’ve come up on some bad times and it looks as though the world as we know it will soon be ending. I don’t want to die without knowing you and I are good. I want you back in my life. I want Mav to see her mother and father together, in love and united in this fight, this war, that’s coming.”

Y/N’s mouth has gone completely dry. Hearing the words she has craved for over two years is both refreshing and depressing.

To hear Dean say he still loves her, is still in love with her is exhilarating but Y/N cannot help but wonder what brought on this change of heart. Or is it because the end is imminent, whatever that means.

"Dean," she breathes out breathless. "What's happened? What do you mean, 'the world as we know is ending'?"

Dean walks to the couch and sits down, placing his elbows on his knees. Taking a deep breath he begins explaining that Chuck has been manipulating him and Sam and now that they've caught on and refuses to play the man's games, Chuck has decided to decimate this world.

Dean further explains that apparently Chuck, or God, has done this very thing before in other worlds. When his game pieces decide to have a mind of their own, he obliterates them and whatever worlds he has created for them.

"Supposedly Dean Winchester has died more times than we know. And this one- me- I’m on the chopping block now. I told him that we would never give him the ending he wants, no matter what he does. That of course didn't go over well and now our days are numbered."

"Dean, our days have always been numbered. It's a fact for hunters. We never know when we are going to meet our doom."

“But we’ve never went up against God before YN,” Dean sighs. “And we have royally pissed him off. Listen-” Dean pauses and he stands up and approaches her. “-I don’t want to be without you anymore. I don’t want to live out the rest of my days without you by my side. I love you Y/N. I love you so fucking much and to think of life without you is something I don’t want to do. Please baby. Please let’s be us again.”

He reaches out and cups his palm to her cheek. Y/N can’t help but to lean into the touch. After not feeling it for so long, it feels like heaven, feels like home. She closes her eyes and squeezes them shut. The tears make their way out and slide down her cheeks.

“Baby,” Dean whispers. “Please?”

Y/N keeps her eyes closed but nods. “Yea,” she rasps. “We can be together again.”

Unbeknownst to her by the time the last word leaves her mouth, Dean is close enough to claim it. She feels his chapped and dry lips on hers and she revels in it. Revels in the bliss of being able to kiss him again.

Dean swipes the tip of his tongue across her bottom lip and Y/N doesn’t even have to think twice before granting him access. Their tongues tangle as Dean wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her body to his.

When they finally have to part for air, Y/N opens her eyes to see Dean looking at her with all the love and affection she could ever wish for.

“Can I please make love to you?”

“God, yes!” she answers with a smile and a chuckle.

Dean picks her up by her thighs and guides her to wrap them around his body. He plies her neck with kisses before lightly sucking against her pulse point, all the while walking to her bedroom.

He gently lays her on the bed and places his hands on the mattress beside her head.

“I just want you to know,” he whispers. “There has been nobody else. The last person I slept with was you.”

Y/N feels more tears leak out at his confession before nodding. “And I, you.”

A smile creeps up on Dean’s face before he leans down to, once again, claim her mouth. His hands move to her shoulders before beginning their leisurely glide down her arms and to her hips, gripping tightly then relaxing his grasp.

Y/N can sense her panties getting damp as she feels his hands move to the waist of her cotton shorts. His fingers glaze against her skin as he curls them around the top of her clothing, making her whimper into his mouth.

“Shh,” Dean purrs as he pulls the fabric down over her hips. She raises them to assist him in disrobing her. Once her shorts are pulled from her feet, he drops them to the floor and just looks down at her, lovingly and adoringly. “Let me love you baby.”

Y/N is rooted to the bed, she can’t move, she can’t think, she can’t speak. This is something that she thought she would never experience again. She watched as Dean’s eyes travel down her body, lust-blown and hooded.

He places his hands on her knees and presses them apart, opening her up for him. Licking his lips, Dean bends and kisses against her pubic bone as he kneels on the carpet.

The first swipe of his tongue is feather-light and doesn’t even broach her folds. Y/N moans at the sensation. The second is incurred with a bit more pressure and opens her lips. She can feel her arousal dripping out of her and Dean must sense it too because he opens his mouth and covers her mound, slipping his tongue around her entrance and up to circle her clit.

Y/N throws her head back and moans, her body instinctively starting to squirm under his ministrations. Dean wraps his arms around her thighs and pulls her to him, with his palms flat against her abdomen, holding her still. He continues to tease and tantalize her bundle of nerves until she is begging.

Y/N begins chanting Dean’s name, along with please and fucks. She has no idea what she is begging for. For him to stop, for him to continue; she just doesn’t know. Her mind has melted into jello.

Dean sucks the swollen pearl into his lips at the same time his right index finger slides into her, causing Y/N to cry out in pleasure. He continues sucking on the nub as his finger slowly moves in and out of her to the second knuckle.

Y/N feels as if she is about to combust. The spring in her abdomen is slowly coiling and she knows this orgasm is going to be extraordinary. But she wants him inside her when that happens; she wants to feel him buried to the hilt when she cums.

“Dean,” she pants out. “Make love to me.”

Dean suckles her once more before letting go, his finger sliding out of her and he stands up. Quickly he begins undressing and Y/N sits up to remove her shirt and bra before laying back down to watch him reveal himself.

Y/N watches as Dean removes his flannel and then reaches behind himself to grab his t-shirt and pull it over his head. He hops from foot to foot as he toes off his boots and then begins unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. Her mouth salivates as she watches him push his pants and briefs down his thick thighs, his dick popping up and slapping at his stomach. She hasn’t seen it in so long, she is in awe of the sight of it.

She crab-crawls backward up the bed until her head is above the pillows. She lowers her body back to the mattress as she watches Dean climb on the bed and make his way to hover over her. He bends his elbows and kisses her, taking no time to encroach her mouth with his tongue.

Y/N wraps her arms around Dean’s neck and pulls him down to her. She can feel his dick twitching against her inner thigh, the stickiness of the precum painting her skin. Reaching between their bodies, Y/N wraps her hand around his length and pumps, eliciting a moan from the man above her.

Blindly, she lines him to her entrance and he quickly takes over, slowly and steadily pushing in. Once he is fully sheathed he stops and they part to gasp for air. Dean looks down at Y/N and their eyes lock. He holds eye contact with her as he begins to pull out and push back in.

Time seems to stand still but also fly by as the two lovers remain connected, her moans and cries and his grunts and groans fill the room.

Dean eventually flips them over, without retreating from her warmth. Y/N sits up and places her palms on his chest, gyrating on him. His hands on her hips helping her keep up the movements.

They resume eye contact and Y/N shivers at the look of love in his green orbs.

Dean slides his hands up her sides and pulls her down to him, their chest against one another as he begins pumping up into her in a frenzy. The mixture of emotion and the feel of him deep inside her causes that spring to coil tight before shattering, her screams howling out of her mouth.

She collapses against him, limp and satiated as Dean proceeds to fuck up into her until he groans out his release. Y/N’s pussy convulses and contracts as she feels him filling her. They lay there for a while longer, satisfied and content.

Dean’s softened member ultimately leaves her body with a squelching sound. He rolls over to his side, with her pressed up against him.

“Come home Y/N,” he pleads as he kisses her forehead.

“No,” Y/N mumbles. “I can’t.”

“What, why?” Dean cries out, pulling back and looking down at her. His heart is breaking again. He thought they were getting back together. They had just made love after almost 2 years. Didn’t that mean something to her?!

“I mean,” Y/N says before clearing her throat and sitting up. “I can’t live in the Bunker. I can’t walk through that place with the memories it holds. The thoughts of how I fucked everything up by being with Adam. I can’t Dean. I’m sorry.”

Dean pulls her back down to him and holds her tight.

“Okay. I’ll move in here,” he tells her. “I just want us to be together again. You, me, Mav and Max. And I don’t care who fathered him, he is mine. We will be one big happy family. Until the end.”

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44 @internationalmusicteacher @kricketc29 @natura1phenomenon @blacktithe7 @spnbaby-67 @travelingriversideblues-x @keymology @tftumblin @markofdean79 @thevelvetseries @deanwanddamons @winchester-fantasies @akshi8278 @michellethetvaddict @larajadeschmidt13 @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @hoboal87 @atc74 @maddiepants @delightfullykrispypeach

#Resolution #dean winchester #reader insert #dean x reader #final #The Falling Saga #making up #smut #love

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vampybb · 5 years

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Thigh Highs

70s!John x female reader

A/N: this shit is downright FILTHY and I can’t believe I actually wrote this but I thought it a good idea some people might like and it’s kinda hot so I’ll try and write it

Warnings: Smut, spanking, Oral (female receiving), slight daddy kink

••••••••••••

Your roommate and best friend, John, was supposed to be gone for at least a few hours, putting the finishing touches on songs for his band’s latest album. It was one of the last times he’d be out of the house for hours until they toured, meaning he’d be home all day and night for the next few weeks. You didn’t mind Johns company, you enjoyed it in fact, but he was quite a shy person and preferred to stay home when he could, which was almost all the time. It was fun to watch movies and cook dinner with him, and curl up on the couch and listen to vinyls. And it was nice when you’d sit in your room and listen to the boom of his bass through the flat, his slender fingers plucking every note. You thought he was quite interesting, and you may have had a more-than-slight crush on him, but it was nice to have alone time. You’d think about John Deacon all the time, but when he wasn’t home you often thought about him with your hands between your legs and you knew he couldn’t be home when it happened.

So that led to now, you stretched across your bed after turning the volume up on your record. Your skirt was hiked around your waist, and your black socks were pulled up to your thighs, hugging tight around the thickest part of your parted legs. Your black t shirt, that may have been John’s at one point, was tucked into said skirt. You back was propped up against the headboard and pillows, and your legs were spread out in front of you. You thought of your roommate’s muscular hands as you guided your own up your thighs, stopping before your thin panties. You slid one hand in between your legs, rubbing yourself over the fabric. You whined his name, closing your eyes. Your fingers began to work faster and your skirt rid up, leaving you on your bed with your legs wide open and your panties clearly soaked. You began to slow down and try to slip your fingers past the fabric, thinking of someone else’s hands, without realizing that someone else was behind the bedroom door.

John has walked into the house a minute earlier, setting his keys on the counter and kicking his shoes off, ready to spend time at home after months of being at the studio. The session had ended hours earlier than he expected, but he was relieved. He sighed and began his way through the house to tell you the exciting news about the album, but stopped when he heard music coming from your room. He figured you wouldn’t hear him knock over the music, so he let himself in, figuring you’d be at your desks or reading on your bed.

He was wrong, though, and his breath caught in his throat as a choked whisper when he saw you laid across the bed, in a skirt and thigh highs, with your legs wide open as you fucked your self and moaned his name.

His first instinct was to the close the door, and he almost did, but you had jumped up and covered yourself, turning your music off. There was a few seconds or silence and embarrassed eye contact until you finally decided to speak.

“Deacy, you weren’t supposed to be home.” Was the only thing you could say, calling your best friend his nickname after you had just moaned it to yourself.

“I-, the, uh, the session ended early. We, uh, we finished the, um, album.” He muttered, his mouth agape and his eyes glued to your skirt and legs.

You noticed and tried to get his attention. “Deacy?”

His eyes met yours again, but the shock in them had suddenly subsided.

“Were you saying my name?”

“What? I-“

“When you were fucking yourself, you were moaning my name.” He stated boldy, crossing his arms. He had slowly inched himself further into the room, so he was in front of you on the bed. You sat on your heels, looking up at him. You could see the outline of his dick through his pants, and you pursed your lips to fight your grin.

“You weren’t supposed to hear-“

“I wasn’t? That’s why you were so loud, love?”

His fingers grasped onto your chin as your eyes left his, lifting your face to look up at him.

You had dreams about this very moment, where Deacy would pound you into your mattress, so you happily complied with his new found dominance. You started to stand, kneeling, to close the door behind him but his hands caught your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your skirt.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart? You’ve been a naughty girl, and you’ll need to be punished.” He growled.

You started to sweat at his words, gripping his shoulders for balanced.

“On the bed, all fours. I’ll punish you, and if you do well, I’ll reward you for being a good girl.”

You immediately complied, your heat aching for his touch. You got on your hands and knees, sticking your ass in the air. You heard Deacy unbuckle his belt, and you excitedly bit your lip.

“Count to 5, love.” He leant down and whispered, before his belt came in contact with your ass with a sharp snap sound. You whimpered, tightening your thighs together, desperate for friction.

“One.”

He hit you again, and your elbows gave out, burying your face in your sheets.

“Two.”

Deacy hooked his finger through your panties and yanked them down, spanking you again. Tears started to well in your eyes at the stinging, but it felt so good that you didn’t want him to stop.

“Th-Three.”

“You’re doing lovely for daddy.” He reassured you, stroking your hair. Hearing John refer to himself as “daddy” sent shivers up your spine, and you anticipated the next snap of his belt.

“Four.”

You whined, biting your hand.

“Five.”

Deacy discarded his belt onto the floor, flipping you around.

“Such a good girl, don’t cry.” He said sweetly, wiping your tears. The sudden dominance had faded, and he was his sweet, loving self. He leaned down and softly kissed you, tasting you, but you deepened the kiss, yanking on his hair a little, which he seemed to like by the moans that he spilled into your mouth.

“Good girls get rewards, yeah?” He said breathlessly, kissing your neck, moving down to your chest. He moved so his face was in between your legs, his arms hooked around your thighs, pulling you closer. He slipped your underwear off your legs and onto the floor.

“Such a pretty pussy, all for me.” He muttered, spreading you apart with his fingers. You moaned at the feeling, and gripped onto his hair when he pressed a kiss to your clit. His tongue licked up and down your folds, paying special attention to your bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, Deacy, like that.” You whimpered, and he kept his tongue in just the right place. You chanted his name as he worked faster, and a string of curses left your mouth when your orgasm hit, your muscles spasming and your thighs tightening around Deacy’s head in between your legs.

When you came down from your high, he lifted his head back up to your face, his chin dripping with your arousal.

“Your turn, John.”

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theoperaghostsstudent · 5 years

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To The Stars Who Listened (Sanders Sides Fallen Star AU)

After drunkenly making a wish on a shooting star, Logan Sanders got more than he was expecting when the star fell from the sky and into his living room. Now in human form, the star by the name of Patton claims he is there to help grant Logan’s wish.

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Pairings: Logicality and Prinxiety

Chapter summary: Roman’s struggle with the accursed writer’s block is a difficult one, but maybe what he needs to make a break through in his writing is something new? Maybe to find some inspiration from an unlikely place?

Word Count: 3,475

Warnings: Mentions of drinking and of getting drunk, writer’s block, lack of self care-[hygiene/eating/drinking/etc.] (I think that’s it, but please let me know if there’s something I missed!)

————————————————————————————————

[Chapter 3]

Roman sat at his desk with his face buried in his hands. An entire day had gone by and inspiration had barely tapped him on the shoulder. He’s tried everything, but lo and behold the sun sets on yet another uninspired day. He cursed himself as his eyes threatened to close once again, but then again he hasn’t slept in a couple days. To think, just a couple days ago he had been nagging Logan to get some rest. Then again, based on the fact that Logan never comes up with stories (let alone get drunk on his own), Roman figured he definitely needed the rest more than him.

“And I thought that I was the master storyteller.” Roman huffed out before standing from his desk and stretching his arms out before stifling a yawn. His muscles felt stiff from spending all day at his desk and man did the small action feel like heaven. Another thing that would feel like an angel’s heavenly kiss right now would be the feeling of his head on his pillow while he knocks out on his bed, but sadly he had work to focus on. He let out a small sigh as he stared longingly at his bed before walking to the bathroom. Maybe splashing his face with cold water could wake him up a bit? Hopefully this time would be successful since he’s been splashing his face with water almost every hour with no luck.

Roman was quick to turn the faucet to its coldest setting before cupping his hands under the water with a sigh. He looked up from his hands and nearly jumped backward at his reflection. It was just so unlike him! His hair was messy and tangled (essentially an abomination), his eyes had dark bags beneath them (definitely not designer), his tan skin was certainly paler than usual (it wasn’t all that noticeable since his skin was still naturally dark but he could tell his gorgeous glow was gone), and he was still in his Mickey Mouse pajamas that he had put on over a week ago. His precious hygiene routine had clearly been thrown out the window along with his creative spark. If he didn’t have his inspiration and creativity, along with his practice for perfect hygiene and good looks, then who was he?

He let the water that was in his hands fall into the sink as he let out a frustrated groan before he shut the water off. No amount of rinsing his face was going to help him write a story, so he stomped back to his desk and sat back down. His tired mind kept wandering back to the story Logan had come up with. Maybe...Maybe a shooting star was just what he needed?

He got up again, stumbling a little this time from the lack of sleep, and made his way around his apartment making sure to turn off all the lights. He remembered how Logan would ramble on and on about light pollution or something like that when they were younger, so he smiled to himself after completing his task. Of course, now sleep was calling out her sweet song to him, and it made it slightly harder to navigate his messy home in the dark.

Roman opened the patio door and stepped out. Immediately he started searching the sky for any signs of a shooting star. With any luck he could at least wish away the pain in his royal ass that was his writer’s block. He’d do anything for inspiration at this point, even fight the accursed Dragon Witch from one of his previous books.

After searching and searching as best as he could with the naked eye, he let out a frustrated noise. This wasn’t going to work. Of course it wasn’t going to work! Standing out here and procrastinating wasn’t going to work!

Roman shudders at the thought and scrunches his nose. That sounded an awful lot like something Logan would say, but totally ten times harsher. At least he would give some helpful advice like telling him to go to sleep on time, to drink water, and remind him to eat. It was kind of strange that he hasn’t heard from him since his drunk phone call. Hopefully he was doing okay. Maybe he should call him later to check up on him?

Suddenly he felt his black cat, Sugar, purr as she rubbed her head against his leg. Was her bowl empty again? He should check it before getting back to writing. Even if he put off his own meals, he’d rather drop and suffer the pain of a million deaths than neglect his child.

With a sigh he bent down and pet the small cat before looking up at the sky one more time. He silently prayed that he could make his wish, but felt pretty hopeless. It would be just his luck if he never saw another shooting star in his lifetime.

“Let’s go inside, Sugar. Looks like the stars don’t want to listen to me complain tonight.” He said with a small sad smile, looking down at the cat who meowed in response. He gave a dry chuckle, and turned his gaze back to the sky. His eyes widened as he slapped his hands onto the railing of the small patio porch, startling his poor kitty. Were his eyes just playing tricks on him or had he seen what he thought he saw? Could the thing that had made its way from the right side of the sky to the left have been a shooting star? Only one way to find out.

“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight….I wish I could be inspired-maybe find my muse? Anything that could help me get my creativity going again.” Roman said after closing his eyes tight, feeling hope bubble up and flourish in his chest. There was a moment of silence. All Roman could hear was the sounds of the night. Well, at least the sounds of a Floridian night which consisted of crickets, frogs, and cicadas if it’s hot enough. He honestly wished that the frogs here sounded like coquis. He’d take them chanting their own names like a choir of Pokemon than sounding like a duck getting run over but hey, Florida, right?

Roman kept his eyes closed for a moment longer and took in a deep breath before opening them. Well, he might have to wait a hot moment for his wish to come through, but at least he got some fresh air, and the stars looked beautiful...tonight?

Now, if Roman was right, he could have sworn the shooting star he had wished on had made its way to the left of the night sky, so what exactly was this really bright one tripping on? Was it getting brighter? What was going-?

“I drunkenly made a wish on a shooting star last night and that very star crashed into me…”

Suddenly Logan’s words from their last phone call rang in his ears and made sense as the star appeared to be getting brighter, as if it was heading straight towards him. A sense of panic ran through his body as he backed up into the house, unsure of what he was doing exactly, but the star was getting brighter and brighter until it was too bright and Roman was wide eyed and frozen with shock.

The impact was harsh as Roman was thrown backward, but he instinctively wrapped his arms protectively around the ball of light that was growing heavy against him as they landed onto the ground. Roman groaned in pain, his eyes shut tightly from bracing the impact. He could see the bright light fade from behind his eyelids, which he kept shut until the light was gone entirely from fear of going blind. When that happened, he allowed his eyes to fly open and his breath caught in his throat (and it wasn’t just because he had gotten the air knocked out of him).

Now, Roman wasn’t one to normally believe in love at first sight. Actually, who are we kidding? Roman was a sucker for love at first sight. He wrote about it all the time and dreamt about it daily for Pete’s sake! However, what he was feeling now as he gazed into the gray eyes of the man above him that he was currently holding in his arms was definitely different from the feeling he got when a handsome barista at the local coffee shop touched his fingers while passing him his order. No, this was much stronger.

Now, if we’re being entirely honest about the situation Roman is currently in and look at it from an ‘outside of Roman’s tired and hopelessly romantic mind’ point of view, Roman wasn’t so much gazing at the stranger. It was more of staring at him with wide eyes as he tried to breath. In all honesty, he looked like a fish out of water.

The stranger held his stare, equally-or seemingly equally-terrified. It was in that moment that Sugar decided to wander back into the house and start rub her head against her owner’s barefoot. The small action made him laugh-or at least attempt to-which in turn frightened the man, making him jump back as Roman was gasping for air while trying to wiggle his foot away from the clueless cat.

When Roman had finally managed to catch his breath, he quickly ran to the nearest light switch. Had he imagined the whole encounter? Once the switch was flicked on, Roman could feel his heart race in his chest when he saw the strange man in the corner of the room...standing on his couch? Oh, he looked scared. Roman took a slow step forward but jumped backward when he heard Sugar hiss. He had accidentally stepped on her tail and now he felt like the worst human being to ever walk the earth.

From the corner of the room the star watched as the human had jumped back in fear after hearing the creature make a strange sound. It must be a form of protection to scare off attackers.

Roman took another step forward, but this time watched where he was stepping.

“Greetings, Stranger.” Roman started to speak as he neared closer to the man. “I am called Roman and this is my home-”

HISS!

Roman jumped back once again in surprise as the man hissed at him. He took it as a warning to back away. Okay, Ro, baby steps this time and-OH MY GOD HE’S NAKED.

The human dashed away and the star smirked to himself. He wasn’t very knowledgeable on humans, but he was at least a quick learner. Or at least a fast enough learner to see how to protect himself. The star’s sense of ease disappeared the moment the human had returned, but this time they were holding something? It appeared to be a piece of fabric of some sort.

“Let’s-let’s try this again, shall we?” Roman said, raising his hands to try and convey that he wasn’t going to hurt him. “I’m Roman. Roman Prince Figueroa. This is my home, and you’re free to make yourself comfortable if you’d like, but please take this first?” He said while holding out the fabric for the stranger to take.

The star eyed Roman...Roman...This must have been the human that had mistakenly wished on his star while trying to wish on the passing comet. Apparently now he wanted him to take the bundle of fabric from his hands.

Roman couldn’t help but notice the side eye the stranger was giving him. He should be the one giving the side eye right now, no matter how attractive the stranger is! He’s naked in Roman’s own home for Pete’s sake...but, maybe he’s not used to the surroundings? Or even human things? Roman let out a sigh before looking the stranger in the eye.

“Look, I know you don’t really know me and you’re probably unsure of whether to trust me or not, but you have my word that I would do no harm to you. I’m just as confused by all of this as you are and I would just really like to help you get accustomed for now until I can get my friend to figure things out-and he’s really smart, I swear! The guy is literally a walking brain. I’m sure he’ll know what to do, but for now I’m gonna need you to trust me.” he said, speaking earnestly. Who was he if not a man of his word?

The stranger furrowed his eyebrows together in thought before taking a careful step and taking the fabric in his hand to which Roman gave a small, hopeful smile. After the star examined the fabric that appeared to be a human garment of some sort, he raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“It’s a hoodie. I kinda just grabbed the first thing I could since you’re...you know?” Roman replied bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. The stranger silently replied with an unamused look that seemed to say, ‘Do you really think I know?’. Roman took in a deep breath a silently prayed for a right way to say this.

“You’re-...Well, you see-...When-when humans aren’t wearing clothes they’re...kinda naked? Or nude? Whatever you know it as I suppose, but point is that’s kinda what you are...right now…” Roman mentally kicked himself for how awkward he sounded and how confusing the explanation must have been. Curse his tired mind!

“Sorry if that made no sense,” Roman began, looking away from the stranger “I knew I should have gotten some sleep.” That last sentence was more directed to himself than for the stranger to hear.

When Roman turned his attention back to the stranger, he was surprised to see the stranger looking down at their own body with a look of shock while his cheeks began to turn a mix of both purple and black, making the freckles look as if they were swimming in galaxies. Was that normal though?

“Hey, are you alright?” Roman asked, concern lining his voice. The stranger looked back up at Roman and bit the inside of his cheek before shoving the hoodie back into Roman’s arms.

“What are you-?” Roman began, confused by the action. The stranger interrupted by pointing at Roman’s shirt, then to the hoodie, and then to himself. This was definitely an odd situation, but Roman tried his best to figure out what the stranger meant.

“Do you...want the shirt I’m wearing instead?” Roman tried guessing. The stranger shook his head in reply.

“You want my shirt and the hoodie?” was met with another shake of the head from the stranger.

“Do you want something more like the shirt I’m wearing?” Roman tried again, getting a little frustrated, but again the stranger shook his head, a little more aggressively this time.

“I don’t think I’m understanding.” Roman groaned.

‘No kidding.’ The star thought to himself, half amused but mostly annoyed.

“Do you want my pants too or something?” Roman tried again and was met with an even more aggressive shake of the strangers head as well as a dirty look.

“What do you want from me?” Roman said, throwing his arms up in the air in frustration. The stranger ran frustrated hands through his hair before stepping forward and snatching the hoodie back and covering his head with it.

Roman stood there for a moment in surprise. The stranger stood there with his head covered, taking in a deep breath before pointing once again to the hoodie and then to his body. Now Roman felt like an idiot.

“You...you need help putting it on?” Roman asked. The stranger nodded meekly from beneath the hoodie. Why hadn’t Roman thought of that sooner? He must either be very tired or a true idiot...Well that wasn’t a pleasant thought.

“Right...Sorry about that-here, I’ll just-...” Roman said, taking the hoodie off of the stranger’s head before helping him slip his arms through the sleeves and then zipping it up. Thank goodness the hoodie was oversized enough to cover most of him up, but now Roman needed to find him pants. The only issue was that he didn’t have anything clean in his house since he had been procrastinating on doing his laundry. He really should have listened to Logan. At least it didn’t seem like top priority for his surprise house guest since the stranger immediately walked over to the large bookshelf that he kept in the living room.

“So, my dear-uh-what is your name by the way?” Roman asked as he watched with curiosity as his guest passed his hands over the different book titles, letting it linger over a few different ones. For a simple question, he was taking an awfully long time to answer. Did he not want to answer the question? Why was he skimming through the large selection of books? In all honesty, the star-man was very confusing just as he was mysterious. He seemed to have froze with his hand on a particular book, only turning around to give Roman a look of shock and confusion before letting out an amused huff and pulling the book out. He took the book and handed it to Roman before pointing to the title. ‘The Enclogues by Vergilius Maro’ seemed to be the book he had chosen.

“What does this mean to you?” Roman asked, which earned an eye roll from the man.

“Hey, easy there, Buddy. I haven’t slept in over twenty four hours, so do cut me some slack? My brain is exhausted.” Roman admitted, turning his attention back to the book.

The star stood there in shock. Was this human crazy? Just how many hours has he been awake for? This was something he wanted to do something about but there were some formalities to get through first. So for now, the star shook the thought from his mind and pointed to the title again before pointing to himself.

“What are you-?...Is...Is that your name? Vergilius?” Roman asked, a large grin making its way onto his face. The star nodded before using his thumb and index finger to gesture smaller, or in this case, shorter.

“Uh, shorter? Then I guess it would be either Virgil or Verge if I’m right? That’s how people refer to Vergilius nowadays.” Roman said, pondering it for a moment. Virgil smirked, watching Roman think. The man must be pretty intelligent after all, or at least he would guess so based on the fact that he actually had a book by Vergilius Maro, a Roman poet.

“So, Virgil,” Roman tested the name out “what exactly are you doing here?” and in that moment Virgil decided to retract his previous statement. Roman had a feeling that he wasn’t gonna be getting a verbal answer anytime soon, but he had a feeling that he might know someone with the answers he needed.

“You go ahead and stay here, I just have to make a quick, teeny-tiny phone call to that super smart friend I told you about, alright?” Roman said, pointing with his thumbs to the room behind the living room. Virgil simply raised an eyebrow and shrugged before turning his attention back to the bookshelf and the various titles. Once Roman saw him occupied, he dashed to his room and dialed the number from his most recent call.

The phone rang a few times, reminding Roman that it was late, but he had hope that the phone would be answered. That didn’t stop him from chanting, “Come on, pick up-pick up!” in his head until the call finally went through.

“Hello? Roman?” Logan answered groggily from the other end of the line making Roman sigh in relief.

“Hey there, Pal! Sorry to wake ya up, but I kinda have a bit of a problem on my hands?” Roman said, speaking quickly from the nervousness he was feeling now that the reality was sinking in. The line stayed silent for a moment.

“And, what type of situation have you found yourself in exactly?” Logan asked.

“Well-uh-you know how you told me about how you got piss drunk and made a wish on a shooting star only to have it fall from the sky in the form of hunky guy?” Roman replied, his voice an octave higher than normal.

“What-I-I never described him in such-such a way…-What is this about, Roman?”

“Well, it’s late and I haven’t slept in ages so I thought ‘Hmm, a shooting star sounds like a good idea right now’. I went ahead and made a wish on a shooting star, and Sugar was with me and-well, Logan, it’s raining men, hallelujah, it’s raining men.” Roman quickly finished off. “Help?”

————————————————————————————————

A/N: Sooo, I know it’s been a while since I updated, and I know this chapter isn’t very long, but here it is! I had some pretty bad writer’s block (partially from having to write about writer’s block and partially because I’ve been really busy at my new job), but now I’ve got the ball rolling again, so I’ll try to write more on my days off from work so I don’t leave the story without an update for long periods of time ^^” Lol Hope you guys enjoy!!

Tag List: @tenkowo-chabashiwa @ilylogan @anony-phangirl @lunareclipse-524 @beach-fan @bookwormravenclawgirl @professional-fangirl75

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diyunho · 6 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “Mommy” Part 3

It was a well known fact The Joker’s girlfriend left him with four young children and disappeared. It was also known that his ex stepped up and took care of them even if she didn’t have to. The King of Gotham might have lost his woman, but he never lost his Queen.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

After 2 months

The Joker is alone in the VIP room, enjoying his solitude; he ordered everyone to clear the premises and wait outside since his business meeting ended earlier than expected. Out of the blue, the cell alerts of a new message. J slides the screen and a picture with you and Mia laughing pops up: you are both wearing matching headbands with yellow flowers, identical pearl necklaces and PJ’s made from the same fabric.

He barely smiles, when a new picture with you and now all the boys added in the frame pops up, apparently ready for bed. The Joker’s smile gets a little bit wider, then after a few seconds it disappears under the usual frown. He starts texting something back but changes his mind and erases the words, staring at the images one more time before placing the phone inside his pocket.

At the penthouse, you didn’t even wait for a reply since J never comments when you send him pics with the children; you get notifications they were seen and I guess that’s the best you’ll ever get.

“Kase honey, stop jumping on the bed, it’s time to sleep, ok?”

The four years old is still energetic so he keeps on jumping, chanting your name:

“Mo-mmy! Mo-mmy!!! Mo-mmyyy!!!”

“Kasey, be good and listen to me!” you try to make him behave while exiting his room with a clear purpose: taking Mia to her crib. The baby girl fell asleep in your arms, resting her head on your good shoulder. You are really not supposed to hold the kids or lift them up since it will take a while to completely heal from the injury you sustained, yet sometimes you can’t help it.

You carefully place her in the cradle, sneaking up into the room next door to make sure the twins are still dozing off. Thank goodness they are and you close the door to their bedroom, immediately rushing to Kase’s room when you hear the thud followed by crying.

The boy was hopping up and down when he accidentally moved too much towards the edge of the bed and landed on the floor right on his face. The carpet is soft but the impact scared him nevertheless.

“My poor little man,” you pick him up, worried he might have broken something.

Kase whimpers and hugs you, searching for comfort. You kiss the child’s head and caress his back, soothing the pain.

“Are you ok?” you wipe his tears, making him sit on the bed while you analyze him.

“Y-yes…” he stutters, sniffling.

“Then why are you crying honey?” you ask, cupping his face and the answer makes you hold in the laugh.

“Don’t know, mommy…”

“You’re silly,” you kiss his cheek, happy nothing bad happened. “You want me to read you a bedtime story?”

“U-hum, “ he nods, distracted by the offer. You get Kase under the covers and snuggle with him, reading until he falls asleep. And the busy day you had catches up with you, making you snooze in there before you have a chance to go to your own bedroom.

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

“Y/N…Y/N, wake up!” The Joker shakes you and finally gets a reaction; he’s been calling your name and you didn’t even hear his first attempts.

“What time is it?” you turn towards him and Kase instinctively moves closer, searching for the warmth of your body.

“It’s 2 in the morning. Come on, hurry up, we have to go: it smells like gas downstairs, I think we have a gas leak!”

“Jesus!” you wake up in an instant, pulling Kase in your arms and struggling to get up; your shoulder hurts since you carried Mia around yesterday. “I’ll take him, go to the car!” he wraps his son in the blanket, not fazed by the protesting moans.

“Dadddddyyyyy,” the boy yawns, closing his eyes, upset with the ruckus.

“You’re fine, brat !” J lifts him higher in his arms and follows you. You want to get the other kids, but some of the henchmen are already helping, having them in blankets and heading towards the elevator. The gas detector is beeping in a frenzy but you were so exhausted you had no clue.

“Yuck, the smell,” you cover your nose, waiting for J to catch up with you. “Are we going to my house until this is taken care of?”

“I suppose so,” he growls and you know why: The Joker hates your house, always complains it’s too small.

Situated on the property you use as the children’s playground – 3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, a large living room and a spacious kitchen- the one level home is more than enough when needed. Since you live mostly at the penthouse, you never feel the need to upgrade. Usually the boys sleep in one bedroom and you sleep with Mia, this way J has his own room. If he’s not coming to stay when you take the kids there, you move Aiden and Zane to their father’s bedroom. Simple and easy.

Not for The King of Gotham though. “Simple and easy” are not his thing.

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

“It’s cold in this stupid house!” J complains as soon as he enters the master bedroom where you gathered all the kids in the same bed, waiting for the central heating to warm up the house.

“You know I don’t have the heat on when we’re not here; it’s not safe. Be patient, it will get hot soon,” the reply attempts to explain the obvious situation.

“Gimme 2 kids, I need to warm up. I’ll take them to my bedroom!” he gestures towards the twins.

The two year olds are not excited about their dad’s strategy: they are cranky and whiney because they got woken up in the middle of the night and transported to another location. They hold on to you, burying their faces in the pillows.

“Hugging all the kids, hm?” J snarls, irritated. No other choice but to crawl in the big bed also.

You choose not to comment: how is this your fault?!

The Joker snatches Mia that is sleeping in your arms and places her on top of him, moving Kase to his left, this way he has some bodies around to warm up with.

“That’s better,” he grumbles, covering everyone with an extra blanket. Kase reaches for you, wanting to go back to the spot next to his mother but J won’t have any of it:

“Stop wiggling and sleep!”

“I want my mommy,” his son complains and The Joker gets mad:

“What am I, decoration?! She’s literally a few inches away!”

“Kase, go to sleep honey, ok?” you plead, touched by how much the children love you. “Mommy’s here.”

In about 30 minutes the house reaches a comfortable temperature and J tiptoes out of crowded bed, wanting the privacy of his own room.

You keep on tossing and turning; your shoulder aches and you’ll definitely need some pain killers if you want to be able to rest. You slowly move away from the kids, not wanting to startle them. It’s so sweet to see the four innocent souls peacefully dreaming, curled up under the cozy fleece blankets.

“J, are you still awake?” you knock at his door.

“Yes, come in,” he turns on the lamp, curious on why you’re still up. You open the door and step inside.

“My shoulder hurts and I forgot the painkillers at the penthouse. Can we send…”

“I have your med,” he shows you his coat on the chair. “Upper pocket.”

“Oh, that’s awesome!” you sigh, digging in there and retrieving the much needed remedy. ”Thank you.”

“Here,” he dismisses your gratitude, handing over the bottle of water kept on the nightstand.

You swallow 2 tablets, taking a deep breath when the sharp pain pokes at the surgery site.

“Get in,” The Joker slides on the sheets, making space for you.

You almost choke on the water and he rolls his eyes.

“Are you afraid I’m gonna take advantage of you?”

“No,” you hesitantly debate on his proposition, confused about it.

“Then get in,” he reinforces his will. “Don’t look at me like that!” J glares in your direction, not a big fan of that intrigued expression on your face.

You listen to him though and comply.

“What did the doctor say? Do you need more blood transfusions?” he starts the conversation as soon as you are next to him. You bite on your lip, nodding a no. “Well, if you do let me know, alright?”

“OK…” you agree, perfectly aware on why he’s interested: after all the blood loss you sustained with the stabbing, you needed more to replenish what was depleted. They had you hooked up to the IV ready to go, when J had a fit because the doctor didn’t notify him of the procedure. The Clown Prince of Crime was furious he wasn’t asked to donate blood: he’s a universal donor, a match for all blood types. Of course the medical team had to apologize and be thankful they weren’t killed on the spot.

They also had to listen to his rant about how generously rewarded they were for being allowed to take care of the mother of his children and how they couldn’t even keep him updated on your condition. That was the first time you heard him talk like that and it was hard to hold in the tears: it made you aware he did appreciate the sacrifices his ex-girlfriend made over the years while taking care of his babies. The Joker just never showed it; he’s not that kind of person.

Needless to say you do have his blood running through your veins now. And you could have more if necessary.

You stare at each other in silence: you have a feeling there’s a purpose to his behavior.

“Why did you remove the tattoo?” J unexpectedly blurs out.

Ahhh, there we go: that’s why you were cordially invited to stay; he wants to talk about stuff bothering him. Might as well since you want to take a few things off your chest also.

You answer with a question:

“Why would I want my ex boyfriend’s name on my skin?!”

“I worked on that tattoo for weeks! It was perfect, my best one !” J cuts you off.

It’s always about him, of course.

“We weren’t together anymore, no point in keeping it…”

“I worked on it !!!”

This is not going well.

“The lack of a tattoo doesn’t…”

“I spent weeks on that ink!” he interrupts again.

But you can’t hold in your own escalating anger:

“Why did you always bring Anya back?! Why did you tolerate her behavior?! Why did you keep on getting her pregnant?! She was horrible! And you didn’t want to have any children with me when we were together ! I would have been a great mother!!”

You lick you lips, running out of breath after the valid outburst. The Joker’s eyes have a sudden threatening sparkle, not expecting you’ll turn the tables on him.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you !” he grumbles, annoyed. “But I have to?!” you fight back, more and more upset. “Why…” and your voice breaks…”Why did you like her so much?…”

“I don’t like anybody!” he mutters through his silver teeth.

“You did like her a lot, it’s obvious…” you sadly smile. “And she neglected the kids, almost killed her own daughter… She never cared about you either…So…why did you like her so much?” you persist, unwilling to quit. At this point there’s no use: you are both fired up.

“Get out of here!” his menacing voice shrieks. “Get out before I might do something I can’t take back !” he pushes you away, struggling to contain his temper. “OUT!”

You don’t budge and J continues to violently shove you towards the end of the bed.

“Get out I said !” he pants, provoked by your rebellious behavior.

You don’t even feel the shoulder pain anymore or anything else for the matter.

“Why did you like her so much?” you repeat and he covers your mouth, rolling on top of you. The Joker realizes you’re not attempting to escape his grip; you just gaze at him without squirming.

“Get out of my sight!” J hisses, annoyed at your apathy; you’ve been in charge of his security for years, he knows you can defend yourself.

Why don’t you?

He lifts himself up a bit in order to give you one last nudge that will make you fall off the bed, when your arms tightly wrap around his neck, pulling him back on top of you.

“Why did you like her so much?” you forcefully hold him close when J wants to escape the embrace. “Why did you like her more than me?” you whisper in his ear and start crying, unable to suppress the burning question you wanted to ask for years. “I was loyal, I really loved you and never cheated,” your shaky voice makes him pay attention. “And you still broke up with me. And I didn’t object continuing to work for you when you asked. And I took care of your children when you asked,” you start sobbing and his face is buried in your neck, still mad yet listening. “You told me you trust me and that I never stopped being the Queen…Queen of what?” you lift his head up so you can look at him.“Queen of nothing?” and the tears keep on uncontrollably stream down your cheeks, your heart aching a hundred times more than the stabbing wound.

The Joker doesn’t bother to react or protest when you finally slide from under him, catching your breath while sitting at the edge of the bed. You wipe your eyes and prepare to go back to the kids just as his words barely make it out:

“You’re my children’s Queen and The Queen of this city. And…and my Queen since I can’t find a better one I can trust…”

Instead of making you happy, the sentences deepen your gloomy mood. J gets under the covers, turning his back on you, done with it all. He senses you scooting over closer to him until your steady breath lingers on his neck.

“Why are you still here?” he grouchily mutters and he feels your lips pressing on his shoulder.

“You want me to go?” you sigh. “Or…can I stay?”

“Suit yourself,” he reaches for the lamp and turns it off, not opposing to your left hand finding its way around his waist.

You’re almost napping when The Joker reopens the discussion:

“If by some miracle one of these days you manage to keep a man and get married, you still have to take care of the children; that’s an order !” he spits out with a hateful tone.

“ I really love your children; I couldn’t abandon them,” you cling to him more, somehow comforted when your hand is being moved from around his waist and kissed after a few seconds.

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

The next day he avoids you.

You spend a lot of time outside on the porch, watching the kids play in the snow: even if is mid-February, there is plenty left for them to enjoy.

“Mommy… for you,” Zane gives you a snow ball, excited it made you smile. Mia is chewing one of her toys, cozy on the thick blanket she’s placed on at your feet.

“Thank you baby,” you kiss his nose, making sure to button up his jacket one more time. He likes to unbutton it; surely takes after his father, can’t keep stuff buttoned up. The thought gives you a sudden boost of positivity while watching him run back to his brothers. Aiden trips him and they both fall to the ground laughing, Kase trying to squeeze in between them because he wants to join in the fun.

“Don’t hurt yourselves !” you shout, the maternal instinct surfacing for the millionth time today and you help Mia up, the cute Princess standing without too much help; pretty soon she’ll be able to walk on her own.

You peak behind you through the huge glass windows, seeing The Joker talking to Frost. The King of Gotham is fast to throw something in the trash can, visibly irritated.

“Mommy, look !” Aiden yells, showing you the wall of snow he’s starting to build with his siblings.

“Good job honey!” you praise, waving at the boys and J steps outside, crabby disposition noticeable from a mile away. “Hey, did Frost tell you how long it will be until we can return to the penthouse?” you’re curious to find out since you hardly spoke to him since this morning.

“At least one week,” he growls, displeased at the news. “The pipes need to be replaced at the lower level. Only one duct was leaking, but they want to change all of them for safety.”

“That makes sense,” you grunt and lift Mia up, The Joker scolding:

“You’re not supposed to do that !”

“I know, I know,” you agree and he gestures for her. After finding herself in his arms, the little girl starts munching on his coat’s collar, babbling words that almost resemble “mama” and “dada”.

“Greeeat, another one to chew my ears off,” he frowns and it doesn’t go well with you.

“Why do you have to take the joy out of everything? Aren’t you happy Mia will walk and talk soon?” you sulk, not understanding why he can’t appreciate the little things.

Sarcasm follows:

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be? It’s something a kid never did before, right? Pfft,” he scoffs, ”you’re the one that got emotional when each kid learned to walk and speak; I don’t get the hype.”

“Of course you don’t,” you grumble, concluding the children must be hungry after playing for so long. “Darlings, come inside; it’s time to eat!”

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

You stop drinking your tea and elbow J, making him pay attention to the touching scene taking place at the kids’ table: the boys are eating and feeding their little sister also. Kase is actually standing, holding her hand and she nibbles on the chicken nugget offered by Aiden. As soon as Mia starts chewing, the boys eat some more too, waiting for her to finish what she has in her mouth.

Your eyes get teary; even if they did it before, you find it irresistibly adorable.

“That’s very cute,” you gulp, getting ready to help. The boys can mostly feed themselves, yet their mom’s intervention is more than welcomed.

J smirks, quietly adding more salad to his dish.

You head over to the counter, wanting to dump leftovers from your plate in the garbage can before helping the kids. The small box resting on top of the trash is discretely taking out by a curious Y/N. Is this what he threw in there earlier?!

You open it and hold your breath: it’s a gold bracelet; a simple circle beaded with a few diamonds, engraved with plain, meaningful words:

To: Mommy

From: Kase, Aiden, Zane and Mia

J hears you sniffling behind him and turns his head to see what’s going on. You hold the bracelet in the palm of your hand, speechless.

“Why is this in the garbage?!” you bite your cheek. “Help me put in on please.”

He doesn’t seem willing to fulfill your demand.

“I had no clue you dig in the trash now! Is it a part time job?” he mocks, cranky you found the customized gift he ordered eight days ago and decided to dispose of.

“Help me put it on,” you disregard his bitterness and J nags:

“It’s a gold hoop, easy to use, no clasp or nothing.”

“I want you to help me… please…”

That’s the point: you want him to do it.

“You’re annoying !” he yanks at you wrist, gliding the bracelet against the soft skin.

“Daaadddy, I’m thirsty,” Zane whines, coming over with his empty cup.

“Oh goody, someone finally needs me!” The Joker’s sassiness escalates for no reason.

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

You creep inside his bedroom without knocking and lean your back against the closed door, waiting.

“Can I sleep here?” you utter, not looking his way.

“It’s your house, isn’t it?” the indirect invitation follows and you crawl in the bed by him, keeping a safe distance. “We can fit the twins between us; why aren’t you coming closer? Or are you scared you won’t be able to behave?”

You actually giggle, surprised you feel nervous.

“I think I’m alright, ” and you bring your body near his, cuddling like you used to years ago when you were together.

“Here’s the thing Y/N,” The Joker lifts your chin up. “If you sense any activity bellow my waist, don’t flatter yourself. It’s just a natural reaction due to the closeness. Are you…are you fucking blushing when I’m just messing with you?!” he teases and you feel your cheeks burning.

“I’m not blushing,” you whisper, embarrassed at your stupid vulnerability.

“You totally are,” J grins and you are aware it’s true. You wiggle in his arms, cautiously considering your next words. The smile perishes on his lips when you ask:

“J…Can you make love to me?”

He looks surprised and you feel awkward.

“That was dumb to say,” you patch your mistake with a fake, clumsy laugh.

“Of course I can,” The Joker’s face comes really close to yours. “The question is if I want to.”

“Well,” you gulp, “do you want to?…”

“Maybe…” he gropes you, thinking. Or is he just pretending?

“Moommyyyyyy,” is heard from the next bedroom, Aiden starting to cry because he probably had a nightmare.

“Such a missed opportunity,” J chuckles and you get out of bed in a hurry, but he grabs your hand, squeezing it before releasing the hold: “Come back afterwards.”

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

The children weren’t used to find their mommy sleeping in the same room with their father, but that changed two years ago. They don’t know what it means, but one thing’s for sure: they love coming in the master bedroom at the penthouse and jump on the bed, waking up both parents and horsing around all morning until The Joker hides under the pillows, displeased with the noise.

Mommy never complains though; she always shows her affection and lets them touch her growing belly, telling them their new sister is in there. So fascinating for the kids! And they are getting more and more impatient, especially the little girl: she was told she will be the big sister and it sounds like an important task.

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

“Baby?” the three years old Mia’s squeaky voice inquires, excited and curious to see such a tiny doll in your arms.

“Yes honey, this is your sister Emma,” you smile, pecking her forehead. You are sitting on the floor with the kids around you and they are seeing their sister for the first time.

“Waahhhh, she’s so cute,” Kase caresses the small head, mesmerized.

“Can I kiss her?” Zane claps his hands, puckering his lips.

“Sure,” you agree and Aiden wants to do the same.

“Me too!” the oldest kisses her also and Mia pushes him away, pouting:

“She’s my sissy!”

“Hey, hey, no fighting! Emma is everybody’s, ok?” you try to alleviate the quarrel, amused it’s already starting. It took like…40 seconds for the rivalry to surface.

“Look daaa’yy, baby!” Mia snickers, presenting Emma to her father like some kind of treasure. He’s been sitting at his desk, watching their reactions. You smile, softly rocking the new born when it fusses from the commotion.

“I know, I made her,” he sneers, winking and the kids are completely absorbed by the new addition to the family.

“Can I hold her?” Zane extends his arms and you carefully place Emma in his grip, holding both of them so he won’t drop her.

You notice the Joker is the proud possessor of a very arrogant aura and you know why: he’s been bragging all afternoon that he makes very cute babies and no matter how the mom looks like, he compensates for the deficit. Such nonsense!

But the annoying truth is that he does make beautiful babies.

“Mommy, can I hold her too?” Aiden begs, getting you out of daze.

“Sure can,” you nod, wondering when the jealousy will actually kick in.

You are definitely prepared for the challenge: this might have been your first pregnancy, but it’s actually your fifth child. It shouldn’t be too hard since…

Once a mother always a mother.