For days there’s been a boy in the hospital room next door who won’t stop screaming. And, against your better judgement, you decide to find out who exactly this guy is.
rating: 13+ (707 route + secret end 02 + tiny itty bitty bit of v route spoilers)
notes: argh. finally updating this one after a while too.
so, uh, v route guys, LOL. i finished it a few days ago and what a trip that was. and what a blessing ray is. and a curse. how to write saeran now? well, in the case of this fic, it follows the secret ends so it’ll have to follow that line of his character (or i try to at least ahaha). but traces of ray will appear! like in this chapter! the garden thing was already planned so i was pleased to find ray likes flowers! works out for me here! /shot
anyway, this chapter was hard to write for other reasons. i’m still not completely satisfied with it, but alas. i still hope that you guys enjoy.
The Joker came up with the idea a
while ago: from time to time you will have ”your day”, which means that for 12 hours you can do whatever you
want. Sometimes it happens twice a month, sometimes weeks and weeks go by and…nothing.
He secretly likes to make you happy but he wouldn’t admit it even if his life depends
on it. A real sweetheart. T__T
(warning: a bit of smut)
“Princess, today’s your day.” His
raspy voice comes from behind you, his breath on your shoulder, waiting for your
You’re sitting on the couch, reading
a magazine, bored to death. You quickly lift your head up, turning to see him, full
“Oh my God, J, like…for reals?”
“For reals,” he confirms, grinning
his silver teeth at you.
You scream, tossing the magazine to
the side, pulling him for a fast kiss, then you push him back and you get off
“That’s all I get?” he complains with
a puzzled look on his face. Oh, he’s such a little jerk, he knows what follows.
“Hold on, let me get dressed, I’ll be
back in a sec, Puddin. “
You are soooooo excited; you didn’t
have your day in almost three months. You run to your closet and get your skimpy
favorite outfit out that you like to wear for such…occasions: a tight red and
green t-shirt (your and his favorite colors) barely going down halfway your abs
, short enough to reveal
your “Property of Joker” huge tattoo spread across your pelvis, plus the matching
really short shorts with your name
printed in the front and his printed on the back. Add the high hills and…you’re
You go back in the living room, and
he sits on his chair, waiting, playing with his gold chains.
“Under 5 minutes, Princess, I’m impressed.
I should let you have your day more often, this way you get ready in time,” he mocks
“Whatever Mister J,” you roll your
eyes while sprinting towards him and landing on his lap. “First thing on my
list, always,” you whisper, pulling down on his bottom lip with your finger,
teasing him a bit before you start kissing him passionately.
thing on your list is always making out with J for about half an hour. The
reason why? He usually would do it for about 10, 15 minutes and then… well, you
can imagine with him being such an impatient man. When it’s your day he can’t
stop until you stop. Ha! Sucker! For sure taking advantage of this. You know it’s
about time to put an end to it when your lips go numb. His hands are all over
you and you know what he wants but it’s not going to happen right now. You have
more stuff to do and can’t waste time, otherwise you’ll be trapped in the
bedroom all day.
He growls, unhappy, trying to pull
you back when you part from his mouth and you know better than to let him snitch
you. You dodge his hand and walk backwards,
licking on your lips so you can get some feeling back into them; they feel so
red and swollen, just like his. You let out a devilish snicker (and you know
you’ll pay for all of it later), encouraging him to get up so you can finally
leave the penthouse.
“Come on, babeee, I wanna have fun
out there, come on, pleasseeeee?”
“Damn it, it’s your day, I guess,” he
gives up, frustrated, because he has to. He came up with the stupid thing
anyway and now he can’t take it back. You smile to yourself watching him walk a
bit funny towards the elevator. You almost feel sorry for him. Almost…
To compensate, you let him give you a few hickeys
on the way down, this way he feels like he’s getting some revenge on you.
thing on your list is shopping and actually paying for the stuff you like. The
Joker pouts and has a tantrum because his Pumpkin shouldn’t do such a common, boring
thing as paying for stuff. But what are you supposed to do with all the money
you have anyway?!
you are out during the day, you are using a black, unmarked car and you ask him
to take you in Gotham woods at your favorite spot so he can speed and race.
OMG, you love speed. He drives like a demon through the paved road, mostly
deserted since Mister J bought the property last year and closed it down to the
public. He does cookies and spins too and you love it until it starts to make
Puddin, I think I’m good now!” you let him know with a grimace. “I’m starting
to get sick.”
J snickers, still doing a few more doughnuts while you dig your nails in his
arm, yelling at him to stop. He can be such a stubborn ass sometimes. Thank God
his rampage doesn’t last for longer.
go to the movies and he rents a whole screening room just for the two of you.
You wanted to watch a scary movie and he wanted to watch you get naked but you
win because it’s your day and you have plans. He frowns for the length of the
whole movie, arms crossed on his chest, not even looking your way until the
end. Jeez, sometimes you feel you live with a 5 year old. You sigh and you have
to be the bigger person (again) and give him your neck for more hickeys. That seems
to please him, but you’re sure you will regret it in a little bit. In fact, you
already are, your skin looks like a bruised up minefield.
lunch with Frost and his new girlfriend. You really like her since she’s your
sister. They both seem to stare at your love bites that you don’t even try to
hide. You like to wear them with pride, like battle wounds. People need to know
how you suffer. Small talk going on, she lifts her eyebrows, pointing her lips towards
your hickeys and you sigh, rolling your eyes and soundlessly mutter “temper.”
She understood what you said and she giggles, quickly coughing when Mister J
looks your way. You play with your food, trying to look as innocent as possible.
The boys don’t talk too much; they are kind of socially awkward anyway. You don’t
think they know what to say to each other except work stuff.
to the penthouse, day almost over with.
Princess, hurry up!” the Joker rushes you, coming out of the bedroom with only his
gym shorts on, your name printed all over. You guys really like
ready, almost done! I swear!” you grab
the popcorn from the microwave, plus your Pepsi and you follow him to the gym
area. This is one on the best things to ask for when it’s your day: the Joker working
out and you watching, eating popcorn and sipping on your drink. It’s better than
any movie, ever. You whistle and roar every couple of minutes, visibly pleased
with the view.
Puddin, work it! Oh, look at those muscles,” your eyes widen, totally getting
excited. He’s starting to sweat a bit and that makes him look even more delicious
to you and he knows it. He gets off the weight bench and with just two fingers
he slowly and seductively pulls down on his shorts, watching your mouth open in
anticipation. You choke on the popcorn but quickly recover because the show is
getting better and better. Right before he uncovers what you’re dying to see,
he pulls up his shorts, full of himself.
for doing the same thing to me all day, baby doll.”
a jerk! He’ll pay; your day is not over yet.
come help me?” he winks and you agree, still upset though.
doing pushups with you sitting on his back and you count.
“50,51,52 …Wow, J, how many can you do?! Last time you
hundred,” he grunts from under your weight, pushing himself to the limit.
impressed, you know,” you reply, spanking him and continuing to count,
back to slurping on your Pepsi.
for your grand finale, you lured The Joker in the bedroom,( which was effortless
after you took your top off) and tight him to the bed with handcuffs. You still
have 20 minutes from your day left so you decided he’s going to pay for the
hickeys, for the gym scene and for other things he always does to you.
him to the max, kissing him all over, brushing your skin on his but not letting
him touch you himself. You bite his flesh softly and he just goes crazy.
me, doll, I can’t take it anymore, I want you right now. “
have three minutes,” you give him an evil smile, licking his neck.
stop it or I swear I’m gonna punish you the worst way possible.”
do it…Daddy!” you smirk.
he’s done. When you call him Daddy he’s a goner and you soooo know it.
going to be nice, Puddin and untie you a minute earlier”, you smile, feeling
sorry for him and to be honest at this point for you too. “But you owe me since
you’re cutting into my time.”
purrs, biting his lips, his eyes devouring you.
Puddin, I can’t find the keys,” you say, looking around the bed, trying to hold
not yet,” you giggle, still looking around.
lets his head fall down on the pillow, annoyed.
them, I swear I will, but now…”
on top of him, forcing him to look at you again.
what… Daddy? We can have fun anyway, it’s not like we didn’t do this before. Since
you find yourself in this…position, I will just have to take advantage of you.”
You kiss him roughly and he lets out a deep moan.
“I don’t deserve
something I don’t know,” you bite his lip and pull yourself up, starting
to take your bra off.
Eggsy slumped down in his seat rather ungracefully, and
Harry tsked softly, turning around to
face him fully.
“Young man, did your manners truly disintegrate that much while I was gone?”
The remark was obviously meant to be teasing, and Eggsy took
it as such. It seemed that finally enough time had passed, and it didn’t feel
as if the breath had been punched from his lungs when Harry’s absence was brought up. Well- for the
most part. He snorted lightly.
“I’ll have you know sir,
that my manners are flawless, thank you very much,” he accented this sentence
by leaning back further and propping his feet up onto Harry’s desk.
Trying my hand at a hartwin fic for a change ahhhh, because I am in desperate need of more post-The Golden Circle fix-it stuff.
“You love me,” I marveled. The sense of conviction and rightness washed through me again.
Though his eyes were still anxious, the crooked smile I loved best flashed across his face. “Truly, I do.”
My heart inflated like it was going to crack right through my ribs. It filled my chest and blocked my throat so that I could not speak.
He really did want me the way I wanted him—forever. It was only fear for my soul, for the human things he didn’t want to take from me, that made him so desperate to leave me mortal. Compared to the fear that he didn’t want me, this hurdle—my soul—seemed almost insignificant.
Your reaction gifs are hilarious - I'm quite rolling on the floor, slightly giggling and grinning! I really don't need something to react to - I'd like to use them just for fun BEFORE somebody says something! I could look at them for ages... especially the Khan one. What the hell happened to his hair there? Did the hair department run out of hairspray? Or was it just too dangerous for them to get close enough to him cause he was already too angry to stop punching in every face 10 meters around?!
Ahahahaha thank you. :)
Did you mean this Khan reaction gif?
What happened to his hais is too much sexiness, I believe. Oh I looooove that hair. Some friends of mine call it ‘see weed hair’, like see weed swayes in the sea water… But I like your version, too, ehehehe.
howdy fellows! I have just returned from watching the newest episode of drunk minecraft…eheheh…yes..that is a thing that i definitely did…I especially like the part with the drinking…and the mining…oh! and the crafting….hehe…he…
Fine! Fine! I didn’t actually watch it. I got just far enough to see bunnies and I panicked ok! what was I supposed to do? I have a thing! You dont just go around ignoring things. especially things about grown men and small furry animals. If that’s wrong then I don’t want to be right.
Monday, January 6th. Or better know to some people as Sherlock Holmes’ Birthday.
It wasn’t like they were going to forget, no matter how much Sherlock tried to deny he liked it: ‘Such a trivial thing, to celebrate the day one was born. Really, I’m not that self centered. Everyone is born.’
This comment was always met with a roll of the recipient’s eyes.
However, the fact that Sherlock wouldn’t - and he wouldn’t - stop asking about what his friends were doing on that particular Monday was almost solid proof that he wanted people to acknowledge that he had, in fact, been born.
So, Greg, Molly, John and Mary (Mrs. Hudson and even Wiggins had chipped in too) worked together to give Sherlock a lovely birthday. It would be small, just a surprise (if they could keep it a surprise) party, that he would return to after John had taken him out on a case that same day.
Monday 6th January
They were all shuffling around, John had just texted Greg to say that they were 5 minutes away and that he didn’t think he suspected anything.
They were each positioned around the living room, each with a party popper.
There had been an argument about the need of party poppers, however, Mary had settled it.
Molly’s present for Sherlock was packed away in her rucksack. She initially hadn’t a clue of what to buy him. That was until a couple of weeks ago last Thursday. It had been a very insightful conversation:
“Sherlock?” She asked, blowing on her to-hot-to-drink tea, “What do you like to do other than this?” Her hand gestured over the body he was analyzing with a fierce scrutiny.
He looked up to her and his furrowed eyebrows relaxed.
“Well, a lot of things, actually.” He announced, straightening up.
“Yes…What like?” Molly urged.
“Well…I mean, I like to read. Did you know I can read at a rate of-” He sat on a lab stool, staring to ramble off in his usual way which Molly knew he did when he wasn’t familiar with something. Molly quickly interjected:
“Yes Sherlock, It probably is very fast. I believe you. But, tell me, what sort of books do you like?”
“I like to read some factual stuff, the more philosophical kind, I think you could probably understand why the books made up purely of facts alone would bore me,”
“Yes, yes, I could imagine why.” Molly assured, taking a sip of her tea but still keeping her eye on Sherlock.
“But I think I like reading classic and adventure novels most of all. They’re my favourite. Always have been.” Sherlock wandered off, thinking about how he used to sit in his garden completely engrossed by different adventure novels that his mum would take him to buy every month at the local bookstore in town. His favourite being Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. he had read that book about 45 times by the time he was 10.
After several minutes of silence, Molly piped up again:
“Oh.” Sherlock was bought out of his little ponder.“Ah…yes…and Bees.” He finalised, turning back to the body, busying himself.
“Bees?” Molly asked, confused.
“Yes, well, I grew up in the country and My father kept beehives. We used to make our own honey and, as a child, I was fascinated with them; the way they carried their pollen, the different jobs within the hive, how we humans depended on such small creatures.”
“Wow.” Molly hadn’t realised she had spoken until it was too late.
“What?” He asked, confused as to why she sounded so fascinated. They were only bees.
“Oh, never mind, I just…I just…didn’t think that you would…you know…”
“Care about a little thing like that?” He finished, raising an eyebrow, but also staring at her intensely.
So after Molly finished work, she decided to take a trip to her favourite bookstore in search for some adventure books and, hopefully, a book about beekeeping.
That had been when a neat little thought popped into her head.
What if she could give Sherlock bees?
She knew she couldn’t really give him a load of bees, however, after a lot of internet searching, she adopted him a beehive in his home county of the Sussex Downs, a couple of days after she got the gift pack and a certificate - Molly slipped the certificate in between the pages of an ancient looking beekeeping book she had managed to find at the bookstore. She also bought old editions of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, A Journey to the Center of the Earth, The Hobbit and Treasure Island. All little boy’s books, she remarked, however, the idea of a little version of Sherlock, sat, reading similar books and being absolutely enthralled was too much and so she just had to buy them and see if they would turn him back to 9 years old again.
They could all hear him coming up the stairs and when John opened the door they all burst out:
Party poppers popped and streams of coloured paper covered the sitting room.
He was trying so desperately to cover up how much he loved this surprise.
As the bangers stopped, Sherlock quietly muttered:
Before everyone came rushing towards him with hugs and presents and well wishings. All except Molly, she stayed back and simply smiled at him.
She decided she would give her present without the company of others. Not sure that he would want other people to see his softer side. She understood now that she was the only one to know about his nightmares - yes, Sherlock Holmes had nightmares - his younger, more troubled days, the days when he was ‘dead’ and now she knew about his hobbies. It was a strange relationship they had.
An hour later
Wiggins and Greg were already drunk and John and Mrs Hudson were tipsy. The party atmosphere was definitely in swing.
While it was loud and everyone was chatting, this was when Molly decided to make her move. She just needed to get him away for a couple of seconds and then he could re-enter with a nice, new present.
She walked up behind him - he was talking to John and ‘Billy’ - and tapped him light;y on the shoulder,
“Sherlock could I talk to you for a second? Outside?”
“Of course.” He answered her, putting down his champagne glass.
Wiggins wolf-whistled as they stepped out onto the landing.
“I need to give you your present.” Molly explained, shuffling around in the rucksack.
“Why out here?” he quizzed as he waited, looking at Molly who seemed to be fumbling around an awful lot.
She finally found what she had been looking for and answered him:
“I didn’t think you’d want the others to see it.”
“I don’t know, I guess it’s sort of more personal to you.”
She handed him the five packages, wrapped in brown paper with string.
“Sorry about the wrapping it’s a bit-” she commented, worrying herself.
“-No, it’s fine really.” Sherlock took the wrapping off the first book. “Oh.” He remarked, looking at the used and abused cover of an oh-so-familiar children’s novel.
“Oh god, you hate it don’t you.” she squirmed, “I thought it was a bit risky. I’m sorry. I can take them back and give you money instead. I-” She had noticed his face which looked neither happy nor angry. She knew Sherlock was good at hiding his emotions, however, she just had a gut feeling he didn’t like it. She hid her pink cheeks under her hands.
However, Sherlock quickly interrupted her worried thoughts by prising her hands away from her face and smiling.
“Molly. Please stop worrying. I love it.”
“Yes. I do. This was - no, is - my favourite book. I used to read it on our lawn, or in my father’s chair in the winter, when I was a child. My copy was never as beautiful as this though. Thank you.”
Sherlock leaned in and kissed her cheek slowly and as he pulled away she told him:
“There are more Sherlock!” and pointed excitedly at the others in his hands.
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer elicited an interested noise from him and he told her how he never got to read this as a child, but Mycroft had a copy but would not let him even breathe on it. A Journey to the Center of the Earth made Sherlock regale her in how he had found a rabbit hole while he was walking the dog one day and tried to enter the centre of the earth through it, but eventually got stuck and Mycroft came looking for him a couple of hours later. The Hobbit was a book both Molly and Sherlock had read many times, however it never got old and they said that they would try and read it together again at some point.
As Sherlock opened the Beekeeping book, the small certificate fell to the floor.
On picking it up he gasped:
“Of course I remembered you idiot. I’m not going to forget that you like to look after bees.” She giggled, trying to find the gift pack she had gotten on sponsoring a beehive.
As she gave the small collection of things to him, she saw how perfectly excited he looked.
“You know you really didn’t have to buy me anything Molly.” He added, looking up to her after finally finishing flicking through all the beekeeping guides.
“Of course I did. It’s your birthday, everyone needs something on their birthday, even if they are Sherlock Holmes.”
“Molly you really should be getting the present. Your too good sometimes. So patient.” He sighed defeatedly, pilling the presents up in his arms.
Molly couldn’t help but pull him into a hug and return his earlier kiss on the cheek.
“Happy Birthday Sherlock Holmes.”
40 years later
“I’m worried about those bees Molly.” Sherlock moaned for the umpteenth time as his wife came and sat down beside him in her chair next to the fire.
“Sherlock, they’ll be fine. The people at the apiary know just what to do.” She squeezed his hand, knowing from 30 years experience that whenever there was a particularly cold winter - and I mean when wasn’t there - he wanted his bees to be safe and sound. She thought that given half the chance, he would move them in here with them. That certainly wouldn’t work, not with the dog.
“But-” he protested before Molly cut him off.
“Sherlock, we’ve owned those bees for 40 years, admittedly they aren’t the same ones we started out with, but we’ve kept the hive healthy, I mean we even moved down here for gods sake, just so you could spend more time looking after them; and you have. Lots of new baby bees were born and not a single one has died from any of those 40 winters. Not one. So, please stop worrying and enjoy your god damn birthday.”
He had been shut up by Molly once again and he squeezed her hand back before he took out his reading book and Molly took out hers.