Questions
1. Is your Otp canon or is it just a shattered dream?
...Shattered dream. Mary comes along this series (when series 3 decides to show it's face) but I hold out hope for Johnlock!
2. If you could bring one fictional character to life as your significant other who would it be?
Uhhh... Probably gonna have to be Merlin or Q, for many reasons.
3. If you had to axe your favourite TV show what would it be?
Ouch. Dan, are you thinking of getting a job at the BBC? Uh I hate myself for this, but my favourite program is Sherlock.
4. On a scale of not often to life support, how often are you on Tumblr?
Life support machine, I am deep into brain dead land and it's not likely that I will wake up at all.
5. Favourite Anime?
Always has been The Girl who leapt through time.
6. Favourite artist/band?
My Chemical Romance.
7. If you could listen to one song for the rest of your life what would it be and why?
I write sins, not tragedies. Because it's always helped me when I needed it.
8. How often do you play video games?
Daily if possible.
9. Nintendo or Sony?
Nintendo.
10. Tea or coffee?
Tea, all the way. But not Earl Grey. I hate Earl Grey.
My Questions:
1. What do you prefer: AUs or Cannon?
2. Do you read fanfiction?
3. What is the weirdest fanfiction you have ever read?
4. What is your biggest regret today?
5. Would you survive in your favourite show's world?
6. Do you drink water that has come from a house tap?
7. Do you play any instruments?
8. Favourite gaming platform?
9. Favourite book?
10. Avengers or Justice League?
Rule 1: Always post the rules
Rule 2: Answer the questions the person who tagged you asked and write 10 new ones
Rule 3: Tag 10 new people and link them to the post
Rule 4: Let them know you've tagged them
Tagged: sherlock-mania, branmuffinist, nynfadoratonks, so-maybe-i-am-a-little-strange, irreversiblysherlocked, themanticore42, sweatersandbowlegs, perksofawhovian, joshandstuff, and ocarinaoftwilight for tagging me :)
3. Worst pet peeve? People clicking their knuckles in my presence
4. Night or morning person? Haha morning person that’s funny. Night.
5. Trusting or weary? Trusting
6. Do you have pets? I have a fish
7. If you were stranded on a desert island and could only bring three things and one companion who/what are they? The companion would have to be my best friend. And the three things… laptop, some way to generate electricity and wifi. Fuck logic.
8. Fave video game? Um.
9. Fave book or movie? Hunger Games
10. Fave food? It’s like trying to choose between my babies.
11. Would you rather be thoughtless or heartless? Wow that’s deep…thoughtless.
Dark Room, a Johnlock smut fanfic for sherlock-mania
Under the break so you guys won't be distracted from the Oscars' blogging.
make john persuade sherlock to go to the cinema with him. sherlock would be all annoyed but john distracts him with his fingers… and such. you know. smut smut smut. please?
“I fail to see why this is a socially acceptable way of passing time. It’s pointless,” Sherlock complained for the third time in the evening. John ignored him as he took the tickets from the girl behind the glass, smiling at him pleasantly and a little too knowingly for his comfort. Were they really that obvious?
“It’s supposed to be very well written and challenging for the action-mystery movie amateur,” John countered, holding the door open for Sherlock, who was still crossing his arms like a stubborn child.
“That’s the thing, John. I’m not an amateur,” Sherlock retorted haughtily. John rolled his eyes, unaffected by the man’s sharp pride.
“You need something to do, Lestrade has all his cases under control, and Mrs. Hudson does not want you shooting at the wall anymore. This was the first thing that popped into my mind,” John replied in a tone that was gently begging for the detective to cut him some slack. Sherlock huffed a bit angrily but stopped his complaints. He had read reviews for the movie on the newspaper; someone had even recommended it to him on his website. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.
“It was the police officer. Not the short one, though. The one with the glasses,” Sherlock whispered to John twenty-five minutes into the movie. Someone to the left shushed him, but John figured the woman had heard no spoilers, for she seemed as engrossed in the movie as everybody else. Everybody else except Sherlock -who had already cracked the ending- and John, who was certain that Sherlock was right and had thus lost interest in the plot.
“Did you really have to do that?” John whispered back in annoyance, low enough that even he had trouble hearing himself. But Sherlock would hear him, of course. The man had ears like a lynx.
“Oh, please. It’s blatantly obvious. Just look at the way the…” Sherlock started, but John put a finger over the other man’s lips.
“I don’t want to know. I want to be at least a bit surprised,” he murmured. Sherlock let out an exasperated breath but nodded. John settled back into his seat to watch the movie. He could concentrate for all of five minutes.
“Oh, for God’s sake, will you stop that?” he muttered, placing a hand on Sherlock’s knee to stop it from bouncing.
“I can’t help it; I’m bored,” the tall man hissed back. “I already know what’s going to happen so what’s the point in watching the movie at all?”
“Then leave,” John suggested.
“And go where? And do what? Like you said, John, I need something to do.”
“Then… I don’t know… look for continuity mistakes or accidental boom mikes or cameramen reflections.”
“Dull…” Sherlock muttered. The same lady from before shushed them. John bit back a retort. Didn’t the lady know she was louder than them when she did that?
“Sherlock, really, you can solve murders in your sleep. Surely you can find a way to entertain yourself for forty minutes,” John said. Sherlock sighed heavily, but didn’t say anything else. He looked around the room, searching for something worth his interest.
John didn’t move when he felt Sherlock’s cold fingers on his hand. From the beginning of their relationship, the detective seemed to be fascinated with the doctor’s hands and took every opportunity to examine them. How the detective hadn’t run out of details to inspect, John had no idea.
John did react, almost loudly, at the place where his fingers ended up. In the bluish light from the screen, Sherlock’s pale lips looked like a trap made of ice, trapping one of John’s digits. The detective placed a soft, suckling kiss to John’s index fingertip. John had to bite his lip to prevent from gasping. Sherlock saw it, and he smirked, gently biting down on the finger.
John fired him a warning look, as if reminding Sherlock that they were in a silent room full of people. Sherlock lifted an eyebrow in challenge and bit just a little harder. John’s eyes tightened. The detective wanted to play this game? So be it.
John let his free hand wander to Sherlock’s thigh, and chuckled in satisfaction when the other’s breath caught. Then it was his turn to gasp as the other renewed his attentions on the doctor’s finger. Caresses against kisses, the two men challenged each other to a game of silence in the middle of the darkened room. Neither seemed to be getting the upper hand, but it was plain that both were slowly losing their inhibition.
A bold move of John’s palm directly over Sherlock’s groin made the detective release the doctor’s finger so he could throw his head back against the seat. John smiled wickedly; he loved it when he could make the cold, rational man react like this. He pressed down again, just enough to make the pressure tither on the line of pain and ecstasy. It was really lucky that the movie called for an explosion just then, because the moan that escaped the detective’s lips could’ve been considered illegal. John glanced at the screen; the thickest part of the plot was over, and all that was left was the three-hundred-thousand-dollars-worth of action and explosives and cars going up in flames. Good. This might get loud.
John’s hand fluttered over to Sherlock’s zipper, and he held it between two fingers, not moving. The detective looked down, biting his lower lip, trying to breathe steadily. Impatience glittered in his eyes, but there was no sign of boredom. His mind was completely occupied by this. John noticed. And John liked it. He slowly eased the zipper down, and with the same rhythm he undid the button on the detective’s trousers, which seemed to have gotten tighter. John looked up at Sherlock with a smirk. The tall man huffed in mild annoyance and leaned forward to press his lips against John’s. His message was clear: stop teasing and get to it.
The doctor was more than eager to comply. His other hand, which was still a little humid and cold from its brief trip to Sherlock’s mouth, found its way to the opening of the detective’s boxers. Tension grew in the pit of his stomach as he anticipated the contact, but seconds passed and there was none.
“John… please,” he begged in a murmur that was drowned out by an onscreen car chase. The need in Sherlock’s voice wiped away all thoughts of teasing from John’s mind. He slipped his hand into the opening, the other pinning the detective’s hips to the seat. Sherlock let out a shaky, half-choked groan at the feeling of John’s fingers on his body, pulling firmly but gently to get his shaft at least partly free from its clothing prison. He was almost fully hard, and John couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight. He usually loved giving Sherlock blowjobs; but not tonight. The doctor knew that the other man was very vocal when he reacted to that sort of ministrations. Right now, he needed to give Sherlock something that was entertaining but manageable.
John caressed the length of Sherlock’s manhood with butterfly-light touches. He guided himself through touch and hearing alone, like a blind man, for the room was now dark enough that he couldn’t see the other’s reactions. He allowed his thumb to spread the drop of moisture that had accumulated at the very tip, easing his movements a little. The added warmth and slickness made the detective bite his lip to suppress a moan. John quickened his pace a little, not sure of how long they had between the lights went on again and they were caught red-handed. Which was somewhat enticing, but he’d much rather avoid the public indecency charges, thank you very much.
“John,” Sherlock breathed in warning. He was close; he could feel it in every cell of his body. John quickly dipped down and took Sherlock into his mouth. The detective had to bite down on his knuckles to stop the rather loud exclamation that accompanied his orgasm. John diligently swallowed; he didn’t want to have to clean up the mess off the seat, or worse, have it fall on an innocent movie-goer. He remained in the same position for a few seconds, as the other man came down from the high, shuddering. John helped Sherlock tuck himself back into his pants and straightened out the fabric. No outsider could ever guess what had happened. John smirked to himself. He was getting good at this whole surreptitiousness business.
“I’ll admit that was entertaining,” Sherlock commented as they left the theatre some minutes later. “Although I still cannot understand why this movie got such good reviews. The ending was entirely nonsensical.”
John smiled a little. “That’s because you missed a clue.”
“What?”
“The murderer wasn’t… who you thought it was,” he said, lowering his voice for the benefit of those who were lined up outside for the next show.
“Then who...” Sherlock mused, trying to ransack his brain for the information which must surely be there. It was pointless. Every memory of the movie was clouded by the satisfactory haze of their lustful activities.
“Do you want me to tell you?” John asked, lifting an eyebrow. Sherlock glared at him as if the sole thought was offensive.
“Absolutely not! I must find out myself,” he stated, aiming for the end of the queue. “Even if it means watching everything again.”
“But I already know what’s going to happen. I’m going to be bored,” John complained half-heartedly. Sherlock glanced at him mischievously, and John responded with the same coy look. They both knew what they could do if either got bored.
I catch your eyes. I stare into your soul. I lay all my will into my facial expression and think: "you are beautiful. I want to explore your skin. All of You. Now. Come with me. I know a private place." [happy sexy valentine's day]
