#holmes observing and deducing is my fave holmes

[futureplayboibunnie]

sherlock x work rival reader. they're same on skills like sherlock has. and sherlock doesnt like it. on a case, they got partnered up, both of them hate it. at one point while gathering data/evidences, they got stuck on a closet/elevator, and things kinda heated up buttt they didnt go further bcs they were found/freed sooo later on that day, at night they continued it. 👀 🔥

basically a co worker rival, enemies to lovers, stuck on a closet trope one 😁

‘Sweetheart’

Sherlock Holmes x fem!reader

-DAMN. i lost the plot on this one BUT I LOVE THE IDEAAAAA <3 smutty enemies to lovers is my absolute fave, this is super long and should’ve definitely been a part 2 but fuck it we ball. enjoy u whores x

It was impossible. The slightest idea of someone attaining the same skill set as Sherlock made his eye twitch- but it wasn't an idea, it was a reality. You were impeding on everything he's ever known; the only person he knew that came close to his level of intelligence and observational deductions was Mycroft but he's hardly any threat to him, bonded by blood. You, however, were as pesky as you were threatening to his position and, to put it crudely, his ego.

Sherlock hated it, immensely. His blood burning cold at the mention and sight of your name. He cursed it relentlessly, no one could possibly be like him: he was one of a kind, a miracle of intelligence and a pioneer of human behaviour. It didn't seem like he was the only one. John seemed to mention you in passing only as a means to rile him up and lose his train of thought and confidence. He was always met with a defiant 'don't talk about her.' John had never seen him act like this before, almost as if he was threatened and scared; he was sure he wouldn't be able to live to see the day.

When you first walked into the room and presented yourself and called yourself a consulting detective, Sherlock laughed. When his eyes raked up to deduce everything and anything about your life, he was met with a hard and blank face- void of all emotion. Your face was almost lifeless, you weren't darting your eyes all around awkardly trying to figure out why Sherlock was laughing at...you stared directly at him with death defined and thinned eyes, absolutely not in the mood for games. You cocked and tilted your head whilst you stared him down blankly and he immediately caught that you weren't like anything he's experienced. You were extremely emotionally distant and didn't squander your time with games, your mouth was a hard line and you gave him a quick look of slight distaste. You didn't even ask who he was, you just ushered Lestrade to ‘’get "'him"' out of here.’’ The great Sherlock Holmes belittled down just to a 'him?' Did you not know who he was? The power his name held? He'd never experienced this type of treatment before and it made a slight shiver course through him.

You were now both here on another case, obviously not satiated with the amount of murder and death both sets of eyes see daily, an addict need of a daily fix. Lestrade had another one and surprisingly he needed both of you on it. Sherlock was despairing at the idea of both of you being partnered up, the woman he loathes, the woman he hates. It was his worst nightmare and now it was becoming a reality. Sherlock didn't have John with him either. He wanted to gather enough of you to catch you out with an overdue deduction and prove to everyone else you were nothing like him. That he would always remain superior.

‘’Why the hell is he here?’’ Your face could barely contain your annoyance at Lastrade, you were sure every bone in your body was turning brittle, the bones crunching by grinding your jaw. The dead body that you were all fawning over providing an insight into the case ahead.

‘’Get her out of here, I'll be able to get this finished by the end of the day without her pathetic ramblings.’’ Sherlock waved at you to shoo, completely undermining your competence.

‘’I'll be able to finish it in half the time.’’ You inched forward and scrutinised him through challenging eyes.

‘’Shut up, the both of you. I need your brains for this and I need you to work together, if not another person will end up like this and I doubt you'll want that kind of blood on your hands.’’ Lestrade finally struck the air as a means to shut you up.

‘’Brief me.’’ You said deapan.

‘’Female, 23, blunt force trauma to the head. It's likely that the same person that killed her killed the other four women we found earlier this month. she was about to wed but her engagement ring was-‘’

‘’Stolen!’’ You and Sherlock blurted at the same time, so sure of it all, incredible minds melding into one. His face darted to the side to register both of your reactions but you weren't as startled as he was.

‘’Time span is thinning. It's obvious he can't keep to his strict schedule of a kill every week...ohhh he's getting impatient he's getting sloppy and disorganised. Always have to wait for them to make a mistake, he took the ring and cut a good chunk of her hair off and stole the ring, he's motivated by rage and sexual drive now. The murder isn't just doing it for him anymore and oooooh that was his big mistake I’ll be able to find the guy in about 2 hours.’’' You hadn't even heard of the case before and you didn't even need to fully inspect the body, only briefed by a few sentences and you already knew what he was doing next. Your smirk and brightened face only told stories of certain and unwavering success.

Sherlock was about to deduce the exact same thing but his face was frozen and his mouth forgot how to speak, he couldn't get a word in edgeways. Lastrade just gave you a funny look and Sherlock's eyes held a noticeable fear. He had never felt threatened in his life before but he shook the thought out of his head and his obnoxious hubris rose once again.

‘’Trophies.’’ Sherlock said way too casually as he walked out of the room of where the body was laying, you and Lestrade on his coat tails like always.

‘’Collecting trophies as a way for compensating for his erectile dysfunction and 2 hours..? Let go of yourself sweetheart, I'd be the one to tell you that you're spreading yourself thin but I think you know that already.’’

‘’Call me sweetheart and I think I'll start my own trophy collection.’’ You pulled him back to stop him in his tracks and look in his stupidly smug face while you were promising on your threat.

‘’I'd like to see you try and fail.’’ Sherlock was inching closer to your face as a means to intimidate you but it wasn't working, he was just met with this challenging mutual stare, unwavering, faces filled with contempt like two arguing children.

‘’Stop bickering...and get this sorted. Now.’’ Lestrade rolled his eyes and parted ways with both of you, on his way to check in on the actual detectives on the case and not two amateur genuises he so graciously let in on these cases.

You and Sherlock began walking out of the house to catch a taxi and the disdain and cold attitudes were radiating off of the both of you. It's not that he hated the idea of a partner, John was a fine example of that, he just hated that someone else in the world other than his bloodline was able to read people like he can. Though he was physically unable to admit it, it was also because you were a woman. The scent of your hair when you put it up, the quirk of your eyebrows when you were focused in on something and drowning the rest of the world out. He couldn't read you. It was just a drawn out question mark.

‘’Don't need 2 hours to figure out that the suspect is white, mid 40s and lives in a suburbian eutopia, divorced, rarely sees his kids but lives in a house big enough to fill the extended family he doesn't have.’’ You thumbed the taxi down and both of you clambered in on the back.

‘’A fairly obvious conclusion. How'd you get to it?’’ He said with clear sarcasm watering his words.

‘’It's always the middle aged white guy people have to be afraid of. Bundy, Son of Sam. ...Anyone with a brain stem knows that.’’

‘’Not because you've been indoctrinated by true crime documentaries and podcasts from a young age?’’ Sherlock deduced and your eyes darted to his in surefire surprise, you weren't sure how he knew that. You took your time displacing all of your personal matters, it was a skill no one can have: being able to see through you. You tried to feign your nervousness and ignore what he just said. It could of been a bias guess into how you got into this field of work. No big deal.

‘’Highgate. He lives in Highgate.’’ Sherlock stated simply as if the answer was clear all along; you couldn't see it however and your face was of utter confusion when you stared at his smug smirk. ‘’Driver take us to Highgate please.’’ He said to the taxi driver and the car started moving.

‘’How could you possibly know that?’’ You sounded more surprised than you ought to; it was difficult to deny that he was incredibly talented, he was the only one that can see and think the way you can. Sherlock had the ability to breeze through the things that everyone thought was impossible like you could. You admired that, but he made it his mission to thrive through revalry. Granted you never liked him in the first place but you hated him even more for making everything a competition for the sake of hatred. The boiling blood between you was heating up once more.

‘’See I'm right, you're just like them. It's obvious, isn't it? The thin layer of mud on the floor next to the body is tinged yellow, something native to Highgate and only Highgate. clear as day.’’ Sherlock was obnoxious in tone, belittling you through subtext and quite literally.

‘’Hm.’’ You huffed and by that he took that you were impressed, he smiled out of the window before an idea pinged in his head whilst looking at the hotel in his peripheral.

Hotel. His eyes creased at the thought as if he was thinking. The small fragments of information coursing through his mind to spell out: Hotel.

The next murder is going to be in a hotel. He's taunting the police. He's murdering near every crime scene he leaves.

‘’Stop the car!’’ He yelled at the driver and you were pulled out of your daze, mind rattled with the obvious but still unexpected shift in character. The taxi stopped to a halt, the breaks searing hot as the vehicle was outside the hotel.

‘’What?! What is it!?’’ You yelled after Sherlock as he stumbled out of the taxi, his movements sharp and rigid.

‘’Hotel!’’

‘’Sherlock! You fucking idiot, wait!’’ You hurridely pulled out a few bills and shoved it in the drivers face before ultimately following him in his tracks and shutting the car door.

His mind was racing, he didn't have time to catch up with you and your frail movements. A muder was going to happen at some point here in this hotel and he was going to be the one to find him and catch him in the act. You were both in the cool, marbled lobby with the obvious fake and overdone gold finery. Sherlock was rushing to the elavator and you hated that you felt inclined to follow him and his absurd ideas, you hated him but you respected his leads. You were't completely warped and cut off from amicable society like he was.

‘’Elevator.’’ Sherlock punched the arrow up on the steely metal elevator. It was a janky thing, shaking as it arrived down and pinged at where you both where. It finally came to you in a flash through your foggy mind, Hotel. The killer was getting cocky, he's killing near the crime scenes as a display of power. Your eyes widened as you both got in, giddy on the fact you were going to catch this guy in the act. only you and Sherlock would be dizzy with glee over something as morbid as this.

"21. Floor 21.’’ You got to the number quicker than Sherlock did, his mouth quirked slightly as you crossed over his body to get to the pad and the way you finally caught on, he didn't even get to the idea of which floor he could be on. He could feel the scent of you, it was palpable. You smelt sweet, not too sugary not too clean. Just a natural sort of musk he couldn't seem to define which brand it was from.

You both looked straight ahead to the bleakness of metal infront of you as the elevator was lifting you up like a cloud in air. No need to talk when your thoughts were enough chatter in your heads. The jolt of the elevator dragged you out of your head, the sudden clang and whirr making everything around you seem less secure. Until it fully stopped.

‘’Shit.’’You blasphemed as you went over to the pad and pressed the button that made you talk to reception or control. All you heard was radio silence, the buzzing of it just intense static. ‘’Hello? Can you hear us? We're stuck.’’

You attempted to convey something but you were met with no one. House with the lights on and no one home.

‘’Hello? Get your silly little heads out of your arseholes and-‘’ Sherlock was already starting with people who weren't even there and you had to cut him off before he was about to go on a tangent with an imaginary ghost.

‘’Call Lestrade. Let him make the arrest.’’ You turned to face Sherlock, eyes exhausted and tired but obviously not surprised you would end up in an small enclosed area with him of all people. God, as if this day couldn't get any worse, you were sure you were experiencing your worst nightmare. You were met with Sherlock's aghast expression, as if someone had taken his favourite toy away.

‘’What? No! I'm catching this idiot, I found him, I'm going to see the life leave his eyes when I find him.’’

‘’A woman's life is on the line here, can you just stuff down your obnoxious hubris for one second and think about someone else for a split second of your life? Call Lestrade and tell him we're here.’’ Your face was that of sorrowful pity, all of this intelligence you harboured didn't wash away your compassion or your humanity like Sherlock did. He was jarred at your emotional ties with a woman you never even met, your eyes wer wild in fear and it was difficult seeing you lose yourself like this, he'd never seen you not calm and collected before.

With a huff, he grabbed his phone and called the number and told him everything and within a few minutes the telltale sound of sirens blared through your ears. You let out a sigh of relief when you heard the clamouring. Moments later, Sherlock answered his ringing phone and Lastrade's voice fell through.

‘’We've got him. You were right. We'll get you out of that elevator as soon as we can.’’

Your mind calmed when Sherlock hung up, now you had to fill up this awkward silence that was clouding between you both. It was swinging in the air and it was intensely tangable, your shoulder blades tensed when you crossed your arms. He always wore that cologne and you were unsure why that was the only thing you were thinking of right now. You were both leaning against the walls, so cold in your expressions; small breaths of impatience breaking through the silence.

When you weren't looking, Sherlock took this as an opportunity to scan you properly and not just through stolen glances. He needed to analyse you in a way that was different from the normal human because if you were like him you weren't in the band and social norm that is considered 'normal. Your skirt was vintage. Shirt and blazer firmly pressed. You valued simplicity, chicness but with a indivuality inspired twist with the vintage skirt. Your legs were bare but he could see the sheen of your stockings and thigh highs, you liked a little attention. Your heels were high, but it wasn't for show- you could actually walk in them for hours without your feet hurting. No ring. Unmarried? When his eyes raked up to your face, the dim elevator light shone onto your features; it made your eyes gleam and your lips plumpen- you were chewing on it now impatiently. It wasn't a nervous habit, you were bored. You had a sweet face that was blushing now, he wasn't sure why. It would be a lie to say you werent attractive and he was too tired to lie about it. It felt like the walls were closing in every second he was near you. The scent of you was becoming more potent.

You on the other hand didn't even need to look at him. You hated him. You hated him in every way, but what made you so drawn to him? You were never one for following anyone else but when Sherlock stumbled out of the taxi you found your feet following him and indenting every step he took, you trusted his opinion and you were awaiting his long overdue deduction of you- if anything you were looking forward to it. Sherlock was hot. He really was, physically. You once imagined what it would feel like to rub your fingers through his soft curls but you made the thought scarce, his eyes were a stark powder blue but his lips were sharply shaped but looked soft- you wondered what it would feel like to kiss it. He was a walking paradox that you wanted to unfurl. He couldn't hide behind the suits, the scarves and the coats any longer.

‘’What's taking them so long?’’You groaned into your palms before running your fingers through your hair.

‘’You can handle immense amounts of pressure but you can't deal with the slightest bit of boredom?’’ He questioned pompously.

‘’And you can? At least I don't shoot holes in walls at every given opportunity.’’ You weren't in the mood to play games and he was pushing you to the edge, you were too frustrated to even consider it. The claustraphobia was finally beginning to settle in.

‘’It's all relative.’’ Sherlock was obviously pleased with himself that he got you all snarky. He was still working the profile of you in his mind, with every moment he stared at you the pieces of you were flitting together. He was sure he got some sort of answer by the end of it to finally look you in the eye and tell you your own secrets. He smirked at the thought.

Silence settled through the air and it was even more awkward than before, so you thought it was best to rip the bandaid off now.

‘’So, are you finally going to deduce me and all of my dirty secrets?’’ You breathed, eyes slightly squinted in teasing defense.

‘’They can't handle it.’’ His fingers went to his temple to rub slightly before travelling down to his lips.

‘’What?’’

‘’They can't handle it. I feel as though you place your entire worth in your relationships and not your vast amount of intelligence. Relationships aren't a mystery to you, men are attracted to you, so obviously enthralled by your intelligence and aesthetically pleasing features but I'm sorry to say they look at your body first. The men that dare to play with you want your body more than anything else and after they have their way with you, they hate the way that you're more intelligent than they are. You clearly were never happy with any of the sex either, you've always been so tense since I've known you. Even I know what happens when a woman is faced with constant disappointment in the bedroom. The men can't handle that kind of emotional dominance in their lives. They simply can't.’’

Your eyes slowly started to widen with every word he uttered, he was way too casual in his words and the way his fingers were sliding over your lips was making your insides tighten. You haven't told anyone about anything with your experience with men, let alone the fact that you haven't came in so long. Embarrassment coursed through your shoulder blades at the sentiment but you felt something even more potent travel through you...the way Sherlock looked at you, the way his eyes darkened under the dim lamp light of the elevator. You weren't sure of the thoughts flying through his head. You inched closer to him, the space between you closing slightly.

‘’Am I wrong?’’ He raised an eyebrow, his voice husky and low.

‘’Never said you were wrong.’’ You said immediately, impassive in your emotions and tone as you crossed your arms.

‘’Have your go at me then.’’ His eyes involuntarily flitted to your lips.

‘’You did what they asked you to...not what you wanted. You're frustrated but you'd never admit it. You've seen naked women but not in a long time and when you did you weren't letting loose, maybe you're scared you think you won't be able to get it up but no...you're scared that you'll be contained in a box in bed. You want to experiment with something new. You want more. You've wanted more for a while now. God, if you saw a naked woman right now, you'd probably have to put your dick in a wheelbarrow.’’

Sherlock felt his heart skip a beat. He didn't like the specitivity of it, he felt like you saw through him with your vulgar words and his eyes were darkening. It was a lazy and fairly obvious deduction that he so clearly had a blind spot towards. With every word, you felt your feet inching closer and closer to him. Your faces weren't too far apart from each other and a small smile tugged on his lips.

‘’Was I good?’’ You stared down at his lips, mindlessly flirting with him as you chewed on your own. Sherlock readjusted his jaw before gawking down on you. The woman he hates...asking for his accolades. Damn. Before he could respond, the elevator jolted and was whirring up again.

Within a split second, the elevator doors opened and you were greeted with Lestrades exhausted face.

‘’Dear God, finally.’’ You huffed before ultimately clacking out and away onto the marble.

Sherlock stared at the sway of your hips and the pleasing view of your back profile, more importantly your ass. Jesus. He felt like a teenager the way his cock twitched in his pants at the sight of your stockings peeking through. He was just stood there frozen, watching you walk away from him...so confident. So sure. This was surely a night he would be set not to forget any time soon.

—-

You were about to get ready for bed. Undressing of your skirt, tights and blazer but when you were about to unbutton your suit shirt off there was a knock at your door. It was 11 at night, who could possibly be wanting to see you at this hour? You looked through the keyhole of your apartment door and you were shellshocked to see Sherlock at your door.

You were externally angry but internally panicking, you were half naked and he was at your door. You unlocked it and creaked it open slightly.

‘’What the fuck are you doing here Sherlock?’’ Your voice was drenched in fatigue, too consumed by the confusioning emotions and events of today.

‘’Open the door.’’ He demanded authoritatively, not in the mood for any games.

‘’Why would I do that?’’You retaliated but with that Sherlock but a large hand to the door and pushed it open- you weren't fighting back to close it. It only confirmed everything you felt.

‘’I said. Open. The door.’’ He let himself in and locked it back when he entered your sacred space.

‘’What do you want?’’ You questioned briskly, a cute little pep in your voice. He took his scarf and coat off and unbuttoned his blazer.

‘’You.’’He stated lowly as if he hasn't been sure of anything else in his entire life. Your body was malfunctioning, you were frozen by the heaviness of his words. The legendary Sherlock Holmes wanted you? You were sure you were locked in a daze, your mind crowded and foggy with this admission of honesty, but you felt as if this was a test or experiment of sorts.

‘’That's funny, tell another one.’’ You chuckled lowly, thinking it was his sick form of a twisted joke. You were about to move away before he caught onto your wrist and tugged you into him, you were against his chest and you felt yours cave.

You looked up at him, eyes bewildered and unsure of what his next move was. The rest of your face was hard, you weren't going to show him that he affected you like this; he was an asshole, hell bent on destroying and disillusioning everyone, that wasn't the type of person you liked but God... Sherlock was something entirely different yet similar to you. You liked having someone to banter with, the constant back of forth of insults and playful remarks. It was agitating and impossible but also incredibly fun. He said that men can't handle you, but he's not like other men.. is he.

You were sure he could handle you and you were filling to let him fall free reign over you.

‘’Listen to me. I want you…I want to see you naked. I want to feel every inch of your body when I make you feel everything that they couldn't. I don’t even need to ask because you’ve been giving me fuck me eyes all day, face flushed, thinking of the dirty things you’d rather have unseen, but considering our history... do you want that from me?’’ His breath was shaky and heavy and you were about to melt at any moment, your voice hitched in your throat.

‘’You teasing me?’’ You gave him a crooked half smile.

‘’No. If I could punish you I would.’’

‘’Who says you cant?’’

Sherlock was about to lose his mind, he was desperate and didn't have a clear head; any other time he might have been more graceful with his movements but you got him so madly insane he was willing to lash out.

He tugged you back into your bedroom and you let out a little yelp when he dragged you along, it's like the man had a spidey sense of your bedroom when he'd never been in your apartment before. His ego inflated with every breath you took, eyes alight when he kicked your door shut. When he turned back to face you, your lips were immediately on his, he found it adorable that you tiptoed just to reach him. You were right: his lips were soft, delicatessant and you opened up your mouth just to taste at him. sherlock spared no time in shrugging his blazer off but your fingers were patient, you ripped your lips away from his to look him intensely in his eyes whilst you unbuttoned his shirt one by one. He was revelling in your tease but he wanted you now. It was clear the way his hands immediately ripped open your shirt, the buttons flying everywhere. Your tongue tangled with his and you immediately discarded of his shirt, fingernails digging into his shoulder when he finally threw you on your bed.

‘’Not so posh now are you?’’ You flirted bashfully, absolutely adoring this change of pace he provided.

‘’Not so smart when I fuck you so hard you'll forget your own name.'’’ He gritted as he flipped you on your front so you were on all fours, in this position he could easily snap your bra off and rip your underwear off. And he did...fast. He was itching to get his hands on you.

‘’Sherlock. ..please.’’ You whined for his fingers on you.

You stifled a moan when you felt his lips kiss at your shoulder blade, travelling down to savour the taste of your skin; he can't believe he had you naked under him and you looked as beautiful as ever. You shivered when he bit down hard, he left a multitude of blossoming purple bites on your skin. You felt yourself grow impatient and you made it clear by your whines.

‘’Stay. Still.’’ He demanded and you tried your best to oblige but you couldn't.

‘’Fuck you! I ca-can't.’’ You tried your best not to scream but he was going far too slow for your pleasure.

‘’I said. Stay. Still.’’ A palm landed on your backside and he pushed your torso further down on the bed, no longer perching yourself on your own hands. He left another hard slap on your ass, slowly turning warm and pink under his coarse palms.

‘’Fuck!’’ You moaned, still shaking under him.

‘’I'll reward you if you stay still.’’ His voice was low and husky and it was making you so damn wet. You actually tried to stop shaking under him for that delicious reward you so relentlessly craved; you forced yourself to stop shaking.

‘’Good girl. Well done sweetheart.’’ Sherlock brightened at the pet name he gave you, he knew you hated it but in this context your moan proved otherwise. As a reward he bit one of your cheeks, leaving an indent in there as a means to claim you and mark you up as his. He smoothed the bite with a tender kiss and you found yourself blushing. ‘’My sweetheart. Not so mean now are you?’’ He mocked.

‘’Please just..inside Sherlock…I need to feel you. I'm begging you.’’ You tried your hand at begging and the amicable scoff he let out made you believe he was delighted by it. You? Begging? He never would have heard that in a million years. He gave you another cheeky spank before unzipping and tugging his pants and boxers down. You were right, he absolutely did need to put his dick in a wheelbarrow, he was so hard it hurt.

He grabbed your hair and tugged you by it when he slowly and torturously slid himself inside of you. He was so big, he was stretching you out unfathomably wide and you clung onto him tight. God he felt so good and him pulling on your hair exasterbated the fact tenfold. He rutted himself inside of you and you jolted up the bed, your moans bouncing off every wall and his low grunts panting in your ear when he bent down to kiss your neck. You couldn't string a single sentence together he was making you lose any sentient composure you thought you once had.

‘’Not so innocent are you sweetheart?'’

You couldn't answer him, not when you were completely spiralling and he was the cause of it. His cock ramming in and out of you at the brutal pace he so mercilessly set, you were so wet for him and you hated it. The man you hated for so long is fucking you in your own bed.

You never thought you'd live to see the day.

You were nearing the edge and he was losing himself in you, when he took your hands and held them in a tight iron like grip behind the small of your back you weren't sure if you could cry or scream in pleasure. You were on the brink and you weren't sure when you were coming back. He drew out a prolonged moan when you came onto him, that white wash of euphoria clouding your peripheral as you let your body go limp under him. The sound of your sweet wet moans made Sherlock spiral and he emptied himself in you, he let out a gutteral groan as he watched the sweat travel down your back. He stilled before rolling off of you and plating himself on the pillow beside you,

Your face stayed buried in the pillow for a little before you ultimately looked up and made yourself face the ceiling. You were both panting like lunatics, his curls were stickinf to his forhead and his brow gleaming from sweat. silence hung in the air for a while.

‘’C'mere.’’ He finally said with a sly smile, throwing his head back as an indicator.

You let yourself melt into him, you head on his chest as he embraced you with his big arms, tracing small shapes on your arms as you slung your leg around him.

‘’The elevator break on your way up here?'’’

———

i got so carried away but i love it sm 🫶

[inevitably-johnlocked]

So I came across an old livejournal fic I'd forgotten about and loved (silver sixpece by doodle) and was wondering if you'd seen or knew any other non ao3 fic that's amazing and just been forgotten in fandom moves? Thanks!!

Hi Lovely!!

Ah, okay so I don’t usually read any fics on Livejournal because it’s a frustrating medium to read it on – I literally have only read that one fic and only because it was labelled “for a case” LOL – so yeah, the majority of fics I’ve read before Ao3 were on FFNet :P AND I bookmarked over…200 or so Sherlock fics on FFNet, so I can’t list ALL of them here, LOL, so how about I give you a list of my favourite fics from FFNet, plus that LJ one because I do love that fic too :)

Now, I KNOW some of these are on Ao3, but they STARTED at another site and it was where I FIRST found them, so you can check to see if any of these are on Ao3 if you want to bookmark them on your Ao3 account :) 

Regardless, these should not be missed just because they’re not on Ao3! Check them out!

TOP 25 FAVE NON-Ao3 FICS

See also: Alexx’s List of Fics Not on Ao3

His by I'm Nova (T, 1,042 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulation, Possessive Sherlock) – Sherlock doesn't share what he's fond of.

Back in the Saddle by grannysknitting (M, 1,577 w., 1 Ch. || Post TGG AU, Donovan POV, Observation / Introspection, Protective Sherlock, Injured John, Case-ish Fic) – Their first return to solving crime after the pool and the explosion.

206 Reasons by whitchry9 (K+, 1,693 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Pre-Slash, Light Angst, Worried Sherlock) – John won't wake up, so Sherlock lists all the reasons why he should. Because he appears to be a bit besotted. How inconvenient.

3:00 in the Morning is a Great Time to Talk by Aztecwarfareandcrumping (K+, 1,775 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Bed Sharing, First Person POV John, Cuddling, Worried Sherlock, Comforting John, Platonic Affection/Love) – "Are you trying to talk your way into my bed?" "Obviously."

Take My Hand, Knot Your Fingers Through Mine by patster223 (K+, 2,003 w., 1 Ch. || H/C & Friendship, Whump) - "I know this is an inconvenience for you, but I would really rather you were awake right now, John." John is unconscious, and Sherlock decides to talk to him anyway. Sherlock/John pre-slash.

Loving John Watson by Spark_Writer (T, 2,036 w., 1 Ch. || Canon Compliant, Angst, Falling in Love, Second Person POV) – You discover early on that you want him. Maybe even the very day you meet.

Ten Hours by morningdawn202 (T, 2,242 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Friendship, Worried Sherlock) - It’s been ten hours since Sherlock saw John last. If you can get past a few of the inconsistencies (like John having a cane) then it’s pretty good.

Just Admit It by LoyalNerdWP (T, 2,512 w. || Christmas, Fluff, Family, Romance, Pining Sherlock) – Sherlock goes to his family’s place for Christmas without John, and Mycroft makes an interesting observation that Sherlock missed.

Nothing Left Untouched by ForeverShippingJohnlock (K+, 2,617 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Romance, Bed Sharing, Oblivious Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Grumpy John, Fluff and Cuddles) – Sherlock rearranges the flat. So what if John's bedroom is now a research library. It's not like John needs a bedroom, he can share with Sherlock. They're friends and John has obviously slept in close quarters with men before and it's not like Sherlock sleeps much anyway. It'll be fine.

Museums and Laboratories by RhododendronPonticum (T, 3,004 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Angst, Obsessive Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, Anxiety/Panic Attack, Separation Anxiety, Doctor John, Co-Dependent Sherlock) – If Sherlock's kitchen was his laboratory, then his bedroom was his museum.

Reversed by whitchry9 (K+, 3,072 w., 6 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Medical Anomolies, John Gets Shot) – The man pointed his gun at John's chest, right at his heart, and shot.' Wherein John is shot, and Sherlock is the one panicking.

On Hiatus: Rotterdam by rukushaka (T, 4,240 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Drama, Couple For A Case, Post-TRF, John Joins Sherlock, No Slash) – “Used them after uni a bit. Purely for research purposes, of course," Sherlock said tiredly, head lolling against John's shoulder." Sherlock goes on a mission alone, or: Two blokes in a luxury hotel in the Netherlands. Non-linear timeline. Set during the Hiatus.

Very Good Indeed by StillWaters1 (T, 4,531 w, 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Doctor John, John Whump) – John Watson was a doctor, trained to observe details; a fact Sherlock had never been more aware of than when a drugged John’s lifesaving instructions were based on an unlabeled syringe and an unconscious murder suspect’s body.

Goodbye, John by XxMildredxX (T, 7,154 w., 1 Ch.  || MCD, Angst, Self Reflection, Saying Goodbye, Holidays,, Scared Sherlock, Bittersweet Ending) – John finds it very difficult to tell Sherlock of his diagnosis, but it seems Sherlock has deduced it himself. As John says goodbye, he and Sherlock struggle with the feelings that this brings on them, and how Sherlock will go on when John has gone.

A Kiss and a Cuddle Should be Sufficient by Evenlodes Friend (M, 7,515 w., 3 Ch. || Romance, Adventure, Voyeurism, Sex Club, Case Fic, Kinks, Gang Bang, Blow Jobs, Group Sex) – To catch their killer, John and Sherlock go to a sex club. Kinky things happen and they talk about it.

Alone On the Water by Mad_Lori (G, 7,725 w., 1 Ch. || MCD, UST/URT, Angst, Euthanasia, Love Confessions) – Sherlock Holmes never expected to live a long life, but he never imagined that it would end like this.

Catastrophe Medicine by LaSuen (T, 11,550 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt / Comfort, Suspense, Adventure, Whump, Hard Core Bromance) – Chasing after a pyromaniac bomber Sherlock and John wind up in a deserted building which explodes and leaves them trapped under the rubble, both severely injured.

The Hand You're Dealt by Lady Sam Mallory (T, 12,092 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Light Violence, BAMF John, Doctor John, Injury, Friendship) – Sherlock, John and several others are trapped in a building when an explosion disrupts the crime scene they are working.

Fear Itself by KCS (K+, 12,289 w., 3 Ch. || Suspense, Friendship) – John is accustomed to being kidnapped by now, but he never expected a criminal to adopt Mycroft's method of doing so, to ensure he comes along without a fight.

A Silver Sixpence by _doodle (NC-17, 16,400 w., 2 Ch. || LJ Fic || For a Case / Case Fic, Fake Relationship, Humour, Romance, Marriage Proposal, Awkward Idiots, Cuddling, Touching, Kissing, Love Confessions, Bed Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fake Until It’s Not, Schmoop and Fluff, Bottomlock) – “John, we need to get married. It’s for a case, not any romantic notions on my part pertaining to our partnership,” Sherlock said, with brutal honesty, and without even looking up.

Checkmate to a Castled King by LaSuen (T, 18,290 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt / Comfort, Sick Sherlock, Rev. Reich.) - John dies. Or at least everyone thinks he does.

Sympathy for the Devil and Mycroft Holmes by scifigrl47 (T, 18,535 w., 2 Ch. || Family, Canon-Compliant, Meddling Mycroft, Big Brother Mycroft) – Mycroft has always protected his younger brother, but there are some things he just can't control. Sherlock's relationship with John Watson is one of them. Set during the first two seasons of Sherlock.

Invisible by chappysmom (K+, 25,947 w., 11 Ch. || No Slash, semi-canon compliant) – John had had the knack for as long as he could remember. It wasn’t that he could become invisible, exactly. The laws of physics worked quite well in his vicinity, thank you very much. It was just that people tended … not to see him. {{This was one of the first AU’s I read, and I still love it to this day}}. SEQUELS: Still Invisible (ASiB) || Too Visible (THoB) || Invisible Once More (TRF)

And A Doctor by StillWaters1 (T, 27,393 w., 6 Ch. || Friendship, Doctor John, Whump, Soldier / Doctor Dichotomy, Five and One) – It was only when people actually saw John working as a physician that they began to understand: that it wasn't just about bullets and IEDs and trauma care under fire. That "doctor" actually covered a pretty wide field. And that John was bloody good at covering ground. 5 times Dr. Watson treated others and 1 time he treated himself.

A Week is Just Seven Days Isn't It? by scifigrl47 (T, 39,906 w., 4 Ch. || Humour, Friendship/Bromance, Stroppy/Bored Sherlock, Undercover/Army John, Texting, Pining-ish Sherlock, John Whump) – When John heads overseas for a week, Sherlock's forced to fend for himself. It goes about as well as anyone could have anticipated. Which is to say, very, very poorly. Don't worry, things'll be fine in just seven days.