Sherlock Fic Recs
want to see some more? oh god yes
Sherlock has eaten my brain. I will no doubt be adding to this list.

Canon!Fic:The Seventeenth Step by katieforsythe
‎"The sun creeps through the galaxy, and the earth goes round the sun,
I go round John Watson in circles, and that is the thrice-cursed
natural order
of Life. I shall write up a monograph on the subject for you,
if you
like. Get away from me, for mercy's sake."

Holmes/Watson being ridiculously in love with each other. Various ratings. Always amazing. The writing is devastatingly perfect. Warning: your computer may burst into flames from the steaming angst. ****

Sherlock Comic <3 by sadynax *

#3patchproblem by ardenteurophile
(written for a prompt over at sherlockbbc_fic)
Sherlock KAraOKE!!!
About 12 hours ago

Sherlock tries out twitter. This is absolutely hilarious. Kills me every time. Crack.

Against the Window by verizonhorizon
Sherlock kissed his shoulder, right on the spot where John had been wounded on one of their crime-solving sprees. So good--so good--so good--s'good--
Voyeurism ficlet. UNF. So much. Slash

Autopsis by spikeface *
John is looking just at him, eyes wide and pupils dilated like he's high, like he needs to see more of what he's seeing. John's breath is very warm, sour milk and tea, and his heart is going at least one hundred eighty five beats per minute. He doesn't try to move away.
Fucking intense. I can't even... GUH! Amazing hot horrific slash.

A Certain Sense of Belonging by burnmybridges
He felt Sherlock still underneath him and jerked away instantly, about to babble an apology when his eyes locked with Sherlock's and there was something there that made his breath catch and his heartbeat stutter.
Four times John inexplicably found himself in Sherlock's bed and one time he knew exactly why. Wonderfully slow build. Slash.

Choices by shehasareason
His face was inches from Sherlock’s, their breath mingling in the chlorine tainted air, Sherlock’s fingers were gripping his elbow and his horrified expression had been replaced by one of bemusement. John could feel the sickening sensation in the pit of his stomach rise up into his throat and it had nothing to do with the ugly block of orange putty fifteen feet away. Probable death suddenly seemed unimportant besides the momentous realization that he may have just let on exactly how much this mad, contradictory, beautiful sociopath meant to him.
Extended scene from The Great Game. H/C. Slash.

Dating by lc2l
(written for a prompt over at sherlockbbc_fic)
Sherlock is quite possibly the smartest man in London and it is galling that is takes him several moments to realise what is going on here. "Of course they were dates. We like each other, we went out, we had fun."
Adorable and fits in so perfectly with canon. Pre-slash.

Experiment #274 by [Bad username: franticsga ]
He was used to Sherlock's steady, thoughtful gaze on him whilst puzzles clicked into place behind his eyes, and he'd also got used to becoming hard at inconvenient, strange Holmesian moments, but it was always different when...well, everything was always different when it came to Sherlock.
Sherlock scientifically experiements John into having sex with him. Absolute porny perfection. SLASH.

Extraordinary by ardenteurophile
John, I don’t understand, you type out, I am losing all rationality.
Sherlock's POV. Perfect, perfect, perfect. Confused!Sherlock fluff. Pre-slash.

First Time For Everything / First Time For Everything.1 (B Side) by calicokat
"What's wrong?"
"I apologize, John. I seem to have ejaculated."
John looks exasperated. Cocaine never looks exasperated, either, Sherlock thinks. Neither does masturbation.

Beautiful and hot. Slash.

Five Times John Tackled Sherlock (For His Own Good) And One Time Sherlock Tackled John by zannabq
“Maybe I should come back later,” Mycroft announced after a moment of smilingly examining John and Sherlock lying on top of each other on the floor, amusement clearly audible in his voice. “When I’m not... interrupting anything.”
Some cute & amusing situations featuring Baker Street's finest. Pre-Slash.

For Science by 67
“Scars fascinate me, you know,” he said conversationally. “Close your eyes.”
John eyed Sherlock warily. He was still mostly wet, and his hair was occasionally releasing fat drops of cold water to trickle down his back, and instead of getting dressed and dry, he was stuck, half-naked and being examined by a consulting detective
So damn cute. Pre-slash.

Getting the Message,
Ch. 1/2: Exchanges by loveslashangst
Despite half a dozen highly-trained security, the latest alarm system, and the vigilance of his staff, Sherlock appears not three minutes later in the chair opposite Mycroft’s desk. His younger brother looks quietly furious and a bit defensive, glaring at him from beneath that unkempt mop he considers hair.
“I suppose it’d be pointless to tell you to go out and make an appointment with Anthea like a proper human being?” Mycroft says.
“Why does John stay?” Sherlock demands.

Well-meaning but misguided attempts at matchmaking, via text-messaging. Hideously fantastic. Pre-slash.

Height, or Lack Thereof by flying_android
John laughs when Sherlock walks into the kitchen one morning and announces, “I love that you’re so small.”

“Well, thanks for that,” he says, shutting the fridge door. He turns to look at Sherlock then and asks, a little suspiciously, “Why?”

Sherlock shrugs and leans against the wall. “We fit.”
This is adorable. Slash Lite.

Inflagrante by ingridmatthews
"Yeah. Whatever," Lestrade says. He puts his hands in his pockets and glances around. Seems just as messy as before, with a few extra boxes piled up for good measure. Ah, the good doctor must have moved in, poor soul.
Now there's a man who has no idea what he's in for.
He watches without interest as the others go about their work. He stifles the urge to rifle through Holmes' files -- there's probably a wealth of insanity in every box. Something in the kitchen breaks and he's just about to yell at Anderson when he hears a noise coming from Holmes' bedroom.
A noise that sounds like a man groaning.

Poor Lestrade! Funny can be hot. Slash.

The Issue of Balliot's Doctrine by beedlebarg *
John sits forward, covers his face with his fingers in a hot mix of embarrassment and frustration as one of Sherlock's hands strokes up the centre of his back briefly.
“Please, don't touch me. You're driving me mad. I honestly don't know why you're being like this.”
“Like what?”
“Torturing me. God, that's it. You get off on it, don't you? You're a sexual sadist and you're grooming me.”

This blew my mind. Brilliantly in character and so damn hot. WOOF! Predatory Sherlock. Dirty hot slash.

It Was Worth A Wound by viridian_violet
John makes a ghastly wheezing sound, and Sherlock realises in disbelief that the bastard is actually laughing at him, even as his blood soaks through Sherlock's gloves.
'Don't laugh.' he says, irritated. 'You're not allowed to, you hear? You're not. You're mine. I need you, so you're mine.'

Oh, oh my heart. Pre-slash.

(bonus: art by chibitoaster D'awww!)

Learning Curve by lace_fic
“You've solved it.” Sherlock said, but there was a quality to his voice that made the words more like 'you are incredibly beautiful' or possibly 'I would dearly like to take you against this wall'
Glorious. Features wall-slamming. Slash.

Lost for Words, but This Bullet Will Do by nightrider101
“I’ll go fetch the doctor,” John said, disappearing in a drone of purposeful footfalls.
“I thought he was my doctor,” Sherlock mumbled. The pain was very real now, and Sherlock could think of nothing else so he closed his eyes to savor it, this different, magnanimous feeling.

Confused Sherlock + John's bedside manner = Lovely. Pre-slash with hints of slash (if you squint).

Men of Many Talents by ingridmatthews
"I thought you were married to your work," he whispers, biting his lip.

"I'm cheating on it," Sherlock replies..

Speed writer delivers A Study In Pink hotness. A mountain of smut. Slash.

Moriary Gets a Hold of Sherlock
Anonymous Prompt Fill from sherlockbbc_fic
I know I've been beaten," Moriarty said immediately. Sherlock sighed, closing his eyes as shame swept through him.
"I know I've been beaten," he repeated softly. He heard a soft click as the television shut off, and then John was crossing the room, grabbing Sherlock by the wrist and leading him inside. He pushed Sherlock into his chair and knelt in front of him.
"Don't say that. That man, he -"
I want him to say my name, Moriarty said suddenly. Sherlock shuddered slightly at his tone.
"Say it, John," he said reluctantly. John looked at him quizzically. "His name," Sherlock clarified.
John swallowed, still watching him warily. "Moriarty," he said finally, and there was a deeply satisfied groan in Sherlock's ear that made him want to crawl out of his own skin.

Moriarty has put an explosive device in Sherlock's brain and makes him seduce John. All kinds of wrong. Porn. Warning: dubcon.

Oh, But You're An Explosion by mardia
“Say yes,” Sherlock says, all his attention focused on John.
“To what?” John asks, his voice hoarse.
“To all the things I want to do to you—John, say yes,” Sherlock insists, and John’s never heard Sherlock sound like this, never seen Sherlock look at anything like this, and now he is and it’s all because of John—
“Yes,” John says, almost before he realizes what he’s saying, “—yes, all right, do it already—”

Ridiculously hot slash. Brilliantly characterised. Warning: rough sex!

The Peacock Room by unfinishedfugue
There is something to be said about being kissed by someone who thinks to be so desperately mistaken, who feels so utterly ruined as to think that he’ll find rescuing in a kiss. But maybe he wasn’t seeking rescue altogether. From his point of view, he could have been flirting with destruction.
Deliriously brilliant. Slash.

The Second Law of Thermodynamics by entangled_now **
"I need stimulation," Sherlock provides, like it's a life or death situation.
It's rather cold so John & Sherlock cuddle to keep warm. Adorable pre-slash/slash.
Part 2: The Art of Negotiation
"This really is a minefield of nuances isn't it?" Sherlock sounds curious and intrigued when John had been hoping for chastised at the very least. He's insane, it's the only explanation for how Sherlock has managed to somehow end up his bed for the second night in a row. The fact that he's not even protesting any more. He's insane, he should probably talk to someone about that. Or at least look up the definition of Stockholm Syndrome, just to be safe.
Part 3: The Definition of Insanity
He looks - John tries to think of a good word, a Sherlock-appropriate word - vexed. That's a good word. 

Though it's not his usual kind. John knows the difference by now, he can tell what's 'irritated by a mystery he can't solve,' and 'irritated by a mystery that was disappointingly easy to solve.' This is neither of those. So either it's something new, or it's something mundane, like Sherlock's discovered the fact that he has feet and he's wondering why they hurt so much.
Part 4: The Rules
It's far easier to kiss Sherlock than it should be allowed to be. His mouth is half-open and it's warm and if John had ever thought this wasn't what he wanted the idea is now buried, permanently. Because at this moment in time this may be the only thing he wants.

Self Deception by vomit_bunny *
“Would it surprise me to learn that my best friend is fictional?” he retorts sarcastically. “You know, it probably would.”
Oh, this is good. Really good. Very clever bunny.

(With Sort of sequel! and Part Two by baileyhix)

Sleep Is For The Weak by postcardmystery
His sentences are fractured, stilted. Totally unlike the man that John has seen so far, the man who is always so self-assured, to the point of alienating everyone around him. Now, there is a childlike quality to him. Like he's a little boy who's just made his first friend.
It hits John, and it hurts when it does, that maybe he has.

Absolutely lovely. Pre-slash.

Talk About The Blind Leading The Visually Challenged by pforte
Sherlock shook his head, faint amusement on his face. “If you were any more innocent, you’d ooze vanilla. Do try to remember that I have an antisocial personality disorder and that being tied up by me is not and will never be harmless.”
UNF. Very sweetly written bondage fic. Slash.

Thought Experiments by entangled_now
"No, never," he adds anyway. Rather than accuse John of not listening the first time, or of being an idiot.
It's the little things that make you feel loved, John supposes.

Just perfect. Slash.

Timeline by entangled_now
John's fully prepared for Sherlock to slither off of him and bound off to inform whoever needs to be informed of whatever Sherlock has just discovered. That's how it usually goes.
He's not prepared for Sherlock to stretch out over his back, warm fingers sliding into his hair.
He makes a surprised noise - which quickly turns into a startled yelp when Sherlock's teeth bite into his ear.
"Christ, Sherlock."
"You were much less distracting when you were asleep," Sherlock says, and it's all accusation and sudden, obvious interest against the curve of his arse.
John puts up with being an awesome and distracting canvas. Very Important Porn.

we're gonna wash ourselves in sin by calicokat
"Are you going to invite me in, sweetheart?" the serpent rocking on his heels one step below him croons. Sherlock shuts his eyes.
Really dark but actually so much more. Moriarty/Sherlock. John/Sherlock. SLASH.

Without Loss of Generality by queenklu
“For Christ’s sake, John, I could be lying! It’s so easy to lie to you. You wouldn’t even know!”
As if John doesn’t know that. God, it’s almost laughable. “Sherlock,” he says, and he’s holding Sherlock’s head in his hands before he can think about it, “you made me tea.”
Sherlock’s cobalt-grey eyes look suddenly very blue, bracketed by the tips of John’s fingers, and his mouth opens and shuts without a single syllable slipping past it, and it’s beautiful. Not the silence, though John’s going to tease him about that later, but just.
Sherlock knows millions of things that John could never hope to know if he had a thousand lifetimes and all the inclination in the world. But John knows at least one thing that Sherlock doesn’t. Maybe that could be enough.

Beautiful, believable first time fix. Adorable and sexy... and there's tea. Slash.

You Can Imagine the Christmas Dinners by ardenteurophile **
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six

“Oh my god,” said John, staring wide-eyed across the table at Sherlock.
“Oh my god,” echoed Sherlock, pulling his fingers through his hair and avoiding John’s eyes.
“Mrs Holmes,” began John, “I’m sorry, but I have to tell you, I think you’ve got it wrong about Sherlock and me. We’re not... I mean, I don’t...”
Sherlock looked up suddenly and gave John a look so intense and pleading that he let the words die in his throat. He felt his breath hitch a little in his chest and swallowed, suspecting he would come to regret this in the future.
“I don’t really... think he likes my jumpers at all, he wouldn’t let me wear my very favourite one this evening. Ahaha,” he said, forcing a laugh that sounded awkward even in his own ears.

Sherlock takes John home for Xmas dinner with Mycroft, Mummy & "Anthea" too. He's told them that he and John are a couple. He just hasn't told John yet. Brilliantly funny, wonderful characterisations spiffy dialogue to boot. Pre-slash/slash?

Nothing says “I miss you” quite like war poetry you carved in your door with a Stanley knife
want to see some more? oh god yes

Letter to Robert Graves

24 July 1918

American Red Cross Hosptial, No. 22
98-99 Lancaster Gate, W. 2

Dear Roberto,
I’d timed my death in action to the minute
(The Nation with my deathly verses in it).
The day told off - 13- (the month July)-
The picture planned - O Threshold of the dark!
Because the bloody Bullet missed its mark.

Here I am; they would send me back-
Kind M.O. at Base; Sassoon’s morale grown slack;
Swallowed all his proud high thoughts and acquiesced.
O Gate of Lancaster, O Blightyland the Blessed.

No visitors allowed
Since Friends arrived in crowd-
Jabber - Gesture - Jabber - Gesture - Nerves went phut and failed
After the first afternoon when MarshMoonStreetMeiklejohn ArdoursandenduranSitwellitis prevailed,
Caused complications and set my brain a-hop;
Sleeplessexasperuicide, O Jesu make it stop!

But yesterday afternoon my reasoning Rivers ran solemnly in,
With peace in the pools of his spectacled eyes and a wisely omnipotent grin;
And I fished in that steady grey stream and decided that I
After all am no longer the Worm that refuses to die.
But a gallant and glorious lyrical soldjer;
Bolder and bolder; as he gets older;
Shouting ‘Back to the Front
For a scrimmaging Stunt.’
(I wish the weather wouldn’t keep on getting colder.)

Yes, you can touch my Banker when you need him.
Why keep a Jewish friend unless you bleed him?
Oh yes, he’s doing very well and sleeps from Two till four.
And there was Jolly Otterleen a knocking at the door,
But Matron says she mustn’t, not however loud she knocks
(Though she’s bags of golden Daisies and some Raspberries in a box),
Be admitted to the wonderful and wild and wobbly-witted sarcastic soldier-poet with a plaster on his crown,
Who pretends he doesn’t know it (he’s the Topic of the Town).

My God, my God, I’m so excited; I’ve just had a letter
From Stable who’s commanding the Twenty-Fifth Battalion.
And my company, he tells me, doing better and better,
Pinched six Saxons after lunch,
And bagged machine-guns by the bunch.

But I - wasn’t there-
O blast it isn’t fair,
Because they’ll all be wondering why
Dotty Captain wasn’t standing by
When they came marching home.

But I don’t care; I made them love me
Although they didn’t want to do it, and I’ve sent them a glorious Gramophone and God send you back to me
Over the green eviscerating sea-
And I’m ill and afraid to go back to them because those five-nines are so damned awful.
When you think of them all bursting and you’re lying on your bed,
With the books you loved and longed for on the table; and your head
All crammed with village verses about Daffodils and Geese - … O Jesu make it cease…

O Rivers please take me. and make me
Go back to the war till it break me.
Some day my brain will go BANG,
And they’ll say what lovely faces were
The soldier-lads he sang

Does this break your heart? What do I care?



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