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Sherlock and John were working quietly in the living room. Sherlock was lying on the couch, fingertips poised together over her brow, eyes closed as she mulled over the case of the twin badgers. It had been a difficult affair to crack, the most recent in a long line of arduous drawn out cases. Sherlock was at her wits end. Mycroft had even showed up uninvited the previous day to check in on her. She was irritable and frustrated and in her mind it was all John’s fault.
“Sister mine, still on this business of the badger brothers? My, my, I thought that you would have solved this days ago. Would you like to know how they did it?” she had said.
“No, Mycroft, I don’t want you to tell me. Where’s the fun in that?” Sherlock replied, internally chafing at the idea that her elder sister had clearly managed to see what she had not.
“You know, of course, this haze in which you’ve found yourself is not, how shall I put it, intractable?”
“For Christ’s sake Mycroft, get out!” she shouted, unwilling to hear about it. Her pesky… predicament, certainly not from her paternalistic sister.
She hadn’t been able to shake off Mycroft’s words all morning. Sherlock was pulled from her reverie by John.
“Do you mind if I crack a window? It’s so hot in here.” John tugged at her collar, frustratedly. It was only August, it had no right being this warm. Sherlock didn’t even spare a glance at her or deign to answer John’s question.
“Right, guess that’s an okay then.” When John stood up to close the window, she felt a little trickle land in her panties. Her stomach dropped.
Fuck.
This could not be happening, this could only mean one thing—her heat was coming, now. The previous twenty-four hours flicked through her mind’s eye. They’d been up all night working on this case. Those badger burglars had really thrown them for a loop.
Oh. Oh.
It hit her, she hadn’t taken her suppressant. The doctor had always drilled it into her—
Take. Your pill. on time.
She straightened up stiffly. “Um. Sherlock. I’m just going to pop out for a bit.” She made to leave, heading straight to her bedroom. She needed to get out. Now. Hurrying to her room she threw open the door and clicked it shut, panting. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, the slick thickening in her pants and she hurriedly unbuttoned her jeans. Her limp flared as she made from the door to her bed and threw herself under her covers sliding a hand into her waistband.
Oh, ohhhh.
Just a gentle swipe over her outer lips, had almost made her yell. She was further along than she realised. There was only one thing for it. She shimmied her pants all the way off, carelessly throwing them to the floor. She sighed at the feeling of the cool air hitting her overheated skin. John brought her hand up and gently teased her inner thighs with the tips of her fingers, shivering. Carefully she traced over her pussy. She turned her neck and stifled a groan into her pillow. Going further, she pushed aside the pink lace, and lightly drew her fingers up and over her clit.
Mmm, ah!
She arched her back off the bed.
In the living room there was a loud crash. A priceless Japanese vase valued at 8 million yen, gifted to Sherlock by Irvin Adler, now lay in pieces on the shaggy rug. Sherlock had snapped. John heard it shatter from her room and stifled her heavy breathing. She had been walking on eggshells for weeks now. Ever since her old heat suppressant prescription had stopped working. Her doctor had given her a stronger dose and it had helped for a time but she could barely hide the sudden flushes and disappearances any longer. It was just enough to stop her creaming her pants every time Sherlock entered a room but it was getting progressively worse. And it appeared Sherlock had noticed.
She heard footsteps storm down the corridor and the door flung open. Sherlock stood in the doorway, hair mangled from running her fingers through it over and over. She was shaking with rage. John braced herself.
She had long since grown accustomed to Sherlock’s tantrums. Mycroft had warned her in the beginning. Everyone who had heard they would be living and working together had felt the need to point out their shock and inform her how difficult she was to be around. But she hadn’t found that to be the case.
From the moment they’d met and she’d laid eyes on her whipping the living daylights out of that corpse in the morgue, she’d fallen head over heels. Her omega heart had yielded utterly and entirely and belonged to the gorgeous tall, angular woman who now loomed over her. She was easy to calm if you knew how. And up until the last couple of months, they’d lived harmoniously. She’d managed to keep her lust for her daring detective under control. But that was no longer the case. She felt a mixture of guilt and fear that Sherlock would find out and think less of her.
Sherlock wasn’t like other alphas. Many had speculated that she… didn’t, couldn’t feel anything of what a normal alpha was supposed to feel for omegas. She’d never expressed any desire or interest in the subject and as far as John was aware, she’d never even been with an omega like that, or anyone else for that matter.
“I’m sorry” she muttered from under the covers. “I know we have a lot of work to do… I just. I’m not feeling well.”
“Bullshit” Sherlock seethed between gritted teeth. “You think I can’t…. Smell it?” She said furiously. “You don’t think I wouldn't notice how distracted you’ve been, not wanting to leave the apartment, crying over Mr Hudson’s shitty telenovelas the other night. You moved all the cushions from the couch into the bathroom for god’s sake. Increased appetite, increased blood flow, increased sweat production, flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, higher body temperature, you’ve worn nothing but sweatpants for weeks now. You hate sweatpants!”
Fuck
John’s brain was going to combust. She thought she’d been subtle. She’d tried so desperately to hide it. But who was she kidding?—This was Sherlock after all. The world’s greatest consulting detective. And now her worst fear was being realised.
“Fuck you, Sherlock! You think this has been easy for me? Prick.”
“I think you’d better get a grip. Control yourself. You’re not an animal for god’s sake. Every case we’ve taken in the last three months has taken us twice as long to solve, and it’s because of you.”
“Because of me! What does this have to do with me? You’re the genius ‘high functioning sociopath” detective without a heart. Cold computer analyst. Better than all the other alphas, so above everyone else because she doesn't feel things like we do. Doesn’t succumb to what she is because she’s so much better and so much stronger than the rest of us. Why don’t you just solve it yourself then”
“I-I can’t… John”, Her voice was suddenly quiet. Small in the wake of John’s outburst.
John looked up at her, uncomprehending.
“Ever since I met you, I’ve been feeling things. My body… urges that I've never felt before.You. Everytime you’re in the room. I feel like all the things that I see, that I smell, all the information just disappears. And there’s only you. I miss things. Important things. All I can see is the way you brush your hair from your face, the small freckles on your nose. Your eyelashes. I can taste what you had for breakfast, all I can think about is your scent. What that scent would become intermingled with my own.” She paused.
“And I hate it.”
There was utter silence.
“You took the one thing I lived for John, The cases, my work. But I can’t focus on anything but you.”
John responded meekly. “I thought that you would never want me. I’m just me, just John.” She said breathlessly, hardly, daring to believe that Sherlock felt even a fraction of what she felt for Sherlock.
“I don’t want you,” She said coldly. “But I can’t help myself” Sherlock took a step forward. John pushed back into the headboard, still afraid Sherlock might hit her. Rage was still pulsing through Sherlock’s body.
“Maybe.. maybe if I let myself” she mumbled, more to herself than to John. “Maybe it will stop. Maybe it will go away.”
“Wait… I don’t understand” John spluttered nervously, still inching further away incrementally as Sherlock came toward her.
“From the moment we met. From the beginning. All I can think about is bending you over that desk” She lent forward, her face inches from John, cheek brushing against her neck and whispered deeply “And fucking you until I knot so hard inside you all you can do is scream my name” John’s breath caught in her throat and her core quivered, a fresh rush of slick seeping between her legs.
“Oh, Alpha, yes!” She breathed “Please, I need it. Please, knot me, I’ll be such a good girl, I promise.” John begged, her mind having devolved completely into heat by that point.
Sherlock took in her scent gland and her tongue gently flicked over it. She mumbled “Then I might finally be able to be rid of this feeling. And get back to the cases. To detecting. I refuse to be a slave to this. To you. Anymore” She growled.
Through the haze of heat, John’s heart squeezed in pain. Maybe Sherlock really could never love her. But if this was the closest that she would ever get, by God she was going to grab onto the opportunity with all she had.
“Yes! Alpha. Fuck me. Knot me, God, please, yes”
Sherlock pulled her body onto the bed and pinned John down, holding both her wrists in one hand. “You made me go into rut, little omega.” She snarled. “No one has ever had the audacity. Consider the consequences of your actions.” She gripped her and kissed John deeply, sucking the air from her lungs. She tasted so good, like tea, potato hash and freshly baked bread. Her lips were soft and they desperately poured inside of her, tongues writhing. John’s back arched from the bed to meet Sherlock as she continued to pin her down.
“Fuck, your scent is so good. Even better than normal” Sherlock said, finally allowing herself to indulge, licking and sucking her way up John’s neck, paying special attention to John’s scent gland—the little raised patch of skin just where John’s neck met her shoulder.
Sherlock was an alpha on a mission, she quickly set about unbuttoning John’s blouse. She let out a low exhale when her eyes fell on John’s breasts cupped cutely in her delicate bra. Her whole chest heaved, thrilled to be exposed to Sherlock. They were barely covered by the black lacy little number. Sherlock didn’t hesitate, pushing it down and freeing a nipple. With one hand still holding John’s wrists, the other cupped John’s right breast, while Sherlock took the other nipple in her mouth and sucked like her life depended on it. John moaned, arching her back up and against the alpha as the sensations overwhelmed her.
John let down the first drops of sweet heat milk for her Alpha to lap up. Sherlock breathed hard through her nose as she suckled, wrapping both arms around John’s smooth back and gripping her tightly, all consumingly. John gasped and rocked her body against Sherlock’s, pushing herself further into her mouth. Her breathing grew heavy and she wrapped her legs around Sherlock’s waist, She ground against Sherlock’s rock hard cock. Sherlock moaned, the sensation overwhelming her. She’d been painfully hard since the moment that John got up to open the window and it had made solving the case of the twin badgers utterly impossible.
John’s hands, recently freed, strayed downwards rubbing Sherlock’s throbbing dick through the taught fabric of her pants. Sherlock caught on and fumbled with her belt buckle before John deftly batted her hands away and freed her cock for her.
John suddenly paused, realising. “Sherlock, Alpha, is this your first time?” She watched as Sherlock blushed deeply and averted her gaze, moving to push her roughly into the bed as if to prove something.
“It’s alright. Let me make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before, Alpha,” She slid one hand up and down her shaft, lightly, gently and Sherlock whined. It was true, she’d never felt anything like it. Never been touched there. Not even in the last few months of intermittent rutting had she let herself touch herself like this. Succumb. But it was too late and the throngs of lust had consumed her.
She pushed her hips and moaned as John slid her other hand over the head of her cock, slicking precum over the tip and the movements became quicker. John’s pussy yearned for Sherlock’s cock, pulsing, and she guided the head over her clit and rubbed herself on her, legs tightening their grip around Sherlock’s hips, On contact with the slickened entrance, Sherlock’s entire body went taught, and she shoved her face into the sheets gripping John firmly. She couldn’t resist and before John could do anything herself instinct took over and Sherlock thrust her hips forward implanting her cock inside John. The pleasure she felt was beyond anything she’d ever experienced. It scratched the itch she’d felt every time John had entered a room, made her entirely whole.
“Fuck” John screamed “Fuck alpha fuck me harder” and Sherlock did, letting lose and slamming herself into John deeply again and again, like a wild animal. Sherlock felt blood rush to the base of her dick, as her knot began to swell inside John. She could no longer pull out, instead focusing all her energy on quickening her pace, fast and rough inside John who had turned to mush on the bed, splayed out, utterly delirious, tits bouncing as Sherlock manhandled her body.
The pressure in her cock built and as she was about to yell out herself in a fit of ecstasy she turned John’s head to the side exposing her neck and clamped down hard, sinking her teeth into the base, marking her as her own. They were mated and both of them gasped, as they both came. John’s pussy pulsed, gushing cum between her legs and Sherlock jizzed inside her, filling her up with her seed. She panted, pulling out as her knot shrank and collapsed on the bed next to John.
The two of them lay there in silence, their breaths heavy in the air. A kind of clarity washed over Sherlock. All the rage, frustration, and anger towards John melted away and she saw her clearly for the first time. She saw every tiny detail and finally recognised that that feeling she’d felt had indeed been love. It had simply been that she’d never recognised it, and had given up hope that she even had the capacity to feel it, growing to resent the idea of it instead. But now it all made sense. She rolled her head over to gaze at her mate. John was blissed out of her mind, post heat and would probably sleep in her little nest for the rest of the day. Sherlock rose to her feet, not bothering to clothe herself and went back out to her laptop, her flaccid cock gently bouncing as she walked, still covered in John’s drying slick. She opened an email and typed.
“I have solved the mystery of the badger twins.” And began to work.
A few days later Mycroft came to pay them a visit.
She had entered the apartment and had taken one single sweeping glance over the both of them before smirking.
“I see you finally dealt with your little…. Issue”
“Get out”
“Fuck off”
Both John and Sherlock spouted simultaneously.
“What?? I’m happy for my little sister.And her… “ she sniffed the air again. “Mate!!” She exclaimed. But before she could continue Sherlock was already hurriedly pushing her out the door.