A/N: So I recently reached 1000 followers on tumblr and thought I'd throw open my ask box for fic requests. Rather than putting them in Sherlollipops, I've decided to give them their own home. Just like with Sherlollipops, they'll be short one shots and ficlets, with ratings from K+ to M (which this one is definitely M). Thank you to everyone who submitted these prompts, and to all my followers and to all my readers here and on Archive of Our Own; you all make writing this stuff worth it!
tillyblr on tumblr said: Hi, For 1000 followers I'm not sure if I have already sent this but my tablet was playing up. Sherlock and Molly omegaverse, Omega Molly has been on suppressants since her first heat, as she works at the hospital St Barts, the air con pumps out extra suppressants so as to not have staff and patients go into heat. Molly knows that Sherlock is an Alpha and has in the past nearly spiked into heat but now takes extra suppressants. However they have worn off, and no longer work but has not realised.
Of course the day the airborne suppressant system, at least the lines feeding the morgue, failed was the same day Molly neglected to take her morning pill – and then forgot to bring her afternoon pill with her. She'd overslept; Toby had knocked over her alarm clock sometime during the night, and in her rush to get to work as close to on time as possible, Molly had foregone all but the most basic part of her morning ritual. She realized her mistake as soon as she arrived at St. Bart's but then the bodies of a triple homicide came in and she was too busy to worry about it, reasoning that she could always dash home at lunch. But the autopsies proved to be trickier than she'd expected, Dr. Singh was called away on a family emergency, and what with one thing or another, it was two o'clock in the afternoon and she'd had no time to do more than grab a bag of crisps and a bottle of vitamin water from the vending machines before she was suddenly elbows deep in the third corpse.
Things still might have been all right if Sherlock Holmes hadn't come into the morgue to look at the bodies just as she was washing up. Lestrade had already been by, taken Molly's preliminary findings and left; Molly had thought his Alpha scent was stronger than usual but had put it down to the heightened awareness she always had when murder was involved in the bodies she was examining.
If she'd just taken the time to read her email, she'd have seen the high priority alert message HR had sent out, warning that there was a malfunction in the suppressant system leading to the basement areas of the hospital.
But no. Of course everything would come together in the perfect storm to cause Molly to spike into heat the second the only Alpha she craved came rushing up to her side, demanding to see the bodies she'd just placed into their storage slots.
It had almost happened in the past; the first time she met him, then again just after the Jim fiasco, and again on the night he'd asked her to help him fake his death when the Jim fiasco turned out to be more than just a ruined relationship. Only the extra suppressants she'd started taking after the second occurrence had kept the third occurrence from teetering over the edge into a full-blown Heat; that and the airborne suppressants supplied by St. Bart's were usually more than enough to keep things under control.
So much for careful planning and good intentions.
She turned to face him, taking in his scent: pure Alpha male, spiky with adrenaline and androgen, with heady undertones of the light cologne he wore as a grudging courtesy at the behest of more than one of his male colleagues, a way to mask or at least tone down his own overpowering Alpha aroma. As Molly had heard Anderson bitterly complaining on more than one occasion: "Bloody bastard's an Omega magnet and he doesn't even want any of them, men or women! Sodding machine!"
She opened her mouth to try and tell him no, she wasn't pulling the bodies back out, that she'd already given her findings to Greg, but her mouth was dry and a flush of heat like a sheet of fire went over her body. Her thoughts flew from her mind and all she could do was gape at him in shock.
For his part, Sherlock's expression went from impatient to startled to something she'd never seen from him before, certainly not aimed at her – intensely focused, almost predatory as he crowded her against the cold steel table that had formerly held her autopsy instruments, now meticulously returned to their proper places. The table itself had been cleaned and sterilized and was covered with a thin paper cover to indicate its readiness for future use.
"You've gone into Heat," Sherlock said, breathing heavily. He inclined his head and Molly automatically tilted hers, allowing him better access to her neck. "Thank God," he groaned as he shrugged off his coat and tossed his scarf carelessly to the floor. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her, a fervent, possessive kiss like none Molly had ever experienced, even from her few Alpha boyfriends.
When the kiss broke off, she finally found her words. "Thank God? Why?"
"Because biologically speaking we're immensely compatible, and emotionally speaking I'm finally ready to let you know how I feel," he growled, his breath hot on her ear even against the feverish warmth of her skin. He dragged his tongue across her throat, Molly arching her neck almost to the point of pain to allow him access. After nipping lightly at her pulse point, he pulled back and met her confused, hopeful gaze. His eyes were blazing, barely any blue left to them even in the harsh light of the morgue, the pupils blown back farther than she'd ever seen them. Her own eyes, she assumed, must look much the same. "I love you, Molly. I want to Bond with you, to have children with you, to spend the rest of my life with you as my mate, my wife…"
Molly interrupted him with an inarticulate sound of pure joy, throwing herself into his arms and kissing him with a passion born of pure joy. Sherlock might have been able to lie about his feelings to that Beta Janine, but there was no way he could fool an Omega whose sense of smell had been sharpened by a Heat as intense as this one; she could literally smell it if he was lying to her. And he wasn't. Every word he spoke was nothing but the simplest and most complex of truths.
He loved her. He wanted her. He wanted to father her children.
With a growl, Molly began stripping off her clothes, flinging them about heedlessly while Sherlock did the same. Then she looked wildly around, fighting to maintain some semblance of control as she sought the perfect location for their first coupling. The morgue itself was out of the question; anyone could walk in on them, and although once Stage 2 hit her she wouldn't care if she and Sherlock were having sex in front of a live studio audience, at the moment she could manage just the tiniest squidge of modesty. "My office," she panted, tugging on Sherlock's hand and trying to keep her eyes up and not stare greedily at his cock, so proudly erect and clearly ready for her. Just as she was ready for him; aching, throbbing with need, her thighs soaked with her juices and the sweat that was pouring off her body.
He went with her more than willingly, allowing her to pull him along, his fingers curled tightly around hers, his other hand tugging her hair free of the elastic that she'd used to tie it up earlier in the day. Once they reached the small office she shared with the other pathologists, she slammed the door shut and swiftly dialed Mike Stamford's number. "Hallo, Mike? It's Molly…yes, I…what?" She gave Sherlock as stern a look as she could manage; he was tugging on her hair, crowding his body against hers, his hands cupping her breasts and his teeth nipping at the nape of her neck while he slid his cock against the cleft of her arse. Not conducive to allowing her to finish this vital conversation. "No, I didn't see the notification, but I'm afraid it's…ungggh…too late for, for…What? Yes, I'm afraid so. In my office. Alone? No, mmmmm, not alone, no definitely not alo…Hmm? Oh, uh, Sherlock. Yes, Sherlock. And we'd very much like not to be disturbed for the next hour or so if possible…yes, I promise we'll, mmmph, get a, a cab…"
Unable to continue speaking, Molly dropped the receiver vaguely in the direction of the cradle and turned back to the infuriating Alpha who hadn't ceased his attentions to her body for so much as a second while she'd been trying to explain things to Mike. Her supervisor. Yes, there were special circumstances allowed when an Omega unexpectedly went into Heat, but she still would have liked to have been able to speak a bit more coherently!
She opened her mouth to scold Sherlock for his shameless behavior, only to have him take advantage of the way she'd turned to face him by lacing his fingers in her hair and tugging her face up for another eager kiss.
That kiss was the tipping point; as Sherlock's tongue demanded and received entry into her mouth, as he tugged at her hair and slid his other hand down to cup her arse, as she felt his cock rubbing up against her pussy, her ability to think was entirely overwhelmed. There was nothing left but instinct; want and need and her Alpha between her legs.
Molly was the one who swept the contents of the desk onto the floor with a crash and the fluttering of paper; Molly was the one who clambered eagerly onto the now-empty surface and rose on her knees so that she could spread a fusillade of demanding kisses over Sherlock's face and throat. Sherlock was the one groaning and gasping as Molly's small, dainty hands encircled his thick, hot cock. He was the one watching, open mouthed, eyes wide, as she palmed the tip of his cock, coating her hands with precum before giving him a wicked smile and smearing her breasts with the viscous fluid. When she reached between her legs and did the same with her own fluids, however, something in him seemed to snap; he growled and bent his head to nuzzle her sticky, damp breasts, breathing in the mingled aroma of their bodily fluids, sucking greedily at her nipples and reveling in the taste of that heady, musky scent on his tongue.
He mimicked her actions, dipping impatient fingers into her cleft with one hand and squeezing the head of his cock with the other, then rubbing his fingers together and sliding them into her mouth. She sucked greedily at his finger, moaning at the taste she'd teased him into trying out, then gasped as he grabbed her by the hips and yanked her against his body. "We're done playing, Molly," he snarled, lifting her roughly off the desk so that her feet landed on the floor, her back to him. With one hand he pressed on her back, and she eagerly complied, widening her stance and lowering her upper body so that her cheek was pressed flat to the desk's surface, her arms supporting her and her chest gaining some measure of relief as it rested on the cool metal.
"You're ready for me, Molly, say you are," he demanded, teasing the entrance to her pussy with the tip of his cock. "Tell me you want me."
"I want you," she moaned in agreement. God, of course she wanted him; she'd wanted him from the moment she first met him, how could he possibly need to be reassured of that fact now?
"Tell me you love me," he commanded roughly, his voice low and gravelly as he eased the first few inches of his cock inside her.
She felt his thickness stretching her walls; Alpha cocks were as dominant as any other aspect of their biology, and it had been a long time since she'd had one between her legs. Thank God Sherlock retained enough control over himself to go slowly at first; Omegas had been damaged by their mates being too rough, moving too quickly even with the softening of the tissues that came with the onset of Heat. Later, when she could think again, Molly would understand that this meant that Sherlock wasn't nearly as inexperienced as everyone seemed to think he was, but for now all she could do was gasp and pant and relax her muscles as best she could as he continued to ease his way inside her.
However, he stopped, nearly pulling out as he repeated his last command, louder this time. "Tell me, Molly. Tell me you love me!"
"I love you!" she cried, and he pushed back into her, not stopping this time until he'd fully seated himself.
"Good," he said, sounding extremely satisfied. "I love you too. Which I already told you. But now we've both…unnnfff!" He ended up a sputtering mess as Molly, finally comfortable with the weight and thickness of his cock inside her, moved her hips backward with a sharp, demanding motion.
"Shut up and fuck me, Sherlock," she snarled, and he immediately complied, his hands on her hips, gripping tightly as he snapped his own hips forward and back, setting up a punishing rhythm that soon had her writhing and crying out in pleasure as she reached her first climax.
Not long after that heady moment she felt the sensation of increased fullness at the entrance to her cunt, signaling the increase in thickness at the base of Sherlock's cock. His Knot was forming, ready to fill her in a way no non-Omega could comprehend; an Alpha could fuck anyone – another Alpha, a Beta, male, female – and it wouldn't matter. No Knot would form without the stimulation of the Omega's hormonal changes from going into Heat. And that feeling, simply put, was amazing.
Molly wailed as Sherlock's Knot formed; he thrust shallowly into her cunt and then roared out his first orgasm while Molly shuddered with her second. The feel of his body over hers, the impatient nipping of his teeth on her throat, and she turned her head to the perfect angle to allow him to sink those sharp Alpha canines into her jugular. Once he took her blood into his mouth and left his saliva in the wound, the pair bond would start to form. Molly would do the same to him during their second coupling, once they'd returned to either his flat or hers, when she would ride him mercilessly, but that was later. For now Sherlock sucked down the blood flowing from her throat eagerly, not even removing his mouth as he rolled them off the desk and onto the uncarpeted tile floor. He made sure to land so that Molly ended up on top of him, then turned them so they rested on their sides, still firmly tied together by his Knot in her cunt and his mouth on her throat and Molly knew she'd never been so content in her life.
He wasn't going to be an easy mate, Sherlock Holmes, but he was the only one she'd ever wanted.
Oh yes, Molly Hooper was more than content, and she knew that no matter what the ups and downs of the future, she would always love this man, and always find happiness in knowing he loved her back.
