#*intensely inhales John's scent through the screen*

[myrockandrollking]

Unfortunately, my grandma is the only person irl who shares my love of the Beatles, so we had a movie night and watched a Hard Day's Night and it was a blast! Here are some of my thoughts and comments on the film and some of my favorite parts/quotes (sorry if it's out of order):

• the opening is obviously iconic, I love how George and Ringo fall and almost get fucking trampled and we aren't even a minute in yet

• also the way John just laughs at them took me tf out, I love it

• "he's very c l e a n"

• Paul's grandfather was fucking helarious

• my grandma was singing all of the songs so loudly that I couldn't hear any of them 💀

• "Tell me, how did you find America?" "Turn left to Greenland"

• "What do you call that hairstyle you are wearing?" "Arthur"

• the entire part where George is mistaken for a teen model had me cackling

• "do not breathe on me, Adrian"

• "grotty" should be used more

• I love how the manager was basically just like a babysitter trying to take care of four out of control children

• I did not appreciate the Ringo's nose slander, his nose is beautiful

• Ringo's wack ass dancing was so amusing to me

• "Do I snore, John?" "Yeah, you're a window-rattler, son."

• John randomly oinking like a pig caught me off guard tbh

• Ringo being protective of his drums is literally me with my guitar

• "Put yer tongue away, it looks disgustin hangin out, all pink and naked."

• all of the songs were bangers, ofc

• all of the John in the bath scenes give me pure serotonin, I love his goofy ass

• me and my grandma sang a duet of And I Love Her when it came on and it was so fun and sweet

• I'm so sad that they didn't add "You Can't Do That" into the film since it's my favorite song on the album

• since I watched Nowhere Boy directly before this and almost cried, this line tore out my heart

• the scenes of Ringo with the kid were so random but also so wholesome

• the whole mistaken identity scene with John and the lady had me laughing and blushing, oh my God

• since my grandma is a George girl, she was simping hardcore during his song, it was so cute

• she literally yelled "I've got dibs on George!"

• my grandma also doesn't laugh when she thinks stuff is funny for some reason, so it was basically just me cackling in the otherwise silent living room the whole time

• she kept looking over to me throughout the film and finally said, "man, you're all over John the whole movie, huh?" 😭

• please, she can't talk, this women literally ran up to the TV and touched George's face 🤣

• okay, I know I'm going to sound delusional as fuck but just hear me out-

During this exact particular scene:

I swear to God, for a second I thought I could smell John through the screen. So, the whole room just smelled like nothing basically, but when the camera was on John straight ahead in this scene after he's talking to the lady in the hall, my senses just exploded basically. I suddenly smelled strong tobacco and cigarette smoke, along with a clean sweet smell and citrus. It's like when someone walks by you with a lot of cologne or something and you are hit by it? It was like that with the sudden angle change when it went to this shot of John. It was the weirdest shit. I know it sounds dramatic and like I'm making it up, but weirdly enough it's happened to both me and another family member a few times with other movies, but idk why lol. Then when John went up the stairs it faded away and didn't come back. No one smokes in their house either and there was no smell like any of that in the room before, so it was really weird but also oddly comforting. Anyways, I'm probably just going insaine.

[renwritesstuff]

we are family

Day 4: we are family.

Describe or draw a familiar moment. Are they close, or estranged? Are they blood relatives, or family found with friends?

Two Traynors stared each other down, hands hovering over a small box. There were 5 empty shot glasses in a semicircle around them, flanking the pristine chess board between the pair.

Wiping her hands with a dish towel, Priya Suresh-Traynor pleaded with her family. “Dessert is almost ready, do you two have to do this now?”

“The fate of the galaxy depends on it, mum,” Samantha Traynor mumbled back, not breaking eye contact with her father.

“You heard the kid,” Geoffrey Traynor seconded with a lazy smile. “I need to know my little sprog‘s mind hasn’t gotten soft since she’s been away.”

“Soft?? Did you miss the part where I kicked Polgara T’Suza’s arse across the Citadel?”

“Vid or it didn’t happen.”

What are you, five??

...God, I wish I had a vid. Are there vids? I wonder if I can ask for one...

“I have a trophy proving it happened. And a witness.” Sam’s eyes flitted over to the witness in question, her gaze narrowing.

Commander Annelise Shepard held her glass of red wine in surrender. Her voice came out wet and shaky from her fresh sip. “She’s—” Shepard patted her chest from the cough. “—She’s correct. She electrocuted that asari good.” 

And got a shower as a prize.

That narrow challenge in her eyes switched to panic as Sam glanced back at her father, who was tsking in disapproval. “Neuro-feedback chess? ...Sammy. You didn’t.”

The Comms Specialist scowled. “I didn’t choose it, it was part of the tourney rules. Usually, yes, I have slightly more integrity.” Unless I really want to win, that is. “It was just a lark, father.”

“Well as long as it was on a lark you buried that smug asari, I guess you’re forgiven. ...still can’t top your Dad at 5-Shot Speed Chess though, I bet.” The older man blew on his knuckles theatrically and gave them a wiggle before resuming his position at the worn speed clock.

Oh, you’re on.

“Oh, you’re on.”

Priya gave an apologetic smile at Shepard, who had taken up perch at the kitchen counter partition. The bar seat next to her was empty, waiting for Sam to return from her tense game. The matriarch of the Traynor family was busy at the stove stirring the simmering pot of kheer on one burner while checking a boiling sugary syrup on another. The warm kitchen filled with the scent of Indian spices and jasmine rice bled over into the prefab living room area.

“I wish I could lie and say something like ‘they aren’t usually like this,’ but…” Priya shrugged and smiled fondly at her husband as the game began. The speed clock snapped with each hit as the older and younger Traynor dove into an intense exchange of pieces. “It’s actually a tradition when Sammy comes home.” She paused before clarifying. “A tradition since Sammy was proper drinking age, mind you.”

Annelise smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

Sighing, Priya tapped away her Omni-tool where a reverse countdown timer could be seen by Shepard. “I think it was One-Shot Speed Chess back then,” she admitted. “I swear we were a classy family at some point. ...I can’t recall when, precisely, but I assumed we had to have bumbled into it somewhere in the last 25 years.”

“I’m 26, mum,” Sam reminded loudly as she slapped the clock once more.

“We were definitely classy when you were one, sprog,” Priya snarked back. “I mean, you weren’t because you just ate and shat all day, but Geoffrey and I were newlyweds and still extremely classy.”

“Muuuuuuum!” 

Oh my God do we have to talk about me shitting my diaper in front of Shepard???

Annelise failed to hide a staccato of exhale-laughs behind her wine glass, amused by the exchange.

Oh my God why did we come here?

...Oh shit Dad almost had me there.

Oh shit are they doing this on purpose? Working together against me??

Betrayed by my own flesh and blood!

Sam had to do a few lazy blinks to push back the swimming in her head and vision. Those shots were creeping in fast aided by a full stomach of naan and saag paneer. But she resumed focus on the game at hand, giving the clock another slap as she nudged her white bishop in an offensive position.

“So, Comm—Annelise,” Priya fumbled slightly. “What are your parents like?”

Mum. Did you not watch any ANN profiles? 

Shepard’s sip of wine was casual, unruffled by the question. “Couldn’t tell you. Both gone. Mom when I was four from eezo poisoning, Dad when I was thirteen. Fire in our apartment building.”

What could have been a very awkward silence was instead filled with Priya’s empathetic tongue cluck (honed from years of practice as a registered nurse). “You poor thing. Too much life experience forced onto someone so young.” Her vigorous stirring motion never wavered. “Not to mention the life of a marine on top of all that. What a hand this universe deals us, hm?”

“Indeed,” Annelise agreed. She smiled sadly, her eyes inward as though weighing something. “This reminds me of the dinners I had with my brother and dad.”

Oh? Samantha’s head tilted so she could hear better. Her father was closing in on one corner of the board, but her queen sprang into a hole in his defenses.

“Oh?” Priya asked, echoing Sam’s own curiosity.

Nodding, Annelise rotating the now empty wine glass in her hand. “Dad wasn’t much for cooking, but John loved it. He loved grilling and barbecue. He’d usually save some of his courier paycheck for a good cut of meat at the store and try out different seasonings.” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “I bet he would have loved your cooking.”

“I fear I know the answer, but where is ...John?” At Shepard’s nod, Priya continued. “Where is John now?”

Oh no.

Should have given your folks some notes, Traynor.

I didn’t think it was my tale to tell!

How are you this bad at relationships, Traynor??

“Also gone, right before Dad. Car accident.” Annelise chewed her cheek a moment. “You know, before the Skyllian Blitz, I thought I was pretty unlucky based on all that.”

“And now?”

“Well, everything’s kind of a shit show, so jury’s out on that.” Annelise looked over at Sam, who was getting louder and more erratic with her clock taps. “But lucky in other ways.”

“Oh good answer, love!” Priya crowed, snapping the towel in Annelise’s direction. “A for effort, superbly charming response.” Her Omni-tool started beeping, signaling the woman to pull the pot of rice milk off the burner and set it aside to cool before turning her attention to the syrup. “What were three favorite things your brother cooked?”

An exhale deep through Shepard’s nose as she held her chin in her hand. “Oh God, I haven’t thought about that in ages.” She nodded at Priya’s silent pantomime offer to refill her wine glass. “He loved ribeye steak. Kind of fatty for me, and too damn expensive, but… I dunno, I liked it because he liked it so much.”

Aw. Sam felt a pang of longing for Shepard. There was a fondness to the woman’s tone that didn’t come up often. 

How often does Commander Bloody Shepard have a moment to think about her family? Or talk about them?

We should work on that, Traynor.

Geoffrey piped up regarding one of his favorite subjects. “Good man! Good cut of beef. What temperature?” He pointed a finger at Annelise as though calling on a student in one of his classes.

“Medium rare.”

“Good man indeed,” Geoffrey agreed as he slapped the timer one more time. White and black sides pieces were dwindling as lines of attack thinned out.

“Let’s see, what else… He actually did a spiced mutton I really liked. Sometimes lamb. Both were dirt cheap for awhile in Seattle before the drought, so he made a lot of it.” Annelise smiled as she accepted a small round poor of kheer, a sprinkling of ground nuts on top. “Oh, and his ribs were to die for. John had this dry rub mixture he spent months tinkering with. Took damn near eight hours to cook, but worth it.”

Geoffrey exchanged a look with his wife before cutting back to the game. Priya nodded.“Oh we love lamb in this house. One of the many reasons we applied for colony life. No more ration stamps from those artificial trade wars with the Volus, and all our farming sustainable and available direct to the colony first.” Priya fired up her Omni-tool. “I have a lot of great lamb recipes if you’re—goodness! I haven’t asked how your cooking chops fare?”

Nudging a pawn over to take Sam’s knight, Geoffrey jibed. “A loaded question, dear. We all know our Sammy is completely dependent on Alliance-provided cafeteria food. How she survived four years at Oxford is a complete mystery. She should have either ended up three hundred pounds from eating rubbish or died of scurvy.”

Hey!

“You talk a lot of shit, old man, for someone who just got checked. And it’s called a dormitory meal plan, I’ll have you know. I had three square meals.”

I just probably didn’t drink water the entire time. All booze or energy drinks.

“Of cafeteria food, further proving my point. Also, check.”

Ugh. Also, what?

That exhale-laugh from Annelise almost pulled Sam away from her last ditch strategy. The Commander extended her own Omni-tool. “I’d love the help. While I can survive on a remote moon with just a knife and a canteen, I don’t prefer to. I did undercover work for a year after graduating N7, so we had to learn how to be human again. Cooking included. Some of it even some fancy five course meals meant to impress targets.”

“So you know where all the forks go and what they do?” Samantha asked, slapping the timer. “Check.”

“I definitely do.” Those green eyes glittered with mirth.

“Oooh, be still my heart.” Sam shot a finger-gun at her girlfriend.

Priya made some flicking motions with her fingers before an answering ping from Shepard’s wrist. “Well, here are some of Sammy’s favorites. Someone should have them, since the pride of my life can’t make toast.” 

“Hey!”

“I also made note of some of the ones with Sammy’s allergies.”

Annelise flicked through the holo screen, studying the recipes. “Curry, shellfish, and peanuts, right?”

You forgot public speaking and losing at chess to my father.

Sam’s mother clutched her heart theatrically. “You know! Oh Geoffrey, did you hear? Sammy trusted her with shellfish, darling!” Priya poured a ladle full of the syrup over a small pyramid of large cake-like balls that had been chilling in a dish. She brought the dish over to the pair of competitors whose game was nearing completion.

“Check! And I did, love! It seems our Samantha is serious about this one! ...or her commanding officer looked at her file.” He grinned at his daughter before reaching for one of the gulab jamun.

Scowling, Sam slapped his hand away from the bowl before slapping the speed clock again. She could feel a heat rising in her neck and jaw (hopefully it was just the alcohol). “No dessert til we finish the game! And check!” 

After a tentative bite, Annelise dug into the bowl of sweet kheer with enthusiasm. “I mean, you’re not wrong, sir. But I had the decency to act surprised when she finally told me. How was that again, Samantha?” 

Oh sonabitch.

“When we went out on a date in public for the first time and I stole a bite of your lobster roll and my throat closed and we had to go to the med center.”

Both of her parents barked her name at the same time. “Samantha Karuna Traynor!” Her father added, “You always were a sucker for lobster despite never learning your lesson. And check.”

“It was worth it!” Sam squawked. “It was delicious! Also: check mate!” The pawn she’d been nudging forward that her father ignored got promoted to a rook and was now perfectly positioned to box in his king. 

Geoffrey stared at the change of fortune, dismayed and swaying a little in his chair. The shots were clearly taking hold. He tipped his king over in surrender, bowed his head at his daughter, and grabbed the topmost gulab jamun. 

Samantha joined him with a second ball, the syrup coating dripping slightly. They raised their desserts in salute before taking a big bite.

Mouth full, Sam grinned up at Shepard who was standing next to her chair. “I had you there to rescue me, darling. I knew I’d be all right.”

“I hope that’s always the case,” Annelise smiled back as she kissed Sam’s forehead. 

Before she slowly dropped down to one knee.

[hotsexydorks]

Derek loves Stiles, he really does, but he also loves just how much of a MAN the Sheriff is. He loves how filthy the Sheriff is after a long day at work and loves being able to clean him up with his tongue after Stiles is in bed, and also loves being able to finish the Sheriff’s day with a load down his throat and the Sheriff’s spit on his tongue.

Welcome Home : Derek/Sheriff

Even despite all the bad that they had faced Stiles was most afraid of telling his father about Derek. They had kept their relationship to texts and weekends but after the last fight they just had he knew that if they didn’t say anything it was going to only end up in broken hearts. They were done hiding it from him. 

That’s when they both learned something about the man. 

“Well to be honest with you son.. As much as I don’t like the fact that you’ve been lying to me all this time I appreciate you being honest with me.” The Sheriff looked over to Derek seeing an equally surprised face as the one on his sons. 

“You couldn’t have thought I didn’t notice? You’ve started grooming more, dressing better. Not even going to talk about how there were less socks with cum in them in the wash.” 

Derek couldn’t stop the laughter that came out from his mouth. He ducked his head to try hide it but that didn’t help much at all. 

Stiles frowned and hit Derek’s arm smacking him and starting to berate him. “You’re not supposed to laugh here. You’re meant to be my boyfriend, you should at least be supportive here. Not laughing with my dad about something embarrassing like that!” 

The smile on Derek’s face was big and soft. He reached his arm over his boyfriend’s shoulder, pulling him into his side. Derek laughed and gave the other a shake. 

“Now I know it may be none of my business.. But on that note of cum. You two haven’t..” Sheriff waved his hand as he tried to gesticulate instead of actually saying it. No matter who you were it was always awkward when the conversation first would come up. “..You know..” He pushed them further as it took a second for the two to open their eyes widely about what he was asking. 

“What!? Dad! No you can’t! -- “      “No sir, not yet. We’ve agreed to wait until Stiles was ready.” 

Stiles had started to protest before Derek’s voice drowned out his own. 

Angry again Stiles pounded at Derek’s side. “Derek! You can’t just say those kinds of things like that, especially not to my dad! He’s my Dad! He doesn’t need to know that. And you.” Stiles turned his attention to the other man in question. “And you! You don’t need to be asking those questions, my sex life is my own thing, that’s between me and Derek. You sir, are not involved. No way, no how.” Stiles huffed as he leaned back in his chair with a pout on his face. 

The two men laughed loudly, exchanging a knowing look between them that everything was going to be okay. 

~~~

After that day things eased up, Derek had lost all the tension and worry he had thought would come with the older man knowing. The Sheriff was more understanding than they really gave him credit for and with them no longer needing to hide it they had a lot more free time with each other. 

Derek became almost a common presence at the Stilinski household. He helped with the chores, keeping the place clean, cleaning after them and more importantly making sure that they were staying healthy. 

But things changed one night. Stiles had gone to bed and Derek was awake watching the rerun of a football match. The wolf had taken the liberty to take a few of the laced beers Stiles kept in the basement and had started to drink. His head turned at the sound of the door. 

The jiggling of keys really only meant one thing but still looked anyways. Sure enough as the door opened he was met with the sight of the older Stilinski, looking tired and worn from his double shift on the force. 

“Derek you’re up.” John said , already undoing the top buttons of his green work shirt. The Sheriff noticed the game on the tv and the beers on the table. “Mind if I join you?” He asked the wolf pointing to the tv. 

“Not at all.” Derek nodded. It was his house after all. Derek shimmed up the couch to make room for the other man. He didn’t even get a chance to offer his boyfriend’s father a drink before John grabbed one himself. Derek didn’t even catch how fast the other had opened it. Using the ring on his keys John popped the cap off and sat back on the couch. 

Raising his arms up and spreading them along the back of the couch. “How have they been playing?”  He asked while taking a large gulp of his beer. The liquid was still cool going down his throat and when it settled in his stomach John could feel the warm glow from it start to spread.

“Not great but not the worst I’ve seen from them this season.” Derek offered plainly as he sat back and relaxed against the back of the couch. Sipping his beer slower than the other. Derek already had a slight buzz going through him. Being already 3 beers in Derek that much more and he would be a drunk wolf in the male’s hands. 

John scoffed at the screen and made noises at the players that he had watched before. Berating them with critiques and comments on their playing. “Ah come on you’re throwing the game away!” 

His voice got louder, enough to raise concern with Derek about its level. “Shh.” The wolf pated the other’s leg trying to get his attention. Pointing upward he motioned in the direction of the sleeping Stiles that lay in bed upstairs. 

John raised his hands in admittance and polished off his first beer. “Sorry. I’m usually quiet but it’s nice having someone else here to share this with.” He picked up the second bottle and raised it to Derek as a toast in appreciation of the male.

“I’m sure you’d rather be upstairs in bed with Stiles instead of on the couch with this stinky old man.” John chuckled as the first gulp of his second beer easily slid down his throat. His shirt was already opened all the way. The top of his chest was exposed through the neck of his white tank top. Without thinking the Sheriff had gotten himself comfortable like he usually would have after a long shift. With his shirt open his belt buckle was next. Never of them noticed when he had done this but there it was clear empty glass bottles. 

“I don’t think you smell bad.” Derek replied honestly. The fourth bottle of beer in his hand was already half drunk while they watched the match. 

John laughed, he put down Derek’s comment to the wolf just trying to be polite under his roof. “Thanks Derek but you don’t have to try to make me feel better. It’s been a long day, and night. I know when I’ve got a bit of a funk going on.” Lifting up his arm John could smell the scent of the day on him. A mixture of his own smell and sweat only made stronger by his time on the job.

“I’m nothing but an honest man Sheriff.” Derek replied. “I’ve got a more sensitive nose than others. I can tell you, you don’t smell bad. Honest.” 

John raised his brows at the wolf. He wondered how sensitive that nose of his was. Knowing about the existence of werewolves and the like was one thing but to know what it meant was different. “Oh really? So what do I smell like then?” The Sheriff probed out of genuine curiosity. 

Derek took a moment, he hadn’t expected to be asked that. Putting down his drink Derek leaned over towards the man. His senses had been dulled somewhat from the beers. Inhaling through his nose Derek sniffed at the man, trying to isolate his scent and the separate smells he was getting from him.

“It’s…” Derek ordered the scents in his head and gave the man his findings as he got them. Talking through each one like he were taking notes. “You smell like.. Genuinely not that different from Stiles, but that would make sense since your father and son. But it’s a bit different.. There’s other things.” 

John was fascinated by what Derek was doing, it seemed so extraordinary to him. Even from a seat away he was smelling things like that. “Here.” The man spoke up. He shuffled on his seat and sat right next to Derek. His arm over the back of the seat almost resting on Derek’s opposite shoulder like some cheesy teen date.  John used his hand to wave open his shirt more, wondering if that would help make it clearer at all. 

Sitting so close together Derek could feel the heat coming off of the Sheriff’s body. The other’s scent was stronger now. Each inhale Derek took through his nose prompted the signature of John’s smell to grow bolder.

“There’s.. Leather. The faint scent of the aftershave you use, it’s woody and warm..” Derek breathed in again, his face closer to the man’s exposed chest. Almost touching it with his nose. “It’s earthy as well.” But now Derek was smelling more of the aftershave than the Sheriff's scent. 

Moving his head Derek searched for a stronger less diluted sense of the man’s smell. With his eyes closed, letting his nose be his guide, Derek found his way closer to John’s arm and his pits. Derek stopped right under John’s arm following the trail of where the scent was strongest. 

The smell was strong and wide. Derek could feel it behind just his nose, it filled his head, it even crept into his chest. Sling across him in a smooth wave. “It’s bold.. And strong.. But flat, it doesn’t hurt to smell. It smells musky.. Like a lot of it.” Derek didn’t notice his nose going deeper into the smell taking a larger whiff while breathing out softly. His breath almost laboured. “It’s so manly…” 

John felt the heat in his face. His cheeks blushing red as his heart skipped some beats. Derek was taking his smell in. The smell of the man after an over 10 hour shift. He knew he had to smell strong and heavy but Derek seemed to see nothing at all. But watching him more it turned out he was smelling him as intensely as he thought. It was that Derek wasn’t phased by it, almost like he liked it.

The Sheriff raised his arm and flexed his muscle as Derek sniffed at his pit. It felt dirty but in the best possible way. The way it should be between two men. 

Snifffff 

“It’s so intense, it’s so musky.. Like a real man.” Derek’s mind was full of the other’s heady scent. It was intoxicating, the smell felt stronger than any of the beers he had. He pushed his head deep into the other’s armpit, the hairs tickled his nose. The scent started to stick to him and fill him all over. This was a smell he could breath in all day. 

Derek rubbed his face against the man’s sweaty armpit. Pulling a moan from both the men. It was dirty and raw but it was so right. He inhaled deeply each time, drawing the man’s musk over and over.

Neither of the men were paying attention to the match anymore. John was too engrossed in how needy and filthy it was. He was flexing his arm and drinking his beer while his son’s boyfriend was sniffing at his sweaty pit. 

The depravity of it didn’t escape Derek either. It was wrong but it was so right. This was a man, this was what he had fantasized about. Powerful bracing men. 

A breathy whine fell from Derek’s mouth as he rubbed his face all over the man’s smell. Licking his lips the taste was even better than the smell. Kissing the other’s body was only the beginning, soon after that those kisses began to become licks. 

Dragging his tongue against the Sheriff’s body, Derek began to taste the man all over. Something that neither of them were stopping. Both too gone to do anything to stop their enjoyment of it. No moment of clarity even when Derek moved over to the other side and started to do the same thing. 

For a better position Derek straddled the man’s lap, leaning down as their bodies got closer. John’s hands were in the air, flexing and giving Derek more the smell he was chasing. But John wasn’t unaffected by the display. 

Underneath the other his pants were straining, his cock hard and leaking into his briefs. The moved with each twitch that Derek was causing. Pulsing against Derek’s ass and finding a break in the male’s cheeks to hide his cock. 

“You like that so much, then here, let me give you something that you’ll love.” John pulled Derek away from his body, yanking on his hair and growling at him. His low voice was hushed and powerful. 

John pushed Derek off of his body, looking at the glazed wolf. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, his mind in the same state. The man’s body was more of a drug than anything else he had before. 

Shoving him to the ground Sheriff spread his legs exposing his trapped cock held back by his soaked briefs. The grip on Derek’s hair returned as he was shoved against the man’s crotch. 

Moaning Derek started to mouth wetly at the source. His face nuzzling against him and trying to get more. Hand moved in a flurry as they pulled desperately at the open pants. By the time Derek’s mouth finally got to the man’s near naked crotch the smell was burning him. 

His head was spinning and his body grew weaker with each breath he took. But that wasn’t the only problem. He wasn’t just breathing and rubbing his face against the man’s balls. He was sucking at them. Licking at any bit of the man’s musk he could find. His tongue searched around slipping under the briefs and giving Derek a taste of the glorious man. 

The heavy full balls filled his mouth. Sucking on them delicately but also messily Derek groaned at the taste. This is the thing he never knew he needed. Derek hands grabbed at the band of the completely soaked through underwear and tried to pull them away. 

When they resisted his half attentive efforts Derek whined and pulled on them with force. There was so much strength behind him that John’s briefs were torn to shreds. Not that they cared. Derek certainly didn’t. 

Instead Derek just stared up at the man with a hunger as his tongue ran up the father’s shaft. Going all the way to the tip Derek cleaned the man’s cock and balls with his mouth. His hand wrapping around the tip and teasing him. 

John’s hands tightened their hold on Derek’s hair. It had been years since he had even thought about another person, and even longer since he had been with one. The hot wet mouth on his cock was sudden but welcomed. 

It was messy, it was sloppy, it was wet. Derek was hungry, eager, breathless. Should John have stopped him, probably, was he going to? Never. 

John threw his head back and moaned loudly as Derek worked on his cock. “Fuck… you kiss my son with that mouth?” He groaned through a bitten bottom lip. He was trying not to be too loud but it was hard when the sounds of wet slobbering on his cock were drowning even the tv out. 

Derek’s face blushed even harder when John brought up his son. Pulling off of the cock with a wet pop he licked his lips and took some deep breaths during his little break. “Yes Sir. I just… I can’t help myself.. You smell so good, so strong.. So manly.. So musky.. And you taste... “ Derek shuddered as he couldn’t even think of the words to describe the man’s taste on his tongue. He just moaned at the cock rubbing it against his face. 

“Such a nasty boy.” John tiled Derek’s head back and spat at the other’s face and into his mouth. He didn’t know where that came from but it felt right. The natural progression with how Derek had been dirtily worshiping his body, licking him clean and lapping up his sweat. 

His hair was wet, his face was covered in sweat and spit. His drool covered the front of his t-shirt but Derek loved it. He swallowed the spit that the other gave him. Opening his mouth for more. Instead the Sheriff greeted him with more cock. 

Stuffing Derek’s mouth with his cock again John started to move the dark haired stud up and down his cock. Fucking his mouth with ease as Derek accepted it and drooled around him. Derek’s throat was fucked by the man even after the match had ended. The post commentary was playing and just like the match neither of them flinched at it. 

John grunted with each thrust. He was finding out on this night just how much a werewolf could take. The man’s thrusts were powerful. After all he had years of pent up sexual energy to unleash. Derek was just the right dummy for it.

Every time his balls slapped against Derek’s face he could feel the grazing of the man’s stubble. John was sure that he was a normal human; his face wouldn’t have been right after it. The Sheriff had a vicious grip on Derek’s face and pounded into him with wanton abandon. His balls were dripping in spit from every time that Derek had gagged when John went too deep too soon. His uniform was drenched and darkened from the mess they had made. 

“Fuck… fuck..” John grunted as his hips became more erratic. “Fuck.. fuck..” He repeated again, until he felt the faint familiar feeling of an orgasm. His balls pulled up and his cock sprayed out shot after shot of his thick load. It was true bliss. His body convulsed at each and every shot, as if his body were propelling it out from his cock. “Fuckk..” He hissed. John shut his eyes and tried to focus his blurry vision. Opening them up again as his chest heaved up and down. 

Derek swallowed every shot of the other’s cum. Not because he had to, because he wanted to. The wolf licked his lips and nursed the other’s cock between them as it softened. His body wanted every last drop. 

Both men were panting as they took in the sight they had made. Their minds started to clear slightly from the haze they had been in. 

John sighed contentedly as Derek rested his weary head against his thigh, his nose still pushing deep into the other’s smell. 

“I think.. It may be time to talk about you moving in together.” John piped up. His hand was placed firmly on Derek’s head rubbing it as he looked down to see the other’s reaction. 

Derek’s eyes lit up and a smirk grew on his face as the two of them shared a look. Knowing it was wrong and perverted but both of them wanted it anyway. 

John rubbed the other’s hair as he rewound the match rerun and picked back up his beer while Derek put John’s soft cock in his mouth making sure it was clean and kept warm. 

[221b-carefulwhatyouwishfor]

John first saw the white boxes stacked high, then the tall figure moving slowly among them. John slowed and stopped, watching from the shadows of the trees, fascinated. Sherlock was dressed in a white shirt and trousers, his hands and arms covered in long white gloves, his face obscured by fine netting draped over a hat.

A cloud of white smoke hung in the warm air as Sherlock carefully removed the cover of a hive. John watched as he gently lifted out a screen of some sort and examined it closely, then replaced it and lifted out the next. It was mesmerizing, his movements methodical yet graceful, his concentration unbroken by the occasional bee crawling over his hands or clinging to the netting so close to his face.

John realized he was seeing another facet of Sherlock – he emanated a certainty and control that was genuine, nothing was forced, no arrogance or brittleness colored his actions. He was in his element here, submersed in his work, slightly removed and unreachable, just as he would be bent over a microscope or scribbling formulas into a notebook late at night.

Something shifted in John’s perspective; a new admiration took root, a tenderness blooming, a feeling of wanting to protect Sherlock from the slings and arrows of the outside world. But something hot unfurled as well – a desire to be pinned under that intense blue gaze, for those long fingers and shapely mouth to burn across his skin, an urge to mold Sherlock’s lithe body against his own and witness the ecstasy of release shimmering across his face.

John began walking toward Sherlock, drawn like a magnet, disregarding his own inner cautions and an occasional bee that droned past him. Sherlock had just replaced the cover of the hive, the bees still lulled by the smoke, and looked up, surprise evident in his eyes even behind the veil.

“John?” Concern threaded through his voice. “Is everything alright?”

John stood in front of him, possessed by a singular objective. “No,” he answered, shaking his head slightly, “it’s not quite right.”

Sherlock furrowed his brow, his head snapping back in shock when John reached out to grasp the bottom edge of the netting gathered at his shoulders.

John held his gaze as he raised the veil, revealing Sherlock’s neck, mouth, eyes. He lifted away the hat and netting, tossing them gently aside into the grass.

Sherlock’s eyes searched his face, and John paused, taking in the heady scent of smoke and sweetness of clover, the dewy beads of perspiration on Sherlock’s upper lip, the dampness of his hair, the hum of bees thrumming in the air.

He raised on his toes, his palms cupping Sherlock’s jaw, drawing him closer, gently, slowly.

John closed his eyes, his lips meeting Sherlock’s as softly as possible, a butterfly on a petal. He felt Sherlock inhale sharply and he shifted back slightly, allowing Sherlock to break away. But he stayed.

John found his mouth again, delivering a series of soft kisses, enough to taste the salt on Sherlock’s skin, feel the warmth of his breath, lingering on the plushness of his lower lip.

God, he wanted more, but he held back, pulling gently away, hazy, his blood singing. He looked into Sherlock’s eyes. “That’s what I wanted to tell you.” John’s voice was raspy, unfamiliar to his own ears. “One of us had to say it.”

Sherlock was silent, his lips parted, color high on his cheeks.

From The Sweetness Makes the Smoke and Stings Worthwhile

Read it on AO3 (Rated M, 70k, complete)