Davis Benson

*All partners must be 18+* This blog will be NSFW ~ Age: 27 ~ Occupation: Handyman ~ Species: Beta Werewolf ~ Position: Top/Verse ~ Pack: Hamilton

[davis-benson-blog]

Davis yielded to the elbow enough to be amicable, and tipped his head away at the low grumble. His patience was usually reserved for the omegas in his own pack, but John was an obvious exception. Actually, taking the sheriff on a date was risky enough even on his best behavior.

“I’m familiar with the routine, but it’s not often an omega gets to play that game. If anyone could do it though, it’d be you, man,” he added sincerely, taking another swig from the bottle. “You’ve got the right attitude. And the scruff…” One hand wandered up and brushed against the hairs. They were still softer than his own. “Are those natural? Are you sure you’re not a beta?”

[johnmeade-deactivated20151209]

“I think you’d be surprised how much authority an omega can command, even when not gifted with my height and a job that supports my gym habits.” the Sheriff grunted, scowling a little as he stole the bottle back from Davis and took a drink long enough he had to gulp for air when he surfaced. He always seemed to forget, whenever he started getting relaxed with someone born and raised in Fairmoore, that they all had these backwards ways and archaic beliefs hidden behind friendly faces and warm smiles.

But he couldn’t exactly hold it against Davis, when an underlying statement of sexism slipped out in their conversation. He was always so earnest, so quick to apologize when John snapped at him for one thing or another. And he was trying. Wasn’t that what counted, really?

“Well they’re not implants.” John joked, a broad grin stretching across his flushed cheeks. He self consciously reached up, scrubbing a hand over the soft blanket of his close cropped beard. The hair was softer than a beta or alpha’s, closer to a coarse fur than the stiff hairs presented by the other genders. But it grew in nicely, and made him look more mature and a hell of a lot more authoritative than he did barefaced. “Nah, I’m definitely not a beta. I’ve got the slick stained heat briefs to prove it.”  

[johnmeade-deactivated20151209]

“Locker rooms are easy enough, once you make a point of demonstrating that just because I’m naked doesn’t mean I can’t beat their asses to Sunday and back.” John scoffed. 

John took the chip between his teeth, and tolerated the thick arm that slid between his back and the blanket curled around him. But he pressed the sharp point of an elbow against the beta’s ribs, and did nothing to suppress the low note of warning that rumbled out of his chest. It wasn’t a rejection. With John, rejection came by way of teeth and claws and the muzzle of a gun. 

No, this was more of a subtle request for patience, and a reminder that as the temperature dropped and the liquor in their systems rose, John would be a lot more accommodating than he was now.  

“Taking on a new department is a lot like taking on a new pack.” John shrugged, removing his elbow from Davis’ side and snatching a couple chips from the beta’s bag. “You’ve gotta stomp in, take down the asshole who thinks he’s in charge, and show the lot of them that you’re the baddest bitch in town. Establish a pecking order, and from there its just the occasional fist fight to keep everyone in line.” 

[davis-benson-blog]

Davis yielded to the elbow enough to be amicable, and tipped his head away at the low grumble. His patience was usually reserved for the omegas in his own pack, but John was an obvious exception. Actually, taking the sheriff on a date was risky enough even on his best behavior.

“I’m familiar with the routine, but it’s not often an omega gets to play that game. If anyone could do it though, it’d be you, man,” he added sincerely, taking another swig from the bottle. “You’ve got the right attitude. And the scruff...” One hand wandered up and brushed against the hairs. They were still softer than his own. “Are those natural? Are you sure you’re not a beta?”

[johnmeade-deactivated20151209]

John was thankful Davis made no indication he’d noticed the cold tip of John’s nose trailing along his shoulder. All the same, he pulled a few of the walls he’d shed back up, shoring himself up against vulnerability in the beta’s presence. It wouldn’t do to make a fool of himself in front of a man he’d only been on a first name basis with less than a week. 

“My job’s not all that bad.” the omega shrugged, settling more comfortably into the shell of the blanket curled tightly around both of their shoulders. It was a big blanket, but Davis’ shoulders were bigger, and it was only the warmth of the fire at their fronts that kept John from shivering in the cool of the night air. “It’s high stress, yeah, but I get to help the little guys and keep the assholes in line. And the guys at the station are great. I’m telling you, your fellow brothers in blue can really make or break how you feel about the whole damn town.” 

John snorted, shaking his head as he thought back to the Academy, and some of the guys he’d seen both kicked out before graduation, and the ones who’d managed to keep their true natures hidden long enough to get a badge and a gun. He was happy none of them had ended up here. He had more than enough on his plate defending himself from outside the force. 

[davis-benson-blog]

Davis dug through the pack until his fingers curled around a bag of chips. It hadn’t occurred to him until now how odd John’s position on the force was, not since his own mother had been scary enough to hold an almost military command over her five sons, but an omega status in society was entirely different. 

“Hows it all work, with your...gender? Like the locker room situation? Authority issues? I guess you don’t get to be sheriff without breaking through a few barriers.”

The beta popped the bag open and offered the first chip to John’s lips. Simultaneously, he wrapped his other arm around the smaller wolf’s hips, tucking one thumb through a belt loop.  

[johnmeade-deactivated20151209]

“Connoisseur, only by quantity consumed.” John snorted, tugging the bottle back from Davis’ grip. The sip he took was much closer to a gulp, and a small vocalization of appreciation escaped him when the bottle left his lips. With the kind of high stress job law enforcement was, more often than not, people who held the badge also bordered on alcoholism.  John wasn’t proud of it, but he knew that if he let himself get out of control he’d be the next officer to stand at the podium of an AA meeting. 

The fire crackled and popped, warming John’s face from the outside as surely as the whiskey warmed him from within. But neither compared to the heat of the hulking man at his side. Pressed together from shoulder to knee, John couldn’t help but notice exactly how good Davis smelled. Betas usually had a sort of clean, neutral musk, something more calming than an alphas, but more assertive than an omegas. He didn’t like to admit it, but usually the scent of a beta did nothing for John. On occasion, it had even given him a migraine, which had led to an unfortunate semester at the Academy. 

But Davis, with the crackling smoke of the fire winding its way between them, his scent was deep and complex, notes of vanilla and mahogany, all mixed with the sharp chemical smell of motor oil and healthy sweat. It was a good scent, one that lead John to taking long, savoring lungfuls of it, until he found himself with his nose nearly buried in a firm swell of shoulder. 

He blushed, and jerked away, passing the bottle back. 

“Here, maybe you should hold onto this for me.” 

[davis-benson-blog]

John could work a bottle well. Davis appreciated this for more than one reason, and he took another sip from the container just to taste what the omega officer had left behind. It was easy enough to advance to kisses when you’d already tasted one another in some innocent way. 

Davis turned his face back to the fire as his companion leaned in and breathed, letting John explore his scent without demanding more. In his experience, the best way to make an omega comfortable was to let them inspect you thoroughly while pretending you don’t notice. They’d dart away, see no reaction, and come even closer next time. Eventually, if they found nothing upsetting, they’d tuck themselves under an arm on in a warm lap and suddenly you were friends. 

“I’m no better,” Davis admitted, giving the bottle’s contents a little shake. “At least we won’t cause a public disturbance out here. Drink your fill, John. You deserve it. I know I would if I had your job.”

Or something similar. It had been the military that drove Davis to harder drinking, after all. Before that, he’d been content with few beers on Friday nights. 

[thorvalkyrie-deactivated2018010]

Chris Hemsworth’s Vanity Fair Cover Shoot

[johnmeade-deactivated20151209]

John was never one to give clear signals, even when it came to ones he wasn’t aware he was set up to give. The drinks were easy, the cold neck of a whiskey bottle finding his fingers like long lost friends, and he paused to take a quick drag from its mouth before nesting it in the grass away from the warmth of the fire. The food was soon to follow, cured meats and cheeses settled atop of the plastic containers of silky, creamy cheesecake John was dying to get anywhere and everywhere near his face. 

The speakers were tuned to play something from an old podcast John had listened to for a month or so a few years back. They gave a low, pleasant hum of chatter that reminded John of the dispatch radio at work, and he easily enough tuned it out into so much background noise. 

And the blankets? One was immediately thrown on the ground, spread out over the most even patch of land John could find, with everything else situated on or beside it. The other John draped over his shoulders, one long arm holding the flap open as he looked up at Davis expectantly, lit golden by the light of the new born fire.

“Well? Get down here before you freeze.” 

[davis-benson-blog]

That was a tempting sight. The firelight was kind on John’s features, softening his angles and the usual sharpness of his gaze. Davis tossed one more log on, sending sparks into the air before retreating to the cozy offering. 

The large beta tucked himself in beside John and settled the blanket around his shoulders. 

“You picked the good stuff,” Davis noted, passing his nose over the sheriff’s lips and breathing in the whiskey. Beneath that, the dulled aroma of omega sweetened the fragrance. John wasn’t as potent as most of his sex, but his assignment to the group was undeniable. 

“Casual drinker or connoisseur?” Davis asked, lifting the whiskey and taking a small sip. Small they needed to be, he reminded himself. Getting trashed wouldn’t charm John one bit, the beta suspected. His left side warmed quickly pressed against the smaller wolf, and the fire warmed his cheeks pleasantly. 

[theyrheroes]

[alataleir]

[davis-benson-blog]

do,ofwolfandmancini:

Hearing the other’s story about how his brothers had dropped him naked on the ridge one December, Victor could only let out a laugh at the thought of that. “That sounds harsh.” Victor himself hadn’t had any brothers growing up - or at least not that he knew of until his father wanted him to kill his own kin - so he didn’t know what it was like to have someone that was nearly always wanting to get on you for one thing or another. Still, though, he often wanted that for himself, and he told himself that that had been why he had had so many children… Because he wanted them to not be faced with the same loneliness he had had.

Thinking of his kids, though, had his throat drying and he swallowed the thick lump that accumulated there as he kept his gaze on the pathway ahead of them, glass crunching under his boots with each step. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to get away with fishing here, after all. Soon enough, he and Davis had made their way to the clearing in the woods and Victor nodded, looking around. The clearing stunk with the stench of alcohol and arousal, two common factors he was sure that the wolves around town came here for, but Victor had also noticed that he and Davis, so far, were the first ones there.

Sitting on the log next to Davis, Victor lifted a shoulder in a shrug before his hands moved to clasp one another. “Not much… I’m on leave for a bit,” Victor admitted with a sigh. “Got a burn on me earlier today and since it’s right on my shoulder blade, it’s interfering with my movements.” Glancing over at the Beta wolf next to him, he gave him a smile. “What about you? How are things going with you?”

“A burn? Show me, I’ll give it a good cleaning.” Davis fixed the alpha with a stern look, in case he tried to protest, then set about tossing logs into the fire pit. He’d done it a hundred times before, and it wasn’t more than five minutes before the flames crackled merrily. 

“That’s better,” he signed, brushing his hands off on his thighs and turning back to Victor. The smoke was heavy and smelled wonderfully of fresh pine, wafting gently about the clearing with a gentle mountain breeze.

“Beer or bourbon?” Davis asked, flipping the lid off one of the coolers and motioning for the alpha to sit. 

“Nothing too interesting this week. Took a contract with some rich omega in the city to re design a spare room in their condo, and I’m pretty sure he’s trying to seduce me. Walking around in short silky robes, shit like that. Don’t worry, I’m behaving,” he added flatly, cutting off any sort of scolding.  

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“The spring rains give it a good washing every year,” Davis defended, straightening a few sitting logs around one of the larger piles of charred wood. “And it goes mostly unused during the second half of winter. Gives the place a chance to heal a little.” Still, it wouldn’t hurt for the regular users to come around with a dozen trash bags now and then, Davis admitted privately.

The fading light would quickly hide most of the trash, so Davis sped up his work. Once he got a fire going, the piney smoke would take care of any lingering stench too.

“Only the best of the best for Fairmoore’s law enforcement,” The beta announced, giving his backpack a shrug and lowering it to the ground. “Go ahead and unpack, and I’ll get the fire going.”

Good move, Davis praised himself. Letting John decide how to arrange their goods would help signal how the evening would go. The omega could perch himself on a log and wrap one of the blankets around his shoulders, or lay them out for the two to picnic. He could go straight for the booze, or start off with water. He could choose a softer playlist from the ipod speaker deck, or something loud and boisterous. Of course there was food, beef jerky and other packaged goods, but Davis had also picked up a few slices of cheesecake from the corner gas station. Omegas liked such things, usually.  

It didn’t take long for Davis to get the fire roaring. There were always plenty of lighters to be found scattered about, and the regulars stored tinder and other helpful aids in foam coolers tucked beside large stumps.

“There we go! Come get warm, sheriff, and tell me your best story from this week.”

[ofwolfandmancini-blog]

Though Victor had been going out and enjoying the different bars around town, the truth was, he wasn’t really a guy that liked to get stone-cold drunk. Sure, it took quite a few drinks to do so but he had worked and lived in the woods before, so hearing that there was a bonfire happening in it? Well, he was quick to agree. That was what had him walking alongside his packmate, Davis, and he glanced over at him with a smile tugging at his lips.

“If you think this is a winter gust, you should really try it up in the Northwest. They might be a bit more killer,” Victor joked, nudging the Beta lightly as they walked. “But thanks for inviting me out. It’s been awhile since I’ve been to a bonfire.” Maybe he could sneak away and find some sort of rod to catch a fish, too?

[davis-benson-blog]

“My brothers made sure I’d never like the cold,” Davis chuckled. “They dropped me naked on the ridge one December when I was 16. Had to make my way home without transforming or they’d do it again.” Yep, the Benson boys had no shortage of tortures for one anther. 

The beta shouldered Victor back, nearly unbalancing one of the coolers resting on his arms. Beneath their boots, broken bottles crunched merrily and with more frequency. Well, they were definitely going in the right direction.

“Here we are.” The treeline opened into a dismal clearing, full of shattered beer glasses and dented cans and stumps surrounding old camp fires. They were the first ones out that evening, but others were likely to show. It was a popular spot. On summer nights, the field was full of drunken wolves, all mingling and trading drinks and wandering from bonfire to bonfire. It was too far out into the forest for cops to bother, and the loud cheers and music didn’t penetrate far. 

“It’s not much now,” Davis admitted, picking his way over to an area with plenty of comfortable stumps and logs to sit on. “But once the fires get going and the moon comes out, it’s actually really pretty.” The beta shrugged off his load of coolers and bags of goodies, glancing pensively in Victor’s direction. It was good the alpha had decided to come. Davis knew he’d been a little heavy with his drinking lately, and the authoritative figure may help keep him grounded. Maybe. 

“What’s new?” He asked, pulling out a lighter and tossing a few rotten logs into the pit.  

[davis-benson-blog]

johnmeade

“Okay, but just for future reference,” John complained, shoving his hands deeper into the warmth of his jacket pockets. “Usually when a guy agrees to go out for drinks with you, a bar is what he’s expecting.”

Yeah, a bar, and not a hike out to where a murder trail and the highschool kids’ hang out spot meet. The sheriff made a mental note to have someone come out and patrol the area a couple times on Friday nights. Kids were stupid, but kids with alcohol were an experiment in Darwinism.

“You like this weather?” John asked, trying to fill the silence of the isolated woods. He gave the tall beta a questioning look. “You must have grown up here or something. The only people I’ve met who seem to be excited to wake up and see their breath are folks who’ve had generations of family be born and buried in these parts.

“You’ve probably been taken out to bars a thousand times,” Davis reminded, ducking beneath a low handing branch. The shrubbery opened up after that, and things began to look familiar. Smell familiar, anyway. 

“Besides, I couldn’t inflict the presence of law enforcement on any of my regular bars,” he teased, glancing back at the trailing omega. “It’d ruin their night.” 

Omega. John hardly looked like one. It confused Davis’ fragile view of the world, the natural order and traits of the softer sex he adored so much. There were days when John smelled proper, and even looked softer, but most of the time the sheriff was something all his own. 

“And before you get any ideas, this field is way out of your jurisdiction,” Davis added, turning a knowing smirk at his companion. “The founders were very careful to build where we could dance the night away in freedom.” Dance, fuck, drink, and shoot up, in some cases. 

The treeline broke, and the pair tramped out into something resembling a field. Stumps and patches of tall grass littered the clearing, but there were man made trails weaving throughout. On some weekends, there could be a hundred free spirits crowding the expanse. Dozens of individual bonfires would be lit, beers and liquors traded from camp to camp, and you’d be hard pressed to find a private spot in the bushes. 

“Yea, I grew up pretty close,” Davis answered vaguely, breathing in the sour scent of unwashed bottles and rotting logs that were used as targets in pissing contests. Yea... maybe this wasn’t the classiest place to drag the sheriff to. 

The beta faced John sheepishly, knowing full well that John could smell the rancid symphony as well as he could. 

“Don’t give up on me yet,” he grinned. “Once we get a fire going and the moon comes out, it really is beautiful.”     

[davis-benson-blog]

“It’s lame to go to a bar when the weather is so awesome,” Davis insisted again, picking his way through the forest trail he’d definitely lost track of ages ago. There was a clearing out here somewhere, littered with crushed cans and broken bottles from previous bonfires, but damned if he could find it. The beta glanced over at his companion and offered him his most reassuring smile. 

“Just breath in that air, man, enjoy the walk. Let the winter gusts blow through your hair and all that.”  

[davis-benson-blog]

handyman, huh? can you come over and fix my plumbing? :D

I’m all about organic plumbing till Monday, ya know. Weekends are for a different sort of pipe laying. 

[davis-benson-blog]

So, Davis, tell us about something awkward and something fun that's happened when you were having sex with someone.

Oh God. This isn’t a story I tell when I’m sober. 

There was one time I spent the whole night seducing an adorable little omega, drunk off my ass and bragging about how I could rock his world, blah blah huge knot Davis is the greatest kind of stuff, and he finally dragged me to his apartment and let me strut my stuff. We had a pretty intense romp, then I totally fucked up the grand finale. 

When it came time to knot, my knee buckled and I slipped out just before we locked together. After that, I was too swollen to get back in. I made a mess on his stomach, and we sat there in shock and disappointment for several moments. The knot I bragged about ended up going to waste. I didn’t get a second date from that pup… 

[hemsyobsession]

[davis-benson-blog]

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Everything above this post is for the Fairmoore ABO RP