#Speyside scotch

[oxfords---notbrogues]

@quenteu

[proofpositive1]

🥃 A Speyside Classic Makes Its Mark 

Just wrote about the new heavyweight in Glenrothes' prestige lineup: The Glenrothes 15 Year Old is now a permanent portfolio addition and a masterclass in balance.

Aged in European oak sherry-seasoned casks and bottled at 43% ABV, The 15 is a boldly refined single malt that bridges delicate spirit and deep spice. It’s also a stunning example of what happens when heritage meets precision.

👉 Dive into why this bottle belongs on the radar of every serious whisky enthusiast: https://proofpositive1.substack.com/p/meet-the-glenrothes-15-a-speyside

Perfect for gifting, collecting, or just savoring slow.

[memories-of-ancients]

Man, liquor in Italy is so cheap. I got a bottle of Glen Grant Speyside Scotch for 18 Euro at this little mom and pop store, only whiskey they had in stock other than Jack Daniels. That's 19.77 USD. At home it would probably sell for $40.

[whiskyblog]

Singleton Whisky 18 Years Old

The Singleton 18-year-old is a single malt Scotch whisky from the Dufftown distillery in the Speyside region of Scotland. This whisky is aged for 18 years in a combination of bourbon and sherry casks, which gives it remarkable depth and balance.

Cask types: Refill bourbon casks, Pedro Ximénez & Oloroso sherry casks

[whiskeynwriting]

Pretty Boy

John “Soap” McTavish x Scottish!Female Reader

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Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Alcohol consumption, size kink for SURE, oral sex (f receiving, brief mention of m receiving), squirting, PDA, fluffiessss, aftercare, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, some hair pulling (baby boy receiving), biting/marking, possessive Johnny (BABY)

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A/N: Johnny is younger here and early in his military life, maybe two-ish years 🥰 There’s also some Scottish Gaelic in here! As always, with the translations (:

Thank you @thesleepingmusicneek for beta-reading once again 😊

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John “Soap” McTavish Masterlist

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It’s comforting, coming here, especially under the pretense of genuine fun. No longer visiting just to drink away your worries, indulging to simply forget. No, the first six months were filled with that, and afterwards, you’d had enough. You needed to live. 

Pushing yourself to be active within your town’s nightlife was difficult at first. Before he left, there wasn’t a night where you’d make an appearance here without him. That extroverted energy was so abundant that it flowed to you, too. But being here alone is nice, it’s new, and serves as a fairly decent distraction. It’s also helped you cope with meeting new people, friends and those with the possibility of being something more. You’ve yet to entertain that idea yet, though, the… something more. That, you still couldn’t get past. 

“Hey, love! Drinking tonight?”

“Why else would I be here?” Returning with your own question, the bartender grins.

With a shrug, Duncan responds, “Could be my good looks.”

“Yeah, yer bum’s oot the windae.” In short, yeah right. He often made you laugh, always being one to joke. “I’ll have some Scotch.” And just as he walks away, you specify, “Speyside.” 

The atmosphere is lively tonight, as it often was on a Friday. In this particular pub, the lights dimmed when night rolled around, offering a moody ambiance. The music didn’t slow, though, the band only continued the same spirited songs. Here, you felt welcomed, you felt like you belonged. Surrounded by your heritage, traditional tunes and familiar faces, tart liquor and raucous voices. Smiling and conversing with your friends came easy, the small town allowing you to know just about everybody in the vicinity. 

Friends from secondary school were enough of a distraction, pulling you aside for shots and dances. Even strangers made their way into your groups, becoming kin by the night’s end. 

“His name’s Alex!”

Glancing over at the red-haired man, you force a smile on your lips. “Good to know.”

“He’s fancied you for a while, ya know.”

“Yeah, I know…” It couldn’t be more obvious, and neither could your disinterest. 

The mere thought of fucking another man was honestly repulsing to you. And sure, you don’t have to fuck him, but that’s certainly where any night with Alex will head. Besides, you’re still so used to him, your Johnny. It hasn’t even been that long since you last had him. Longer than usual, but short enough to still remember. 

“I’m gonna, uh…” Eyes darting to the side, you gulp. “Go to the bathroom.”

She feels bad, your friend, knowing she pressured you a bit. But she can’t help it, she just wants you to get over him. And everyone here agrees. There’s little chance of him coming back, you should just get used to that. And maybe you will, in your own time. 

With slow steps, you take your time getting to the washroom, trying your best to keep your spirits light. It’s a night out, after all, this should be fun. And it was before that eejit came along to ruin it. He didn’t even do anything but he honestly doesn’t have to. He’s made enough unwelcome advances to deter you.

Just as you’re beginning to dwell in your sadness, you pass by the wall of polaroids lining this short hallway. It was Duncan’s idea, taking photos of all the regular patrons. Instantly, you’re drawn toward the picture of both you and him, that night a memory you still hold dearly to your chest. The pair of you look like absolute fools, you’re surprised you remember anything from that night.

“Now, right now!”

Your ribs ached from laughter as he pulled you in his direction, stumbling over your own feet like a little baby. 

“Wait!” A hiccup popped from your throat, which made Johnny snicker. “I’m fair puckled!” Holding your stomach, you took in a few lungfuls of air, regaining your breath. But Johnny didn’t care. 

“C’mon, bonnie.” He insisted, hauling an arm around your shoulder. 

With your chuckles subsiding, you stood beside him, posing for Duncan to take your picture. Reaching down, Johnny grabbed your jaw with his dominant hand, pinching your cheeks and bringing your head closer to him. Your hands clinged to his side as he placed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, and that’s just when the photo was taken. Johnny all over you, pressing his lips to your face while your eyes pinched shut with a happy grin. 

“My sweet bonnie.” He always said. 

After your trip, you return to the bar, sick and tired of dancing and interacting. Inside, you’re not sure how to feel. The memories you have of Johnny are bittersweet. So much love and friendship, for all of it to dissipate into simply… nothing. Or at least, that’s what your friends would have you believe. 

“Two glasses of Scotch, Dunc.” 

As soon as that voice hits the air, your eyes widen, instantly flashing over to Duncan’s. While towel-drying one of the bsr’s glasses, he grins, giving you a knowing nod. 

“Speyside.” The voice then specifies, finally prompting you to turn your head. 

And standing beside you, leaning against the bar’s edge, is a taller, broad man. Arms lined with tan and sculpted muscles, smile bright and blue eyes even brighter. But the part that stands out the most, the part that makes him… him, is that longer stripe of hair running across the top of his head. 

“Johnny!” Squealing his name, you throw yourself into his arms, already open and waiting. 

“Bonnie,” That deep chuckle vibrates through his chest and into your own, smile growing evermore. The familiar scent of sweet patchouli wafts from his body, chiseled muscles holding you against his chest. Your entire body tenses with excitement, butterflies erupting in your belly when he tucks his head into your neck - he still loves me.

“You’re back.” Your tone wavers a bit as you say it, feeling his nose nuzzle lightly against your skin. Lifting your hand, your fingers brush through the longer air at the nape of his neck, standing on your tip-toes to fully encircle your arms around him. His body feels firm, sturdy and muscular, even more so than before. 

“Yeah,” He says with a soft voice, rubbing your back fondly. “Few months late, but who’s countin’?” 

Leaning back, you scoff, giving his hardened chest a little smack. “Me.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Johnny quips, rolling his eyes as he pulls you back in. “All in the past. I’m home now, baby.” 

With the way you’re speaking to each other, you’d think you were still together. But that’s not how things are, not anymore. Not… officially. But with him returning home every six months, you’d come to expect these “surprise” arrivals. 

“I was starting to think you’d never come back.” Admitting quietly, you release a contented breath. This time around, six months turned to ten, and your hopes were quickly deflated. And the advice and comments of your friends didn’t help. 

“Hey,” He chastises lightly, frowning. “Don’t give up on me that easily.” 

Sliding the glasses onto the bartop, Duncan pushes one toward you, and one toward him. With stars in your eyes, you watch Johnny lift the glass, Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a swig. His biceps flex slightly as he lifts and lowers the cup, the gray fabric around his midsection hugging him tightly. The way his dark jeans tighten around his hips and ass also draws your attention, already obsessed with him all over again. And that mohawk, that signature look all gelled up and styled. A fairly new hairdo he’s kept for nearly a year now, and you’d be lying to say you don’t fancy it. 

Taking a seat beside you at the bar, Johnny converses with Duncan, catching up with his old friend. And Lord, all you can do is stare; how you missed him. Even after so many months apart, you find him captivating - that dazzling smile, those beautiful, bright blue eyes. How could one man be so goddamn handsome? So pretty?

“Been keeping after her while I’m gone, Dunc?” Johnny quips, eyeing you from the side. 

“Aye,” He nods, chuckling. “She’s been sendin’ all the boys home with their tails between their legs.”

“Ohh,” Fully turning toward you, he raises his brows. “Have you now?”

The boy's small compliments make a light heat warm your cheeks, and Johnny can tell. Reaching out, he taps your chin, giving you a small wink.

“Can’t blame them for tryin’ though, can I? Still just as beautiful, lass…” Leaning forward, he smooths his dominant hand over the top of your thigh, adding in with a quieter tone, “And just as fit.”

Your jaw drops into a wide grin, scoffing. “John Malcolm.” Scolding him playfully, you reach out, tapping the bulging muscle of his arm. And you suddenly find yourself wishing to touch it, hold his arm and squeeze it. 

Duncan leaves the two of you be, knowing how long you’ve waited for this. He’s honestly the only one that still held out hope. The rest of your friends take account of Johnny’s presence, choosing to stay to themselves, as well. Looks like they were proven wrong. 

“So, is life better in the military?” There’s a bit of humor in your voice, and a dash of flirtation on your lips. And while you try to make yourself seem confident and enticing, the fact that his hand still hasn’t moved from your thigh has you melting. 

He shrugs, smiling. “I think so, yeah. Still missin’ you, though, lass.”

“Yeah, sure.” Looking back down at your glass, the warmth in your cheeks has now spread to your ears and neck. You hope he’s telling the truth. “What’s your rank now?”

“Corporal.” Pride positively blooms within him, happy that you asked. “Hoping to rise to Sergeant.” 

“Impressive.” Tilting your head, you offer him a cheeky expression, eyeing him up and down.

“Still like what you see?” Johnny teases, fingers stroking the fabric of your jeans.

“Very much so.” It’s like every time he came home, he was that much bigger, that much stronger. It might sound silly, maybe even primitive, but Johnny seemed like such a man now. You’ve seen him grow since primary school, nearly your entire childhood spent together. And to see how he’s grown, it’s not only impressive, it’s wildly attractive. 

There’s nothing more Johnny missed from civilian life than you, and that’s the truth. But when he was on base and training, he didn’t have much time to think about you. Mainly, these thoughts came into his mind at night, when he was lonely, or horny. A lot of the time, both. 

Round after round, Johnny pays for your drinks, not letting you out of his sight. He’s scooted his seat closer to yours to where your legs are touching, his hand still on your thigh. Every now and then, he’s squeezing it, movements becoming firmer and firmer until he’s leaning in toward your cheek. Sloppily, he kisses your skin, pressing his lips into the plumpness of your cute cheek while grinning. He’s just so in love with you, and he doesn’t even know it.

“Johnny,” Laughing, your body tingles with happiness. 

“Wha?” He questions, not backing away even a single inch. “Not want me to? Got some other lad’s eyes on you?”

“Fuck no.” Instantly, you’re turning your head to face him. “Only you.”

Those azure eyes flutter between your own eager orbs and your slightly parted lips, allowing your hands to lift to his face and bring him in. Familiar lips meet in the middle, pressing fondly together, one warm hand rising to your cheek as he moves with your kiss. This is so easy, comforting. There’s excitement to it for sure, but nothing entirely new. You’re falling into him, into his endless embrace. 

“Missed you,” He whispers, mouthing at you. “Thought about you.”

At this point, you’re not even worried about anyone else seeing your overt public displays of affection. You kiss him like it’s an addiction, tongue slipping across his lower lip when you hear his sweet admission. 

There’s something about you that lights a fire in his depths. He knows who you are, just as stunning on the inside as you are on the out. Not only are you a pretty little thing, with gorgeous hair and a smile that could kill, but you’re sexy as all hell, too. You’re the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen, even throughout his teen years, his life in the military, he’s never met anyone that even compares. And he can’t get enough of you, can’t believe you fell for him, too. 

He’s not sure when he’ll tell you, if he’ll tell you, but he keeps a small booklet of pictures with you in it. No longer than a day or so goes by without him looking at it, and he’s thrilled to see that the real image is still better than the photos. At times, while laying in his cot at night, he wonders if someone else has finally gotten a hold of you, has finally swooped in and taken advantage of his absence. And clearly, others have tried, but you haven’t let them. They're not him.

Swallowing, you take in a short breath, eager to ask him your usual question. “Are you spending the night?”

Just like always, he responds with, “Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.”

*

*

*

By the time your feet are hitting the pavement, it’s late, the night growing chilly. But you can barely feel it, what with the energy rolling through your body. And the heat from Johnny’s hand only comforts you further, palm dwarfing your own with thick fingers wrapping around your much smaller ones. 

“You been lonesome while I’m gone?” His tone hints at a bit of sarcasm, but you know there’s genuine curiosity behind it.

“Mostly.” And when he hears the sincerity in your voice, he’s pulling his hand away from yours and looping that same arm around your shoulders. Here, he pulls you in, giving the side of your head a kiss.

“I’m here, now.”

“Only for a little bit.” You grumble in response, only slightly tipsy. Maybe more.

Johnny’s quiet for a moment, sighing. “Don’t worry about that.” He’ll talk to you about it later. 

Glancing over at you, he peers down, his height giving him quite the advantage when looking down your already low shirt. Your cleavage damn near makes him drool, forcing a rush of blood to the sensitive space beneath his pants. And he thinks he’s being sly about it until you look up with a smirk. 

“Still fancy me that much, Johnny?” Again, you’re trying to act cocky, display your confidence to him. But on the inside, you’re burning up. All you want is for him to compliment and praise you, make you feel small and warm beneath him, just like he used to. And he knows that.

Turning, Johnny pushes himself against you, leading you backward into one of the side alleys along the street. It takes your breath away, a small gasp puffing past your lips when your back hits the brick. With his hands falling to your outer arms, Johnny releases a heavy breath, head ducking down toward your mouth. Meeting him halfway, you tilt your chin up, feeling the crash of his lips. One of those broad palms finds its way to your jaw, holding you in place while he licks over your lips. His movements are much more passionate than before, back when he kissed you in the bar. It feels hurried and heated, like he needed you right here and now. 

“Of course I do.” He says between breaths, mouth opening to slide against your own. 

His lips are soft and smooth, the taste of his tongue sweet like candy. And these sloppy kisses are John’s forte, all tongue and spit and it’s all so familiar to you. Heart jumping against your ribs, you feel Johnny’s free hand find your chest, softly massaging your tits. 

“John,” Exhaling airily, you reach up with both hands, sliding them over his wide shoulders. 

“Wearin’ such a low shirt, lass.” He whispers into your ear, lips brushing against the skin.

It makes you feel vulnerable, the way his hand sneaks beneath the fabric, brushing your shirt up just a pinch within the alley’s darkness. Here, he cups you over your bra, fingers massaging you firmly. 

“Missed these.” Mouthing at your neck, he hears you whine when his teeth drag across the crux of it, tongue laving over the hot skin. And he makes his own strangled noise when your nails dig into the back of his neck. 

“You’re so much bigger…” Whispering as if you’d be heard, you mumble against his lips, fingers reaching for the longer hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Yeah?” That surely strokes his ego, pretty grin shining in the moonlight. 

“Mhm,” Nodding, you bring him in again, laying your tongue out into his mouth.

“Christ,” He shivers, bicep bulging as his hand cups your face. “Let’s get you home.”

Dizzily, you stumble after him, feeling the firm pull of his hand in yours once again. With a lovesick grin on your face, you let Johnny lead you back to your flat. And the rest of the walk is easy enough, only being a few more blocks. 

With a smirk, his hand slides into the back pocket of your jeans, fishing out your keys. Unlocking your door, his hand on your lower back guides you inside, shutting it in an instant. With already half-lidded eyes, he turns to you, licking his lower lip and reaching for you again. This time, your back meets the wall with a much softer embrace, Johnny’s arms looping around your midsection. Hands lowering, he finds the curves of your perfect backside, squeezing you gently while his lips return to you. 

Here, in the comfort of your home, John begins to consume you, soft and slow. With one, passionate grab on your ass, he’s moaning, hot breath washing over your features. Trailing your fingers up, they tangle into the strands near the back of his neck, and he groans. Your nails scratch lightly over his skin, fingers pulling gently on his hair. 

“Yeah…” Johnny’s liquor-soaked tongue continues to refamiliarize itself with your own, mouthing at you with sloppy licks and sucks. “Miss your fingers on me.”

“Miss feeling you, baby.” It’s like he gets more fit every time you see him, muscles expanding, body growing. His firm chest and stomach, strong back and arms, and that pretty face. “Johnny,”

Before you can speak any further, the hand not on your face falls to your jeans, cupping you eagerly. It forces a gasp from your mouth, immediately swallowed by him.

“Wanna taste you, bonnie.”

“Ugh,” Rolling your eyes up, your head falls back onto the wall as he begins sliding down. You were wondering when he’d ask.

This, in your opinion, is what he was best at. Sex with Johnny was always intense, passionate and heated, whether it was slow or fast. But using his mouth, that’s definitely his most valuable weapon. 

Thick fingers undo the button on your jeans, opening your zipper to reveal your purple, cotton panties. And he moans audibly, fully settling on his knees so he can lean in to kiss them. Soft lips press to your covered mound, your hands falling naturally to his head. 

“Sweetest taste,” He mumbles, mouthing at the fabric and pushing your jeans down to your ankles. Hooking his fingers into the hemline of your panties, you feel his tongue lave over the fabric, just barely separated from him.

“Johnny… please.”

He doesn’t listen, nor does he respond; he’s going at his own pace. 

The humid fan of Johnny’s breath wafts across your smooth skin, pooling your panties on the ground, just above your jeans. Tilting your head down, you become still, waiting for his movement. With your fingers sifting through the longer stripe of hair at the top of his head, he leans in, sticking his tongue out and running it up your seam to poke teasingly at the peak of your sex. 

“B-Baby,” 

The excitement that shoots through your body is addicting, feeling him lick tenderly at the crease between your outer lips, tongue diving deeper with every stroke. He can’t fully get to you from this angle, not in the way he wants to, but he likes this. The teasing nature of it is getting him harder than ever, tip already leaking in his pants. So, he licks into you, fingers pressing into your thighs as he begins to pull them apart. Well, as much as he can while your feet are still trapped in your pants. 

“John…” Already fisting his mohawk, you wiggle your feet, trying to ask him to take them off the rest of the way.

Hurriedly, he gives in, breaths heavy and fast as he removes your shoes, jeans, and panties from your feet. Quickly tossing them further behind his knelt form, he returns, forcing one of your legs up onto his shoulder. The strength behind his movements has you inhaling sharply, your calf draping down his back as he moves in. Instantly, he’s stuffing his tongue inside, licking directly into your channel. The way his tongue strokes you is languid, firm, caressing your inner skin fondly. 

The feeling of being exposed in your own home is foreign to you, your legs open wide for him in the middle of your entryway. But you’re getting used to this again, used to him.

Flattening his tongue, he rubs it up your lips until he reaches your clit, the talented muscle swirling around it. Pausing, Johnny takes a beat to suck two fingers into his mouth before prodding the tips of them at your center.  

“Yes,” Shoving your hips toward him, the back of your head hits the wall again, pulling him in by his pretty brown hair. 

Smoothly, his fingers sink into you, your soldier moaning from the sting of your fingers and nails. From the moment he got his mouth on you, his receptive buds tingled from your taste. How he fucking missed it. He’d reminisce on these moments back on base, mouth watering from the memory of your taste. It made him drool, saliva currently pooling from the corners of his mouth. Sloppily, it runs down his chin, listening to the wet squelch of your cunt as it sucks his fingers in again and again. He pumps them into you steadily, beginning to curl them when hitting deep. 

Lowering his tongue, he laps at your wet folds before returning to suck your engorged clitoris into his mouth. He suckles on it, whimpering softly when you buck your hips against him. With his free hand, he urges you on, cupping and squeezing your ass to push you further toward him.

“Oh my god, yes.” Rolling your hips, you grind yourself down onto his face, feeling his short stubble scratch along the insides of your thighs. 

He lets you ride his face, rutting over his mouth like it’s the last time you’ll ever get the chance to. Continuing to mouth at your juicy pleasure center, Johnny moans roughly against you, listening to your own wanton breaths. 

While prodding at your core, he hits something special, shooting euphoria throughout your entire body. It forces your pelvis forward, body chasing its high. You can feel it rising, the heat coiling in your belly. 

“Bleedin’ Jesus,” Johnny exhales, eyes closed as he devours you. “Dripping on my face, lass.”

“Johnny,” Whining above his kneeling form makes him grin, a low groan emanating from his chest. 

“Give it to me,” He suddenly demands, voice lower and more authoritative. “Right in my mouth.”

His words have you quivering, stomach muscles convulsing as you curl down toward him. A shrill gasp spills from your mouth, watching those dazzling azure eyes open to stare up at you from between your legs. Punching his fingers into your cunt, the hot air of his moans floats directly over you, soaking into your skin. And then he’s opening his mouth, just as you begin to gush. 

“John,” Your hips flinch from the force of it, Johnny’s free hand holding you up against the wall. His hand grips your waist, fingers bruising your skin.

Pleasure bursts through your body, shivering from your hips all the way up to your chest. And he holds you through it, through every twitch and quiver, through every high whine and tiny whimper. And Johnny just adores the way you hold onto him, fisting his hair while you ride out your high on his handsome face. 

Johnny’s mouth remains open against your cunt, fingers slowing their pace as he swallows down your cum. Breath escaping him, he gives in to the incredible pulse below his belt, hips jerking ever so slightly. Dragging his fingers from your center, he drops his shoulder, allowing your leg to slide off of him. And then he’s standing, pressing his body against you before grabbing onto your face. In a much hungrier pace than before, he kisses you, holding the hinge of your jaw open and moaning when you let him lick inside. 

Still dizzy from your high, you can just barely make out the wetness on his skin, your slick covering his lips and chin and cheeks. The taste of your release lingers on his tongue, lips sloppy as he swaps his spit with your own. 

Something about Johnny coming home to have the sweetest, nastiest sex of his life just felt invigorating to you. Every time, it’s just as good as the last, if not even better. 

“Fuck me,” That thick, deep voice, it gets you every time.

In the heat of it all, Johnny’s hands are lowering to your thighs, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his toned waist. Clinging to the sturdiness of his body, you hold his beautiful face, bringing his mouth back to you while he begins rolling his hips between your legs. Johnny’s moans, soft and sweet, a genuine melody, flow freely into the surrounding air while he grinds against you. He lets you lead the kiss, focusing on himself for just a minute. The wetness from your cunt wets the front of his pants, girth twitching beneath its confines. Desperately, he rubs himself against you, head lowering to rest against your neck. From the noises he’s making, the intense grunts and groans, you’d think he was fully fucking you. 

“Johnny, baby,” You can feel him throbbing against your naked skin, and you want him. “Please.”

Allowing your entire weight to fall onto him, he picks you up from the wall, turning to stride toward your bedroom. Nothing about your flat has changed, not a single detail amiss since he last saw it. At times, he thinks of this place as his own home. Sure, he visits family, his mom, his sisters, but this is where he stays. Here, with you. 

Kicking your door the rest of the way open, he walks inside, mouthing along the slope of your neck. He listens to your girlish sigh as he lays you on your bed, lifting your shirt off in the process. And you expect him to lay over you, return his attention to you, but he doesn’t. Standing at his full height, Johnny rips off his shirt before those strong hands fall to his zipper and belt. 

Left in only your bra, you watch him, lifting yourself up onto your forearms to lean back against them. In his hurry, he doesn’t see your wanting stare. But upon realization of it, he grins. 

“Look any different from the last time?” He asks, cocky as ever. 

“Always.” Reaching out, you lay a hand across his abdomen, more defined than it was almost a year ago.

Johnny’s abs made your mouth fucking water, his toned muscles and firm pecs. And his v-line, fuck did that get you going. Hair scatters his entire abdomen and it just makes you want to lick him. He’s so well-built, so pretty and fit. He’s just so perfect.

Sitting upright, you lean in, hands falling to his sides as your lips find his skin. Warm and smooth beneath your mouth, you kiss him, tongue laying out to lick along the lines of definition. 

“Christ, I missed you.” Shaking his head, he runs a hand over your hair, admiring you. 

He hadn’t finished undoing his pants, so you take up the task yourself. His belt is easy enough, granting you access to his zipper. Sliding it down, you’re greeted with navy blue boxers, the front dampened from his excitement. 

“You want it?” Johnny whispers, staring down at you with lidded eyes, petting your hair.

Your answer comes in the form of your next action, pulling him gently from his boxers. In your hand, he’s warm, thick and heavy. A glistening drop of precum falls from his tip, your thumb catching it before rubbing over his sensitive skin. 

“Later,” He then decides, licking his lower lip with a swallow. “You can spoil me tomorrow.”

“What if I want to now?” Your voice is tender and sweet, eyes peeking up at him.

“You don’t have a choice.” Grinning widely, he dips down toward you, taking your chin in his hand. 

Rising with his gentle tug, you return to your feet, leaning up into his kiss. Pressing into you, Johnny pushes your body onto the bed, lips never leaving. Easily, his hands slide around your back, undoing the clips of your bra while he moves to mouth at your neck. 

“Let me see ‘em,” He whispers, dragging the edge of his teeth over your collarbone. 

He drags the straps down your arms, discarding the last piece of clothing carelessly onto the floor. Your room is dark, the light switches empty of touch. But Johnny can still see you, the streetlamp outside your window illuminating his view. 

While caressing your waist with those strong, calloused hands, Johnny stares at your chest. That warm tongue makes a home for itself between your breasts, licking up the sweet valley of your cleavage. Breathing steadily, you let him enjoy you like this, indulging in you all over again. Turning his head, he sucks on the slopes of them, teasing his tongue around your nipple until you whine. 

“Baby, come oonnn.”

With a smirk, he’s wrapping his lips around one of your pebbled peaks, smooshing his face against your soft flesh. He sucks on you tenderly, lips moving in little, pulsing motions. Every now and then, his tongue will come out, laying flat against you. And the best thing about this, were the sounds he made. Boyish moans fall from his lips as he continues, completely losing himself in this. 

Slowly, your legs wrap around his naked waist, warm and firm against your thighs as you pull him further in. The second you feel the weight of him hit your inner thigh, you’re releasing an airy gasp, feeling his shaft slide between your exposed lips. 

“Oh, Christ…” Dropping his forehead down, he rests it against the center of your chest. Nestled between your velvety folds, he twitches, stomach muscles tightening with excitement. 

With careful motions, he moves his hips, sliding himself against your entrance but not yet diving in. His stiffened length prompts your body’s aroused reaction, wetness coating his shaft while the noise of it spills into the room. Back and forth, his hips sway, listening to your timid breaths, your gorgeous body shuddering every time he runs over the peak of your sex. 

“I just wanna lose myself in you…” Johnny whispers into the darkness fondly, tip catching at your entrance. 

While your breasts offer him a comfortable resting place, he wants to be closer to you, closer to that pretty face. So, he lifts his head, pressing his hairline against your temple as he begins to slide in. Smooth and slow, he breaches you, one of your arms looping around his neck for support while your other hand grabs at his bicep. In unison, your lips part, moans slipping between the nonexistent space between the two of you.

The stretch is gentle, welcoming. There’s just something so specific about this, about the way you open up for him, the way your sex overtly accepts him. You welcome him in like you’ve been waiting for this very moment since the last time he left, which isn’t far from the truth.

Burying himself entirely in your tight heat, he throbs forcefully, uncontrollably. Once his pelvis meets your own, spreading your legs even further around him, your fingers find his hair once again. Running your digits through that feathery stripe of hair makes him sigh, a happy smile blooming right beside your cheek. 

“Mm…” Johnny hums pleasantly, nose rubbing against you ever so gently. He could be so sweet, he was always sweet. 

The hairs at his base scratch kindly at your delicate skin, your very center fluttering from the contact. Pressing further between your legs, John grinds himself into you, kissing your cheek while you adjust to his size. You’ve taken him countless times and still, his girth always seemed to surprise you. Even more satisfying was his length, never ceasing to hit the deepest parts of you.

“You always feel so good, mo leannan…” You’re whispering to him, the Gaelic words making his heart beat with overwhelming affection. (My sweetheart)

“I come back for you,” He suddenly says, huffing out a harsh breath. “Every time, it’s for you.”

When he says this, he begins to move, creating a steady yet languid pace. Upon his first reentry, he groans openly into your ear, that deep voice creating the loveliest sounds. Johnny’s moans were always so beautiful, not too rushed or frantic, but smooth and deep.

Lovingly, his head ducks down to your neck, reveling in the way you hold onto him. One of the things Johnny enjoys most about sex is the closeness, the body heat. The hand you had on his bicep loops beneath his arm, scratching slightly at his back while your other arm stays wrapped around his neck. You can feel every bit of him this way, every flexing muscle, every firm plane of skin.

“Jesus,” Your lover grunts, left hand sliding up the mattress to hold the back of your head. 

Hot and clenching, you pull him in, stroke after stroke. And it’s killing him. You feel ethereal, like everything he needs, everything he’s been missing. 

Hitting a particularly sensitive spot, you cry out a bit louder for him, soft moans turning into high whines and little whimpers. Fingernails dig into his sculpted back, feeling Johnny angle his hips just right. 

“Yeah, right there…” Mumbling into your neck, he mouths at you, wrapping his right arm around your lower back. Here, he lifts your hips, encouraging you to meet his thrusts. And you instantly do.

With one arm holding your back, and the other beneath your head, he keeps you close to him, chests pressing together, stomach rubbing against the other’s. Already, he feels flush, panting and moaning from the way your entire body squeezes him, especially when your ankles hook around his lower back. That turns him wild, fucking himself into you like he’ll never get the chance to again, pressing his lips to your cheek before moving his head to find your lips. 

“J-John, baby…” The small whimpers slipping past your lips prompts a certain cluster of emotions to form within him. You’re so special to him, so sweet and delicate, his perfect lass. And all at once, regret swirls inside his gut, regret for leaving you, for not taking care of you. He wants to, wants to give you everything he can, and he hasn’t been doing that. 

Thrusting into you without abandon forces the breath from his lungs, breathing into your space, feeling your own wafts of warm air. Your kisses are passionate, gasps falling into the other’s mouth while your tongues dance together in messy patterns. It’s intoxicating, this feeling with him, the sensation you create when together. 

Strong hips continue to pump his swollen length into you, head hitting the deepest parts of your being, shaft keeping you spread. 

“Don’t, don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” The way you sound, it’s everything he’s dreamed of since being gone. 

“Beautiful fuckin’ thing,” He suddenly huffs, shaking his head. His eyes don’t open as he speaks, entirely lost in the feeling of you. “Mine, always mine. No matter where I go, how long it’s been…”

“Johnny…” There hasn’t been a moment during his past visits where he’s admitted something like this. It was too hard to admit while he was constantly away. You both agreed to part ways, ending your “official” relationship. And even though he always returns to you, it’s never prompted a continuation of what you once had. 

Before you can register what’s happening, he’s pulling out of you and planting his hands on your hips. Flipping you onto your stomach, he slides back in, earning a shrill gasp from your end. With his hands flat on the bed, his hips bounce against your ass, breaths punching from his chest. Something comes over him, he can feel it and you can, too. Leaning down, Johnny’s mouth finds your skin, biting at your back. What first appears as gentle nips turn into mouthfuls of skin, digging his teeth in hard enough to leave marks - you’re his. The subtle sting, the rush of adrenaline it creates, it’s overwhelming. From this angle, he feels even bigger than before, the slap of his pelvis against your backside ringing throughout your bedroom. Leaning further in, Johnny kisses along your shoulder and neck, your skin wet from him and your own sweat. And then his dominant hand is sliding across your hip, lowering to grab a fistful of your ass. 

Caressing his forehead against the back of your neck, he whispers, “Bonnie bell,” Entirely out of breath, Johnny admits again, “I missed you.”

Reaching around, you fist the hair along the back of his head, dry moans scratching their way through your throat. Shakily, you respond, “I n-need you.”

“You have me,” He’s confident in promising this to you. “You have me, baby.”

The sweet moment fades when you feel him throb against your inner walls, shoving your face down into the pillows as you whimper for him. 

“So fuckin’ wet…” John whispers, eyes closed as he begins to feel that dull heat rise within his depths. 

“Will you cum? Inside me?” He can barely hear you, your voice muffled by the pillows. But he answers anyway.

“Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.”

As soon as you ask, he feels it hit him, that powerful wave of pleasure. It wreaks havoc on Johnny’s body, convulsing above you as he drops to your back. His hips twitch from pleasure, shaking with every milky rope that spurts from him. And once his chest hits your back, he’s wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you impossibly close, clinging to you in an almost painfully tight embrace. 

Your fingers massage his head sweetly, stroking through his hair kindly. His mouth falls openly against your neck, soft and damp. John’s body is hot above your own, his warmth leaking into you with every one of his euphoric moans. He feels the pleasure of it fill every limb, every vein; this type of high, it’s nowhere else he can find. 

It’s ages before he’s pulling out, allowing himself to soften inside your sickeningly sweet pussy. His mouth drags across the entirety of your neck, your shoulders and back, releasing soft moans as he displays his adoration for you. Dropping to your backside, he mouths at it, finally able to worship his most adored feature on you. With both hands, he grabs you, massages you and pulls you apart while licking up the curves. Johnny sucks his mark onto you, planting a deep bruise. And while it’s erotic, it’s sensual, too. Deeply sweet in his own way. 

“Mo ghrádh…” A jolt thrums throughout your chest when you hear him speak these simple words. My love.

“You stay.” He then says to you softly, turning to leave the room. And you know exactly what he’s doing. And when he’s back, he’s instructing gently, “Up.” 

Smiling, you lift your hips for him, feeling the cool wipe of a cloth between your legs. Every time, without fail, he’d clean you, show his gratitude in this way. And while he knew you went to the bathroom after you two were done, he still wanted to do this for you. Even while you were busy doing that, he took your water bottle from your nightstand, filling it before putting it back. He just wants to make you comfortable, wants you to know you’re cared for. And by the time you came back, you were met with the sight of your Johnny baby, your pretty boy, all cuddled up in your bed. 

“C’mere,” He calls quietly, a sleepy smile on his lips as he lifts the covers. 

Hopping eagerly into bed, you cuddle happily within the embrace of Johnny’s strong arms. Wrapping around you, he pulls you in, allowing you to relax against his chest. You always snuggled this way, facing each other, heads resting against the other’s as you dozed off together. And he finds himself feeling the most at peace this way, in these moments. There wasn’t a time he felt closer to you. 

*

*

*

It was something he always liked,  something that made him smile and giggle. The way your hands caressed his head, fingers sliding up through his tall strands as you styled them, it just made him so happy. With his new profession, Johnny felt the need to be serious almost constantly. He had an image to uphold, after all. He’s the best at what he does, and is only continuing to sharpen his skills. But with you, he could let go. He could be himself again. And the real Johnny, he was goofy. He was silly and sweet, curious about the world with a childlike innocence that made your heart flutter with emotion. 

“I’ve heard this one so many times.” Whispering, your smile forms fondly in the early morning light. 

Raking your fingers through Johnny’s hair, you pause to scoop a bit more gel from the jar, styling his mohawk. Sitting comfortably on his lap, Johnny rests back against the headboard of your bed, watching you work with a sleepy grin. Both of those kind hands run up and down your thighs, squeezing you every now and then.

“It’s one of my favorites.” He says, replying to your comment about the song he’d put on. 

Just inches from his beautiful face, you feel the breath of his words form along your lips; prompting you to ask kindly, “Doesn’t it get boring, though? Listening to the same songs over and over again?”

“Nah,” He grins, shaking his head but stopping when you frown at him, your fingers stilling in his longer locks. “All the best ones remind me of you.”

“Johnny,” You reply, touched by his admission. But he just shrugs. 

“I see you in all my favorite songs.” 

He’d woken up beside you this morning, limbs tangled with yours, the taste of your cunt still on his tongue. And he reveled in that, the sensation nurturing his already rising erection, the one that rose nearly every morning. But most important about this morning, was the fact that he gets to spend it with you. 

Since highschool, you’d been inseparable. Lovebirds since you were fifteen, stealing glances at each other until he got the nerve to make a real move. And after that, you were hooked. Even when he left, after so many years together, he was never truly out of your head. From the first time you met, the first time you held hands, the first time you kissed… everything was special from the very moment you laid your eyes on him. This is the most intricate, romantic, and passionate relationship either of you had been in. 

It haunted you, watching him leave and knowing that your sweet boy, your Johnny baby, was going off to train and fight. And most importantly, leave you. But you can’t think about that, not when he’s right here with you.

“Mo ghrádh…” He mutters again, staring up at you with absolute adoration.

All you do is smile at those words, shaking your head with slight disbelief. But he wants more, he’s calling for your attention. 

“Sweet cailín,” Johnny coos, both hands lifting to your cheeks. (Sweet girl)

“What, baby?” Your voice is just as small and sweet as his when you respond.

Bringing you in with a gentle pull, Johnny reunites your lips, the kiss tender and brief. But then another follows, and another, until you’re molding yourself to him all over again.

“Have you had anyone inside you, bonnie?” He suddenly asks, the question entirely unexpected. “Since I last left?” It’s said quietly, carefully; he’s afraid of the answer, but is quickly reassured. 

“No.” Holding onto him with your arms looped around his neck, you give him your full attention, having completely forgotten about his hair. “Only you, Johnny.”

“Really?”

“Yes… have… have you?”

“No, no one.” His response is quick, expressed through a deep release of breath. Running a hand down your back, he admits, “Can’t bring myself to.”

“Baby?”

“Yeah, dove?” He misses that nickname, so common  and simple but so sweet when spoken by you.

“I love you.” Saying it feels like an enormous release, your emotional wellbeing blossoming just from being able to tell him again. “I still do.” 

He smiles, head moving gently against you. “Don’t think I could ever not love you.”

“Johnny,” Sucking in an emotional breath, you decide to be fully vulnerable with him, with your best friend. “I w-want, I miss you.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know…” Johnny thought breaking things off was the best thing for the two of you, he really did, but he’s learning now that that’s far from the truth. And seeing you like this, so vulnerable and wanting, it’s crushing him.

Pushing yourself forward against his chest, you sigh, turning your head to rest your cheek on his shoulder. Broad hands run lovingly up and down your back, soothing you.

“I miss being yours.” Comes your small whisper, breath floating over his neck.

A sudden surge of possessiveness comes over him, strong arms squeezing you tight. “You are mine.”

“Not like I used to be, Johnny…” Sadness consumes you entirely, the emotion ruining your delightful morning. But it would’ve come out sooner or later, and right now, it’s practically spilling from your heart. “Would, would you ever want that? Again?”

For a moment, he stays quiet. He’s trying to figure out how he should word this.

“I wouldn’t expect anything new from you, I promise I wouldn’t.” Desperation seeps from your pores but you’re past the point of caring. You’re in love with him, you can’t help it. “I know you can’t talk to me while you’re gone. It’s just, I… I miss it. 

“You know…” He finally says, “I’m kinda sick ‘o that, anyways.”

“What do you mean?” Sliding one hand down his chest, your pointer finger runs over him, creating little patterns.

“Bein’ without you.”

A bright grin slowly cracks across your face when he says it. “Really?”

He shrugs, grinning himself. “Always miss you. Always think about the lads here, someone comin’ into swoop you up. I cannae let that happen, bonnie.”

Lifting your head, you find that cute little smirk. Jesus, how the hell is he so pretty? 

“There’s no one here that could ever replace you.” One hand then finds his cheek, his chiseled jawline. 

“This doesn’t mean I’ll be home more often though, lass. Still goin’ ta be busy on base.” 

Shrugging, you answer simply with, “I figured. I mean, it won’t be any different.”

“Except that I’ll write to you, when I can. I will.” 

“I’ll write back.” Smiling brightly, you almost can’t contain your giddiness. “Sometimes… it feels like we never even broke up.”

“Yeah,” Johnny smiles widely, “But I like that.”

For just a second, you’re silent, smiling like a fool in front of him. “Yeah… me too.” A timid grin then pulls at your lips, eyes dipping down to watch your finger move over his chest. “Always knowing you’re around… always coming back to me.”

“And I always will.” He says quickly, lifting your chin for you to look at him, capitalizing on his statement. 

“Promise me?”

“Yeah, bonnie bell.” Barely tilting his chin, Johnny presses his lips to your own. “I promise.”

[scotianostra]

On June 8th 1865 the Glenfarcas distillery was acquired by John Grant, marking the beginning of a period of major expansion.

Glenfarclas means “glen of the green grassland,” or if you want to dilute it fiurther, Valley of the green grassland, Glen being the word we use for Valley.

Over the last hundred years, many family distilleries have been bought up by drinks corporations, and, as with any acquisition, many of the unique signifiers and family trappings have faded and disappeared. Not so here. Robert Hay founded the Glenfarclas Distillery in 1836, but John Grant bought it in 1865 and the distillery has passed from father to son ever since.

The distillery sits in the middle of open farmland at the end of a short road that connects the distillery to the A95. It has to be said that Glenfarclas is not the prettiest of distilleries and it gives the impression of being mainly built in the 1950’s.

The visitor centre is quite a modern building, with lots of tartan, buthas been described as lacking in “soul”. That said, there is a lovely tasting room the “Ship’s Room” that has wood panelled walls and furniture taken from the 1910’s cruiser the RMS Empress of Australia. The Grants were the first to open a visitor centre in a distillery in 1973

Where Glenfarclas scores points is the friendliness of its tour staff. Unlike some of the big name Speyside distilleries, which run tours like a production line, Glenfarclas is a more intimate set up where the tours are for small groups and the people that guide them are not rushing to keep to a schedule.

Six generations of Grants have shaped Glenfarclas, from 1865 until today. This guaranteed a constancy of quality and foresight that a durable product as whisky needs. There is hardly another distillery that has as much high quality and old whiskies in its warehouses as Glenfarclas.

The distillery has approximately 68,000 casks maturing on site, in traditional dunnage warehouses, with stock from every year from 1953 to the current year. Going back before the Grants took over there is evidence that the distillery started production in 1791, it’s first liscence to distill whisky was granted in 1836 when it was run by Robert Hay.

More recently in 2011, the 40-year-old 46% volume malt was named "Scotch Whisky Single Malt of the Year" in the 17th Annual Malt Advocate Whisky Awards.

In 2022 thieves broke into the distillery's visitor center and stole more than £1000,000 worth of whisky. Distillery bosses said those responsible “knew exactly what they were looking for” in a statement posted online after an inventory taken later that morning found some of the rarest items had been stolen. The haul totalled around 20 bottles of whisky, they knew exactly what to take.Last year one of the managers said he believes they have hidden it away somewhere, and that auction houses all over the world are on the look out, if and when it resurfaces.

[acapelladitty]

RiddleBird - First Kisses 💋

Summary: A small trio of snippets following the timeline of the various first kisses that occur between Edward and Oswald. This is my gift to the lovely @luckyspade-8 as part of a discord exchange 💖🎉.

“I’m not fond of white wine.” Edward announced with the confidence of a man who thought his opinion meant something significant. “It doesn’t sit well in the ol-”

“Well, you’ll be delighted to know that I don’t plan on forcing any down your gullet.” Oswald interrupted, sparing a mildly appraising glance towards the very expensive chardonnay which sat pretty in his chilled glass, a single droplet racing down the curved side.

“I’ve recently acquired a taste for whisky.” Edward continued, not fazed in the slightest by the mild criticism as he swirled his gin and tonic around playfully. “Selina recently acquired a cask of single malt scotch whisky from a shipment designated for Sionis. Macallan. Forty years. A Speyside whisky. Delightful in the mouth.”

A certain wistfulness entered Edward’s tone as his gaze dipped to his drink once more, as though he could command the liquid to transform at will.

“I would hope so. For over 40k a bottle, I would expect a certain level of delight to be stored in every drop.”

“40k huh?” Edward whistled. “I didn’t know it was that well-priced.”

Oswald narrowed his eyes slightly, the pulsing beat of the techno band which he had been convinced to hire to secure a more youthful clientele rattling the darkened windows which surrounded his office. It wasn’t to his taste, but a quick check in with the bar had reported record sales for this quarter so he wasn’t going to complain.

“Yes, you did. You wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise.”

Edward laughed and the genuine nature of it forced a small smile to tug at the edges of Oswald’s own lips – a movement he covered by sipping from his glass once again.

“You know me too well, you crafty old bird.”

A fact which didn’t go unnoticed by both men – their fraught relationship simmering from youthful rivals in the criminal game to gentlemen of leisure who understood that birds of a feather would, more often than not, benefit from flocking together.

“I will keep it in mind for your next birthday. I need some ideas anyway.”

“A whole ten months wait? Is that how the King of Gotham treats his subjects? I would have thought myself privy to special treatment by now.” Rolling his eyes, Edward inclined his head towards Oswald as he dropped his crossed leg to plant it firmly against the carpet while reclying comfortably in his seat.

“You get enough from me.” Oswald bit back without fire. “Besides, if I am your King then your manners have been seriously lacking. Perhaps I’ll have your head for your various little treasons against me.”

Moving with all the poise of a snake closing in on fresh prey, Edward slipped from his head to cross the small space to Oswald. Without hesitation he grabbed at the free hand which was not wrapped around a wine glass and brough it to his lips; pressing a quick, unflattering kiss to the back of Oswald’s hand before releasing it and dipping into a flourished bow.

“Apologies, my King.”

Caught off-guard by the sudden intrusion into his personal space, a nervous bubble of laughter rose in Oswald’s throat and he allowed it to burst free as Edward returned to his seat – the kissed skin of his hand retaining a warmth which he would think on more when his belly wasn’t full of expensive chardonnay.

x-x-x-x-x

Arkham had been unkind to Edward. The mild gauntness which hung across his thin frame would have been concerning to anyone who would dare to be concerned about such a madman.

“You’re thinner than ever.” Eyes flicking across the pacing figure of Edward, Oswald tapped his thick fingers against the hard wood of his desk. It was true. Arkham was not a environment where the genius flourished and it showed easily in both his physical and mental demeanour.

It had also not escaped Oswald’s attention that Edward had visited him before any other potential help and that fact sat comfortably in his chest – igniting a suspiciously smug feeling.

“Hardly my biggest concern.” Edward replied in a tight voice, his hands clenched in the loose fabric of the t-shirt which hung from his chest.

Oswald sniffed. “It’s somewhat irritating.”

“Irritating?” Pausing long enough to fix Oswald with a questioning glance, Edward truly looked like a boy in man’s clothing. The spark of life which animated his typical movements seemed dimmed, lost to the weeks he had spent in medicated hell.

“Yes, irritating.” Oswald repeated with a small smile as he rose from his seat, gesturing to the large unopened package which lay off to the side of his office. “Particularly since I just had these delivered.”

Edward remained silent, watching with curiosity as Oswald walked over to the package and rapped it with the edge of his knuckles.

“Three brand new suits. Emerald. With black question mark accents on one.” Oswald explained, his eyes narrowing slightly as he attempted to remember exactly what the hell he had ordered all those months ago. “Includes both black and light purple shirts to allow for some customization. I got them from that excellent tailor in Metropolis who customises my own suits. I thought you may need them due to your recent spate of troubles.”

Something in Edward’s expression shifted, melancholy quickly replacing itself with a fondness which only further sparked the warmth in Oswald’s chest.

“Oz, I don’t know- I don’t think I can accep-”

“You can and you will.”

Determined, Oswald slipped away from the package and strode over to Edward’s position. His steps felt light and the heat in his chest only seemed to increase as he came to stand before Edward – his head tilting up in such a way that the light caught the back of Edward’s hair in such a way that the red strands appeared to almost glow. A fiery halo encasing handsome features which Oswald had long since grown fond of.

Seized by boldness as Edward met his gaze, Oswald pushed his head up to press his lips against Edward’s in a chaste kiss – his heart beating erratically in his chest as he made the first move for once. Edward’s lips were chapped, rough against his own, but it made no difference to him as Edward froze in place for a second before his body loosened, his head tilting down as he allowed Oswald to kiss him.

It was no great kiss of passion, no bodice-ripping expression of desire, but it was simple and it was nice and, to Oswald, it felt as natural as the day was long.

x-x-x-x-x

In the miserable chill of the Gotham winter, neither man seemed bothered by the cool air which washed over their heated frames as they moved frantically atop Oswald’s ostentatious bed. A lack of serious plans had allowed for a longer morning lie-in and gentle petting had quickly ramped up into a fun, playful session of foreplay which Edward was more than happy to take the lead on.

His back pressed to the sheets, a thin sheen of sweat coated Oswald’s body as his propped head followed Edward’s erratic movements while his chest heaved with the effort of keeping his hands curled within the sheets.

Edward’s lips were hot as they travel across Oswald’s body, kissing every inch of the wide expanse of flesh that he could as he passed over it. First, he started on his neck, dragging his blunt teeth across the pulse of Oswald’s neck in such a way that a thoroughly embarrassing moan had slipped free of his lips and been rewarded with a knowing chuckle.

Then he moved lower and Oswald’s breath caught in his throat as Edward planted a series of small kisses along the swell of his stomach, the skin there mottled with stretchmarks and sparse hair.

The intimacy of it made his heart feel light and he was unable to stop his left hand as it crept free of the sheets to card through Edward’s hair, messing up the shock of red even further as he enjoyed the simple act.

No one had kissed him like this before as he was unsure he ever wanted it to end.

Melting into the touch, Edward pulled his lips free of Oswald’s skin – his upper chest gently brushing the tip of Oswald’s straining cock as he tilted his face up to meet Oswald’s eyes with his own emerald gaze.

“You okay, Oz?”

Not quite trusting his voice, Oswald could only nod as a small smile tilted the edges of his curled lips.

[clipartghosts]

SYMB210.BMF: The back of a sealed envelope. Father John flips it over and studies the airmail stamps and return address again. Brașov, Romania. Father John pours himself two fingers of a Speyside Scotch. He waits until the tumbler no longer shakes in his hand before downing it. He slices open the envelope with a kitchen knife and watches its contents spill to the floor. A boarding pass in his name and a plastic keycard, shiny and black.

[whiskyblog]

Glenfiddich 18 Year Old Single Malt Scotch Whisky is an outstanding representative of the traditional Speyside distillery Glenfiddich, which is world-renowned for its innovative strength and consistent quality. The 18-year-old bottling is part of the "Small Batch Reserve" series and represents elegance, depth, and masterful craftsmanship.

Glenfiddich 18 y.o. matures for 18 years in a combination of Oloroso sherry and American oak casks. The whiskies are then blended in small batches to ensure consistency and depth of flavor.

This extended maturation gives the whisky a remarkable balance of fruitiness, spice, and oak. The result is a particularly elegant and harmonious single malt.

Cask type : American oak casks, Oloroso sherry casks

[maltrunners]

Glenburgie 26 Year (1983), Signatory Vintage Cask 9812

Review by: Whiskery Turnip Distillery: Glenburgie. Bottler: Signatory Vintage. Region: Scotland/Speyside Single Malt. ABV: 55.2%. Cask Strength. Age: 26 years. Distilled on 26 Oct. 1983. Bottled on 2 Oct. 2010. Cask type: Hogshead. Nose: Industrial and fruity, machine grease and mineral oil, tractor tires, fruitier with time, strawberry guava, tinned pineapple, subtle cacao. Palate:…

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

The World’s Best Gins, According To The 2024 San Francisco World Spirits Competition

SH’s Wild Scottish Gin can win a gold medal but his bottle is not considered the World's Best Gin, according to the 2024 San Francisco World Spirits. SH’s favourite Spirits competition. For every brand of gin, 100 exceptional competing brands appear. This should help SH to understand he is not the only one in the level of competition.

Best in Class Gin Finalists 2024 KATELYN TUCKER PHOTOGRAPHY

The San Francisco World Spirits Competition (SFWSC) just released its finalists for its Best in Class awards, which will be revealed this October. If they made the finalist list, they are the crème of the crop. The finalists in their three most prominent gin groups are in no order.

Best in Class Gin Finalists

Dada Chapel Organic Dry Gin

Housed inside a converted convent in Ghent, Belgium, the team at Dada Chapel Distillery, led by a descendant of the Duvel Moortgat family of brewers, makes award-winning spirits using local raw materials. Their Organic Dry Gin eschews the trend of flavouring their gin with a wide array of botanicals. Instead, it only uses fresh-harvested juniper berries. The resultant liquid is herbaceous and crisp.

Hilbing London Dry Gin

The family behind the Hilbing Franke Distillery in Mendoza, Argentina, has been producing high-quality spirits from pure Andean Mountain water known for their delicate flavours for five generations. Their London Dry Gin blends Argentinean citrus, coriander, and juniper flavours with Malbec grapes from their vineyards to create an exceptionally smooth gin.

Ben Lomond Scottish Gin

Inspired by the majestic Ben Lomond Mountain in the Scottish Highlands, the team behind Ben Lomond Scottish Gin labours to produce gins that embody the rugged and adventurous spirit their country is known for. Their award-winning Scottish Gin uses a distinct blend of eleven botanicals to create a herbaceous liquid that's perfect straight up or in a cocktail.

Eight Lands Organic Speyside Gin

Yet another fantastic gin from Scotland, Eight Lands Organic Speyside Gin, is the result of a meticulous focus on producing clean organic spirits. Located in the heart of Scotch whisky country, this gin from Glenrinnes Distillery was created to win the hearts of traditional Martini drinkers with its balanced flavour profile and crisp aromatics.

Juniperus Gin

Hailing from the land Down Under, this flavour-packed gin from Prohibition Liquor Company delivers quite a hit with each sip. An ultra-premium craft gin, it's a classic London Dry Gin with layers of flavours that surface with each sip. Using exotic ingredients like Grains of Paradise and cassis bark, it is both complex yet approachable.

Best in Class Flavoured Gin Finalists for the 2024 KATELYN TUCKER PHOTOGRAPHY

Best in Class Flavoured Gin Final….

Settlers Spirits Yuzu Gin

Located in South Australia, Settlers Spirits produces a range of gins designed to showcase the wide array of flavours that gin can present to drinkers. Its Yuzu Gin is one such bottle. Made from Australia’s first commercial crop of Yuzu, a citrus fruit from Japan, China, and Tibet, it is brimming with bright flavours and has a clean finish.

Gervasi Spirits Pink Peppercorn Gin

The beauty of flavoured gins is that you can sip them straight or use them to punch up a cocktail. Gervasi Spirits Pink Peppercorn Gin is one such bottle. Made in Canton, Ohio, the home of the Pro Football Hall of Fame, it uses Pink and Szechuan Peppercorns to create an aromatic gin that delivers a spicy punch with each sip.

DiBaldo Spirits AU 79 Saffron Gin

DiBaldo Spirits must be onto something with their AU 79 Saffron Gin. It continually lands at the top of most major spirit competition award lists. Made in Emilia Romagna, Italy, it uses one of the world's most expensive spices, saffron, to craft an ideal balance between Mediterranean flavours and Far East exoticism. If you are into making off-the-wall cocktails, this is the bottle for you.

Luscious Spirits Raspberry Gin

When you name your company Luscious Spirits, you better deliver some over-the-top flavours. Crafted in small batches through vapor infusion, their Raspberry Gin delivers. Using a blend of 12 botanicals and a dose of fresh raspberries, it exhibits vibrant juniper and citrus tastes up front with a sweet, fruity finish.

Junipero Smoked Rosemary Gin

If you are a fan of craft gin, then chances are you have heard of Junipero Gin. Founded in 1996, Junipero Gin was one of the first craft gin makers in America. They helped reset drinkers' opinions on what gin could be. Still handmade in San Francisco, each of their bottles is loaded with flavours, perhaps none more so than their Smoked Rosemary Gin. An unfiltered gin bottled at 98.6 Proof, its distinctive smoky rosemary flavours make it unforgettable.

Best in Class Barrel Aged Gin Finalists for 2024 KATELYN TUCKER PHOTOGRAPHY

Best in Class Barrel Aged Gin Finalists

Starlight Distillery Simon’s 1794 Bottled-In-Bond American Dry Gin

When Starlight Distillery launched a little over a decade ago in Borden, Indiana, its primary goal was to produce brandies and ports using fresh fruits from the Huber Farm, of which it is a part. Luckily for drinkers, they branched out, and these days, they offer a wide array of spirits, many using ingredients from the farm, one of the largest fruit farms in the state. Their Simon's 1794 Barrel Finished Gin is one such product. A small batch of gin, its distinctive citrus and juniper flavours blend perfectly with spices from the barrel.

Crazy Eights Gold Oak Gin

One of the beautiful things about barrel-aged gins is their unpredictability. You never know quite what you will get until the first sip. Inspired by the film Kill Bill's murderous yakuza gang, the Crazy 88's gin from Hai Seas Distillery in Shanghai, China, delivers something killer. Made from a fusion of eight botanicals, Crazy Eights Gold Oak Gin is aged in the world's first whisky barrels made from French, American, and Chinese oak. It's overflowing with citrus and caramel flavours.

Nozawa Onsen Distillery Barrel-Aged Gin

Made at the newly opened Nozawa Onsen Distillery in the heart of mountainous Nagano, Japan, home of the 1998 Winter Olympics, this barrel-aged gin has yet to be released to the public. Entered into the competition as a sneak peek at what's yet to come, it wowed the judges. There is a reason for that: every gin they have released in their short lifetime has won widespread acclaim. Keep an eye out for this bottle when it is released; it's one to grab.

Corsair Distillery Barreled Gin

When Corsair Distillery opened as the first craft distillery in Nashville, Tennessee, since prohibition, they had lofty goals: to make some of the best craft spirits in America. Well, a pile of accolades accumulated over a decade and a half points to a goal achieved. Known for their whiskies and gins each of their bottles is one to search out. Their smokey with whisky undertones Barreled Gin is another bottle that is not ready for public release, but judging by its showing at the SFWSC, expect to see it soon.

Seabourne Distillery Barrel Aged Series-Pedro Ximenez Cask

When distillers decide to barrel age their gins, they often take big swings for the fences. Some work, some don't. Often, the products they do come up with are only available in limited releases or just at the distillery itself. Such is the case with this amazing gin from Seabourne Distillery. Located in the town of Noosa in Queensland, Australia, its gins often result in drinkers making a pilgrimage to the distillery to sample their wares. This barrel-aged gin is brimming with black pepper flavours and goes down sweet.

*Hudson Lindenberger - Forbes

Posted 4th June 2024

[2brothersdistillers]

Whiskey Gifts: Finding the Perfect Bottle for Every Occasion

Whiskey, with its rich history, distinct flavors, and timeless appeal, makes an ideal gift for every occasion. A thoughtfully picked bottle of whiskey may speak words, whether it's for a birthday, a wedding anniversary, a promotion, or simply a show of appreciation. However, with so many alternatives available, choosing the ideal whiskey gift can be difficult.

Know your recipient

The first step in choosing the ideal whiskey gift is to learn the recipient's preferences and inclinations. Are they an experienced whiskey enthusiast who values complexity and depth? Or are they fresh to the world of whiskey and want to try different kinds and flavors? Consider their preferred whiskey styles: smoky Islay scotches, silky bourbons, or complex Irish whiskeys. Knowing their tastes will help you choose the perfect bottle.

Consider the occasion

The occasion has a big impact on the sort of whiskey gift chosen. Premium bottles with age declarations or limited-edition releases are ideal for milestone occasions like birthdays and anniversaries. These unique bottles offer a touch of elegance and uniqueness to the occasion. For more relaxed parties or as a gesture of thanks, choose accessible and adaptable whiskeys that fit a wide range of tastes.

Explore variety

Whiskey comes in a multitude of types, each with its distinct attributes and flavor profiles. Scotch whiskey has a wide spectrum of flavors, from the smokey strength of Islay malts to the honeyed sweetness of Speyside whiskies. Bourbon whiskey, with its rich caramel aromas and silky finish, is another popular option. Explore the world of Irish whiskey, which is famed for its smoothness and complexity, as well as Japanese whisky, which is renowned for its artistry and precision.

Consider special editions

Special edition or limited-release whiskeys may make excellent presents, highlighting distinct taste characteristics and workmanship. Look for bottles commemorating major milestones or cooperation between distilleries. These bottles frequently come in wonderfully designed packaging, making them visually appealing presents that will wow.

Personalize the gift

Adding a personal touch to your whiskey gift might transform it from ordinary to amazing. Consider engraving the bottle with a personal message or the recipient's name to make the present truly unforgettable. For a more full whiskey experience, couple it with matching accessories like whiskey glasses, a decanter, or a tasting diary.

Budget considerations

Whiskey is available at several pricing points, allowing you to pick the right bottle within your budget. While premium and uncommon bottles might be more expensive, many cheap alternatives provide great quality and flavor. Set a budget for your present and look into possibilities within that range, ensuring that you locate a bottle that suits both your budgetary needs and the recipient's tastes.

Seek expert advice

If you're unclear about which whiskey to pick, don't be afraid to ask for assistance from competent people. Visit specialist liquor stores with skilled personnel who can provide recommendations depending on your needs. Attend whiskey tastings or events to try different types and learn more about the intricacies of whiskey enjoyment. Online resources, such as whiskey review websites and forums, can provide useful information and recommendations.

Plan ahead

Finding the ideal whiskey gift requires time and effort, so prepare ahead of time to give yourself enough time to study your alternatives and make your decision. Consider ordering the bottle ahead of time, especially if it is a special edition or limited-release whiskey that is likely to be in great demand. This relieves last-minute worry and guarantees that your present arrives on time for the event.

Choosing the best whiskey gift needs careful consideration of the recipient's interests, the occasion, and your budget. By looking into several possibilities, customizing the present, and getting professional guidance when necessary, you may locate a bottle of whiskey that will please and impress. Whether it's a rare single malt Scotch, a small-batch bourbon, or an exquisite Japanese whisky, a carefully chosen bottle of whiskey is a present that will be treasured and savored for years to come.

If you are looking for a distillery near me, or 2 Brothers bourbon, James Two Brothers Distillery is the best option. They offer small boutique-style production of beverage-grade spirit alcohol with simple principles; hard work and honesty. Contact them by writing to paulj@2brothersdistillers.com or call at 352-291-0585.

[alexthomas01]

Wine, Scotch and Whiskey Barrels Market Size, Trends and forecast 2034

  Barrels have been used for centuries in the production and aging of alcoholic beverages, particularly whiskey, scotch, and wine.   Traditionally made of oak wood, these barrels are more than just places to store goods; they are vital components that have a significant impact on the final product's flavor, color, aroma, and overall quality.   Since ancient times, barrels have been used to age alcohol, and their continued use in the modern beverage industry is proof of their unique function in this process.   Oak, especially American and European oak, continues to be the most widely used wood type due to its permeability, durability, and the complex compounds it releases into the beverage as it ages.  

According to SPER market research, ‘Global Wine, Scotch, And Whiskey Barrels Market - By Type, By Application, By Sales Channel - Regional Outlook, Competitive Strategies and Segment Forecast to 2033’ state that the Global Wine, Scotch, And Whiskey Barrels Market Size is predicted to reach 3.34 billion by 2034 with a CAGR of 4.76%. 

Drivers: 

The growing demand for premium aged spirits, rising global alcohol consumption, and the emergence of craft distilleries are all driving growth in the global market for wine, scotch, and whiskey barrels.   Wooden barrels, especially oak ones, are crucial to the maturation and flavor enhancement of premium aged products, which consumers are increasingly choosing.   Barrell aging is now an essential step in the production process because of the special chemical interactions that occur between the beverage and the barrel wood, including the infusion of tannins, vanillin, and other aromatic compounds.   Custom barrels with distinctive aging qualities are becoming more and more in demand as a result of the growing trend of artisanal and small-batch production. 

Request a Free Sample Report: https://www.sperresearch.com/report-store/wine-scotch-and-whiskey-barrels-market?sample=1

Restraints: 

The global market for wine, scotch, and whiskey barrels is confronted with several noteworthy obstacles, notwithstanding the increasing demand.   High-quality oak wood, especially American and European oak, which are perfect for barrel aging because of their unique chemical characteristics, is becoming increasingly scarce and expensive.   Sustainable oak sourcing has become more challenging due to deforestation and environmental concerns, which has raised production costs and caused supply shortages.   Furthermore, producers of barrels and beverages, especially those looking to enter new markets, face significant obstacles due to the strict international regulations governing the production, labeling, and trade of alcohol.   Distillery and winery operations worldwide have been impacted by the pandemic's aftermath, as global supply chain disruptions have complicated logistics and delayed barrel shipments. The market for whiskey barrels, scotch, and wine is anticipated to be dominated by North America.   Customers favor aged spirits, and the area is home to many wineries and distilleries. Some significant market players are Independent Stave Company, Kelvin Cooperage, Seguin Cooperage, Seguin Moreau, Speyside Cooperage.  

For More Information, refer to below link: –   

Wine, Scotch and Whiskey Barrels Market Share

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[whiskyblog]

The Glen Spey 12 y.o. from the Flora & Fauna Collection is a single malt Scotch whisky from the Speyside region. It is part of the famous Flora & Fauna series, which was launched by Diageo (formerly United Distillers) to highlight lesser-known distilleries in Scotland, whose production mainly goes into blends.

The Glen Spey Distillery was founded in 1878 in Rothes, in the heart of Speyside. It was originally an oatmeal mill before being converted into a whisky distillery. Much of Glen Spey's production is traditionally used for blends, particularly the famous J&B blended Scotch whisky. The distillery is known for its light and delicate style, which is achieved through the use of purifier pipes in the stills. These create additional reflux, resulting in a lighter spirit.

[yushiang911]

格蘭莫雷推出「楓糖桶熟成」烈酒，突破創新卻不能冠上「蘇格蘭威士忌」之名

知名蘇格蘭威士忌品牌 Glen Moray（格蘭莫雷）近日在斯佩塞精神節（Spirit of Speyside）上發表了兩款令人矚目的限量版「烈酒」。這兩款創新的產品，歷經獨特的加拿大楓糖漿桶熟成工藝，展現了該品牌自1897年以來作為「橡木桶探險家」的精神。然而，由於嚴格的蘇格蘭威士忌法規限制，它們無法被正式標示為蘇格蘭威士忌，而僅能標示為「烈酒」。 這項楓糖漿桶熟成是格蘭莫雷125年品牌歷史上的首次嘗試。此舉進一步鞏固了品牌在研究不同木材對風味影響方面的聲譽。這兩款烈酒最初在傳統的美國橡木桶中陳年，隨後被轉移到曾裝載過加拿大楓糖漿的橡木桶中進行最後的熟成。 只不過，根據蘇格蘭威士忌協會（Scotch Whisky Association,…