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salingers · 2 months ago

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october's end.

[joel miller x f!reader]. summary: a filthy halloween night with your dad's best friend, joel miller. [you get him to briefly wear a ghostface mask. enjoy]. warnings: 18+ mdni. age gap. alcohol. au. begging. cream pie. dirty talk. dom!joel. fingering. jealous!joel. language. masked!joel. no outbreak. no use of 'y/n'. praising. smut. use of 'good girl'. use of 'slut'. unprotected piv. word count: [about] 3,800. a/n: hi! debut, written for @mermaidgirl30's halloween writing challenge. cover by me, divider by @saradika. @saradika-graphics. <3

Everything’s bigger in Texas, including Halloween. Your childhood neighborhood is locally televised each October’s end, due to every home’s enthusiastic participation. There’s an annual stoppage of traffic for the singular evening’s festivities, permitting only costumed bodies to roam the gated community’s residential roads.

Branches draped in gauzy webs. Yards engulfed in artificial fog. A beloved holiday tradition, predating the tailend of the seventies, when Dad and Joel were elementary aged and wielding pillowcases of candies. Now, they’re fifty-somethings, bemoaning mutual back pain and cursing pesky lawn decorations.

“Here,” Joel gruffs, while individually sliding Dad two Reese’s pumpkins, from across the kitchen’s counter. “Protein break. ‘S four grams.”

Dad swipes them both up, before confirming that statement by thumbing one’s wrapper, “That ain’t bad.”

You’re quietly laughing at their supposed refueling, while stooping behind the fridge’s door and scanning the moistened shelves. There. A seasonal beer, from your favorite brewery in Austin. It’s comfortably predictable, returning home for Halloween; From Dad purchasing your favorite autumnal ales, to Joel Miller’s ruggedness.

You properly right yourself. Then, using your waist, nudge the appliance’s door shut, “Dad, where’s your bottle opener?”

Dad’s phone abruptly drones, reverberating against granite and interrupting your question; He grimaces at the caller’s illuminated identity.

You guess, “Ghostface?”

Dad laughs, before emphasizing, “Worse. My neediest client.” He abandons his barstool, continuing, “Actin’ like buildin’ up in Waco makes ‘er Joanna Gaines.” Dad apologetically nods toward you, “Joel. Will ‘ya?”

Joel’s scruffy chin tips upwards, directing you, “C’mere.”

Something’s brewing, once Dad vacates the vicinity. Your forced proximity to Joel is newly palpable; Tonight’s different. You’re obedient, in approaching him. Joel doesn’t stop staring. The bottle’s neck is being strangled, under your dominant hand. You can’t completely ward off an image of taking him into your palm.

Your minimal passage to his barstool seemed slow-motioned, almost. You’re not sure. Time’s just apparently lengthier, under Joel’s browned gaze.

Joel grunts, fingering his carabiner of keys, attempting to sift out his bottle opener keychain, “You playin’ Michael Meyers, ‘gain? ‘Round one night, only?”

You amusedly scoff, “Keepin’ track?”

Joel shrugs, “Eight days, in eight years.”

You’re genuinely surprised that Joel’s noted your absence. Maybe, Dad revealed that specific number, correlating to your sparse appearances in Austin; Well, it could’ve been that Dad mentioned to Joel about how since your high school’s graduation, you’ve only managed to visit home yearly. That’s just basic math. Right?

You stammer, “Uh huh. ‘S my favorite holiday.”

Joel hums, before abruptly wrapping his calloused palm around the entirety of your hand and the beer bottle’s width, “Hm. ‘N that your favorite beer?”

You’re momentarily silent, muted by Joel’s warmth. A sizable hand, roughened from decades of hard labor. The tips of his delectably thick fingers begin tightening at your wrist, securing his hold as he’s standing himself up.

Even fully seated, Joel’s intimidating in size. Him standing toe-to-toe with you? That’s another story. His construction boots are weathered and worn; They would be comically large, in comparison to your measly-sized sneakers, but nothing’s funny about Joel Miller’s body mere inches from yours.

You reply by mustering an eager nod; And, whether that’s in response to Joel’s prior question pertaining your liking of the beer, or merely an approval of his nearness to you? You haven’t decided.

Joel rasps, “Anythin’ else?” He’s pulling your combined hands downward, to his waist. The carabiner’s remained attached to his belt’s loop, “That ‘ya favor?”

You’re struggling to think of something witty to retort. Because, the frayed seam of Joel’s zipper is right there. He’s deftly notching the bottle’s cap inside of the opener’s teeth; The beer crisply hisses, releasing any contained pressure.

Joel whispers, “What, darlin’? Bat got your tongue?”

You defeatedly laugh, “Somethin’ like that.”

He grins, carefully releasing you, “Taste it.”

You harshly gulp, “S–Sorry? Oh, right. T–The beer.”

Joel agrees, “That’s right.” Then, darkly teases, “Y’know, that pretty mind ‘a yours is boundin’ for the gutter.”

He crosses his arms against his broad chest, the canvas fabric of his Carhartt jacket drawing taut. Joel’s now cocking his head, sending his gaze along the pathway from the glass vessel that you’re feebly holding, to the lower lip that you’re inadvertently biting; Daring you.

You’re feignedly bold, “Meet ‘ya there.”

You drink, even if it’s primarily to keep yourself from further stuttering. At first, it’s an adequate enough distraction; The alcohol’s frigid in temperature, soothing to the high-strung tendons of your throat, from the inside-out. Then, you’re curiously drawn to Joel’s own gulping throat, and that transient composure of yours is gone.

Joel’s devotedly watching you, his glare heady and sensual. His Adam’s apple jerks, moving atop the clenched muscles and corded veins of his neck. You’re somewhat tipping back, gathering your final mouthful, for now; You’ve drained three-fourths of it, by the time that you’ve halted your sipping.

Then, Joel’s thumb darts out, before smoothing against your glistening mouth. He drawls, “Got it lookin’ real good. Let’s see.”

You’re only narrowly audible, “Oh? Joel.”

Joel’s tongue, deliciously large and scrubbed pink, strokes his finger. He groans, “Mm. Ain’t sure. Need ‘t sample it from the source.”

You inwardly whimper, “Yeah?”

You’re foolishly tempted to extend him the ambered bottle itself, because surely Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, would identify that as the ‘source’. Not your parted, wanting lips. Like Joel’s read your hesitant mind, he reassuringly pins your hands behind your back, easily dismissing the beer; A singular hand of his own, dwarfing the pair of your wrists.

Joel’s ghosting your lips, “Yeah.”

For good measure, Joel lightly moans, sucking his dampened digit. Humming around the pumpkin spiced suds, lapping up any residual taste from his finger. Arms restrained, spine straightened; Your chest’s rising urgently.

Joel’s own chest, delicately hairy below his threadbare t-shirt, is an odd inch away. A desperate heat’s begun permeating your lower abdomen; Achingly unfurling, taking up residency in your cunt.

Of course, it’s then that Dad’s barrelling over, having withdrawn from his nearby office, “Sorry ‘bout that, kid. Get ‘er open?”

You’re coughing out, “Y–Yep.” Then, “Thanks, Joel.”

Dropping your wrists, Joel winks, “Oh. ‘M pleasure.”

Your incriminating closeness to Joel goes unrecognized by Dad; Seeing as, Joel’s wide shoulders completely obscure you from view.

Dad sighs, “Gee, there ain’t no escapin’ this shiplap.”

Joel immediately laughs, casually reclaiming his prior barstool. The jarring segue from Joel’s flirting with you, to his joking with Dad, is absolutely disorientating. You’re fidgeting, repeatedly and silently tapping your foot. You can’t do Joel here; You’ll settle for doing last-minute Halloween preparations.

You blurt, “Goin’ to start organizin’ the candy. ‘S all in the garage, Dad?”

Dad assuredly nods, “Sure is. ‘Cept these.” He chuckles, gathering the forgotten wrappers from his earlier ‘protein break’ with Joel.

You remind him, “Don’t forget to refill the fog tanks.”

Dad, who seemingly had forgotten, regretfully snaps his fingers, “What would I do without ‘ya?” He’s bragging to Joel, “Look at ‘er.”

Joel agreeably nods. Eyeing you, “Good girl.”

Because, Dad and Joel are career contractors, who are simultaneously life-long friends and next-door neighbors, it’s only right that they’ve done an elaborate, joint Halloween for three decades; Locally dubbed the ‘Construction Fright’.

A (questionably) age-appropriate spread of horror, featuring thrifted tools that bludgeon and dismember an assortment of plastic skeletons. Hard hats, faux-bloodied and stabbed with rusted nails. Construction tape, riddled in spiderwebs.

A half-dozen, battered wheelbarrows, brimming with chocolate candies; Three brown ones, carrying Hershey’s, Rolo, and Tootsie Roll. Three orange ones, containing every imaginable variant of Reese’s.

You’ve already been working for nearly an hour; Arranging the color-coordinated barrows of candy. You’re jamming the recycling bin’s lid shut, overtop the cardboard and plastic wrappings of king-sized bars, when the entry door’s opened.

Dad’s entering the garage, “Sun’s settin’ soon, kid. ‘Oughta get dressed.” He lazily squeezes you in an impromptu side-hug, “Thanks, for helpin’.”

You breathily sigh, “Mhm. Oh, I need ‘t light the Jack-O-Lanterns.”

Joel appears, insisting, “Go on, darlin’. I’ll get ‘em sweatin’ for ‘ya.”

You’re thinking, ‘That’s ridiculously slutty of him to say’, when Joel continues, this time addressing Dad, “Hey. Phone’s ringin’ over ‘gain.”

Dad sighs, “Got ‘t be kiddin’ me.” Then, grumbles, “Sure hopin’ it’s Ghostface.” He grins, lightly pinching your elbow.

You giggle, “C’mon. She can’t be that bad.”

Dad shrugs, smiling before swiftly jogging up the garage’s concrete steps; When Dad’s fully retreated inside, and the door’s naturally swung shut, Joel doesn’t waste any time pinning your body against it.

Joel whispers, “Bet ‘ya find that this pussy’s wet ‘f me, when you’re undressin’ it.” His jeaned, muscular thigh’s nudging your legs ajar.

You airily groan, “P–Please. Fuckin’ kiss me.”

Joel grins, wedging his ample thigh’s sturdy surface against your beating cunt. He kisses you; Joel Miller fuckin’ kisses you. He’s grabbing your face, thumbing your cheekbones. His lengthy fingers, scraping your skull.

His tongue’s deeply delving, eagerly exploring your mouth’s every crevasse. You can’t breathe efficiently or think coherently. Everything’s Joel. His graying beard, raking your chin; A woodsy scent, like that of the hardware store’s lumber aisles, exuding from his clothing.

You’re moaning, “Ngh.” Then, ripping at the silvery hair that’s curling against the nape of his sun-freckled neck, “More.”

Joel’s grunting, “Fuck. Need ‘t stop.” He can’t stop, and sucks your bottom lip, once more. Then, “H–Hear ‘im? He’s gainin’ on us.”

Sure enough, Dad’s approaching. It’s damn-near impossible to quit rutting along Joel’s denimed, upper leg. You’re whining, “Need ‘ya.”

Joel’s panting, “T–Tonight, darlin’.” He arousingly whispers, “All night. When the porch light’s out, sneak over.” Then, darker and deeper, “Repeat it.”

You repeat, “Tonight. When the porch light’s out, sneak over.”

You’re admittedly distracted, during the evening’s trick-or-treating segment. You understand that nothing’s allowed to appear awry around Dad, but Joel’s playing casual too well. You shouldn’t overthink, but it’s torturous; That he’s apparently unaffected. Drinking with Dad and Tommy. Never really staring at you.

Joel’s (conveniently) costumed as himself every Halloween, but himself during working hours; A leathered tool belt, cinching his tender waist. A backwards Filson hat, tamping his unkempt curls. His dirtiest ‘white’ t-shirt; The neckline’s absurdly tattered and torn, an array of holes displaying his body’s coarse hair.

Midland’s country cover of ‘Wicked Game’ is emitting from neighboring speakers. You can’t resist likening the song’s drumming pattern to your own heart’s pulsating rhythm; Yearning for Joel’s attention. Then, Dad’s whistling for your attention.

Dad’s pointing, “Look, kid. Your ‘ol boyfriend, Nick. He’s fuckin’ Ghostface.” Dad humorously roars, standing, “See ‘im? H–Hold on.”

You’re avidly protesting, but Dad’s already approaching Nick, who’s not wearing, but holding his hooded mask; Fingers cupping the elongated, rubbery chin. There’s nothing inherently wrong about him; He (morally) should be your holiday hook-up, not your dad’s best friend. It’s too bad.

Joel snipes, “Dick?”

You tut, “It’s Nick.”

Joel’s feigning understanding, “Oh, Prick.”

You’re unsure what’s initiated this potent sexual tension, but it’s consumed your every thought this Halloween; While, Joel’s every word is loaded. His irritated sarcasm’s gunned your way. Any bickering’s uncommon, for the pair of you. You’re hoping that Tommy’s too busy proffering candy to notice.

Dad’s returned, towing Nick, “Weren’t we just talkin’ ‘bout him, kid? So funny.” Dad, and his dorky penchant for inside-jokes.

Nick cluelessly smiles, “Hi, you.”

You politely reply, “Hi, yourself.”

Nick’s extending his hand, summoning you from your designated seat, “Got ‘t see this costume.” Then, he’s declaring you, “Stunning.”

You’re incredulously laughing, “They’re bloodied overalls.”

Nick grins, persisting, “Love ‘em. Also, this apron’s awesome.” He’s thumbing your accessory’s front, tracing the logo, “Carhartt girl, huh?”

You’re aiming to get under Joel’s skin with, “Scream girl, too.” You inspect Nick’s black robe, feeling his arm’s draping sleeve.

Oh, Joel Miller’s jealous. He’s rolling his earthy-toned eyes; Aggressively peeling his beer’s damp label, while instigating Dad, “Hearin’ this?”

Dad’s indifferent, shrugging. He’s always approved of Nick for you; He’s Texan, and plays Minor League Baseball. That’ll do it.

Nick’s pleading, “Let’s please walk ‘round, sweep the neighborhood?”

Joel snarks, “Hell. Reckon he’s recruitin’ for Neighborhood Watch?”

Nick’s nervously smiling, having not heard Joel’s dig, but surely hearing Dad and Tommy’s abrupt snickering.

You kindly respond, “Let’s. Love seein’ the decorations.”

It’s nine-thirty. Your street’s grown habitually sparse; Toddlers, having resigned to stringent bedtimes. Teens, having retreated to erupting parties.

You decipher Joel’s looming silhouette; His rocking chair’s creaking, upon the dimmed porch’s planks. A gleaming tumbler of (presumably) whiskey is resting against his crossed leg, the glass winking at you.

Joel’s dragging his index finger’s edge against his groomed mustache, thumbing his angrily tightened jaw. He rasps, “Ain’t walk ‘ya home?”

You’re ascending his porch’s tread, “Didn’t need that. Told ‘im so.” Then, untying your apron’s chaotic knot, “Uncross your leg, Joel.”

Joel’s pleasingly pliant; He warns, “That’s the only order that I’m takin’ tonight.” His lap’s deliciously spreading, “Get ‘t drawin’ the blinds.”

The anticipation’s wetting you. You’re immediately scampering along the porch’s perimeter, rolling down every privacy blind; Joel’s patiently swigging his auburn liquor. You whimper, “A–Anythin’ else?”

Joel’s rolling the wick of his adjacent kerosene lantern; Thrusting his opened lap, scrounging his Zippo lighter from an anterior pant pocket. His hand’s arousingly veined, while flicking the lighter’s flint wheel.

He belatedly replies, “Drop your apron. Undo your overalls.”

You’ve dropped the apron, and something’s spilling out from the largest pocket; Joel’s deeply exhaling, “Explain that.”

The lamp’s emitting faint light, fire illuminating his hardening expression. He’s so scarily sexy. You’re inching nearer, but Joel hoists his palm, stopping you.

You embarrassedly gulp, “N–Nick’s mask. Asked me ‘t hold it. He never wore it.”

Joel’s impatient, waving, “And?”

You’re tentatively unhooking your denimed straps, gently uttering, “W–Would ‘ya? Wear it?”

Joel’s mildly surprised, “Oh?” Deciding, “Bring it here. On your knees.”

You instantly kneel, before gathering up the discarded disguise using your teeth. You’re crawling to Joel, crossing the porch’s dully-lit surface. The bib upon your overalls undone; The garment’s buckling loops clinking.

Joel involuntarily moans, “Ngh. Dirty fuckin’ girl.” His index finger’s pumping from his balled up fist, signaling you.

Your pussy’s thumping, because of his commanding, curling digit. You’re itching to suck it. You need anything of Joel’s inside of you.

You’ve gradually reached Joel; You’re being caged in-between his lengthy legs. Joel forcibly pinches your face, removing the mask from your bite’s grasp. The item’s resultantly spat, against his abutted groin.

He’s astonished at the filthy sight, rustling, “How ‘bout that.” You’re resting on your haunches, while Joel praises, “Good girl.”

Joel’s abruptly leaning downward, before hungrily lifting your body’s entirety along his own. He’s immediately kissing you, sinking against the rocking chair’s curved spine; The porch’s cedar ground sighs, creakily duetting with Joel’s groans.

You’re practically siphoning the remnant whiskey from his tongue’s cushioned pad; Your mouth’s rabidly sucking, while your waist’s desperately grinding.

Joel’s bypassing your denimed, disoriented trousers; His palm’s greedily grasping your back’s arched column. His remaining arm, ladling your ass. Then, Joel’s effortlessly hauling your goosebumped figure upward; The rocking chair’s momentum being an assistant. The mask’s wedged in-between your upright bodies.

Joel breathes, “T–The lamp. Hang tight.” You’re licking Joel’s partially bearded throat; He’s briefly hunching, responsibly lowering the wick, consequently extinguishing the flame. Your quartet of limbs, wrapping his flexing torso.

You’re whispering, “You’re so big and strong, Joel.”

He amusedly sighs, “Yeah?” Promising, “Ain’t seen nothin’.”

Then, Joel’s roughly stamping your body against the front door’s exterior; His bulge swelling, pinning your pussy. The entry knob’s blindly twisted. Joel’s heavy-footed steps are reverberated, crunching his home’s metallic threshold.

First, Joel carelessly clears his entry way’s waist-heighted table. Juggling you, while his tanned arm’s sweeping everything off; A ceramic, coffee-stained mug of loose change’s completely shattered. Second, Joel harshly kicks his anterior door shut; There’s an impressive boot print, left behind.

Joel’s panting, “Tell me ‘t stop?”

You’re begging, “K–Keep goin’.”

He hums, “Hm. Need it, darlin’?” Joel’s hurriedly planting you upon the table’s cleared crest, kissing your nodding throat. Agreeing, “Yeah. You do.”

It’s dizzyingly hot; Joel gruffly ripping off your mussed overalls, easily tugging off your slip-on sneakers. He’s lobbing them across the room, away from the mess of coins and shards. You’re noticing the Ghostface mask, under his unmoving bicep.

Joel’s noticing you, “This what ‘ya want?” He’s hesitantly thumbing the mask’s gaping jaw. “Ain’t scared?”

You quietly say, “Like ‘t be scared.” You’re reaching upward, prying off his hat; His hair’s deliciously gray and tousled. “Here.”

Joel’s flinging his accessory away. Then, handing you the hooded, horror mask, “Go ‘head.” He warns, “Wearin’ it ‘till you’re comin’. Understand?”

You’re stroking his untidy hair, readying him, “Won’t be long.” You murmur, “S–Soppin’ for ‘ya.”

Joel’s grunting, “Fuck’s sake.” Kissing you, in-between threatening, “Filthy. ‘Oughta edge ‘ya. Talkin’ like that.”

He impatiently rings your wrists; You’re positioning the mask properly overhead. The draping fabric’s hitting Joel’s colossal shoulders.

Your pulse’s hammering, “Oh.”

The mask’s milky-colored expression, surveying you. Stark, against the setting of Joel’s unlighted home. His index finger’s impulsively traveling your body; Dragging over your bottom lip’s dampened flesh. Then, carnally downard, riding your throat. Fingering your jugular’s delicate divet. Hooking your undershirt’s airy collar.

Joel’s taunting, “Heart’s racin’.”

You’re anguishly rutting against his console table’s lacquered top. You need to be touched. You beg, “J–Joel. Oh, Joel.”

Joel’s eerily tilting his head, “Pussy’s racin’ like that, too?” Whispering, “Ain’t it?”

You’re deliriously horny, “Yes.”

He’s humming, “Hm. Shirt’s got ‘t go, first.” His unoccupied hand’s rummaging his hind pocket, while, “Reckon that my knife’ll work?”

You’re pleading, “C–Cut it off.”

Then, Joel’s brandishing his utility knife. The blade’s expertly flicked outward. He urges, “Try ‘t hold still.”

Joel Miller’s carving your fucking shirt; His blade’s blunt edge skimming your sternum. He’s effortlessly halved it, forging an impromptu vest. He’s instantaneously shoving the garment overtop your rigid shoulders.

The knife’s frigid handle brushes your tapered nipple; Joel’s awaiting permission, hovering your underwear’s waistline. You’re nodding, kneading his large shoulders. His finger’s hitching the material, before his blade’s cutting it.

Snipping the remaining side, Joel grunts, “Cunt need stuffin’?” He’s pocketing your saturated underwear and his retracted knife, “I know it’s wet ‘nough to take two fingers.”

You’ve been fantasizing about Joel entering you all Halloween. And, finally; He does. He’s groaning, “S–Swallowin’ both of ‘em. ‘Jus like that?”

Your angling head’s hitting the paneled wall. You’re obscenely squelching around his battering digits. You belatedly respond, “JoelJoelJoelJoel.”

Joel’s roughened wrist’s repeatedly rubbing your beating clit. You’re clenching speechlessly around him, innately meeting every re-entry. Your spine’s warming; Your stomach’s taut.

Your arousal’s watering his driving hand; His palm’s pooling. Joel’s incessantly steady. Praising, “Comin’ up. Doin’ good.”

You’re gasping, “There. Oh, right there.”

The instant that you’re coming, Joel’s yanking off his hindering mask. His beard’s patchy and sweaty. He grins, “Man ‘a my word.”

Then, Joel’s amused mouth’s pounding upon your own; He’s desperately inhaling your breaking moans. Licking your teeth’s underside.

You’re abundantly squirting, as Joel’s uncorking your cunt. Your spotting vision’s correcting leisurely. You’re languidly sighing; Breathing deeply.

He’s genuinely insane for drinking you from his cupped palm. Then, Joel’s mouthing his soggy fingers; Hitting knuckle. You’re blurting, “Need ‘t fuck.”

Joel’s arching his aging brow; Rasping, “Ask nicely.” Then, he’s towing your body overtop his broad shoulder. Spanking you, “Greedy fuckin’ girl.”

You’re nakedly suspended, Joel’s bicep rippling below your ass. He’s entering his living room; Carefully placing you across his cognac-colored sectional. You’re propping upon the chaise’s leathered cushions. You whine, “Please, Joel.”

Joel’s tutting, “Better’n that.”

You supply, “Pretty please?”

He’s gradually moving nearer; His denim-clad shins, butting the couch’s edge. Joel’s unhurriedly thumbing his belt’s loop, painfully prolonging his removing it. You’re wetting and writhing against his furniture’s fabric.

Joel’s unimpressed, “C’mon.”

Shedding his accessory; Working his zipper. His acting arm’s so freckled, tanned, veined. Joel’s yanking his t-shirt overhead, before subsequently revealing an appetizing, softened tummy. His happy trail’s graying and wiry.

You’re begging, “Joel. Please.”

He’s winking, “Good ‘nough.”

Every sound’s tantalizing; Joel’s boots and pants, thumping across the carpet. His bare, bulky thigh’s abruptly rubbing against your naked pussy; Then, Joel’s mirroring your body’s horizontal position. Mounting you.

Your arousal’s drenching his underwear’s front; His length’s largely tenting the humid material, “Beggin’ like that. Fuckin’ slut.”

You’re involuntarily panting, when Joel’s finally and fully undressed. His cock’s deliciously girthy. The tip’s engorged, reddened and seeping; Erecting far beyond his belly’s button.

You’re whimpering, “PleasePleasePlease.”

Joel grins, “Cunt’s quiverin’. Feelin’ that?”

You desperately nod, “Need you ‘t feel it.”

Joel’s immediately pistoning his fleshy waist; His cock’s knocking your cervix’s wall. His rough thrusting’s fastly inching your bodies upward, until your head’s rearing the sofa’s supple tailend.

He whispers, “Warm ‘nough?”

You gasp, “C–Cock’s perfect.”

Joel’s inaudibly responding; Ramming your hand, palming your pelvis. You’re feeling his cock, below your abdomen’s exterior. He’s interlocking your fingers; His own swallowing yours; Pressing. You’re practically tracing his bulbous, twitching tip.

He’s praising, “Takin’ me well.”

Joel’s bottoming-out, pounding steadily; His bloated, weighty balls welting your taint. Your clit’s puffing, from his pubic bone’s rhythmic route. Dementedly fucking you. You’re moaning, “Ah. F–Fuck.”

He murmurs, “Cunt’s gulpin’ me.” Joel’s hooking your knee’s underside, before lugging it overtop his broad shoulder’s slope, “Needy fuckin’ hole.”

You’re stammering, “Ngh. M–Mm. RightThereRightThere.”

Then, Joel’s angling deeper, differently; Laying his body’s robust weight against your languid, vertical leg. Your foot’s achingly surpassing your head. His chest hair’s graying and saturated; Scraping you.

Your pussy’s overwhelmingly spasming. Joel’s messily tonguing your nipple’s peak; His mustache’s prickling the sensitive skin. You’re tugging at his hair’s curling strands, “J–Joel. Close.”

Joel’s echoing your prior words, “Meet ‘ya there.”

You’re shockingly surprised, that Joel’s remembered the momentary retort; Your faux-bold response and pumpkin spiced alcohol. That’s it. You’re blindly coming. His cock’s densely brimming your contracting hole; Hammering you.

Your pussy’s pornographically sloshing. Joel whimpers, “A–’Atta girl. Drenchin’ it.” Then, “Comin’ inside. ‘M snipped. Yeah?”

You’re immediately kissing him. Palming his beard’s rugged stubble. Sucking his tongue’s pink pores; Tasting your arousal’s heady flavoring.

His climaxing moan’s roaring down your throat; Cum rapidly spurting, coating your cunt. You’re rubbing his rolling eye’s crinkled grooves. His forehead’s tanned and wrinkled. Joel’s especially gorgeous, while cumming hard.

You’re pouring, when Joel’s unplugging you. He’s breathlessly cursing, “Fuckin’ hot.” Standing, “Gettin’ towels. Need anythin’ else? Water?”

You’re beginning to respond, when Joel’s unexpectedly bending; Kissing you. You smile, tapping your bottom lip, “What’s that for?”

Joel’s embarrassedly pointing, toward the nearby microwave’s blinking clock. He explains, “Ten thirty-one on October thirty-first. ‘Dunno. Good luck? Make ‘a wish or somethin’.”

You’re actually dumbfounded, “Oh? You’re absurdly cute.”

Joel frowns, “Ain’t allowed ‘t call me that. ‘Specially while leakin’ my seed.” He’s nakedly turning, preparing to walk, “Water?”

You’re pulling Joel’s hand, “Wait. Want ‘t hear your wish.”

He gulps, “That… You’ll be visitin’ home on Thanksgivin’.”

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 6 months ago

Text

Trying**

Based off of the following request where Y/N is desperate for Harry to breed her already!

Warnings: breeding kink, objectification (female to male), sex (p in v), oral sex (fem receiving), cum play, breast play, dirty talk, cnc kink, free use kink, daddy kink

WC: 6.8K

When you met Harry it was the summer of the start of your masters program. You were brand new to town and had taken the recommendation of a few of the students from the previous cohort about some good, local spots you needed to visit. One of these places happened to be a brewery in the heart of the Arts District in Downtown LA, Styles’ Brewing Co.. You’d moved down to LA one month before the semester at USC started and you hadn’t really made friends yet so you decided to just go and check the place out. Worse case scenario you didn’t meet anyone cool and just enjoy the pleasure of your own company. It was a Tuesday evening when you’d strolled in. The sun was setting soon and despite the slight breeze, it was still quite hot so you were glad you’d decided on wearing a dress. And when you got up to the business, you smiled at the funky, little bar. The decor inside was like 70’s post modern theme, it instantly put a smile on your face. It was nice and cool inside and Al Green was playing over the speakers. There were a handful of people in there already, so you glanced around as you walked up to the register and looked up to the menu.

“Welcome in! If you have any questions about our selection, let me know.” The smooth British voice offered and your eyes glanced down and met the prettiest set of green eyes you’d ever seen.

“Ummm, actually s’my first time here.” You explained and his smile widened, revealing his teeth, the way his two front teeth extended a bit lower than their neighbors gave him a boyish charm though he was clearly older than you. He looked really good though, he had to be like five or six years older.

“Well that’s great! I’m Harry.” He greeted you cheerfully.

“Hello, I’m Y/N.” You said with a friendly smile.

“Well Y/N, are you a beer drinker?”

“Kinda…not really. Sorry.” You confessed a bit bashfully.

“That’s alright.” He chuckled, “Just seeing where you’re at with beer.” He assured you, “I know we have quite a large selection up there. So if you’re not sure where to start or what you might like, we can talk little bit more about your taste and I can give you a little flight of samples so that you can narrow down your options.” He offered and you were pleasantly surprised.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you!” You smiled, “That’d be great because I am a little out of my depth here. And honestly, I can pay.” You assured him. Just then someone else walked up behind you in the line and he looked past you.

“Hey, H!” One of the person’s behind you greeted him cheerfully and he smiled.

“Hey, guys.”

“Ummm, you can help them first since I’m still figuring it out.”

“That’s kind of you.” He smiled, “Have a seat at the bar and I’ll be with you in just a minute.” He instructed and you nodded and did just that.

After a couple of minutes he was chatting with you again, asking about what you liked and disliked about beer. What kinds of flavor profiles you gravitated towards, and things of that nature before he pulled the samples for you. He talked you through each one, he even swapped two of them out upon receiving your feedback on the previous ones until finally you found the one. It was the “Sippin’ Pretty”, a guava and elderberry sour. It smelled amazing and tasted even better. When he realized that you were there alone he spent most of his time hanging around, checking in on you. It got a little busier around 8 o’clock, but you were on your second beer by then and just people watching as Harry and another person tended to the customers. Before you knew it you were having your third beer and feeling pretty tipsy. You were giggling at a story Harry was telling you about his friend’s two year old son and nearly knocked over your glass.

“Okay, I’m pretty fucked up.” You giggled again.

“Did you drive?” He asked.

“Yeah…I didn’t plan on being here for more than two hours.” You said and he smiled.

“Let’s get some food in you then. How do sweet potato fries sound?”

“Like the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You said and he chuckled.

“Alright, I’m gonna put an order in.” He said before hurrying over to the POS system.

You did sober up quite a bit after eating and having a glass of water and you needed to go, you’d been taking a lot of time away from Harry. You flagged him down and he came over to you quickly.

“Thank you for the VIP treatment tonight, Harry. I didn’t know I needed that.” You smiled and he smiled back.

“I’m glad you had a nice visit. Hopefully one of many more?” He inquired.

“Definitely.” You assured with a blissful grin, “I should get out of your hair though, so can I get the bill?” You asked.

“You’re good, love.” He smiled and you pouted.

“Don’t do that. You’ve done so much already, the least I could do is pay.” You insisted, “Besides, wouldn’t want you to get in trouble by comping that much.” You added and he smiled.

“Well, I’m actually the owner so…” He responded smugly and you tutted.

“Well, I believe you’ve just lost your case.” You grinned.

“How’s that?” He asked, perplexed.

“You’re a small business owner, the backbone of the local economy! If the roles were reversed I know there is no way you wouldn’t insist on paying.” You said and he smiled. “Please, Harry.” You insisted.

“Fine. But I’m applying the 15% employee discount.” He said and you grinned as he headed off to the register without allowing you another word in edgewise. You hopped off your seat and went over to the register and paid, giving the 15% back in tip which made him tut as you giggled.

“Thank you, again!” You called as you walked to the door and he smiled and waved as you headed out.

********************

By the end of your first semester, you’d become a regular at the brewery. You had become pretty good friends with Harry. You’d learned that he was 34, so 12 years older than you were. You learned that he’d been engaged but that it ended nearly five years ago. He’d earned a degree in computer science and he’d made a pretty penny when he helped develop some AI program and had sold it and had made a large sum of money from that. So he moved down from the Silicone valley fours years ago to open up this place and it was almost an instant success. He was fucking cool. You had a huge crush on him. Not only was he handsome but he was sweet as can be.

When he learned that you couldn’t afford to fly home for the holidays, he invited you to his and his friends’ holiday party. And well, on Christmas everything between the two of you changed. Thanks to a very eye-opening kiss under the mistletoe, if you could believe it. He dropped you off at home after the little get-together and as you were saying goodbye you kissed him again and that led to you two making out for half an hour before you finally pulled apart.

“Let me take you out.” He panted before kissing your cheek and you smiled and nodded.

“Yeah.” You agreed with excitement lighting up your eyes. You really liked him, you sincerely thought he didn’t think of you in that way. Particularly because of his age, because in terms of interests and tastes, you had plenty of things in common. Regardless, you were so relieved that he was also into you.

And after that first date, things quickly heated up between the two of you. Despite how great of a catch Harry was, he hadn’t really had tons of dating experience, he’d only had two long-term partners. One during his entire time in high school and the other after he moved to the U.S., the one who he had been engaged with. And they ended things when he resigned from the job in the Silicone Valley. You on the other hand had lots of flings and little things here and there. You were a little reckless with your heart, probably the hedonist in you. But when you and Harry started talking more in depth about where your relationship would go, you learned that he only dated someone when he felt that he could develop big feelings for the person. He was cautious about who he gave his time, affection, and heart to. The fact that he was the way he was - attentive, caring, mature, stable, and wise - well, you started to fall in love with him quickly.

Your relationship with Harry became serious quite fast, but he insisted that you two wait until you graduated to make moves towards merging your lives even more. He proposed to you over dinner the night before your graduation with your parents and siblings there for it. A few weeks after graduation you moved into his house. The time you didn’t spend together or working, was spent planning the wedding. A year later, you two were married and just relishing in your new life together.

….THREE YEARS LATER….

You and Harry had now been married for three extraordinary years. It wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but most of the time it was. By now, most of your friends were married too but the biggest difference was that they were already on the baby train. One of your good friends got married because she’d gotten pregnant and the other two had their first kids just a year apart from each other. At first, Harry had baby fever far more than you did but lately there was just something in the air that had you feeling absolutely feral for him. To put it more poetically, you had a need to breed. You were feeling horny every time you were around him.

Maybe it was the weather that was finally heating up? Or the fact that along with that, Harry would wear more t-shirts at the brewery. You’d get to see him lugging big, heavy boxes of produce or crates of glassware to and from the kitchen and bar, meaning he was constantly showing off his strength. He was so smart and strong and capable, and he was the best husband and partner to you. He gave you everything you wanted and more! So you knew that he could give you the most beautiful babies in the world. And lately, the thought was just ever present. Everything about him had you swooning.

Even now, just the way he would try to reach his big hands into the glasses to dry them properly made your pussy flutter and swell with need. Why were his arms so fucking big? And why did the masskrug look so tiny in his hands? You swear you would soon start to drool if you had to watch him any longer.

“What?” He chuckled as you just watched him from the other side of the bar top.

“N-nothing. Just…watching you. And your…big hands. And big arms.” You smiled and his eyes flickered up to yours and he smirked as he recognized the lustful look in them.

“What about ‘em?”

“Nothing really…just, I don’t know, I’m suddenly very aware of how…strong you are. S’a little distracting.” You shrugged and he hummed.

“Distracting enough that you shouldn’t be the one doing the payroll?” He asked and you giggled.

“Babe, I was an art major…I never should’ve been doing your payroll to begin with.” You joked and he chuckled.

“That’s probably true.” He joked back with a playful little grin as he glanced back down at the glass he was drying.

“You know what I’ve been thinking?” You asked.

“What, my love?” He asked without pulling his eyes from his task.

“I think I’m ready to start trying for a baby.” You said far too nonchalantly. So much so that in response all you heard was the shattering of glass as the masskrug fell to the ground. “Oh shit!” You gasped, “Are you alright?” You asked him and he glanced up at you with a smile and nodded.

“Yeah, love. M’fine. Just…surprised me with that one.” He confessed and you bit your lip to suppress your smile as his eyes bore into yours.

“I’ll get the broom.” You said softly as you prepared to hop off of the stool.

“Hey! No, no, no…don’t scamper off just yet.” He called out, “You can’t just drop a bomb on me like that.” He said with a smirk. You felt your cheeks heating up as the blood rushed up to your face.

“I was going to come back…”

“You want to have a baby?” He asked, bringing the topic back to that.

“I mean…yeah. Of course!” You shrugged.

“What brought this on?” He asked.

“Well…lately I’ve just been really…horny. But it’s more than that… it’s like…I can’t get enough of you. I just want more of you. More of us.” You said and he smiled, “I think that you’d be an amazing father and the idea of you, all handsome and rugged like you are, just caring after such a perfect and tiny little thing…I don’t know, it’s just been doing things to me lately.” You explained and he was smirking smugly at you. “Don’t make fun.” You mumbled and he shook his head.

“Of course not, my love.” He assured you, “I’m just glad you’ve finally come around.” He said and you rolled your eyes. Considering you were the young one here, you wanted to wait so that you could enjoy your marriage for a bit and have time to get your lives together before starting on a family. “But how do I know you’re not gonna change your mind? I know that you wanted to enjoy us for a while before we considered starting a family.”

“Well, it’s been three years…we’ve traveled, your business has grown, I’ve had my own exhibit like I wanted to…” you pointed out, “I mean, trying means just that, trying. It could take a few attempts and I’m ready to start if you’re…you know, also ready for that.” You said with a placid smile.

“Yeah, okay.” He said with a boyish grin adorning his face. “Should we make an appointment with your doctor?”

“Mmm…I say we do it the old fashioned way.” You said with a suggestive tone and he chuckled, “Just…go at it every chance we get until we get lucky.” You shrugged and he chuckled.

“Baby, as lovely and tempting as that sounds, I have work.” He reminded you and you grinned.

“Well based on the numbers I’m seeing here, you can afford to hire someone else.” You added and he chuckled.

“That’s how bad you want it?”

“Yes.” You responded quickly and he smiled.

“Alright, my love. Your wish is my command.” He assured and you smirked, “Damn it…” he mumbled.

“What?” You asked with a small frown.

“Now I’m hard.” He admitted and you grinned. “Though…the thought of getting you pregnant always makes me hard so…” he chuckled.

“Then do something about it.” You taunted and he chuckled. “I’m serious.”

“Right now?” He asked and you shrugged.

“Seize the moment.” You smiled.

“Baby…” he said, looking quite tortured and you just smiled at him.

“Come here.” You said and he came around the bar. You twirled around in the stool when he was before you, “I stopped taking my birth control two weeks ago…” you informed enticingly.

“You did?” he asked as he leaned down and you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Mmhm.” You confirmed. “Please, fuck me.” You requested.

“Here?!” He chuckled nervously and you nodded.

“I’m your wife, yeah?” You asked and he nodded before pecking your lips again, “You vowed to have me for all the days of our life, did you not?” You asked with a soft and seductive tone.

“That not how it goes… but I did…” he hummed in amusement.

“Then have me. Anytime you want. Whenever, wherever we are until you do what we set out to do. I don’t even need to come. Just need you to come. Need you to come a lot inside of me.” You said in a low and sultry voice. He was nearly panting, his fingers digging into your thighs through the light fabric of your dress. “I love you. I need you. I need you so fucking bad.” You pleaded and next thing you knew your lips were meeting in a desperate and heated kiss as your hands shakily worked at the button and fly of his jeans. When you had them and his briefs low enough to let his erection spring free, he pushed your dress up and tore your underwear off before stuffing them into his pocket. “Get inside of me. Please!” You begged hungrily and he pulled you closer until his cock was sliding through your already hot and slippery folds.

“So fucking wet. Ready to get knocked up, aren’t you?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes.” You whispered and he kissed you again. “Do it, baby. Fuck me.” You panted.

Without another warning he pushed against your entrance until your little hole stretched around his veiny, girthy cock. You gasped as he plunged deep inside of you on the first thrust, but you needed that. You needed him like this. Over and over, his cock rammed inside of you until you’d wince with how deep he was getting inside. It felt delicious. Your nails were digging into his big, bulging biceps as you moaned aloud without any care in the word. His deep, consistent grunts were perfectly timed with his thrusts, they made your head and tummy flutter with how deep they were. You were completely blissed out. Your skin was covered in goosebumps and your walls were fluttering and squeezing his cock deliciously. He was fighting to hold his need to come back, but then again, that’s what you wanted from him; his cum flooding your insides. Painting your insides with everything he had to give until he gave you a baby. Not just a baby, his baby. A product of all of the love you shared for each other.

Everything about him was everything you’d ever wanted. He was everything to you and having more of him in this way was something that you couldn’t even comprehend, you just needed it. It was instinctual to have more with someone who was so embedded into your mind, heart, and soul. What more was there to this often sad and destructive life than to make love and create more beauty to add to it?

“Fuck…I’m gonna come.” He groaned as he started to rub his thumb over your clit in swift little circles. Maybe you didn’t need to come, but he wanted you to. He needed to feel you spasming around his cock as he filled you up. When he heard your breath catch he smiled, “Come for me, baby. Come on my cock and I’ll give you what you want.” He panted and seconds later your legs were shaking around his hips as you thrust up to meet his deep and unforgiving plunges as you whimpered and whined as you came undone. Your sounds turned into weak little grunts that escaped your throat in perfect time with his thrusts until he was stopping deep inside of you. You could feel his cock twitching as he shot spurt after spurt of his sperm deep into you until he had nothing left to give. After he finished he kissed you deeply. “Did you mean that? Whenever I want?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, free use. I always want you, H.” You smiled, “Always need you.” You assured him as you caressed his face with the back of your hand.

“Okay, baby. But if you ever want me to stop or aren’t in the mood just say…hmmm…”

“Sour.” You suggested with a dopey smile, “After the first beer you served me.” You said and he chuckled. You weren’t always all sentimental like that, but he loved when you were.

“Alright, my love. Sours is our safe word.” He agreed before kissing your lips quickly. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up before Jeremy gets in. S’almost his shift.” He reminded and you giggled and pulled him down down for another kiss.

“Maybe delete the footage from this time frame.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course, but only after I save it…for memories, you know?” He said mischievously and you giggled.

“I love you so much.” You hummed happily.

“I love you more, my love.” He whispered.

****************

After that first time at his brewery, there was hardly any stopping Harry. Like you’d asked before, he’d have you whenever he well pleased. It was far easier for him to picture you growing with his baby now. It didn’t matter to him that you were occupied, he’d just get your pants off or dress out of the way and plunge in and you were more than fine with that. It even happened a few times while you slept, you’d wake up with him hovering over you, sliding his cock between your spread legs. Much to his surprise, you were soaking wet about 80% of the time and when you weren’t it didn’t take much to have you dripping and begging for him to put it in. He hadn’t given much thought to the baby’s sex or even names, he just wanted a baby with you and he’d be more than pleased regardless. Like now...

You were being stirred awake by Harry turning you on your back and gently prodding into your entrance. You groaned a bit as he tried to push in a bit but you weren't wet enough for his sizable cock yet.

"Just give me minute." you mumbled.

"I want you now." he said and then you felt a warm wad of spit land over your pussy before he smeared his erection all over it and then sunk in with more ease, "There we are..." he hummed in approval as he got about halfway. He sighed in relief as your warm and tight walls started to slick up around him quickly. "Had a very pleasant dream of you showing me a positive test. Woke up so fucking hard." he panted through his thrusts and then smirked when you got even more wet for him.

"Fuck, it feels so good inside you, baby." he sighed and you moaned when he ground into you.

"A little harder, daddy." you whispered, voice still rough from sleep. He hummed and gave it to you a bit harder, the soft smacks of your bodies meeting grew a little louder. And he gradually started increasing his force until your headboard was thumping against the wall and you whined out, "T-too hard!" you whimpered and he brought a thumb to your clit.

"You know what to do if it's too much, baby." he said comfortingly. He knew you liked to get whiny every now and again. "You say "sour", right?" he asked and you nodded. "Use your words, my love." he encoruaged.

"I know." you added, "Just...a little slower, please?" you requested and those puppy-dog eyes absolutely melted him to the core. His stern demeanor softened and a little smile appeared on his mouth as he stopped and then leaned down to kiss your lips quickly.

"Okay, baby. Sorry, got a little excited over that dream." He hummed against your lips. He then started thrusting again, undulating his hips in a way that got him right up against your g-spot. "Like that?" he asked and you whimpered as he started to grind a bit harder.

"Yes, daddy! Like that..." you keened and he groaned lowly as your walls started to flutter around him seconds later. He started to rub on your clit again until you started to tremble. You choked on a moan as your orgasm started to build far too much for you to keep inside. "Oh baby, I'm...I'm gonna come!" you gasped.

"Go on, baby. Let me feel your drenching my cock. Get you ready for my cum." he panted, "Ready for me to put a baby in that pretty body of yours." your eyes rolled back and your back arched until your body just froze and your walls started to spasm as your orgasm washed over you. The gorgeous flutters of pleasure bloomed from your tummy and rippled through your body, making your legs twitch and for your finger nails to dig into Harry's thick, muscular thighs.

"Yes, baby. Yes!" he groaned as his own pleasure built up to a point of no return. His steady rhythm faltered as he grunted through three deep thrust until he was holding your hips tightly as he started to shoot his sperm deep in you. You loved how he praised you for taking it all.

And when the height of it passed he only pulled out to turn you onto your side and then spooned you only to thrust back in. He lightly shivered from the sensitivity, but he wanted all of his cum to stay inside. You pulled one of his hands up to your mouth and kissed the back of it before sighing happily.

"I'll always take care of you. You know that, right?" he asked and you nodded as you hummed, "You're everything to me." he said softly, "I already love you with everything in my being. Can't possibly imagine how much more it can grow for you once we have our baby." he said softly and you smiled.

"I think you'll love the baby the most." you whispered.

"I don't know...you're the one giving me the baby." he reasoned and you smiled. "But what I do know is that you're my whole life. I'm so fucking fortunate to have you to share this with. Love you." he hummed.

"Love you, H." you smiled.

"Want you to do something for me, baby." he added, "Gonna send you some stuff I was looking up earlier. Stuff to like prepare your body and increase your chances, you know? Give it a try?"

"Of course, baby." you agreed easily.

***************

On top of the things Harry had suggested to you, you had also been implementing your own measures to optimize your health enough to successfully conceive. You had made significant improvements to your diet and even started taking prenatal vitamins and teas that you hoped would help. And since Harry owned and worked at the brewery you asked him to please stop serving you alcohol, no matter how much you asked for it, so your taste-testing badge had been revoked. You were also getting more rest and even started exercising more with him. Incidentally, this was something that just made you more horny for him. Considering that exercise helped you produce endorphins you were in a far better mood and up for sex more than before.

Maybe it was a little indecorous of you, but you honestly enjoyed the dull ache that seemed to permanently reside between your legs as of late. You actually craved more of it, especially at times like these, when you watched him working out from across the gym while you just kept a moderate pace on the elliptical. He was making eye contact with you from the mirror with a subtle smile ignoring the other people who were very clearly ogling him as he did his deadlifts. You couldn’t blame them, Harry was a masterpiece of a human. He was tall, handsome, attractive, and good natured. The way his muscles tightened up as he worked through his routine made you hungry for him in sinful ways. So much so that you needed to go and fuck. Now.

You got off of the machine and went to grab a wipe to clean off the handles and buttons you’d touched before asking him to leave. He wouldn’t mind cutting his workout short, that’s what you’d be doing more of anyway if you really thought about it. You decided to gather your things from the locker in the bathroom and then head over to grab him. When you headed over to the free weights area you saw a girl trying to chat him up, he seemed a bit annoyed but was too polite to tell her to go away. It may have seemed he was fair game because he wasn’t wearing his wedding band right now (you always reminded him to take his ring off when he was lifting heavy because your wedding bands were made of gold, a soft metal, so it could easily get warped with the amount of weight he lifted), but he was all yours and you needed him now. His evident display of strength had you completely drenched in your underwear. You could feel the steady throb of your walls even as you walked over. You could see him glancing over to the cardio section through the mirror, probably searching for you to help but you were just about to reach him.

“Baby!” You called out to him from a few feet away and he whipped around and his smile of relief made you smirk. He could see the hunger in your gaze from where he was. The girl that walked up to him looked mortified as she connected the dots before scurrying off. Harry quickly re-racked the weights he’d been using before setting the bar back in place and hurrying over to you. “I need you to get me home. Stat.” You said lowly as you walked through the gym and he chuckled.

“Alright, my love. Not a problem.” He hummed with a big, warm hand on your lower back.

In nearly twenty minutes you were carefully getting into the shower together, the foreplay was in how he talked to you and touched you as you got cleaned up. Everything was building up as he smoothed over your breasts with his soapy hands and talked about how big they’d get when he finally got you pregnant. Things like this that you never thought could rile you up were doing the job. You loved to see his big veiny hands playfully tugging and rolling your nipples between his fingers while you ground back into his erection.

“God, you’re so fucking big.” You mumbled as he rutted his erect cock again your plump backside.

“I know. Almost too big for your pretty little cunt.” He responded and you nodded in agreement. “But you like that, don’t you?” You asked and you nodded.

“Yes, daddy.” You hummed, already feeling a little loopy.

“Turn around.” He said and you twirled around and looked up at him, “How do want it, my love?” He asked and you bit your lip as your mind started to wander and imagine all of the options you had. Then, you glanced over to the bench you used for shaving, “Wanna ride me?” He asked upon noticing where it was you had looked.

“Yeah, can I?”

“Of course.” He smirked.

And before you knew it you were sinking down onto his cock impatiently. You slightly hissed at the sting of the initial stretch but kept going, pushing through the slight discomfort. You loved the pain of the stretch as he tried to fit inside of you. You sometimes grew sad over the fact that it’d never feel like the first time you had sex again, you’d only been able to take half of him that first time and you’d been so tight around him that he came twice all over your pussy and tummy. Riding him was as close as you got to recreating that. You loved how full you felt when you rode him, how it felt like he was so big that he was penetrating up into your stomach, literally rearranging your guts. It made you breathless and cock drunk so quickly. He was holding you up a good amount because the bench wasn’t as big as it looked, so you were struggling and your knees were starting to hurt and you couldn’t touch his big, taut muscles like you hoped you could.

“Fuck this, lets get out.” You panted impatiently and he lifted you up like you were nothing, holding you to his body as he quickly shut the water off, shampoo and all still in your hair. You stumbled into the bedroom and barely made it to the bed. He just sat and you started grinding away at him. You pushed his chest back and he got the hint and laid back as you started to ride him a bit harder.

“Put your arms behind your head for support.” You said and he did so.

“Like this?” He asked and you nodded quickly. His glorious arm muscles were on full display and you could see how even his lats were nice and toned.

“Flex for me.” You requested and he did and you groaned loudly. You just wanted to bite into his biceps.

“You’re so fucking hot, daddy. So big and strong, always take such good care of me.” You panted as you rode him. Your hands roamed his chest and abs, feeling the firmness of his muscles, tracing the dip between his pecs with your index fingers and then going between his abs like you were tracing through a little maze. You started grinding in a way that he could plunge against your g-spot and he moaned over you as he felt his tip up against your spot and his eyes squeezed shut for a second.

“Fuck, right there…I’m…I’m gonna come soon.” He warned and you smirked.

“So fast?” You teased and he chuckled before wrapping his arms around you and squeezing your body tight.

“You want my cum don’t you? So what does it matter?” He asked and you melted at his question. Normally you wouldn’t mind if he came soon, you didn’t necessarily need orgasms for sex to be worth it for you. What got you off was the vibe. His energy, being present and in tune with him, making each other feel good, relishing in the intimacy of the moment. But right now, you did want to come around him.

“I want to come.” You whined softly and he suddenly flipped you back to missionary and thrust deeper into you until you gasped and pinched your eyes closed for a second.

Harry knelt up to have a better range of motion and he started going deep and slow. You could feel every inch of him sliding in and out of you, it was absolute bliss. Over and over his tip was colliding with that spot inside of you that ached and felt like ecstasy at the same time. He then slid one of his hands up your tummy until he was reaching for your breast. He groped and squeezed and felt at it in his hand. You reached for his arms and just caressed his arm. You traced up his fingers and then felt over his forearm, you were obsessed with how solid it was. Then, you worked your way up his bicep, squeezing his muscles, feeling his strength. Then, you lightly raked your nails from the butterfly inked above his abs all the way down to where your bodies were connected. His skin was littered in goosebumps and his movements stuttered.

“Fuck…” he groaned lowly and you glanced up at him, “It’s too much, baby. I’m so close!” He warned again and you smirked. Just getting to be close and feel him like this was working you up to his level. Watching him be so affected by your feather light touches was doing you in. You tickled up his other arm and he shuddered as he squeezed over your breast harder than before and you intentionally squeezed your walls around his cock. You took the time to feel it all; how he felt inside of you, how his damp skin was getting warmer and warmer the closer he got to coming. How every time you bucked up with him, your clit would bump against his pelvis, that’s how close you were. It was pushing you to the edge, you were teetering on it!

“Me too! I’m so close, daddy!” You moaned and he started going a bit faster and you moaned breathily, “Fuck, right there! Just like that, don’t stop!” You pleaded. He was locked in on this place until he felt your thighs starting to tremble around his hips. He lowered himself and kissed you deeply.

“You’ve been so good, haven’t you, my love? Taking such good care of yourself so that you can have my baby?” He asked.

“Yeah, daddy!” You whined out.

“Fuck, I hope this is the one…” he groaned and you moaned again. “You’re squeezing so tight…shit, come for me. Come on my cock, baby.” He grunted through his hard thrusts and the tight coil of pleasure finally gave way and that tight feeling in your body started to come undone. Your hips thrusted against his without any concern for the pace he’d set as the pleasure just racked through you and wiped you out like a tidal wave. You could feeling it consuming ever nerve ending from the top of your head and down to your toes. You hugged him close to your body, letting your hands roam down his back and squeeze his ass, pushing him even deeper until he couldn’t go any further inside of you.

“Please, put your baby in me! Come inside me, baby. Come inside me, breed me!” You whimpered and he groaned as he started to deliver hard, unforgiving thrusts as his sperm shot deep into you. The sounds coming from where your bodies were joined were absolutely filthy but you loved them. You loved that there was so much of his sperm that it made a squelchy mess for you that could be heard. You were twitchy and trembly as he filled you to the brim but that didn’t stop him from slipping out and getting on the ground to lick up your cunt. His tongue flicked at your clit until you were crying out in over stimulation as you came again.

Your abdominal muscles were putting in work as your orgasm rippled through you, your spasming walls started to push out some of his sperm but he was not about to let any of it go to waste.

“Nuh-uh, this cum is for you.” He mumbled lowly as his fingers slid down to about your perineum before he smeared them over your entrance carefully to get it back in you. Just knowing that the slight gape of your tight little hole was caused by his big cock made him want to fuck you all over again. He stretched you open a bit more and was able to see his cum stuffed inside of you, right to the brim. “Fuck, there’s so much of it.” He chuckled lowly as you twitched beneath him. He then laid back down and had you drape your legs over his just to keep you at an incline.

“Think we did it this time?” You asked and he smiled before kissing the back of your hand.

“Think so… but as much as I want to have a baby with you, I wouldn’t mind if it takes a little while longer. I love fucking you like this.” He chuckled his confession and you did as well.

“This is not the position you want me in if you want this to take longer to accomplish.” You pointed out and he laughed a bit and then got up and leaned over you to kiss you slowly. You hugged him close and rubbed over his back soothingly. You wrapped your legs around him and trapped him against your body, koala style. He laughed at your silliness as he tried to pull back. “Not yet.” You pouted.

“Baby, we need to finish our shower.” He reminded. “Come on…I’ll fuck you again after. Really make it stick.” He said with a suggestive tone and you loosened your grip around him enough for him to pull back.

“I am obsessed with you.” You said and he smiled, “I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. I wouldn’t want to.” You added softly and tenderly before arching up to kiss him deeply.

“As am I, my love. And I promise, we’re gonna keep trying as long as it takes.” He assured you. “And all through it I’m going to take such good care of you. I’ll keep you safe. S’my job, as your husband to do that. My favorite job in the world.” He smiled as he looked at you lovingly.

“I love you so much.” You hummed.

“Love you.” He whispered.

>> Next Part>>

Trying update ask! (WC: 3.7k)**

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gallusrostromegalus · 6 months ago

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I could use google, but it’s not as fun, what is the Tour de Corg?

So you may be familiar with the famous Tour De France bicycle race, wherein many of the world's top athletes push the limits of the human body, racing technology and pharmaceutical science.

You may be less familiar with The Fort Collins Colorado based New Belgium Brewery, which makes the regionally famous Fat Tire Ale. It's immensely popular at least around here- to the point where the brewery hosts a Costumed Bicycle Ride/parade and concert every year (because the beer is named after Fat Tire Bicycles), called "Tour de Fat"

It's a really fun event- you show up at city park with your lawn chairs and watch about a thousand people in homemade costumes bicycle through in various degrees of intoxication. It's a fun afternoon out, and everyone and their dog comes out for it.

...Which is how the residents of Fort Collins noticed that there are lots and lots and LOTS of corgis, and that they also all like to Dress said Corgis up in fun little costumes and so a tertiary event was created: The Tour De Corgi, wherein everyone with a corgi (and any other dog that wants to attend) turns up on the county courthouse lawn and so their little crime tube may meet its fellow diminutive felons. There are booths from local businesses (including the brewery), a corgi race, a costume contest.

Hopefully, Herschel and I will be able to attend this year.

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big-snack · 6 months ago

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Porcus Isle Part I

Dom had always been larger than life. Standing at an impressive 6'5" and built like a linebacker, he was the kind of guy who turned heads wherever he went. But beyond his imposing physique, Dom was known for his easy-going nature and infectious smile.

Dom worked at a tech company downtown, San Diego, often putting in long hours. Despite his demanding job, he always found time for his true passion: exploring the vibrant food scene in San Diego. From taco trucks in Barrio Logan to high-end restaurants in La Jolla, Dom's weekends were filled with culinary adventures, always in search of the next great bite.

But Dom's favorite place was a small, unassuming diner near the beach. It was there, over a stack of pancakes and a steaming cup of coffee, that he found a sense of peace. The diner was a hidden gem, known only to a few locals, and Dom had been coming there since he moved to Socal. The owner, Jack, greeted him like family, and the regulars always had a seat ready for him. The whole diner was run by and frequented by big men. Dom felt right at home with these guys.

One sunny Saturday morning, as Dom was savoring his breakfast, a new face walked into the diner. He was a tall, built man with sharp features and immense confidence. He took a seat at the counter, glancing around the diner as if taking it all in. Like he was appreciating all the men. "Hey stud, you find what you're lookin' for?" Jack asked...

Intrigued, Dom decided to introduce himself.

"Hey there, first time here?" Dom asked, flashing his friendly smile.

The man looked up, meeting Dom's gaze with a curious look. "Yeah, just moved to San Diego a few weeks ago. Name's Alex," he replied, extending his hand.

"Welcome to the best diner in town, Alex. I'm Dom," he said, shaking Alex's hand firmly. "What brings you to San Diego?"

Alex chuckled. "A bit of everything, really. New job, new city, looking for a fresh start. I'm a software engineer."

Dom's eyes lit up. "No kidding! I'm in tech too. It's a great field, but it can be pretty demanding. This diner is my escape from all that stress."

As they talked, Dom and Alex found they had more in common than just their profession. They shared a love for video games and a passion for good food. Dom offered to show Alex around the city's best eateries, and Alex eagerly accepted.

Their friendship grew quickly, and soon, weekends were spent exploring San Diego's food scene together. Whether it was sampling street tacos, enjoying a craft beer at a local brewery, or having a quiet meal at the diner, Dom and Alex's bond became a craving for both men.

One evening, after a particularly grueling week at work, Dom and Alex decided to unwind at a new barbecue joint that had just opened in North Park. The restaurant was buzzing with energy, the scent of smoked meats wafting through the air.

As they dug into a platter of ribs and brisket, Dom looked at Alex and asked, "So, how's the new job treating you?"

Alex wiped his hands on a napkin, leaning back in his chair. "It's been challenging, but in a good way. The team's great, and the projects are interesting. It’s just... sometimes I miss having a bit more of a work-life balance."

Dom nodded. "I hear you. That’s why it’s important to have nights like this, to just relax and enjoy good company and good food."

Alex smiled. "Speaking of good company, thanks for showing me around, Dom. Moving to a new city can be pretty overwhelming, but you've made it feel like home.", "Anytime, man" Dom replied, raising his glass.

As the night wore on, their conversation shifted to their mutual love for video games. Alex mentioned an upcoming release he was excited about, and Dom suggested they set up a game night. This became the perfect way to unwind after eating out.

One evening, after a particularly intense gaming session and drinks, Dom and Alex found themselves talking about their interests. Alex expressed his admiration for Dom's physique and said he's looking to join a gym. "All this eating is starting to fill me out." Alex jiggled his belly. Dom's eyes darted to his bloated stomach. "Damn man. I didn't even realize." Dom was stupified.

He had always been focused on his own weight, but he hadn't noticed the changes in Alex.

"Yeah, it's been creeping up on me," Alex admitted, a bit embarrassed. "I've been so caught up in work and our food adventures that I haven't made time for the gym. Do you think you could help me out?"

Dom smiled, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect. "Of course! I'd love to help you. Dom had no idea why the thought of Alex's weight gain turned him on.

That night in his dark room. He thought about that moment. His belly jiggled like it was no longer a part of him. There was no visibility of his ribs. His arms filled out his shirt sleeves more. His face softened up. Dom had never masterbated to a guy before. He stopped for a second to think about it.

It was late. He was alone. No one could judge him if he stared to look up what he was fantasizing about. He pulled up Google and started with image searches. 'Fat belly': 'fat belly guy'; 'beer belly'; 'beer belly men'.

That night he spent a few hours looking at fat guys. The bellies started small, but the longer he searched the bigger they got. He glanced at a picture of a man 600 pounds. His belly was covering his lap in bed. Every single ounce of his body jiggled from the slightest shallow breath from being overstuffed. The guy leaned back on his bed and his head disappeared. The big bulbous crescent shape stood at least 4 feet high; he imagined.

Dom hit his climax and started to cum. His body filled with chills, made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "I need to see this in person" he screamed and then he slumped back in his seat. He had some clarity and was worried about what he'd just done. "Why the hell did I do that?"

The next day he saw Alex at the diner, for brunch, and had a new appreciation for his body. "You know, after you mentioned it, I thought more about your physique." Dom shared. "Oh really? What is it you appreciate?" Alex said flirtatiously. "Um, well, I mean you're pretty beefy. That's a popular body type." He said nervously. "Beefy implies that I've been working out. I'm all jello, buddy."

The entire restaurant is quieter than normal. Dom didn't notice, but all the men in the diner were listening.

Dom could feel a twitch in his pants. "Ugh, shit, not this again." Alex was blushing. Dom was intently looking at Alex's body well beyond what was normal. "Something tells me you like it." He said with a smirk.

Dom smiled nervously. "I mean, you could say I appreciate the way you look." Dom was getting hot. "I need to use the restroom" Dom said. "Perfect, I'll go with you" Alex responded. Dom struggled to stand up straight.

They walked to the bathroom. "I feel like we're both flustered." Alex said. "Oh yeah, I guess it pretty obvious. I'm not sure what's going on lately", Dom replied.

Instantly and without hesitation the locked bodies and started making out. Dom's hands caressed Alex's newly sprouted love handles. Alex pulls back from Dom's lips and whispers, "You did this to me."

The door handle turns and someone walks in. They separate and the man said, "Are you that clueless, Dominick? We have all been dropping you hints for a while now.

"Is this like a chubby chaser establishment?"

The man responds "You mean the diner between a bear bar and a leather shop? Of course that's what it is. We managed to get you to gain 20 pounds man."

"Holy shit!" Dom exclaimed. "No wonder I love this place. Fat men make me horny. I can't believe I just said that out loud." Panic washed over him. "It's ok Dom. Nothing has changed." Alex reassured him.

"You were a part of this?" Dom questioned.

"Not really, you spoke to me first. I was coming here because I knew what I wanted. It took me a while to realize you had no idea what was going on. I thought you were playing hard to get"

"Dude I just found out I might be gay, I don't have the bandwidth to come to terms with a fetish."

"Great tech pun" Alex replied.

They both started laughing. When Dom rejoined the room it was like he was seeing it all for the first time. Some men had their large sack of flesh bulging out of their shirts.

"All right you guys. Dom knows what's going on." Alex announced.

That day was the moment Dom knew that Alex was the one.

---

The next part flashes forward

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galaxywhale · 3 days ago

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@queervagabond oh that’s so interesting! I wonder why! Paddle makes much more sense to me hahaha but I’m sure there’s a reason

I love that breweries (here? idk if that’s a thing elsewhere?) have tasting paddles bc I just tried way more cider than I would have otherwise and were having a lot of fun ranking them and comparing our ranking (my + my sister’s husband are Correct, she is Not)

#we had this one which was the brewery’s ‘core’ ciders #and sister’s husband got the fancy limited time paddle and then was like no you all try it bc #he wanted our rankings haha #and they had a spirits one too with their apple spirits bc it was a cider brewery on an apple farm #and last week I tried a few different beers from a tiiiiny local brewery and learnt that I liked a beer #that I never would’ve tried otherwise

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angelsdean · 7 months ago

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I SPY Series: Team Free Will Go To Pride Edition

For the Destiel Pride prompt: Queer Joy, TFW celebrates their pride at the local pride picnic + parade.

Dean bakes a pie and makes a special pride mixtape. Cas stuffs his tote bag with the Essentials: frisbee, uno cards, sunscreen, body glitter. Donna and Jody bring their polaroid camera and take loads of pictures. Jack makes everyone bracelets. Claire decks out Baby (hashtag Baby is a lesbian) and also gifts Dean, Cas, and Jack some pins. Eileen follows Gabriel's example from Dean's birthday and wrecks havoc with some more Bedroom Bingo scratch-off cards. Sam packs the cooler with drinks, including green juice smoothies (D: Gross, Sammy!) and some beers from a new family-owned brewery.

They've got snacks-a-plenty, great tunes, games, good company, and more flags than they can count! Now, time for a game of our own...

I spy with my little eye:

11 Pride Flags, of various orientations (specifically flags not just rainbow things)

1 Hat

2 Pairs of Sunglasses

3 Bottle Caps

5 Stars

5 Hearts

6 Raffle Tickets

6 Button Pins

Did you find them all?

[click + zoom for quality]

#destielpride #destiel edit #destiel #deancas #ispyseries #myedits #family tag #tfw

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haggishlyhagging · 1 year ago

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Women were also regularly employed in brewing, at least as much as men. Medieval peasants drank rather a lot of small (or low-alcohol) beer and ale. In the tenth-century Alfric's Colloguy, which records theoretical dialogues between a teacher and his students, one young man states, "I drink ale, usually, if I drink at all, and water if I have no ale. . . . I am not rich enough to be able to buy myself wine: Wine is not a drink for boys or fools but for old men and wise men." By the late medieval period, in brewing centers such as České Budejovice, from whence the name Budweiser comes, beer was being made on a large enough scale that it was being exported to Bavaria.

Medieval people desired to drink beer and ale not because water was unsafe, but because farmwork is extremely hard. Small beer and ale added additional calories to their daily uptake in an enjoyable way. Although the wealthy were probably able to procure professionally made and imported beers, most people, especially in the earlier medieval period, made their own ale or bought it from nearby producers. Ale was brewed primarily from barley and did not include the hops of beer, which meant it could not be stored for long before going off. As such, those who wanted ale had to be constantly brewing it to ensure a steady supply, making brewing a very common cottage industry. Women who brewed for their families would often brew excess for sale, allowing them to bring in a bit of money. Because brewing was a craft that could be learned at home, women could be employed as brewers in larger commercial breweries.

We find women in the brewing trade consistently: records show them paying taxes on their gains from brewing, and registering with the authorities who oversaw standards. When someone performed below these standards, they were frequently written up, so we can find the women who were not meeting them. The Durham Court Rolls from 1365 record that Agnes Postell and Alice de Belasis were fined twelve denarii for selling bad ale, about the equivalent of two days' work for a skilled craftsman. Similarly Alice de Belasis was separately fined two shillings, or the equivalent of five days wages, for poor-quality ale, which a court proved had no strength at all. Punishments for brewing bad ale could range from fines to ritualized humiliation. In England, the Domesday Book first recorded the use of the cucking stool (which would become the ducking stool in the early modern period) in Chester to punish those who sold bad ale or ale in incorrect measures. They would be forced to sit in a chair out side their home and be jeered at by locals. Fourteenth-century Scottish laws noted that any alewife who made "evil ale" was either fined "eight shillings" or placed in the cucking stool, a nod to women as the primary brewers in the region who could face the largely gendered humiliation as a result.

We also learn of women in the brewing profession through records of accidents. For example, one coroner's roll indicates that at around noon on October 2, 1270, Amice Belamy was carrying a tub full of gruit, an agent for flavoring ale, with Sibyl Bonchevaler at her work in Lady Juliana de Beauchamp's brewhouse in Staple, Eaton Socon. As they went to dump the gruit into the boiling vat of beer, Amice slipped and fell into it and was trapped by the tub that fell on top of her. "Sibyl immediately jumped towards her, dragged her from the vat and shouted; the household came and found her scalded almost to death. She was given the last rites of the church and died on the day following. This harrowing story reminds us what a physically tasking and dangerous job brewing, especially in large quantities, could be.

This episode is also interesting because the two women were working for another woman, and a lady at that, Juliana de Beauchamp. Brewing was commonly associated with women across class lines, since the brewhouse is listed as belonging to the Lady Juliana. All in all, during these years a woman was just as likely to be brewing ale as a man, if not more likely in some instances.

-Eleanor Janega, The Once and Future Sex: Going Medieval on Women’s Roles in Society

#eleanor janega #medieval history #womens history #history of brewing #brewsters

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inkwolvesandcoffee · 10 months ago

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First Times (Poly Relationship w/ John & Ghost Headcanons)

I spent the morning exploring Hackney, which is rich in breweries. While wandering about, I got to thinking, what if…

John starts working at a brewery when he retires from the army?

OR!

He starts a micro brewery/pub with Simon, who retires around the same time.

🍺 The two men set to work immediately to acquire the proper licenses and a premise. Fortunately for the both of them, they’re quite handy and so know how to create a lovely, albeit very manly, space without too much interference from contractors. After all, why hire others for work you can do yourself?

🍺 Honestly, the business is a dream come true for John. Owning a micro brewery was his Plan B should things not work out with the army. However, it’s because of his former employment, he’s become a better business owner. It’s through the development of his leadership and risk-assessment skills he managed to secure the rank of captain.

🍺 For Simon, the brewery is an unexpected ambition, a new dream to follow. While he lets John do most of the marketing (because Simon can’t be arsed with social media… being social in general), he’s mostly pre-occupied with the creation of new and improvement of the already existing craft beers.

🍺 The business steadily grows as word gets about town. Soon, it’s not only the local Hackney residents who pop by, but also people from other boroughs.

🍺 Including you.

🍺 Come from Inner London, the people of the area find you somewhat of a posh puppy, a bit of a toff. It’s this view of you which makes them wonder what on Earth you’re doing in East London, this artsy and not as affluent part of the city.

🍺 Nevertheless, you’re a sight for sore eyes if you ask Simon, who’s your old neighbour back from the few years you lived in Manchester after moving there with your parents.

🍺 Though gruff and distant in the beginning, Simon gradually warmed up to you. Despite never opening up emotionally, you two did develop a strong amiable bond. Maybe because you were the only one to greet him on the street, to ask about his career after catching a glimpse of the dog tag around his neck, to welcome him back each time he was deployed.

🍺 To show sincere interest in him.

🍺 Your parents weren’t a fan of you socializing with the giant in the skull balaclava, but they never told you off for it since you two always seemed to have a good time. Moreover, they rarely saw you smile unless you were with him. So they let it slide, prioritizing your happiness over their prejudice.

🍺 It was only in the spring before you moved without telling him where to and he was deployed yet again, Simon realized he had feelings for you. Nonetheless, he put them aside or, rather, suppressed them until they numbed. He had nothing to offer, fifteen years your elder and terribly haunted.

🍺 So imagine his surprise and absolute delight when you stand in front of him, prettier than he can remember. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”

🍺 “Y/N,” it’s the only thing he can say, finally out loud after years of uttering it in silence.

🍺 “Who’s this fair lady?” John slides up next to Simon, arms crossed as he takes you in. His sea blue eyes darken when they meet yours. “How can we help, miss?”

🍺 The way he practically purrs the words sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. Yet, you conceal the effect he has on you behind a steady voice. “I saw the notice on the window, about the open position. Has it been filled in the meanwhile or can I still apply?”

🍺 “She’s a good one, John. Hardworking, trustworthy, kind. Fast learner too,” Simon says pensively.

🍺 “Got experience in the field?” John asks.

🍺 “Studied psychology, during which I mostly focused on the effect of marketing on the human psyche. Also run a food blog and Instagram”

🍺 “Thank Simon properly before you leave. I trust his judgment and seeing he knows you best, I’ll take his word for it.” He slaps his business partner on the shoulder. “Drop by tomorrow and we’ll discuss your contract. I’m looking forward to working with you…”

🍺 “Y/N.”

🍺 “Y/N...” John repeats thoughtfully. Then he hums and heads off.

🍺 Thus begins a series of firsts and connections as you settle down in Hackney.

🍺 Over the course of a few weeks, the locals come to see you as one of their own as you show them you simply aren’t some girl with rich parents, a spoiled princess, but a young woman trying to make a life for herself with her own hard-earned money via helping at the counter and striking up conversations.

🍺 John and you grow closer too. He admires and respects your eye for detail and aesthetics, though sometimes he feels a little awkward when you’re trying to direct him for the occasional TikTok. Nevertheless, it’s your creativity that keeps drawing him in, igniting the need to keep getting closer to you. What also helps is you bringing him coffee or reminding him to take breaks (both with a kiss on the cheek later down the line).

🍺 Loves to review the content you create together, especially when you’re in his lap while doing so.

🍺 On your mutual days off, John drags you all over London to visit bakeries and cafés. Never had you thought him a foodie, though it’s a pleasant discovery since there’s always something new to experience on the food scene. Moreover, he loves helping you out with your own blog, not just the one you created for the brewery.

🍺 These days, you’re teaching him photography and are taking baking classes together. Although, you might as well go on your own to the latter because he’s a terrible baker (unlike Simon, who’s self-taught and surprisingly good, like, sale-appropriate why-doesn’t-he-have-at-least-a-micro-bakery good).

🍺 Your bond with Simon mostly rekindles via being his guinea pig. He knows how brutally honest you can be in your feedback, which he thoroughly appreciates. Outside work, the two of you frequent bookshops, have picnics in the major parks in London, and visit the city’s oldest cemeteries. The latter is a bit of a morbid idea of a nice outing, but you appreciate the silence and romantic sense of decay in the air.

🍺 It isn’t long before you take up residence in the apartment the two men share, which leaves the other residents of the building wondering about your relationships to one another. Although, they can guess at the nature of it seeing the “noise” at night. As I said, lots of first including a relationship with two men older than you.

🍺 But aside from the plethora of sensual moments, there are also plenty of tender (and domestic) firsts. For example, Simon accompanies you to your first tattoo appointment. When, the next day, you’re struck by tattoo flu, he takes care of you. Of course John doesn’t force you to come to work nor Simon for that matter, who you clearly need at the moment (despite claiming otherwise). Henceforth, you’re both granted PTO until you’re back on your feet.

🍺 Speaking of the former-captain, John is your very first kiss. You and him went out for pizza (Simon preferring to stay home and read). On the way to Hackney Wick, beneath a bridge heavily decorated with graffiti and sheltering a few barges, he put his hands on your cheeks and crashed his lips into yours. He tasted of tobacco and white wine, laced with the sweetness of tomatoes and basil. That night, he made love to you.

🍺 Another first.

🍺 Simon prepared breakfast the next morning, serving food to ensure John and you wouldn’t succumb to exhaustion later in the day. Nor him, for that matter, because while he doesn’t get jealous and loves sharing you with his best friend, he sometimes wishes you wouldn’t go at it till early in the morning when the next day is an ordinary work day.

🍺 You’re there for them when either of them suffers from night terrors or combat stress. Simon is more prone to the former, whereas John is to the latter.

🍺 You accompany Simon to therapy too after he’s been diagnosed with PTSD. At first he didn’t want to go, refused it even, until he finally relented after another episode of flashbacks and coming to his senses while shaking in your arms.

🍺 Life with John and Simon isn’t always easy nor romantic.

🍺 But bloody hell, do they make it better.

#CoD #CoD x Reader #John Price #Ghost x Reader #Simon Riley #John Price x Reader #Simon Riley x Reader #Simon Ghost Riley #Captain John Price #Captain Jonathan Price #Captain John Price x Reader #Ghost CoD #CoD MW Ghost

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footygirl114 · 1 year ago

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Cervecería (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Hi friends, this is a bit late (but better late than never?) The one I was inspired to write post that champions league win with Alexia beelining it to someone in the crowd. It’s definitely not the best thing I have written but I know if i keep editing it I’ll scrap it so this is as good as it’ll get

The need to not live through another Canadian winter was the biggest draw that made you start a second business in Spain. Having started a successful craft brewery in Toronto, you knew exactly what you needed to do, when you brought the craft beer craze to Barcelona.

You had been in the city for 7 months, your restaurant had only opened a month ago but you were happy with how it was going. It was a process to get it open, but once you realised you needed to find someone who spoke both Spanish and Catalan and was familiar with the restaurant business it became a lot smoother.

You had found a spot near to the downtown without being ridiculously priced, you wanted to draw tourists but you also didn’t want to scare away any locals. The starting days were slow but as more advertising and more interest in different craft beers gre you started to get busier. Fridays and Saturdays were busy enough you had to hire extra staff, but during the week you liked to be the one behind the bar.

The whole reason you got into the brewery business in the first place, was because you loved to connect with people and share your love of beer with them. The best way you were able to do that was to be the one serving it, plus it was helping with learning Spanish.

You also drew in a unique crowd on game days, you had all the subscriptions from back home which meant you were able to play many American sports. You also always had at least one TV dedicated to women games.

About 6 weeks after you opened you were tending the bar on a slow Wednesday night, the crowd had died off after the Barca Femini game was completed, but you still had a few stragglers around. Movement caught your eye where you cleaning tables and you watched a slim female with her hair pulled in a pony tail, black hat and hoodie on walk in and settle at the end of the bar.

Moving back behind the bar she looked up and met your eyes and immediately you were drawn in to her expressive eyes. You moved toward her and said “Hola, can I get you anything?”

She smiled at you and said “Agua?”

You raise an eyebrow at her and ask “You come into a brewery sit at the bar and order water?”

She chuckles and shrugs and asks “should I sit somewhere else then?”

“no no no but let me make you a deal” you smile wanting to hear her laugh again.

She raises an eye brow as she asks “What’s the deal?”

You smirk and step back moving to pour her a glass of water, and a small taster pint of your favourite beer. You place both glasses in front of her as you tell her “I will keep pouring you the finest water all night, IF you try this small glass of my favourite beer”

She chuckles shaking her head and smiles at you as she holds out her hand and says “deal.”

You laugh and place your hand in hers, immediately feeling a tingling run up your arm, you tell her “I’m Y/N by the way.”

“Alexia” she says and releases your hand and grabs the beer glass. She slowly raises it to her lips meeting your eyes over the glass. She holds your gaze as she takes a sip.

You keep your eyes on her as she places it down and you ask “well?”

“I can see why its your favourite” she says with a smile.

Before you can say anything else another customer draws your attention away. You have to deal with an issue in the kitchen and one with the supply closets. Its almost half an hour later when you make it back behind the bar. When you get back she is standing up looking around for you.

Smiling you walk up asking her “leaving so soon?”

She chuckles and says “si, just needed some fresh air. I can grab my bill though”

You shake your head and say “it’s on the house”

“Won’t your boss be upset” she asks with a smile.

You chuckle and say “I think they’ll be okay.”

“well thank you” she says with another smile. Your name is called by another server and you turn toward them as she says “I’ll get out of your hair Y/N”

You chuckle out a bye before turning and tending to your team.The rest of the night is spent thinking about the Beautiful girl who sat at your bar. You have a feeling you recognise her but are unsure how you would. Until you are closing up and you see her face on the TV, chuckling you can’t help but think how you just embarrassed yourself in front of the queen of football.

You spend the next week elbow deep in testing a new batch of beer. It consumes you when you have an idea and you cannot put it into the taste correctly. Working late one night the bar is pretty quiet apart from a few regulars, you have taken over a table near the far side of the bar which is slightly hidden. Your notes are spread out all over the table and you are completely consumed in them until you hear your name at the bar.

You had told your staff to act like you are not here, but when you recognise the voice ask for a water you smile to your self and look up and see Alexia sitting at your bar. As you get up to walk towards her you recall that you had seen the Barca team had played earlier in the evening away.

“looking for me” you ask her as you step beside her at the bar.

Alexia and your bartender, Sam, turns towards you with their own expressions. Alexia looks happy to see you, and you bartender is giving you the raised eyebrow as she thought you didn’t want to be disturbed.

“I thought you weren’t here tonight boss” your bartender asks.

“boss?” Alexia echos.

You chuckle at them both and you say “I’m not here tonight Sam” to your bartender who gets the hint with a chuckle turning away.

“Boss?” Alexia asks you again.

Chuckling you move behind the bar and grab a small pint glasses as you tell her “I own the place.”

She looks at you and with a low whistle she says “Impressive”

“thank you” you say as you move and pour a glass of another one of your beers. You place it in front of her and say “If our deal still stands this is another one of my favourite beers”

She grabs it and asks “if you brew them all do you have a least favourite?”

You chuckle and say “not really, well just the one I cant figure out right now”

“Can I help?” she asks and takes a sip of the beer with a low moan. “sorry that one is really good” she says with a blush.

You chuckle and say “its cute” and then immediately blush and say “I just cant get what is in my head to translate into the beer. I have this taste I can imagine but I cannot find the right combination of hops and flavours to get it right” you ramble on.

“What’s the flavour?” she asks with a smile.

You blush almost forgetting she was there during your ramble and say “I am sorry you don’t want to hear me nerd out about beer”

She shakes her head and reaches across to grab your hand as she says “I kinda want to know everything you’ll share”

Before you can respond her phone buzzes and she reaches down looking at the screen and then gets up reaching for her wallet. You place your hand on her wallet and say “This one is on the house in exchange for the ramble”

“You know I can afford to pay for my beers” she says.

Immediately you shake your head and say “I know you can La reina, but I do really hope this makes you keep coming back” finishing with a wink.

She blushes at the nickname and leans across the bar and presses a kiss to your cheek as she whispers into your ear “You will make me come back.” She then turns and walks towards the door turning at the door with a wink she disappears.

You continue staring at the door when you hear Sam walk back behind you and say “Nice work boss, I thought you’d lose her with the beer talk”

You chuckle and whip your towel at her say “get back to work.”

The following two weeks you see Alexia 3 more times at your bar, always on days the Barca team plays. You looked her up after the last time and know she’s not playing yet but is very close to being back. You both have flirted but nothing else other than the one cheek kiss has happened. You both just keeping things light and flirty. She has slowly worked her way through some of your staple beers.

When the next Barca game happens and she doesn’t show up to the bar that night you have to admit that you were very disappointed. You knew that it was all just a fantasy and flirting but it definitely hurt that she decided you weren’t worth it.

You were deep in the back room tonight still trying to perfect your beer. You kept one small cask in the back room where you used it to experiment with your brews, this time being no different. Your desk back here was covered in notes and you had a white board with formulas and flavours all over it. During the day the back part of the brewery was a hive of activity keeping up with the demand of brewing beers, but at night it was quiet which is when you loved to use the time to work on your own stuff.

Tonight was no different, you were still a bit hurt and disappointed in your self for being hurt about Alexia so thats why you were staying hidden in the back not out front tonight. The staff knew you were here and knew not to bug you when you were back here.

So when you heard the door open you didn’t even look back when you said “Sam I thought I told you not to interrupt me tonight”

You hear the steps falter and someone take a deep breath as they ask “I was just looking for a glass of Aqua”

Immediately you turn and can feel your cheeks blush as you say “Alexia, what are you doing here?”

She still doesn’t come any closer as she says “I wanted to tell you something, and then if you want me to not interrupt you I will go”

You nod at her and lean back against the desk behind you.

She slowly steps towards you and says “I know you know who I am, and you should know then that I have been injured and not playing for awhile?”

You nod and smile saying softly “I do know that”

She keeps slowly stepping closer as she continues “Well that first time I walked in here, was after one of the teams away games. I still wasn’t travelling with the team and I watched them almost lose and knew that I let them down. So I needed some air and went for a walk, I saw the sign on your bar and decided to come in and have some water and then leave.”

“But you didn’t” you tell her softly as she stops in front of you.

“No I didn’t” she says. “for the first time in a very long time I forgot who I was letting down, I was able to just be me Alexia, not me the captain who let her team down. That was because of you, something about you just drew me in and I kept coming back any time we played so I could be that person again.”

You smile softly at her and say “I am glad to help.”

“Last night was my first game back Y/N” She smiles at you.

You smile back and say “I am proud of you Ale”

She steps another step closer so she is right in front of you and grabs your hands softly as she says “The only reason I was able to be back last night and not let the team down was because I kept picturing your voice in my head talking about beer. It helped to ground me and remind me that I am Alexia as well as the captain”

You close the gap even more and move your hand to her cheek as you say “I am glad that you have that then Ale. I am honoured to be able to do that for you”

She steps closer and looks down at your lips looking back up meeting your eyes you nod slightly and lean in slowly. You feel her breathe on your lips when the door slams open again and Sam walks in as she says “Sorry boss, need to change the keg.”

Immediately Alexia has sprung back from you and you both turn slightly away from each other. “It’s okay Sam come in.”

“I should go” Alexia says “I have training early tomorrow”

“You don't have to go” you say at the same time Sam says “did I interrupt?”

“No you didn’t Sam, I was just leaving” Alexia says as she flees the back room.

“sorry boss?” Sam says with a smirk.

“Sam?”

“Yeah boss?”

“how did she get back here?” you ask her.

She shrugs and grabs the keg and says “I may have told her to come back here at her own risk”

“But you still interrupted?” you ask.

She laughs and says “honestly I forgot, and needed a keg badly. I really didn’t think you would been that position though boss”

You blush and move to help her as you say “me either”

That moment was burned in your brain, every free moment you had your brain was immediately back in the store room. You watched her sit on the bench in the following champions league game, but you at least now knew why she didn’t come in to the bar on that day. You waited the rest of the week for her to show again, she didn’t.

It was just before bar opening on the day of the second leg of the champions league. You knew that it was home game and you knew that you wouldn’t see her today. You were hoping she would show tomorrow but you can only hope.

You were sat at the bar, with your note book open and three samples of your newest beer in front of you trying to decide which one would be the closest to the taste you want. You hear the door open and turn and to greet who you would think is one of your servers since you aren’t open and instead you are shocked and say “Alexia! I didn’t expect to see you today.”

She is dressed in her pre game outfit when she walks closer to you and says “I needed to see you before I go to play today.”

You look at her with a questioning look and ask “you did?”

She stops right in front of you and says “I cant get you out of my head Y/N”

“You can’t?”

She turns you and spins you towards her on your stool. She steps right in between your legs and says “I keep thinking about kissing you Y/N, and I know I should be able to focus on football, but I just keep thinking about you”

“Thats not good than Ale, what are you going to do?” you ask with a smirk.

She smiles and says “I know what I want to do but I do not have the time for that.”

You chuckle and move your hands to her hips and you ask “want to make a deal?”

Smirking she nods and says “what’s the deal?”

“You go out and with the champions league and you can kiss me as much as you want” you say with a smirk moving your hand to her cheek.

She laughs and holds out her hand between you and asks “Only if I can take you out on a date too?”

“deal” and you put your hand in hers shaking it softly.

“I have to go” she says softly

You nod and whisper “good luck Ale” before turning and grabbing your pen and writing your number down on a piece of paper. You hand it to her with a smirk saying “I hope this will help you focus now”

She smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek saying “I have an objective now I will be fully focused on completing it.” as she backs away slowly.

You chuckle watching her and say “Good luck la reina”

The month in between the day the deal was made and the champions league final was a tense one, in the best way possible. Anytime you both texted, which was any free time between her trainings and games and your bar, the flirting was relentless. You only saw her twice in the month but she confessed to you that she couldn’t see you or else she would have to, in her words, “press you against the wall and make you see stars.”

You knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off her either but you wanted to hear her voice, which lead to phone calls every single night. No matter how late you were at the bar she would sleepy wake up just to ask you about your day.

The day of the final she called you as she was about to leave in a bit of panic. She needed to hear your voice to remind her that she is Alexia too and not just the captain. All of the media and build up of her return was getting into her head and you knew she just needed to be grounded. You happily helped and reminded her of your deal and you couldn’t wait to taste her.

The bar threw a watch party and it was packed. The mood was sombre at halftime with Barca being down 2-0. You nervously paced waiting for the second half. When it started and Alexia came on at the start of half you couldn’t help but smile.

It was like the team changed with her and when immediately it sparked the team to score 2 quick goals the bar was electric cheering. When the 85th minute rolled around you were nervous, but you knew that once you saw Alexia gather a crappy clearance from the wolfsburg back line this was it. She cut in once around a defender just above the top of the 18 where she lined up and put a screamer in the top left corner.

That was it, they held on and the bar was electric and the party lasted all night. You snuck away to speak to Alexia briefly on the phone, but she couldn’t talk as she was pulled away. You turned the excitement you had and finally got the mixture right on your beer. You immediately had given samples out to have a second opinion and it was a hit.

She inspired you just like you did to her. When the parade for the team was organised and you knew they would be coming out side your bar you kept an eye out. Once it was the time for them to come this way, you pushed your way to the front of the crowd.

When the team came around the corner you hoped that you would be able to catch her. It was like when she came around the corner she could sense you, as she immediately met your eyes and her smile lit up her whole face.

You watched as she turned and almost sprinted to you, when she reached you she had placed her hands on your hips pulling you in. You placed your hand around her neck with a smile as she says “A deal is a deal Y/N”

You nod and say “You won it all Ale, time for my end of the deal” and you lean and press your lips to hers hard. She immediately presses back and you lose yourself in her forgetting about the crowd around you. You just feel the sparks only she has been able to give you.

When the need to breathe comes to much you both pull back and you slowly hear the crowd around you again, where you pull back slightly and whisper “wow.”

She smiles and says “I gotta go finish this thing” with a jerk of her thumb over her shoulder.

Nodding you say “come by after and you can finally taste my favourite beer I just finished”

She smiles wide “you finished it?”

“I did”

“Then I cannot wait, but only if it comes with the finest aqua you have” she says with a smile and you cant help but laugh and press your lips to hers one more time.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso imagines #Alexia Putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #espwnt x reader

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sacramentohistorymuseum · 7 months ago

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We have a new exhibit at the Sacramento History Museum about the history of beer in our city! Thirsty '49ers, fertile soil, and the Transcontinental Railroad turned beer and brewing into Sacramento's other Gold Rush. Covering brewing up to today, our new exhibit, Liquid Gold: Sacramento’s Brew History, is on display until July 22nd.

In this video, Jared letterpress printed some cards to go along with our new exhibit. The cards were printed with black rubber base ink using a 3x5 Kelsey Excelsior tabletop printing press. The card reads, “Liquid Gold: Sacramento’s Brew History.” The font is 30 point Caslon for the first line and 24 point for the other lines. The electrotype of a brewer was made in the 1890s and is from the Lewis Winter Collection. These prints are free for visitors who see the exhibit. At the end of the video, Jared gives a quick look at the exhibit. Thank you to all the local breweries for contributing to this exhibit and for your support!

#history #museum #sacramento #beer #letterpress #printing #art #asmr #printmaking #old sacramento

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brewscoop · 5 months ago

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🎉 Join us as we celebrate the 30th Anniversary Music Festival at Saint Arnold Brewing Company! 🍻 Enjoy an all-day extravaganza featuring top Houston musicians like Kam Franklin, Devin the Dude, Robert Ellis, and more. Special limited-edition beers, local vendors, and a fantastic community vibe await you. Don’t miss out on this epic event! #SaintArnoldBrewing #30thAnniversary #HoustonMusicFest

#Saint Arnold Brewing Company is celebrating its 30th anniversary in the style. Houston’s oldest craft brewery will toast itself with an all-#the company worked with Houston’s Splice Records and Kam Franklin #lead singer and founder of The Suffers #to recruit the lineup. Joining Franklin on the bill will be rapper Devin the Dude #singer-songwriter Robert Ellis #and hip hop artist Fat Tony. Splice Records is also contributing three of its artists: R&B act Bayou City Funk #DJ Shante #and the Blue Heron Yacht Club. The night will end with all four headliners teaming up to perform as The Houston Super Group in a never-been #and Ellis appeared on stage at the 25th. Both hip hop artists are performing at the brewery for the first time. Courtesy of Saint Arnold Br #its people #the culture and the limitless creative potential that exists here #” Franklin said in a statement. “I’ve invited old and new collaborators to be a part of this evening with me #and I’m grateful to everyone involved for trusting me to lead this. It’s going to be a beautiful night in our city.” From humble beginning #Saint Arnold has established itself as a Houston institution. Over 30 years #it has released more than 100 beers #including staples such as Amber Ale #Art Car IPA #Lawnmower #and the new Grand Prize lager. “It’s such a privilege to celebrate 30 years of brewing beer in Houston #” Saint Arnold founder and owner Brock Wagner said. “The support Houstonians and the craft beer industry have shown us is immeasurable. We h #limited-edition beers throughout the day and a market featuring local vendors. Houstonian John Mills-McCoin will be the festival’s emcee an #Saint Arnold has been allowing us to enjoy their work of golden #sudsy perfection #” Mills-McCoin said. “It’s an absolute honor and privilege to be a part of this event and to show my appreciation for the National Beer of H #a 30th Anniversary glass #four beers #and a dinner buffet. Parking passes are available for $20. The beer garden’s kitchen and tap wall will be open all day with food and drinks #festival #music #craft beer

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rizlowwritessortof · 7 months ago

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Waiting for the Real Thing

Yes, after one episode, I did it. I wrote a Russell Shaw fic. I know.

You can't serve in the same unit with somebody without getting pretty close. She managed to survive around him until a couple of years ago. And when she hears about their brother-in-arms troubles, she heads that way to help out. Of course, Russ beat her to it. And now she just can't make herself leave without seeing him.

Pairing: Russell Shaw/OC (Andi)

Word Count: 2759

Warnings: A little angst, a little smut, a little more angst and some fluff thrown in here and there for good measure 🙂

Dividers by the always amazing @firefly-graphics

Andi hesitated a moment before knocking. She could still walk away, pretend she hadn’t ‘accidentally’ found him. She’d be better off. At least her heart would be.

She knocked anyway.

He opened the door cautiously, eyes quickly taking her in, then scanning the area before landing on her again. His smile widened slowly, and he stepped back, gesturing with a tilt of his head for her to come into the room.

She couldn’t help grinning back at him, waiting for him to put his gun on the table before he grabbed her into a bear hug that she answered with equal enthusiasm. “Hey, Russ.”

He moved back, beaming into her face. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s been – what – two years?”

“Almost. How are you?”

Russell pulled out a chair and gestured for her to have a seat. “I’m good. Well, my arm’s a little sore, but I’ll live.” He handed her a beer from the mini-fridge and sat down across the table from her. “So seriously, what brings you to this neck of the woods?”

Andi opened her beer and took a long swallow. “Heard about Doug. Of course, by the time I got here, you already had it taken care of. Stopped by his place, he told me where you were staying – I just took a shot that you were still here.” She nodded towards his arm. “I heard you caught a bullet. Did you see a doctor?”

Russell rolled his eyes a little and nodded, answering with a cheerfully gruff tolerance. “Yes, mom, I saw a doctor. Antibiotics and everything, don’t worry. ‘Course I went through Horizon, the locals get all bent out of shape when there’s a gunshot injury.”

“Good. I know how you are. I can just see you still out on the job, wailing on bad guys with your one good arm.” She let her smile fade. “So you met up with Colter. How’d that go?”

He smiled. “Good, I think. Cleared the air some. At least he doesn’t still think I killed our dad.” He leaned back in his chair, those candid green eyes of his taking her in. “It’s really good to see you, Andi.” He took a swig from his bottle. “So what are you up to these days?”

“Actually, I’m heading to Fort Worth. I start a job there next week. I’ll be running system security for a computer software company down there.”

Russ gave her that crooked, disarming smile that never failed to make her heartbeat pause for a second. “You always did have that sexy nerd thing goin’ on. That’s awesome, really.” He sat forward, bracing himself on his forearms. “Think you can handle that, sitting behind a desk all day?”

She smiled back at him. “Hell, yes. I’m ready for a quiet life. I’ve had enough gunfire and chaos to last me the rest of my days.” She rose to her feet and tossed her bottle, helping herself to another beer. Russ nodded as she waved it at him, and she grabbed one for him, setting it in front of him as she sat down again. “What about you? When are you gonna give it up? You’ve been talking about opening that little brewery for years now.”

“I’ll get there someday. I don’t know, if I’m not in the middle of somethin’, I just get – antsy.”

Her expression grew more serious, and she looked down at the table. “Yeah. Gotta keep moving – because if you hold still long enough, you might get attached to something. Or someone.” She opened her beer and took a long pull, setting it down and still avoiding Russell’s eyes when he spoke again.

“I’m sorry, Andi.” His voice was soft, barely audible, and he reached out to put a calloused hand over hers. “You have every right to be pissed at me for taking off like I did.”

She shook her head. “We never made any promises. I just thought, after that few days – I don’t know. I thought we had something. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.”

He took hold of her hand, and she looked up at him, the expression in her eyes sending a stab of guilt through his chest. “We did have something. We do. I just – I know I’m fucking bad at this shit.” He ducked his head down a little, peering up into her eyes. “We’re okay, right? You mean a lot to me, I don’t wanna lose – well, whatever the hell this is.”

A smile crept onto her face, and she shook her head. “You and those damn puppy dog eyes. Yes, we’re okay. We’ll always be okay.” She shifted in her chair, partly as an excuse to pull her hand away. There was only so much actual contact she could take without losing what little control she had around him. “So, tell me about what happened with Doug. And with Colter.”

He began to talk, filling her in about the mission to save their friend and his reunion with his brother. His voice always struck a chord down deep inside her, made her feel like her soul was attached to him in some way, and the warmth it sent through her helped soothe the dull ache of longing that it inflicted in almost equal measure.

She was still laughing a little at his description of his exploits with his brother as he headed to the fridge for more beer. He opened hers and set it down in front of her, asking his question as he sat down. “So – is there somebody waiting for you down there? In Fort Worth?”

She tilted her head, one eyebrow raised, a little surprised at his query. “Um – no. Nobody.” She avoided his eyes as she returned fire. “How about you?”

He chuckled a little, a crooked smirk on his lips as he answered. “I make do here and there. I’ve pretty much always had to just make do.” The smirk faded as he looked into her eyes. “Except with you. You’ve always been the one they can’t live up to.”

She bit at her lip thoughtfully, glancing away and then meeting his green eyes head on. “Yeah, and you’re the one I never should have said ‘yes’ to,” she said softly.

Russ ducked his head with a rueful smile. “Yeah, you’re probably right about that.” It was quiet for a minute, then he laughed softly. “Hey, remember that time in Kabul?”

Andi joined his laughter, nodding. “Yep. I was so much smarter back then.”

“Smart-ass. Yeah, and mean. Hurt a guy’s feelings, sayin’ shit like that. Not to mention the knee.”

“That was an accident.”

“Sure, it was,” he teased. “Guess I left you alone after that, though, so – mission accomplished.”

“That was back before I knew you so well.”

“We did start off a little rocky.”

They reminisced through the rest of their beer, then Andi stretched and stood up. “I’m gonna borrow your little boy’s room, and then I want to look at that bullet wound before I go. I’m guessing you haven’t changed the dressing today?”

“Haven’t gotten around to it,” he hedged, and she shook her head.

“Yeah. I figured. Be right back.”

She walked out of the bathroom just in time to see him peel off his t-shirt. “Bad idea, this was a bad idea,” she mentally scolded herself, then squared her shoulders and went to where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “Pretty sore?” she asked as he grimaced a little at the movement.

“It’s not too bad. I’ve had worse.”

“I know. I’ve bandaged them.”

“Well, I know you’ve got a more gentle touch than Colter, so I’m glad of that.”

She laughed, perching on the edge of the bed beside him and repositioning his arm to examine his wound. “I’m gonna clean this up a little, then I’ll wrap it for you again before I take off,” she said, grabbing an alcohol wipe from the first aid kit sitting beside them. He winced as she worked, as carefully as she could manage. Then she applied fresh gauze and wrapped his bicep again, trying to ignore the feelings that touching him were stirring up inside her. “There. That should hold you for a day or two. If you’re careful in the shower.”

She raised her head, and the look in his eyes made her pulse skip. “Thanks,” he said softly, and she nodded.

“You’re welcome.” He was still staring at her, so she busied herself putting the supplies back into the kit, until he leaned a little closer, breathing her name. He reached to brush her hair back from her neck, and she felt goosebumps bloom all over her body as his fingers touched her skin.

“Andi. Stay tonight.” He nuzzled his face into her hair. “Please.”

She leaned her head into his, her voice barely there when she finally spoke. “Damn you, Russ.”

He pulled back, letting his hand move to the back of her neck as he brushed his lips over hers. “That’s a yes, right?”

Andi laughed softly. “Yes, that’s a yes.”

He made a triumphant little face that made her giggle, then whispered, “Thank God,” before he kissed her for real.

He felt warm and solid beneath her hands as they roamed the muscular expanse of his back, his scars beneath her fingers a violent history, a unique braille that only those who have lived that life could read. She knew a lot of those scars intimately, had lived through them with him, had survived those events at his side. Remembering how close they had come to not making it home made this moment all the more intense, and she clung tightly to him as he laid her back on the bed.

He finally raised his head, her lips reluctantly parting from his, and he reached for the hem of her shirt, bracing himself on his good arm to help her work it up and over her head. She rolled slightly to give him access to her bra, and that joined her shirt on the floor as she laid back. His eyes roamed over her almost reverently before he bent to kiss her again, her breasts crushed to his chest as he rolled to his back, holding her close.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he muttered against her lips, then groaned as she sat up, his erection trapped underneath her. She grinned, circling her hips against him before moving down to straddle his thighs as she reached for his zipper. “Bad girl.”

“Or is it - ‘good girl?’” she teased, laughing softly as he sighed in relief as she unfastened his jeans. “Feel better?”

“Feels okay. Could feel better,” he coaxed, and she slipped her fingertips into the waistband of his boxers.

“Such a whiner.” She pulled his boxers down and playfully swatted the side of his hip, waiting for him to lift up so she could pull them down to his knees. She bent to kiss the head of his cock before sucking it gently into her mouth, humming as he threw his head back into the pillow, swearing softly. She worked him deeper and deeper, finally sucking hard as she pulled off to look up into his glassy-eyed gaze. “I missed you, too.”

He moved quickly, grabbing her by the shoulders and flipping her to her back again, hands busily unfastening her jeans, bending to suck a nipple into his mouth and teasing at it with his tongue. She buried her hands in his hair, back arching a little at the sparks of pleasure he sent through her. He tugged her jeans and panties down, leaving her for a moment to rid her of them completely and finish kicking his off as well. Then he crawled back up between her thighs and dropped a kiss to her mound, looking up with a wicked grin before moving down further.

God, he remembered every tiny thing that drove her mad, and in no time he had her writhing beneath him, her hands gripping his hair as she begged and called his name again and again. She flung her arms wide when she came, and before she stopped pulsing and shuddering, he moved up and pushed inside her to the hilt.

“Jesus, fuck, Russ!” she cried out, clutching wildly at his shoulders as he buried his face in her neck, holding himself in deep and riding out her orgasm. When she finally began to relax, he kissed the soft skin of her neck and throat, then finally her lips, their breath gently mingling as she calmed.

“Goddamn, that was amazing,” he whispered, and she smiled drunkenly up at him.

“You’re tellin’ me.” She shifted her hips a little, moaning softly. “You feel so good, baby.”

“Yeah? You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he murmured into their kiss, and she smiled.

“You’re so full of yourself,” she teased, and she felt his lips curve into a grin before he lifted himself up to look down at her.

“What a coincidence, so are you.” She giggled, then gasped as he drew back and drove deep, rocking into her with a relentless, delicious rhythm that stopped them both from speaking coherently. She wrapped her legs around his hips, meeting each thrust, clinging to him tight as their moans and sighs filled the room. She came hard, digging her nails into his back as her muscles seized, and after a few more frantic strokes, he joined her with a loud moan.

She held him, fingers combing through his hair as they laid there recovering, determined to enjoy every second they had together. She could deal with the reality of after when she left tomorrow. He stirred, his breath warm on her neck, his lips gentle as he kissed her there. “You are staying the whole night, right? So we can do that again?”

She smiled. “Yeah, I’m staying all night. You’re so needy.”

He chuckled, nipping at her before moving to roll to his back. “When it comes to you, I am.”

She didn’t bother reminding him that he could remedy that situation. That conversation was a hopeless circle, so she ignored the thought and rolled to her side into his waiting arms.

He was quiet the next morning, watching her dress as she readied herself to leave. She was avoiding his eyes, and he felt that familiar pang of guilt that he lived with every day for the pain he knew he brought her. Someday – someday he’d get to the point of being able to live with himself without escaping into dangerous, adrenaline-filled missions, but he had no right to expect her to be there when he did.

He crawled out of bed, pulling on his boxers and walking up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. She leaned back into him, a reluctant sigh escaping before she turned to face him. “Well, I guess I should hit the road. Long drive.”

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, then bent to kiss her softly. “Sure you’re okay to drive? Not like we got a lot of sleep last night.”

She looked up into his eyes and smiled. “Worth it. I’ll probably get a room somewhere partway, don’t worry about me.” He smiled back, kissing her again, this time until she finally put a hand to his chest and pushed away. “Okay. Gotta go.” She turned to grab her jacket, slipping it on as she moved towards the door. “It was really good to see you, Russ.”

“Great seeing you, too. Just be careful.” She nodded and opened the door, turning back as he spoke again. “Next time I see you, you’ll probably be with some great guy you’ll meet down there, all happy and settled down.”

She gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, her gaze lingering on his face one last time. “Nah. I’m not much for making do. I’ll probably just keep waiting for the real thing.” She raised a hand in a little wave and headed out the door, and he stood staring at it for a time before turning away.

After a long, hot shower, he stood at the bathroom counter removing the plastic he had wrapped around his arm to protect his bandages. He looked up and met his reflection’s gaze in the mirror, and they stared at each other for a few long seconds before he frowned at himself. “Fuckin’ idiot,” he muttered, hitting the switch to turn off the light and leaving the room.

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#waiting for the real thing #russell shaw fic #angst #smut #a little fluff #i have no idea how to make tags work #fucking thank you tumblr

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