#Wine Bottle Container

[worldwinebottles]

Packaging For Wine Bottles

Wine preparation is quite delicate, the preservation process is more delicate. Without proper preservation, the taste and quality of wine deteriorate. On the other hand, the preservation process differs in the quality of the organoleptic qualities. On the other hand, product marketing and distribution are essential to grasp the market all over the world. So, packaging for wine bottles needs quite a bit of concentration, and technical experience so that the packaging goes right for it.

[nocentis]

x

[gingerwerk]

Getting wine drunk at a paid work function is all fun and games until suddenly it’s 8 at night you’ve been home for hours but you’ve just been laying in a half dead stupor in bed

[lupismaris]

I wish you all the unparalleled joy and serenity of a clean and organized refrigerator. Truly. This is the closest thing to peace.

[weaselle]

i had to make a solution for this for myself, mostly because of depression, but it makes a nice How To for folks who are low on spoons or could use some help in the kitchen.

Fortunately i was a professional cook for over a decade. UNfortunately the first post i made explaining it was suuuuper long. Let's see if i can do better

So you select any protein that you can cook in a frying pan -- chicken breasts, ground beef, pork chops, sausages, steak, chicken thighs, whatever. You also select one or two types of veggie (mushrooms or tubers also work, i just did this with potatoes and carrots for dinner tonight).

[i like cooking for vegetarians, but this is how i cook for myself when i'm low on spoons - perhaps i'll do another post for meatless meals]

You'll also need some kind of oil, and a sauce or two of your choice in a bottle. All cooking gear is a large frying pan with lid (i prefer non-stick) a spatula, a cutting board, and a knife.

You cut the veggies into bite size pieces, cut up enough for two meals. One kind of veggie is fine, or you can do mix two or three

Put frying pan on medium heat with a little oil. Tubers or mushrooms or go in the pan a few minutes before the protein. 2 portions of the protein goes in the pan, about 5 minutes with lid (don't worry you can still get a good sear on both sides)

Now flip your protein if it's flip-able and add normal veggies, put the lid back on another five-ish minutes.

Take your protein out and put it with one portion of the veggies in a microwave safe container. That's going to be your lunch tomorrow. Put the other portion of protein on a plate to rest (you have to let a cooked protein sit a couple minutes before you serve it or when you cut into it all the juices run out and it goes dry - the liquids thicken as it cools, preventing this drying out if you let it rest, the goal is to serve it very warm but not hot hot)

While it's resting, pour some sauce from your bottle in the pan with the rest of the veggies and turn up the heat. A single sauce/bottle is fine, i like to get fancy and mix a couple. Two examples of personal favorite mixes are 1: bbq sauce and a hot sauce like sriracha 2: roughly equal parts low sodium soy sauce and worcestershire (makes something similar to a teriyaki sauce) A swallow of wine is almost always a great option if you want to add that to your sauce too, just add it to the pan before the other sauces so the alcohol has time to burn off.

...

Here is the important bit. While your veggies are finishing, wash your cutting board and chef knife. Then when you dump your veggies and sauce over your protein on the plate, while it is still too hot to eat, you wash your frying pan and spatula before you eat. Now the only dishes you have left to do are your plate and fork. Maybe a steak knife.

...

The whole thing takes about 35 minutes even with washing the dishes, and that includes your lunch for the next day- just pour a different sauce on and stick it in the microwave for a couple minutes (or five minutes back in the frying pan) and you have a full healthy lunch with a different flavor

You can use this technique every single meal and it yields hundreds of combinations, from pork and potatoes bbq, to salmon and broccoli teriyaki, to chicken and zucchini in a soy glaze.

It will keep you down to less than an hour of kitchen time per day total for both lunch and dinner including all dish clean up, uses the least dishes, the least effort, requires the least technique, and is, depending on what you pick out, very affordable

here are a couple more examples from this month; i didn’t take pictures of the salmon i did recently, but you get the idea

it's not super fancy, but it is easy, affordable, quick, and any flavors you want. Hope this helps some folks

Happy Cooking!

[yaboy-miz]

Self care is drawing yourself as a tiny little guy in a teacup, or really any class or ceramic container

[boyapologist]

it's that kind of day

[malpractice-morale]

the bar for concerning amounts of alcohol is so low it prompted a person in class to ask if we aren’t then all engaging in “risky behavior”. the prof’s answer was yes.

and if we are talking about alcohol addiction “normal” college/university drinking behavior is just one of hundreds of examples where really the only difference between an addict and a person who indulges is socioeconomic

[syrinq]

why in the hell water tastes extremely different to the point it's disgusting when drank from a cup or glass or any container that isn't the original water bottle is beyond me

my ass only tolerant to drink water + refilled tap water out of the bottle it belongs in and nothing else because then it actually tastes nice :)

[driverlando]

✧.* TOTALLY US

synopsis - sometimes sex isn’t all sunshine and flowers, you and Oscar know that better then anyone else

before you continue: this contains smut so minors dni!! if you enjoy pls do give it a reblog, it means a lot to us writers :)

You never thought a quiet evening in could turn so hilariously chaotic, but here you were, tangled up with Oscar on your bed, the two of you giggling uncontrollably between heated kisses.

It had started innocently enough; a quiet dinner, a shared bottle of wine, conversations that flowed effortlessly and a movie neither of you had paid much attention to. Now, with the credits long since rolled, you were a tangled mess of limbs, caught somewhere between passion and laughter.

Oscar’s fingers traced lazy circles on your arm, sending shivers down your spine. You turned to face him, your heart skipping a beat at the playful glint in his eyes.

“Want to watch another one?” you asked, though your voice was heavy with a different kind of anticipation.

Oscar smirked. “I have a better idea.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that made your toes curl. You responded eagerly, hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, his hands roaming your body with increasing urgency.

“Bedroom?” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot on your skin.

“Yes,” you managed to reply, your voice breathless with desire.

You barely made it to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way, leaving a trail of discarded garments that marked your path. By the time you reached the bed, you were both down to your underwear, the air between you electric with anticipation.

Oscar’s hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a mix of tenderness and urgency. He pushed you gently onto the bed, hovering over you, his eyes dark with desire.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice husky.

You felt a flush of heat spread across your skin, your body responding to his words and touch. He kissed you again, deep and passionate, before moving to your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire down your throat and across your collarbone.

His hands found the clasp of your bra, and with a deft flick, he tried to undo it. He fumbled for a moment, making you giggle against his mouth.

“Need some help?” you teased.

“I got it,” he insisted, though his fingers were still struggling. After a few more seconds of awkward fumbling, he finally managed to unclasp it, and you laughed together as he tossed it aside.

“Stupid thing” he murmured before moving his mouth lower, his lips and tongue teasing your nipples until you were squirming beneath him. You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and you reached for him, eager to feel him fully.

He responded by slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs and discarding them. He paused to shed his own remaining clothes, and then he was back, his body pressing against yours, the heat between you almost unbearable.

Oscar’s hand slipped between your thighs, fingers finding your most sensitive spot. You gasped, your hips arching into his touch. He teased you, drawing out your pleasure until you were begging for more.

“Please, Osc,” you moaned, your voice trembling with need.

“Patience,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “I want to make this last.”

His fingers continued their slow, torturous rhythm, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Just as you were about to tip over, you felt a sharp pain in your leg. A cramp, you realised. You winced, trying to stretch it out without breaking the mood, but Oscar noticed immediately.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern etched on his face, replacing the lust in his eyes.

“Cramp,” you winced, trying to stretch out your leg. “Just a cramp.”

Oscar chuckled, massaging your calf gently. “We really know how to set the mood, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, we’re a real romantic comedy.”

With the cramp finally easing, you resumed where you left off. Oscar’s fingers brought you back to the edge, his touch expert and teasing. You were so close, your body trembling with anticipation.

He moved over you again, positioning himself between your legs. As he pushed into you, you both gasped at the sensation, the connection electric. He started to move, slow and deliberate at first, each thrust building the intensity.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails digging into his back. The pleasure was overwhelming, each movement pushing you closer to the edge.

“God, you feel amazing,” Oscar groaned, his voice husky with desire.

“So do you,” you managed to reply, your fingers tracing the muscles of his back.

Oscar began to pick up the pace, the rhythm quickening, the intensity building with each movement. You felt the tension coiling in your belly, your body trembling with anticipation.

And then, in a sudden shift, Oscar’s elbow slipped and accidentally jabbed you in the ribs. You yelped, more surprised than hurt, and he immediately froze.

“Sorry!” he exclaimed, eyes wide with concern.

You laughed, the absurdity of the moment breaking the tension, your giggles turning into full blown laughter. “It’s okay. We’re really on a roll tonight, huh? It’s been a disaster”

Oscar grinned, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and urgent. “Only a little,” he murmured against your mouth. “But we can make it work.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before adjusting the two of you to find a better position.

This time, when he entered you again, it was with a slow, deliberate thrust that made you both moan with pleasure. The rhythm resumed, the connection between you growing stronger with each movement.

You felt the tension build again, your body arching into his. Just as you were on the brink, his phone rang. You both froze, staring at the offending device.

“Ignore it,” you pleaded, your voice shaky.

Oscar glanced at the screen. “It’s my mom.”

“Seriously?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Can this night get any more ridiculous?”

He silenced the phone, tossing it aside. “She’s just going to have to wait.”

You laughed, pulling him back to you. “Good choice.”

Oscar’s lips met yours again, and the fire between you reignited instantly. His hands roamed your body, each touch reigniting the pleasure that had been building. He moved inside you again, the sensation even more intense than before.

You moved together, the rhythm perfect, the pleasure building rapidly. This time, there were no more interruptions. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, laughter giving way to gasps and moans. You finally reached that elusive peak together, the pleasure washing over you both in waves.

Afterward, you lay tangled in each other’s arms, hearts racing and smiles plastered on your faces.

“That was…something,” Oscar said, his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and amusement.

“Yeah,” you agreed, snuggling closer. “Definitely something. And totally us.”

He kissed the top of your head, a contented sigh escaping his lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And neither would you.

[worldwinebottles]

Wine Bottle Capsules Suppliers

We offer both USA manufactured glass and Overseas bottles for all of your packaging needs. We also offer custom printed boxes made locally or overseas. We maintain a low overhead and can pass the savings on to our customers. Our staff of experts view our relationships with our customers as partnerships. We are here to help guide you through the process of selecting the best packaging solutions that fit your brand and budget. Experience the Difference! SERVICE, SELECTION & PRICE make World Wine Bottles & Packaging Solutions the Best Choice.

https://www.worldwinebottles.com/

[blueiscoool]

Oldest Wine Ever Discovered in Liquid Form Found in Untouched Roman Tomb

A 2,000-year-old Roman funerary urn unearthed in southern Spain has been shown to contain the oldest wine ever found still in liquid form.

Discovered during home renovations at a property in Carmona in 2019, the contents of the urn were analyzed by a team of scientists from the University of Cordoba in a study published Monday.

Study lead author José Rafael Ruiz Arrebola, a professor of organic chemistry at the university, said that the urn was found to contain cremated remains, burned ivory thought to come from a funeral pyre and around 4.5 liters (1.2 gallons) of reddish liquid.

“When the archaeologists opened the urn we almost froze,” he said. “It was very surprising.”

The team then carried out a chemical analysis of the liquid and found that it was wine.

This was a big surprise, because wine normally evaporates quickly and is chemically unstable, Ruiz Arrebola said.

“This means it is almost impossible to find what we have found,” he said, explaining that the wine had been preserved by a hermetic seal that prevented it from evaporating, but it is not clear how the seal formed.

Further chemical analysis allowed the team to identify the liquid as a white wine, as it didn’t contain syringic acid, a substance only present in red wines, Ruiz Arrebola said.

It also has a similar mineral salt composition to the fino wines produced today in the region, he added.

“It’s something unique,” said Ruiz Arrebola. “We have been lucky to find it and analyze it – it’s something you only see once in your life.”

The researchers believe their discovery dethrones the current holder of the record for oldest wine in a liquid state, the Speyer wine bottle, found in Germany, which is thought to be around 1,700 years old. However, the age of the Speyer bottle has not been confirmed by chemical analysis.

The vessel was one of six funerary urns containing remains found in the mausoleum.

The discovery of a gold ring and other valuable artifacts suggest it was built by a family of considerable wealth, Ruiz Arrebola said.

However, little else is known about their lives, because cremation would have destroyed any DNA, he explained, adding that this means it is impossible to say whether the six people were related.

Ruiz Arrebola now plans to try to work out which modern-day local wine it was most similar to, although there are hundreds to work through.

By Jack Guy.

[kitkat13001]

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚘𝚑, 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚠…

⤷ mha x f!reader (use of she/her pronouns, fem. relationship labels)

⭑ number-one hero deku, sitting on the couch across from his girlfriend in his pajamas, applying matching green face masks and giggling at the mess they’re making

⭑ cold and formidable pro-hero shoto, cross-legged on the wood-paneled floor with his wife as they share a bottle of wine, despite the large vacant table and long vacant counter, laughing quietly about the most recent scandal at work

⭑ great explosion murder god dynamight, begging for mercy as his fiancée sits atop his chest grinning triumphantly and tickling him without remorse, his eyes watering and lungs burning because she knows exactly the spot that makes him unravel 

⭑ fashion icon pinky, known for her model-worthy looks, bundled up in blankets and stolen hoodies and mismatched socks and sweatpants with her girlfriend as the two of them binge-watch all five seasons of riverdale 

⭑ charming and dashing hero chargebolt, sitting in front of the tv at seven am, sharing a blanket with his fiancée and watching cartoons and eating cereal because neither of them wanted to cook and definitely not resembling two responsible adults whose wedding is in two months

⭑ the ever cool and composed ingenium absolutely losing his shit because his wife was unaware that the dominos pasta containers are aluminum and cannot go in the microwave, as they found out the hard way, the pair now staring at a crispy microwave and charred countertop

⭑ sweet and kind uravity who becomes an absolute menace when up against her girlfriend at mario kart because they agreed the loser would do the dishes and she refuses to even touch that mountain of plates after tamale night 

⭑ the manliest of all heroes, red riot, who swears there is no manlier thing than going for drive-thru at one in the morning with his fiancée in the passenger seat because they had a fry craving

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover 3 - A.H

a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be

i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part two here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras

wc: 4.2k

Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.

Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.

You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.

You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.

But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.

With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"

You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.

"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.

You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.

"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."

"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."

You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.

After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.

"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."

Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."

"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."

That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.

"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"

Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.

"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.

"Thank you."

His phone went off. "Hotchner."

Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.

The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."

And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.

You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.

The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.

Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.

You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.

So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.

"Need help?"

"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.

"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."

The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."

"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"

A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.

"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."

Ew.

You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"

His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.

Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.

"That won't be necessary."

The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.

The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."

It really wasn't a question.

The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.

Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."

His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"

But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."

"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.

Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.

The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.

It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.

The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.

It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."

Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"

You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."

He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.

"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."

You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"

The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.

Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."

"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."

His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."

Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.

"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."

"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."

"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"

"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."

You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."

"Because last night—,"

"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."

A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."

"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"

You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

"Well, yeah."

"Screw you, Hotch."

You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.

Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.

Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.

Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."

There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."

Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.

His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.

"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"

You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.

"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.

"So, you know what it's like, huh?"

Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.

"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.

You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.

"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.

"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.

"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"

Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."

"Oh yeah?"

You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."

"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."

You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."

"And why is that?"

"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.

His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.

Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"

You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.

"I need a verbal yes or no."

Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."

"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."

"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.

His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.

"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.

You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him. 

His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.

His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"

You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.

A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus. 

"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.

"Is that good, honey?"

Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.

The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain. 

A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours. 

"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."

"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."

You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly. 

"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.

"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.

"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.

"That's it, baby, go ahead."

That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.

You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth. 

Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment. 

He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud. 

You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.

You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.

"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.

"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."

Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."

"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."

"Right."

He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. 

You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.

taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord

[monstersflashlight]

Advent calendar: Day 19. Winter solstice

Fae x fem!reader || chasing, predator/prey (kinda), size difference, dirty talk

Never drink or eat with the fae, never ran from a fae and never thank a fae. Those were very simple instructions...

And still you failed all of them.

Truth be told, the first one you couldn’t be the one to blame. It was your first date at a restaurant, and you didn’t even know he was fae. You only knew he was the hottest person you’d ever seen, and he was so tall he could look down at you even when sitting. He was as tall as a tower and made you feel tiny next to him, which only made you like him more.

“Would you like some wine?” He offered, tilting the bottle in your direction.

And before you could think twice about it, you said: “Yeah, sure,” with a smile on your lips.

The smirk that broke on his face was bigger than any human, with too many teeth and somewhat a bit creepy, but you still felt your heart skip a beat. He was just so handsome, so incredibly ethereal and regal that you couldn’t look away. And you didn’t. You stared at him through the rest of the date, and when he brought you home and kissed your cheek, you swooned.

Two weeks later he told you he was fae, and you didn’t care about it. You forgot about the wine, and you forgot about anything else that could blur your image of him. He was just so perfect for you. His tall as fuck frame cuddled around your body perfectly when you watched movies. His big hands cupped your ass greatly when you were making out like teenagers.

There was only one thing missing… sex.

You wanted to have sex with him so bad, but he kept saying it was going to be on a special date. It had to be in the winter solstice. It had to be in the forest. And you… you only saw your biggest fantasy coming to life. A big scary fae chasing you through the forest to fuck you in the open? Yes, please.

You were half freezing, but the cold air against your skin felt almost good as you stared into each other eyes. “Don’t run from me, little human…” He teased, the roughness on his tone making you shiver in anticipation, your pussy quivering. You wanted to run, you knew you shouldn’t, but you wanted it so bad you couldn’t contain yourself.

So you ran. And he growled.

He gave you a head start, you knew he did. There was no way it took him that long to catch you. You were chubby and not that fast, and he was so tall he could probably catch you easily if he started running. But he didn’t run. He let you have a big head start and try to hide in the dark forest.

You were breathing hard, panting and trying to quiet your racing heart as you heard his footsteps. You tried to remain quiet, you really did. But when you heard his voice calling out your name, your body sagged and you almost felt weak at the knees. Your pussy was so wet you bet he could smell it from afar. He was whistling, calling you out and just acting nonchalant, so you decided maybe you could come out and run some more.

Not your brightest moment.

You got out of your hiding spot and started racing as fast as you could (which wasn’t that fast) as he laughed behind you. He called you out but you didn’t stop, you ran through the trees and the roots on the ground, which magically moved to let you pass, nothing in your way to trip you. You should have known better, because there was no way the forest was helping you run from him… It was helping him to catch you.

You arrived to some kind of clearing, covered in soft snow that felt almost warm to the touch, when you stopped hearing him. The utter silence around you was weirder than the forest moving, it made your skin erupt in goosebumps and your body shiver in fear and anticipation. You could only hear your heavy breathing when...

“Got you!” He whispered against your ear as you felt his body surrounding yours. You yelled in surprise, but your nerves calmed instantly. His arms around your body always had that effect. “Such a delectable smell, little human. Your body is so warm and welcoming… Should I see if other parts of you are also warm and welcoming?” He teased.

“Yes, please,” you begged, your body sagging between his arms.

“I like when you beg like that, you sound so pretty saying please,” he mocked your voice. “By the time I’m done with your luscious human body you’d be saying thanks.”

His words made you whimper, your pussy trembling in anticipation, your heartbeat mirrored on your clit. You were so ready, the pent up sexual tension you’d been building for weeks was about to get solved and your body seemed to know it before your brain did.

“Are you ready to be loved by a fae?” He asked, but he didn’t give you time to answer.

His big hands were everywhere: cupping your boobs, groping your ass, tracing the seam of your pussy over your leggings. It was exhilarating and it was driving you insane. By the time he started to undress you, you were more than needy, more than desperate.

“Are you needy, little human? Do you want my cock that bad?” You could only nod, your face flaming at the affirmative. “Aw, so cute when you blush, can’t wait to see how far that blush goes,” he said at the same time he ripped your shirt right in the middle.

You gasped as his cold hands found your boobs, massaging them like they were his personal stress balls, and you couldn’t even be mad, because his fingers found your nipples and you were crying out in pleasure.

“Mmmm, such tiny little peaks, so pretty to pinch,” he said as he did so, making you scream his name in a plea. The way he was talking to you like you were nothing but a stupid woman made something inside of you bloom.

In a fast movement, too fast to catch by your human eyes, your face was pressed against a tree, your ass pushed out so he could fuck you while on his knees. His dick was so long, you weren’t sure all of him could fit inside, but you didn’t care, and at that point you doubted he cared either. He pushed whatever he could inside, not even half of it but enough to make you scream in ecstasy as he moaned in desperation.

“You are so tight, so warm and hot, squeezing me so well,” he kept praising you. “Your pussy was made for me. A human pussy for a fae, so tiny and warm, so delicious.” His words meant anything to your fuzzy brain, his pounding melting your brain completely as he kept talking. “Next time I will have you in a bed, I will spend hours devouring your tiny cunt until you are crying for me to give you a break. But I wouldn’t. I will continue until I am sated. Your pussy belongs to me now, you belong to me now.” The possessiveness was really doing it for you, your pussy twitching around him as you chanted his name over and over. “Are you going to come around my cock, little human? Are you about to gush around me?” He asked, his big hands holding onto your ass, parting your cheeks to stare at the point where he was fucking in and out of you.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you told him, your whole body trembling. You were so close.

His chest covered your back, his hands warming your nipples as he said: “Then come for me, little human, surrender your body to the fae.”

And oh goddess did you surrender. You melted completely as pleasure took over you, your body trembling and your pussy clenching non-stop over whatever of him was inside of you. You weren’t sure how much of his dick was still inside of you, he was just so big. But you didn’t care, you were having the best orgasm of your life as his hands kept playing with your body like it was an instrument.

But when he started coming, everything went white, the sounds of the forest disappeared and the world faded into oblivion. It felt like hot molten lava inside of you, so hot it was almost too much, but at the same time you couldn’t get enough. He filled you to the brim, to the point you could feel it gushing around his dick still inside of you. The mix of his come and your juices leaking down the floor as he screamed your name for the forest to hear.

When both of you were a bit calmer, you whispered almost jokingly: “Thank you.” And you realized a bit too late what you just said…

His smirk only got evil when he responded: “It’s going to be wonderful to have all to myself, my darling human…”

You sealed your fate with the fae. Now you were his.

And you didn’t mind it.

[sundays-sims]

P O O L H A U S . (early access, patreon)

Happy June everyone!

This month's content is a little special; I worked in collaboration with PXL to create the perfect set to furnish your pool house, lounge, or living room. You will also be able to download @pixelplayground very own pool house build on her patreon here: [X] It's free & absolutely beautiful, make sure to check it out. The Pool Haus set itself contains 18 new meshes, including bar & bar stools, different surfaces (not kitchen counters, but still could be used as), deco wine fridge, tall cabinet, ceiling glass & brass shelves, some cute deco cocktails & cozy sofas. The swatches are neutrals but also include dusty blue, navy blue, olive & dark grey. I hope you enjoy!

↓ details & download link under the cut ↓

D O W N L O A D  L I N K : [X] (patreon, early access)

S E T   D E T A I L S :

sofa - 12 swatches

armchair - 12 swatches

ottoman - 12 swatches

bar stool - 24 swatches

bar - 23 swatches

ceiling shelves - 2 swatches (3 heights)

counter w. tall cabinet - 23 swatches

counter  - 23 swatches

counter w. deco wine fridge - 23 swatches

counter w. prep sink - 23 swatches (functional)

stone coffee table - 4 swatches

elderflower cocktail - 2 swatches

tequila shot - 1 swatch

wine bottle - 2 swatches (3 different versions; vertical, horizontal, angled for deco fridge)

** pool haus will be released (free) on June 29th**

→ terms of use / TOU ← / / → instagram ←