#Ms. Lavee AU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satnin-darling · 4 years ago

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III. Perfect Storm (m) | Min Yoongi, Jeon Jungkook, 6.5k

Pairing(s): Yoongi x Reader, Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You and Yoongi only saw each other when you wanted. Then, he proposed something that, till now, hardly seemed possible. But it was getting harder to ignore the fact that he’s promised to someone else. So you rebel (within, reason of course, since technically, it was allowed). And who better to spend your time with other than with Jeon Jungkook, who seems to have already taken an interest in you way before you looked his way

Warnings/Tags: RATED M (18+); for language, smut (fem-reader, multiple orgasms, marking/scratching, f-receiving oral, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - friends with benefits, eventual lovers, idk maybe; There's a bit of fluff, juuust a bit, Jungkook has tattoo's btw, they're just hidden because he's a lawyer or whatever 🤪

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‘I wasn’t actually in love, but I felt a sort of tender curiosity.'

F. Scott Fitzgerald

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Eventually, the engagement was publicised. You couldn’t avoid it. The stocks of his company rose as it coincided with a new merger. An established newspaper posted a discreet announcement, buried under a torrent of news articles. But you had caught it and kept the tab open on your phone.

Mr. Min Yoongi and Ms. Choi Mina are engaged. The current CEO to Min Corporation and the vice-president of C-TEC are both successful in their own right. The wedding will take place next summer. The representatives for both companies wish them both every happiness and success.

The short statement was followed by a picture of them attending a gala and then two official pictures of them following their engagement party. Yoongi held her hand and was looking at her smiling. You had to admit, they looked good together. Mina was elegant and poised. Brought up in a world familiar to Yoongi, a world that mirrored his own. When she smiled, she did so with a quiet confidence.

The sunlight flooded through Yoongi’s living room, almost touching your skin. The space was vast but the decoration was sparse, almost clinical. It hardly looked like it was lived in. You were perched on Yoongi’s kitchen stool because he asked you to come over last night. You sighed at the memory. Having been in the in the area anyway, you were forced to come to a weekly team social. Throughout the evening, the news of Yoongi's engagement traveled within the circles. Soon, you were enveloped in various conversations concerning Choi Mina and Min Yoongi.

Not too far away you saw a flash of grey. Jungkook was smirking at a paralegal, who giggled in a shy manner as he sipped the rest of his drink down. You remembered that you were staring, but you couldn’t help it. His hair was parted from the side and framed his face nicely. He stood tall amongst the crowd of paralegals and associates that he was familiar with, but he stood out. Then, he stared back, his brown eyes lingering just a little longer than normal. He raised his drink in your direction. You did the same, awkwardly lifting your glass and bowing your head. As you turned to set it down, you felt a light touch at the crook of your elbow.

“Alone again?” Jungkook asked, refilling his drink.

You looked at him, not really sure what to say. He arched an eyebrow as he waited for you to explain yourself.

“I’m not, I just needed to fill up my drink,” You mumbled in defeat.

“I’ve been here for a good twenty minutes and all you’ve done is stand here, looking like you don’t want to be around any of your colleagues,” He observed, smiling slightly. Heat rose to your face. You were good at your job but bad at every thing else, including the (more important) social side of things.

“I blame my face,” You replied bitterly. The alcohol was really getting to you, normally you would have just apologised. Jungkook laughed, like really laughed. You weren’t sure if that made you feel good or stupid. Dismissing those thoughts, you let your shoulders relax. Jungkook didn’t seem as intimidating as he was in the office. He was still standing next to you, taking advantage of the vantage point that you found for yourself.

“I don’t blame you actually, it can be tiring - pleasing these people,” He continued, following your gaze to one of the senior partners who’s hand was inching lower and lower down an associate’s back. You made a face.

“Want another drink?” He sighed. You saw that Jungkook clenched his jaw, perhaps from disgust. Just as you were on the brink of saying yes, Yoongi’s name flashed on your phone. For the first time that evening, you smiled. Jungkook’s curious eyes followed your attention as you hastily swiped to answer it. Signalling to excuse yourself, he nodded and separated from you, but not before you caught him watch you leave.

“Where are you?” Yoongi’s deep voice filled your ears. You leaned the wall, crossing one of your feet over the other. Outside of the venue, the air was colder and the floor of the carpet was a dark burgundy, it contrasted with the nude heels that you wore.

“At some bar, well, I’m outside actually,” You rambled, trying to balance on one foot, but failing miserably.

“Can you come over?” He asked, sounding playful.

“Sure. Give me thirty minutes.”

When you arrived Yoongi was surprised to find you more than slightly tipsy. He knew that you were at your limit when he opened the door and you immediately threw your arms around him. It was unlike you to be openly affectionate, especially at the front entrance of his apartment. Still, he caught you in his embrace, rubbing the back of your head as you leaned into him, your hands sliding up over his waist.

“Are you drunk?” He chuckled, half dragging you into his apartment.

“Maybe,” You sang, disentangling yourself from him so you could loop your arm around his waist to steady yourself. Yoongi held you against him tightly, taking your weight as you made your way to his bedroom. When you sat on top of his bed, he kneeled in front of you to remove your heels. He watched as you smiled, clearly drunk as you leaned back, propping yourself up on your hands.

“Was it that tough out there?” Yoongi smiled fondly, helping you out of your skirt and blouse. He noticed that you were a matching black lace set, the fabric clung to your skin in the most irresistible way. You nodded helplessly, collapsing back onto the bed, sighing at the cool touch of the sheets on your skin.Yoongi sighed and cursed at how inebriated you were. He saw that you were waiting for him to touch you. He shook his head and abandoned such plans. Instead, he insisted that you showered and head to bed. Fortunately, you didn’t push it and followed his every instruction. When you settled into bed, dressed in his own clothes, he wandered back to his office to finish the work that he had initially planned to complete in the morning.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Yoongi’s wandering hands, one tugging at the hem of your (his) oversized shirt and the other grasping your thigh. Your breath hitched.

“Yoongi,” You sighed, noting how his lips were peppering soft kisses along your neck.

“Hmmm?” He hummed, his hands deftly cupping your breasts, his fingers tugging your nipples, forcing a soft moan from you.

“Aren’t you going to finish breakfast?” You mumbled, eyes fluttering close as you felt one of his hands sweep along your waist, squeezing your flesh in earnest. The other continued to pinch your nipple, causing you to arch your back.

“I am,” he replied, resolute. You scoff, turning to him just as his tongue licked along your neck, all the way to your earlobe. Leaning further into him, you let out a shaky breath, teeth biting your lower lip as you tried to stop a moan from escaping.

“Can’t we take this to the bedroom?” You complained, remembering how you’d find random scrapes and bruises on your body from fucking on hard surfaces all the time.

“Sure,” he replied. But he wasn’t listening, grasping your hips, prompting your legs to fall open. You roll your eyes, knowing that all he wanted a quickie before work. His hands lifted your shirt to reveal your underwear and a noticeable patch that was forming. Heat rose to your face as he smirked. It wasn’t that hard to tell that you were beginning to soak the fabric. Yoongi kissed you on the cheek, letting your shirt fall. Happy that he listened to you, you hop off the breakfast stool and intertwined your fingers with his, leading the way to the bedroom.

So much for a quickie. It didn’t matter for you as much since you had half the day off, but Yoongi was meant to be in the office early today. When you heard him call his personal assistant to clear his morning schedule, you had to clamp your hand over your mouth because you were trying hard not to laugh. After that was sorted, he practically flung his phone to the other side of the room, diving into you in earnest.

“Yoongi, fuck, fuck!” You yelped, your hand braced yourself against the headboard as his hips repeatedly slammed onto yours. With the force of his thrusts, you were being jostled further up the bed. His lips desperately sought yours, his tongue laving against your own, soaking up your moans. The sheets were soiled by your earlier trysts, everything was hot and your skin was flushed against each other. A mixture of both of your cum coated your inner thighs, his lower stomach. It was messy and carnal. Trying to wrench your lips away from him, you were thrashing beneath him, hips twisting from the sensitivity. But his hand firmly grasped your chin before you pressed your face against the pillow to muffle how loud you were being.

“Look at me,” He commanded, thrusting into you more roughly, causing your body to jolt as the hard planes of his body grazed your clit. You moaned as his hand found its way down, all the way to your swollen bud. When the pad of his thumb pressed slightly, you cried out, drawing your body up, hands propping you up momentarily despite your arms shaking. You have never cum so many times before, and your muscles were aching from the activity. As your brows furrowed, you silently pleaded to him that you couldn’t climax anymore.

“One more, I know you can,” He reassures you, cupping your cheek with his free hand while the other busied itself against your swollen clit. You shivered involuntarily, eyes fluttering close as you focused on your orgasm. He let you recline back on the sheets, damp from all the activity. Then, Yoongi’s hands circled around your ankles, halting his thrusts, giving you a moment to collect yourself. As he slipped out of you, you moaned at the absence of his cock. Seeing that he had other plans, he was guiding you further down the bed, your bottom half almost hanging off of the edge. His gaze was so intense that you squirmed, fully aware of how much your pussy leaking. “Y-yoongi,” you moaned, as he rested his cock against your slick folds, your hips rolled against it. He gritted his teeth as he felt your core throb against his shaft.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” He murmured, his deep voice sending a shiver up your spine. Taking matters into your control, you grasped the backs of your knees, opening yourself up more for him. Your folds parted wetly and he watched as you became more pliant underneath him, his cock twitching slightly. A slight groan escaped his lips as he said your name.

“Yoongi, please,” You whined, feeling the heat rising up all the way to the extremities of your body. He smirked, no doubt relishing in his effect on you. He angled his hips so he could sheath himself deeply. When at last he pushed the head of his cock past your slick folds, you both moaned, meeting each other halfway. You sigh against his lips, your hands travelling from the back of your knees to his chest, his neck, then to the ends of his hair. With your bodies vibrating from how hard you were going, your skin was sticky against his. You pulled against the hair that grew to cover the nape of his neck, he groaned your name against your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours.

“Faster,” you instructed him in between breaths, as his slow movements kept your orgasm at bay. Then his hands found themselves on your hips, gripping so tightly that you’re afraid they’ll leave marks. You held your breath as he pulled away, eyes trained on how his cock lifted itself out of you, almost all the way, then, with a slam of his hips, it disappeared with a wet squelch. Gasping, your hands grasped the sheets beneath you, body jolting as your swollen clit was met with his forceful thrusts.

“Yoongi, oh fuck, so fucking good,” You moaned thoughtlessly, head thrown back till you saw the headboard. You felt him press his chest onto you, his thrusts becoming more and more sloppy as he chased utopia. It was becoming difficult to be more and more coherent, so your cries turned into moans, then back into cries again as he manoeuvred your hips to meet his. Your legs were lifting higher and higher, till he abruptly guided them to hook over his shoulders, bending you in half. With your breasts pressed against your knees, he carried on his punishing pace, unrelenting as his grunts came more often. You felt your orgasm nearing as you held your breath in anticipation.

“Cum for me,” He commanded, leaning back to part your legs so he could reunite with your lips. His hand snaked itself between you to thumb your clit and your hands wrenched itself from the sheets, lifting it off of the bed to claw at his back. You gasped as your orgasm tore through your body, your nails grazing his pale skin. Yoongi pressed himself against you, rolling his hips as you clenched around him unforgivably. He coasted you through your orgasm, until he came, spilling inside the condom with abandon. As you clenched around him, he groaned against your mouth, kissing you sloppily.

“Fuck, a-ah, fuck,” He groaned, his hips stuttering as he thrusted into you once more. Still so sensitive, your body jolted at the slightest of movements. When he pulled away, he held the condom and watched as his cock was thoroughly coated with your viscous juices, a single strand following him till it snapped at your inner thigh. You both moaned as your pussy pulsed intermittently, leaking so much that it found its way onto the dark sheets. The only sounds were your shallow breathing, as you gingerly set your legs down, feet dangling over the edge of the bed. Yoongi leaned forward and kissed your temple before rolling over to lay by your side.

Sitting down for long periods of time wasn’t ideal when you returned to work in the afternoon. This time, you let Yoongi’s chauffeur drive you to a nearby street so that you didn’t have to face the harsh rattling of the subway. There was no coffee by your desk this time, but a bottle of water. Grateful, you drank it as you logged onto your monitor. Then you remembered that you had a group mentoring session with none other than Jungkook. So, you found yourself huddled with two other trainees as he explained why brushing up on commercial awareness came in handy in corporate deals. He was dressed in a black suit today, oddly similar to what Yoongi would pick out for himself. He looked at you curiously as you shifted on your seat, somewhat uncomfortable with the hard surface.

“Any questions?”

You shake your head and looked at your seat mates. None of them seemed to ask so Jungkook nodded, clicking the next slide. Time flew by like that until the session was over. You turned to leave.

“Did you make it home okay?” Jungkook asked, his eyes on the tablet as he exported some documents from a laptop.

“Yes I did, thank you,” You replied. You assumed that it was to do with the weekly social and how you stumbled out.

“Good.”

You stood there awkwardly, waiting for enough time to pass so you could bow and head out. The entirety of your lower half was sore and you needed something plush to sit on. When enough silence had passed you nodded, gripping the door handle to exit.

“Sorry I didn’t get you a coffee this time.”

You only realised what that meant when you were back at your desk, as you drank from the bottle that Jeon Jungkook got you.

Black against white. That’s the first thing you see as they twirled around the dance floor as the orchestra continued the tune of the waltz. Yoongi was dressed in a suit, perfectly tailored. You recalled picking out that tie for him days ago, when he brought up the prospect of the annual gala. She was wearing a white gown, casting an elegant silhouette as she floated with him on the dance floor. A tug on your sleeve, your colleague demanded your attention.

“Isn’t that Mr. Min with his fiancé?” Jung Woo asked, taking a long sip of his champagne. You nod, your own hand gripping the stem of the champagne flute.

“They look so beautiful together,” Ji Woo chirped, picking at her food.

It was the charity gala that Yoongi’s company hosted each year. You were invited as part of the quota that the guest list needed to fulfil, which inevitably led to you being forced to watch him dance with Mina. You kept a neutral face, sipping on your drink as you waited for the minutes to pass until it was acceptable to leave.

“Yeah they do,” You muttered, deciding to get up to replenish your drink. The song ended and the partners dispersed, laughter following their actions. At the drinks table, you eyed the various selections of alcohol, wanting to swipe them all for yourself. A hand rested briefly on your waist, causing you to jolt.

“Hope you’re not getting too carried away,” Jungkook’s voice was clear right by your ear.

“Not tonight,” You muttered, not caring that he was touching you like he did the other paralegals. Yoongi was parading around with Mina now, wide smiles evident on their faces as they glided purposefully around the venue. You tore your gaze away from them and picked up another champagne flute.

“Dance with me,” He murmured, catching up with you and swiftly taking your drink, setting it down a nearby table. You scowled.

“No thank you,” You replied. Perhaps it was because you were away from the firm’s premises, away from the prying eyes of senior partners that constantly evaluated your work, but you were acting more forward. Jungkook didn’t seem to mind, still hot on your tail. Jungkook came into your view while Jung Woo leaned from his chair, watching you both as you tried to skirt your way around him.

“Let’s leave together then,” He insisted.

Where was this coming from?

The idea hung in the air. In the background, the music has changed, another waltz. Yoongi caught your gaze briefly as he broke away from conversation, Mina had an arm looped through his. Then you broke away first, your eyes land on Jungkook who looked at you expectantly, a half smile causing the mole on his bottom lip to become more prominent. Suddenly, leaving together with him didn’t seem like a bad idea.

Your hand moved first, grabbing Jungkook’s discreetly as you led the way. Not much effort was needed as he followed suit, shifting your hold so that his fingers threaded through yours. One last glance at Yoongi, his gaze was trained on you. But you knew that he saw Jungkook too. You thought that his jaw clenched, but that might be the alcohol talking. Once you were through the doors of the venue, you were more insistent, tugging at Jungkook to the elevator.

The car park was filled to the brim. Jungkook led the way this time. You stopped in front of a Mercedes. Raising your eyebrows, you watched as he unlocked it, its bright lights flashing against the ugly green walls.

“Mine or yours?” He asked casually, still gripping your hand.

“Yours.”

“Congratulations! So when is the wedding?”

Yoongi smiled, remembering his place as he watched you disappear through the double doors. Mina’s tight grip on his arm served as a reminder that he had a role to play. It’s still hours before the gala would come to an end and it wasn’t like he could leave straight away, he was meant to stay until the investors were satisfied.

“Sometime in the summer,” He replied, nodding slightly as Mina disentangled herself from him. She made her way to an adjoining table, probably to entertain the other group of investors who could benefit her company. It left Yoongi tackling more questions about the wedding. But his mind was elsewhere. Specifically on you, how you left the gala early with someone else. On nights like these, it always ended up with you underneath him, your wrists held above your head by him and with your legs spread. He clenched his jaw at the sudden turn of events. Regaining his focus, he sipped the remnants of his drink and made his way around the venue.

The drive back went smoothly despite the projection of traffic coming through the radio. You leaned your head on the cool surface of the window, noting how Jungkook was an adept driver. When the car suddenly entered a secluded neighbourhood, it began to climb, gliding past gated houses. You should have known that the car was just the tip of the iceberg. It drew to a halt in front of an ivy covered wall with a simple gate, wide enough to let his car through. Jungkook gave you a small smile as he left you for a moment to open it. His physique was illuminated by the headlights, and the suit was, to say the least, adequately tailored. You saw him look at his phone and type something. He pocketed it again and made his way back to the driver’s seat.

Once the car entered the front drive your lips parted slightly. You managed to raise your head to take a good look. Jungkook chuckled next to you, turning off the car. You knew that Jungkook was well-off, but you didn’t know that he was this well off. As you stepped out, you noted how the front garden was well kept, the grass only barely skimming your heels. Quick to accompany you, he took your hand to steady yourself. He led you to the front, where a simple black door was. Entering the passcode, you noticed it was the same one used in the firm. You held back a laugh.

“What?” He asked, a blush creeping up to his cheeks. You shrugged, a smile still stuck to your face. Once inside, it was dark and you weren’t sure if there were any more levels that you had to climb over. But you feel his arm circle your waist, pulling you close. Your breath hitched at the sudden contact. When you didn’t push him away, he firmly turned you, pushing you against the wall so your back leant against it. You couldn’t figure out why you didn’t resist. Once you found out that he was responsible for the numerous coffee’s on your desk, you began to notice that he was always around you at work. Mostly because of how content you were with your arrangement with Yoongi, you never thought of bringing yourself to entertain anyone else. But it snuck up on you, the fact that if circumstances were different, you would. And yet here you were, in changed circumstances.

“If you say stop, I will,” He murmurs, bringing you out of your thoughts. In the dark, you feel him as his lips ghosted over yours. With your heart hammering in your chest, you suddenly seemed sober. Still, you said nothing, instead meeting him halfway. The way he halted suggested that he never expected you to reciprocate, but when your hands sought him out, it gave him permission to shift his leg in between yours, hiking up your dress. The moment the hard muscle of his thigh pressed against your crotch, you moaned in his mouth, your tongue gliding against his. Grinding your hips, your fingers swept his chest, unbuttoning his shirt clumsily. Jungkook stopped you, his hands leaving your hips to circle them around your wrists. He pulled away, much to your dismay.

Leading you through the dark was tricky, he flipped on a couple of switches and suddenly light flooded the area. From what you could gather, the place was open plan and spacious. Flashes of black, white, and dark wood, it relatively clean but looked like it was lived in. Your heels were loud against the floor and your dress wrinkled at the bottom, but that was the least of your worries. Reaching the bedroom, Jungkook revealed a large bed with dark grey sheets. His walking slowed, turning to you, eyes still asking if you were still okay. You pushed him to sit down as your answer, smirking at how there was a noticeable tent in his dress trousers. His eyes swept your figure as he waited for your next move.

The dress had a low back, making it easy enough to pull at the zipper, so you were able to slip it off your shoulders in one, swift movement. Jungkook groaned as more of your skin came into view. Underneath the simple garb hid an intricate set of lingerie, a black bra with lace detailing and matching underwear. It was meant to be for Yoongi. Oh well. Jungkook could see a wet patch where your pussy was practically dripping. His hands stayed fisted at his sides, waiting. When you attempted to step out of your heels, his hand shot forward to stop you. A knowing smirk erupted from your lips, So he wants them on. It was something that Yoongi would request, and that made you acquiesce.

Closing the distance between you, your knees settled on the soft surface of the bed, your throbbing core hovering just above his clothed crotch. Jungkook seemed to hold his breath as your fingers threaded themselves in his dark hair. His hands weren’t touching you at all. Sinking slowly, you relish in the hiss that escaped his lips as he looked down, as if he couldn’t believe anything that was happening before him.

“Jungkook,” You murmured, leaning forward to deliver it by his ear. He flinched, his entire body stiffening. Growing impatient, you took his hands and planted them on your covered breasts, urging him to do something, anything. Wide eyes met yours as his breath notably picked up, hips unconsciously pressing upwards to relieve some pressure.

“I won’t be able to hold back,” He warned, a strain evident in his voice. Somehow that sent a shiver up your spine.

“Then don’t.”

Suddenly, Jungkook grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over, you yelped at the abruptness. Now on your back, you had no choice but to watch as he leaned forward to capture your lips. Gentle at first, his tongue skimmed your bottom lip and you arched into him, your legs spreading wider. When you tried to hook your ankles together to pull him closer, his hands wound back and circled around them, stopping you. A small whine escaped your lips as he ground his hips against yours, the hardness of his cock causing you to writhe beneath him. You gasped in his mouth as his hand ghosted over your stomach, down until they slipped inside your underwear, coating his own fingers with your wetness. It wasn't enough.

Pushing him away, you took it upon yourself to remove your underwear, you lifted your hips as the fabric barrier left your soaked cunt. Jungkook leant back, eyes zeroing in on your soaked folds. Heat floods your face. You feel him press your thighs against your chest, his hands skimming everywhere but your achingly wet core. Exposed beneath him, you noticed that he was still fully clothed, black on white. Well, technically you still had your heels and bra on. Realising that he was too busy admiring the way your pussy clenched around nothing, you sat up slightly to unhook your bra but you kept your arm over it as the sides fell away. Jungkook bit his lip, the tent in his trousers becoming more prominent.

You let the bra fall away, finally exposing your breasts, your nipples instantly hardening. Jungkook’s jaw clenched. Then, the sudden weight of him on top of you caught your breath. Jungkook kissed you, pressing his lips against yours, catching your gasp as he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip making you whimper. A hand slotted itself on the back of your knee as he ground his clothed crotch against your sopping cunt. The other hand settled on the side of your head, crumpling the sheets. It was overwhelming. Yoongi didn’t kiss like him. Of course he doesn’t. Jungkook was different and you were still deciding if that was a good thing.

He pulled away from you, leaving your lips swollen. Through the fringe of his dark hair, you met his gaze, dark brown eyes changing under the soft lights of his bedroom. Jungkook pressed his thumb against your clit, slow and firm at first but when he felt that gush of wetness, he entered you with a finger, causing your hips to buck upwards. He watched your face as the pleasure surged along your body, your teeth cutting your lower lip, holding back your moans.

“I want to hear you,” He demanded, retreating his thumb from you. Desperate for your release, you try to shift your hips downwards but he pressed against your thigh, your heel coming into view. Using your other leg that was free, you hooked it over his waist. Jungkook groaned as you continued to grind your pussy over his clothed, hard cock. You allowed yourself to let go, moaning as your hands cupped your breasts, rolling your nipples in your fingers. If he was going to tease you to no end, might as well get yourself off first. Jungkook watched you, his breathing noticeably shallow as you worked to chase your high. Each time your clit grazed him, small jolts travelled along your body, you were practically whining for more. Still, he didn’t move, instead pressing himself more, gritting his teeth.

“A-ah, fuck, stay there,” You moaned, throwing your head back as your pussy began to throb. But Jungkook had other plans. At once, his hand left your body, so did his weight. You feel a gust of air as he dropped to his knees, dragging you to the edge of the bed by hooking his arms around your thighs. Unable to hold back a squeal, you watched as his mouth connected with your pussy, lapping at your juices. Once his tongue circled your clit, you cried out as you fell back on the bed and rolled your hips instinctively. Tangling your fingers through his hair was the easiest thing in the world. You gripped his hair, messing it up, relishing in his strangled groan that vibrated along your core as he said your name. Despite your hips twisting underneath, he kept them spread, his fingers finding your folds and stretching them open just as his tongue ran along them.

“Oh fuck! J-jungkook!” You cried, using your hands to press his head onto you more. As he licked a fat stripe along your cunt, culminating in kitten licks at your clit. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as your orgasm crashed over you. A strangled cry left you, mixing with whines of his name as he continued to coast you over your orgasm until you were pushing him away, rather pathetically since your arms were weak. With your eyes fluttering shut, you feel your legs descending, your heels landing on the floor. Jungkook’s hands slid up and down your thighs, his thumbs rubbing small circles on your hips. You bring yourself to look up and saw him licking his lips, his chin glistening with your juices. You try to shut your legs but he settled firmly between them, asserting himself over you.

Slowly, he began to unbutton his shirt, and soon his chest came into view. When the material dropped to the floor you gasped as a nearly full sleeve of tattoos on his right arm appeared. It was difficult to discern them at first but when he drew closer, you could make out various words criss crossed, an eye, and other symbols. Your pussy clenched at the thought of all of that hidden underneath his expensively tailored suit. You catch his smirk as he undid his trousers, finally stepping out of them, clad in only black briefs. Another small gasp left you as you got a glimpse of his cock, impossibly hard and straining to get out of the fabric constraints. Swiftly, he freed himself from his briefs and his hands found your sides, rubbing up until his thumbs grazed your nipples, ghosting over the hardened buds, making you moan. His kisses made you light headed as he continued to grind his hips on you, both of you moaning at how you could feel everything.

Before you got carried away, you shifted to search for your clutch. He got there first, snapping it open and swiftly finding the condom. It took no time for him to rip the foil packet and began to roll it on after pumping himself a couple of times. Then he ran the head of his cock along your folds, looking down as you gushed with your wetness, dripping down onto his sheets.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he hissed, pushing slowly. As he leant over you to plant a chaste kiss, you tasted yourself on his lips. Biting back a gasp, you lifted your legs, clumsily hooking them over his hips, the bottom of your heels grazing him. He bit your bottom lip in retaliation. But before you could say anything he began to move. And fuck did that send you over the edge.

Still sensitive from his tongue, in fact, from the entire situation, you wrenched your lips from his to tuck your head under his chin. This left you with a view of his cock repeatedly entering you, the wet squelch of your pussy and the sounds of skin slapping skin reverberating around the room. Your moans were loud, just how he wanted them. Then you feel his hand grab a fistful of your hair, bringing you into his line of view. You gasp at the abruptness, pain radiating throughout your scalp. Jungkook looked at you, his lips parting as his breathing became shallow. He never slowed his pace, fucking you relentlessly, not caring if your fingers clawed his back, leaving a trail of raw marks in its wake. Your hands found his hair again, doing the same as he did to you, he groaned in protest, briefly exposing his neck. You leaned forward to lick along it, kissing his jaw. That made him fuck you harder, the force of his thrusts toeing the line of pleasure into pain. You were practically dripping on the sheets, your slick coating your inner thighs, spilling over his cock.

“Cum for me, fuck, I fucking knew it would be this good,” he growled, his hand leaving your hair only to rest itself on the side of your head. A flash of black ink against his flushed skin, you arched your back whilst digging your heels in, not caring when he groaned as the pointed ends dug into his skin. With your head pressed into his pillows, you came, your fingers tugging on Jungkook’s hair even more. His hands moved to your hips now, breaking free from your embrace as he grabbed your hips only to smack then harder against his. You followed his gaze to the space between your bodies, moaning as he thrusted into you with abandon. Jungkook gasped as you clenched around him, your body surrendering to the pleasure.

“Jungkook! Ah fuck!” You whined, shuddering as he continued fucking you harder and harder. Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his dark eyes alight. With your breath caught in your chest, you felt a wave as you came again, your hips twisting away from his, moaning so loudly that you didn’t care anymore. Jungkook’s hips stuttered, spilling into the condom, stretching your walls even further as the latex swelled. He groaned your name, running his hand through his hair, bewildered by the sight before him. You let your legs come down, muscles singing in protest as you relaxed onto the bed. Jungkook reached between you, gripping the condom as he slipped out of you. He rolled to your side, discarding it in a nearby bin after tying it. Reality came crashing down as you regained your breaths. Both of you stared at the ceiling, your heartbeat loud in your ears.

“So…” He began, piercing the silence.

“Shut up.”

He did. Instead, he reached next to you to brush the strands of hair that stuck to your face. With your eyes still on the ceiling, you let your heels leave your sore feet so you could feel the floor beneath, the cool surface soothing them.

You should see other people.

Yoongi’s words echoed in your head again, you remembered how easy it was for him to say it. You assumed that he would also be okay with this but you were unsure. Sitting up, you hiss as you tried putting weight on your feet, all the blood rushing back. Jungkook’s hand caught your forearm, tugging you back against his sweaty chest.

"Oof," you gasped.

With your face mushed against him, you were enveloped in his embrace. For a moment, you let him hold you, hearing his heartbeat loudly. Then, you lightly pounded your fist against him, he loosened his embrace slightly. Propping yourself up on your hands, you shot him a look. He didn’t look at you, instead his gaze was concentrated on the ceiling, a smile creeping up on his lips. What was so amusing?

“What’s so funny?” You asked, genuinely curious. But he just shook his head. Getting up before you, he made his way to a chest of drawers where he found a white over-sized shirt and some shorts. You received it soundlessly as you put your bra back on, tugging the shirt over your arms and head. It smelled like fresh laundry and something else that you couldn’t quite place. Jungkook decided to only wear some sweatpants. Stark against the surface of his skin, the tattoos adorned his right arm stopped just a bit before his wrist, you couldn’t help but stare.

Catching your gaze, he smirked. Settling back down the bed, he handed you your underwear. Wincing, you sighed as you inspected it. Your arousal had dried but it was gonna be uncomfortable nonetheless. Jungkook continued to sweep the room, picking up the scattered clothes and laying them over a chair. When he entered the adjoining bathroom you reclined back on the bed, still processing what happened.

“You can stay over if you want, but if you want to go home I can drive you back,” Jungkook called from the bathroom. You slipped on your underwear reluctantly and then the black shorts.

“Drive me home.”

previously. / next.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #min yoongi x reader #bts fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #yoongi x you #bts yoongi #bts fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #yoongi fic #jungkook fic #yoonkook x reader

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booksnmore · 5 years ago

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Chapter One

Series Summary || In the cutthroat world of mergers and acquisitions, Feyre Archeron has to try and keep her head when caught between duty and a man that might have stolen her heart. (Modern Day ACOTAR AU)

Chapter Summary || After career-altering news at work, Feyre visits her favorite bar and finds someone to distract her for the night.

Word Count || 5348

A/N || Mature themes that are not appropriate for readers under the age of 18. Includes graphic depictions of sex. Reader beware. 18+

Tagged Crew: @highqueenofelfhame

Feyre tossed her keys in the bowl to the left of the front door and kicked off her shoes, one too-tall heel after the other, grinning slightly at the satisfying ‘thunk’ they made as they collided with the wall. She bent over and rubbed at the red lines pressed into her feet from the uncomfortable footwear all day, and cursed, not for the first time, the strict dress code enforced at her job.

“Women should wear appropriate skirts and shoes,” she muttered as she padded down the hallway into the kitchen, making it clear what she thought of their ‘appropriate’ standards. The apartment was quiet, her cat napping on the couch not bothering to wake up and greet her.

“Hello to you too, Jiji,” she said, ruffling the black cat’s fur as she walked past and ignoring his indignant ‘mrr?” of protest. She pulled the pins out of her hair as she walked past the coffee pot and pulled out a bag of tea, groaning as her long, strawberry-blonde hair tumbled free of its tight constraints.

Flicking on the T.V. while her kettle came to a boil, she absently thumbed through the channels, ignoring the doom and gloom the news was preaching, and settled on an old re-run of Golden Girls. Ah, she could always rely on Dorothy to tell it how it was. The kettle kicked off, and she poured the water over her teabag, inhaling the bite of the black tea as it steeped.

Her phone pinged from the couch where she’d set it, so with tea in one hand and remote in the other, she walked over to see what it was. If Lucien thought he could text her after hours and ask her to do more work off the clock, she was tempted to tell him where he could shove his brief. It was hard to believe that her drunken 3am application to the agrochemical company as a paralegal had panned out at all. After all, she’d been a recent grad with only her stellar 4.0 GPA and a few semesters of volunteer work at a local tax office for low income residents to commend her to the position. The HR lady had claimed that she was just the fresh perspective the company needed, and being naive enough to trust this, Feyre’d jumped at the chance to move to California. After all, she knew she was just one face among thousands, looking for a job. The salary they paid was enough for her to just manage to afford an apartment all to herself, if she ignored that some walk-in closets were bigger than the whole place.

She swiped open the message on her phone and, sure enough, it was a message from Lucien, the corporate lawyer she worked under. It wasn’t that he was a bad guy, not entirely. He was easy-going and gave Feyre opportunities to learn first-hand, and never pushed his workload onto her like she knew some of the other lawyers for the company did with their paralegals. He was interesting to look at; not necessarily conventionally attractive, not with the glass eye and scar down his cheek, or the perpetual frown he seemed to wear around their boss Tamlin, but something about him drew the eye in a way a model’s perfect proportions couldn’t. They had an easy-going enough relationship, and though they were friendly with each other he was always careful to keep things professional, and she never felt weird or creeped out around him. Not the way she felt around Tamlin.

The son of the CEO, and a chairman in his own right, Tamlin seemed to have a special affection for Feyre, and tended to offer her and Lucien workloads that were more interesting, or easier, and laved attention on her at work to the annoyance of her coworkers. She didn’t return the feelings, but how would she ever say that to her boss? So she smiled, and gritted her teeth, and bore the condescending little comments about how cute she was that day, how that skirt made her look luscious, how that blouse really did need something under it, as he could see her bra quite clearly, though it didn’t bother him.

No, those inappropriate comments were just made for the betterment of the company. If she wore that skirt that clung to her hips when they met with the judge, he was sure the court would rule in their favor. If she just smiled more, the judge would be a little more lenient. She tried to ignore the way she could feel his eyes crawling over her, or the way his brow would pucker when she wore a top buttoned all the way up. The only good thing about their relationship was that they rarely met in person. Lucien was aware of it, and did his best to help, in his own way. He and Tamlin apparently went way back to Yale together, but despite that he tried to field any in-person meetings with Tamlin that he could, and seemed to always have something for Feyre to be doing out of the office when Tamlin would drop by. She was silently grateful, not wanting to say anything and risk disturbing the fragile peace they’d found.

She read the brief message, eyes narrowing. Come into the office now. We have a problem. Though he was only a few years older than her, he texted like an old man, she thought with a small grin, then groaned loudly at the thought of shoving her feet back into her shoes after just freeing them. Since Tamlin required them to turn read receipts on for the company chat, he knew she’d seen his message and would expect her soon. Glancing ruefully at her tea, she stood up and slipped on her favorite pair of flats. She would just ignore the snide comments about how her shoes just weren’t professional enough. If he wanted her in overtime, she’d wear what she damn well pleased.

“Guess I’ll see you later, Jiji,” she said, kissing the cat’s head despite his grumpy yawn. “Hold down the fort for me, won’t you?” The traffic was terrible - she’d only just gotten home in a cab after a 45 minute commute spent almost entirely sitting still. Paying for an extra cab wasn’t in the budget, and she suspected that Tamlin would want her in sooner than that anyway, so she pulled on a jacket and grabbed her purse. It was only ten blocks or so; she’d walk.

The streets were overrun with people, but at least with them she could slip past, using her smaller frame to get through where others couldn’t. She hated the way people would look down on her, using her height as a way to intimidate her, but decided in that instance that it was for the best. Autumn was in full swing, and the brisk nip of the breeze was turning to a more biting cold. Tugging her jacket more tightly against her, she almost regretted her decision to walk. However, when the looming office building stood just ahead and she looked down at her watch, she knew she’d made the right choice. Closer to 15 minutes than 45, and she did feel less sleepy after the walk.

Pushing the doors open, she waved at Jackson sitting behind the security desk, and the gray-headed man gave her a sympathetic look back. “He’s in a fine mood tonight, Ms. Archeron,” he warned, knocking his head towards the upstairs offices. “Best to just nod and get back to your beau at home.”

No matter what Feyre told Jackson, he was convinced she must have a boyfriend, and had dreamed up the fantasy that she was engaged and totally in love, and had a dog and two cats. All she had to say was that the old man had too much time on his hands, and a far too active imagination.

“Thanks for the heads up, Jackson,” she said, hitting the button for the elevator doors and taking that moment to compose herself. She knew her cheeks were flushed from the walk and the wind, so she instead used the reflection of the elevator doors to try and fix her windblown hair into something resembling a bun. She only had her emergency hair tie and none of the bobby pins required to keep the stray curls around her face from springing loose, so she did what she could before the doors dinged, then pressed the button that would deliver her to whatever Tamlin had needed her for so desperately that night.

When she stepped off the elevators, she knew something was very wrong. It wasn’t just Tamlin and Lucien that were gathered around the large table in their conference room. Standing beside them was Aamon Verne, Tamlin’s father and CEO of Viridis Agrochemicals, and Nikoli Hybern, the Chief Strategy Officer. The three men together were never a good omen. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she walked up and rapped sharply on the glass door. There, in the chairs towards the back, next to Lucien, sat Nuala and Cerridwen, her two fellow paralegals, who offered her a look that was both encouraging and warning.

“Yes, come in girl,” said the elder Verne with a sweep of his hand. Despite his age, he still looked every bit the powerful man he was in his youth. Aamon Verne was a name that was both respected and feared in the industry, though Feyre had more loathing than respect for the man. He saw those around him only as tools for his use, and she’d heard him and Tamlin speaking about Nuala and Cerridwen while at lunch once in a way that made her skin crawl.

Still, he was her boss and she dipped her head briefly at both him and Nikoli, resolutally ignoring Tamlin as much as possible. All three of the men had deep-set frowns, and only paused in their argument long enough for Tamlin to wave her over and push a stack of papers into her hand that seemed identical to what Nuala and Ceridwen were holding. He waved her away carelessly and she took a seat next to her co-workers, thumbing through the papers even as her ears revealed what was happening.

“Who does this Rhysand think he is?” thundered Aamon, though no one was dumb enough to answer. “Buying out our shareholders, and our company out from under us? I knew this would happen if we went public. It was bound to happen eventually.” Nikoli didn’t look perturbed by his boss’ behavior. Only Tamlin of the three had turned a shade paler, though in his defence his face showed nothing of his emotion.

“We could still reach out to the shareholders,” began Tamlin, but his father quickly cut him off.

“And what? Beg them for our jobs? They aren’t fools. They knew we would throw everything we have at them the moment we found out.” Sneering at his son, Aamon turned to Lucien who stoically met his gaze. “Take your people and figure something out. Find us a way out of this, and I’ll give you double your wages as a Christmas bonus.” The unspoken threat was clear: if you don’t, none of us will have a job.

Feyre’s head was spinning. A hostile takeover? Of their company? Feyre quickly went over the figures in their head. Since they were a publicly held company, they had thousands of shareholders, but not nearly enough that a tender offer wouldn’t work. She thumbed through the brief she’d been handed and, sure enough, Caeles Enterprises had offered to buy out their shareholders with a tender bid high above the price of the stock itself. It seemed the enough shareholders had sold, because at the moment, Caeles held the majority of Viridis’ shares of the stock, making them a majority shareholder. Feyre finally understood why the three heads of the company were so riled up. It really could be the end of their time at the company.

Leaning over to Nuala, Feyre asked, “What do we know about Caeles?” She pulled a pen out of her small leather portfolio and began to jot notes down as Ceridwen answered. “They’re relatively new, founded about ten years ago by Rhysand Neri and his cousin Morrigan. Apparently they mostly focus on renewable food sources, though it seems more broadly the company is focused on genetically modified agriculture. They have their hands in, uh, just a sec.” Ceridwen thumbed through the pile of paper, though Feyre found it before she did.

“Looks like their most recent focus is on soy crops in the Central Valley region. That explains why they're trying to take us over, at least.” Feyre’s gaze shuttered at that, knowing just how brutal Viridis’ policies towards competitors was. She and Lucien had just finished filing a lawsuit against the Growers of the Valley, requiring them to turn over 20% of their profits, as it had been ‘anonymously’ discovered that a large portion of their crops seeds were from Viridis’ own stores. She knew those farmers in the Growers of the Valley association couldn’t afford the 20% tariff, but per her company’s procedures it was a required case to take.

She ignored the growls and curses from the three heads of the company and continued to thumb through the papers, before turning to Lucien. “Whitemail? Do we have enough capital to cover the shares it would take to tip the balance back in our favor?” She watched the gears in his mind turning, but scribbled a few other options on her notepad as well.

“Let’s talk whitemail,” he finally said, standing up and motioning to the three of them to follow him out of the main office. “We’ll just be in the other room so you three can talk freely,” he said with a careless wave, already ushering them out of the room before Aamon could protest.

“Thank the gods we’re free of that,” said Nuala with a huffy laugh, giving Ceridwen a look. “If I had to stay in that testosterone-filled room for another moment, I think I’d have suffocated.” Feyre gave her friend a look of agreement, and even Lucien couldn’t hide his grin.

“What Feyre suggested might work,” he said, sitting down at the table and spreading the company’s bylaws out on the table. “Each of you grab a section, and let’s see what anti-takeover measures we can take. The likelihood that the new guy’ll fire all of us is pretty high, so work as though it were your ass on the line because, let’s face it, it probably is.”

So they hunted, heads down and fingers flying across the keyboard, for hours, until Feyre’s neck was sore and Nuala was yawning for the third time in as many minutes. Glancing down at her watch, she gave a resolute yawn of her own and sat down her pen, tip practically chewed up from that night’s frantic search.

“Lucien, respectfully, we’re all exhausted. Nuala can barely keep her eyes open, and I think I’ve seen Ceridwen misspell the word ‘thorough’ at least four times. With spellcheck on,” she added, cutting off what would have been Ceridwen’s excuse. “I’m going to finish up for the night. It’s 12am, and I doubt the partners are going to let us sleep in tomorrow morning.” Though she might let Tamlin walk all over her, she knew her limits. She could feel a headache just starting in her temple, and her stomach rumbled in complaint at its negligence.

Lucien threw up his hands, the picture of exasperation, but Feyre could see through it to the real exhaustion below the surface on him too. “Fine, you lazy lot. Go home and curl up with your teddy bears for all I care. I’m going to stay and see if I can find a way to keep Aamon from killing and eating me tomorrow morning. Night, ladies.” With little more than a glance up as their chairs scraped against the ground, Lucien continued flipping through pages, jotting notes in his messy handwriting, and biting his lip. If it were any other situation, she might have found him cute, but he was her superior and that was just too complicated for her. Shaking the errant thought from her head, she grabbed her jacket, tucked her portfolio under her arm, and headed out into the now decidedly frigid October air.

The cold instantly snapped her awake as she stepped out onto the street, hands jammed in her coat pockets. Glancing back the way she came, she made a snap decision to instead head east, ducking into a bar just down the road from work she wasn’t at all unfamiliar with. Her first few months working with Tamlin’s condescending and sleazy comments had seen her, Ceridwen, and Nuala at the bar more often than she might’ve liked, but in moments like this as she slipped inside and was greeted with a smile by Ressina from behind the bar, she knew there were worse places she could end up.

“You’re not normally here on the weekdays babe,” said Ressina in the way of a greeting, wincing in sympathy at Feyre’s sour expression. Without prompting, she made up Feyre’s drink of choice - a vodka cranberry - and passed it over before leaning on the bar, expression expectant.

Feyre took a long drink before giving a huffy laugh at Ressina. “You are probably one of the only bartenders in the city that actually wants to hear what her patrons have to moan about, you know that?” The bar was mostly empty, save for a couple that looked like they were only moments away from leaving and finding a room somewhere. Feyre was surprised to find that the idea actually held some appeal to her, as well. Brushing that aside, she glanced down the bar at a lone figure staring into his drink, and decided it was safe enough to tell her friend.

“You know where I work, right? Well, let’s just say none of us might work there any longer. There’s new blood coming in and apparently trying to clean house. I don’t know how much longer I have a job.” She gave a mirthless laugh and finished the rest of her drink in one go, motioning for a second one as Ressina made comforting noises.

“That’s rough kiddo,” said the barkeep as she stirred up another drink for Feyre without prompting, tisking under her breath. “I swear, the way they use you there with no gratitude, this might just be the thing to kick your ass in gear and get you to actually find a place that values you.”

Feyre just shook her head and pulled out her portfolio, now nursing her new drink as she scribbled new strategies to prevent the takeover. Ressina took this for the break in conversation it was and began to clean up behind the bar, preparing for closing while humming to the music under her breath. The woman really was beautiful, and Feyre found herself distracted watching the way her inky hair swayed with her as she went about cleaning up and closing out tabs. Feyre’s fingers itched to draw her, already imagining the lines curving around her figure, the strokes it would take to convey the feather-fine hair. After a few minutes, however, she forced herself to get back to work. That was, ostensibly, why she was at the bar after all. She began to jot down counter strategies, leaving little notes to herself later on to explain what she was talking about, and found herself so absorbed in her work that she didn’t notice the man at the end of the bar studying her until Ressina cleared her through and tossed her head in his direction.

“Uh,” she began, unsure how to spark a conversation with a man that clearly felt no shame at drinking her up like he was parched. “Hi?” Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol and cold, and she knew she’d had just enough to drink to loosen up by the heat radiating off of her ears.

The man took a long sip of his drink before standing up and walking over, never taking his gaze off of Feyre. She felt goosebumps rise on her arms, but tamped down on the feeling and forced herself to keep a neutral enough expression. He was better looking in the light, his raven hair almost purple in the neon of the bar and mouth curved in what she could only imagine to be a smile promising filthy things.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, sitting down so close that their thighs touched. She felt warmth spread down her neck, though she forced herself to meet his gaze steadily, ignoring the quickening of her breath. He, however, didn’t ignore it and watched the way her breasts rose and fell under her blouse, drinking in the sight before looking back up with a smirk.

“Do I even know you?” Feyre asked, brow cocked. “I bet you use that line on all the girls.” She turned away, a deliberate move in that dance as old as time. Parry and riposte, ebb and flow. The heat in her veins made her bolder than normal, but he didn’t seem to mind. “I don’t even know your name, stranger.”

A funny look crossed his face so quickly that Feyre decided she imagined it, before he answered easily, “Daemon. And yours, my beauty?”

Feyre laughed, rolling her eyes at him, though she felt herself more at ease with what was clearly a teasing compliment. “Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think Daemon?” She tucked a curl behind her ear that had fallen out of her haphazard bun, noticing the way his eyes followed her every movement with the laziness of a predator that knows it has its prey cornered.

“What are you doing here, anyway? Beautiful woman like you, alone on a cold night like this? You should be curled up in furs next to some lucky guy somewhere.” His tone was light, but the hungry light in his eyes couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than lust.

“Work,” she replied, expression tightening slightly at the reminder. “Don’t suppose you know anything about that, do you?” She nodded down at his midnight suit, well-fitted and beyond anything she could ever afford, and cocked a brow. The challenge was clear in her gaze. She reached out and took his hand, ignoring the spark at their connection that caused Daemon to raise an eyebrow, and turned it palm-up. “Not a callus to be seen, just as I suspected,” she said, giving a theatrical sigh. “Bet your silver spoon is tucked away in that fancy suit too, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer, instead taking her hand and placing it on his chest where she could feel his heart pounding beneath the silky fabric. His other hand slid into her hair, massaging the back of her head and drawing an unintended moan from her. The tension from that day seemed to loosen and slide away. She’d always loved getting her head massaged, and it was almost as though he’d known this when he began. Her hands bunched the fabric of his lapel, eyes glazed until he drew his hand down to her cheek and began to draw close.

She realized where this was going, chastised herself for being too easy, and then met his lips with her own. It was utter possession. His kiss was firm and commanding, taking and giving in equal measure. She felt his chest rumble when she slipped her tongue past his lips, tanging with his own, and would have kept going if not for a pointed cough from behind the bar.

Pulling away, Feyre felt her face turn scarlet and had to force herself to ignore Daemon’s self-satisfied smirk as he straightened his clothing.

“You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here,” said Ressina with a knowing look, glancing between the rapid rise and fall of Feyre’s chest and the lipstick staining the corner of Daemon’s mouth. “Go on, lovebirds. Don’t make an old woman long for something she can’t have.” She turned her back to them to clean the glasses sitting out, but not before Feyre saw her grin.

Turning back to Daemon, she was at a loss for words. She wasn’t a one-night-stand kinda gal. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but she just...tended to not have time for relationships, and being the pragmatic girl she was, took care of any needs with brisk efficiency and the help of a not-inexpensive vibrator she’d gifted herself as a housewarming present when she moved to Cali. This guy, though… He almost seemed worth the trouble of bringing him home. She looked between him and the door, though her question was apparently written plainly enough on her face for him to make the one to suggest it.

He leaned in, nuzzling her neck and pressing kisses behind her ear. “I’d ask my place or yours, but I’m all the way across the city. You live closer?” His words were a torment of warm breath against one of her most sensitive places, drawing goosebumps up along her neck. Her head swam as though she was drunk, but she hadn’t had enough to go beyond a buzz and knew it must all be him.

“Yeah,” she breathed, tilting her head to the side to give him better access.

“Then let’s go, Feyre darling. Don’t make me wait.”

He didn’t have to ask twice, not with the heat in her stomach dropping lower, lower, until she felt her thighs squeeze together unconsciously. She quickly paid for her drink and ignored the salacious looks her friend was giving her, before grabbing her portfolio and keys, nearly stumbling after Daemon as he stood and took her hand. If the bulge in his pants was any indication, it seemed like he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

The trip home was a blur of scorching hot kisses and freezing wind, the combination almost driving her wild. They stumbled up the steps to her apartment and, with clumsy hands, she unlocked the door. Daemon pressed her back against the door, slamming it closed behind them, and began to ravish kisses up her throat, along her cheek, until he possessed her mouth entirely. Their kisses weren’t sweet, but a clashing of natural phenomena: a tidal wave against a sheer cliff, the inexorable pull of gravity on a falling stone. Their breath mixed as she pulled at his clothing, forgetting in the moment that the silk falling to the ground around them likely cost more than she made in a month.

“More,” she demanded, biting his lip petulantly when he pulled away in order to unbutton her blouse. He flashed a promising grin her way, in that moment being the picture of boyish pleasure and nothing like the foreboding man she’d first seen at the bar. The moment the chilled air hit her breasts, she arched her back and he took the opportunity to fill his hands with her, mercilessly brushing his thumb over her nipples until they rose in stiff peaks.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, against her skin, lowering his head to taste the rosy buds that now stood erect between them. “Divine.” He laved his tongue over her breasts, then down the valley between them until she couldn’t keep herself from pulling him back up to her mouth. Her hands snaking down his chest, undoing the buttons as she went until she could press her hands against his bare skin, teasing her fingers down his side until she reached his belt.

“Gods,” she groaned, clumsily undoing the buckle and shoving her hands into his trousers where she took possession of his cock, hard as steel and nearly as big around as her fingers could reach. She felt a shudder roll through him as she slowly teased him, swiping the bead of liquid from his tip and using it to help her hand glide up and down his length. “You’re so big, I-”

“Bedroom,” he bit out, cutting her off. He seemed to strain against her hand, nipping down her throat and along the tops of her breasts. “Unless you want to have sex against this door.”

The thought appealed to Feyre, but she managed to surface from her heady lust long enough to lead them both to her bedroom. She didn’t bother turning on the light, instead toppling into bed with him. “Condom?” she asked breathlessly, the thought only now crossing her mind. She was on birth control, but something about a one-night-stand seemed to require protection from a different sort of danger.

“My wallet,” he groaned, the sound turning into a growl as she slid her hand around his hips to dip into his back pocket, giving his ass a grope before returning with the foil-covered square. He squeezed his eyes shut as she rolled the condom down the length of him, then his control seemed to snap.

Rolling her beneath him, he poured kisses down her body until he reached the edge of her skirt, which he roughly pushed down until she was bare to him in only her pink flower underwear and tan bra. She hadn’t planned on getting laid when she got dressed that morning, but couldn’t muster enough concentration to worry about what he thought as he yanked the two pieces of fabric hiding her from him. His mouth slide lower, lower, pressing kisses to the delicate skin of her hips and inside of her thighs, before he sat up and pressed a thumb over her nub, rubbing once, twice, as she groaned beneath him.

“Yes, yes,” she breathed, hips bucking as he continued, adding first one, then two fingers inside her as she struggled against the wave rising higher and higher inside of her.

“So tight,” he growled, withdrawing his fingers and, in an act that had her melting, licked off each of his fingers, before lowering his face and feasting. A rumble of pleasure vibrated against her, causing her to alternate pushing against his head and pulling him closer, thighs squeezing against his shoulders.

“I’ve got you,” he promised, seeming to know what she needed but couldn’t say aloud. “Ready…?” He took her cry of pleasure as a yes, then said lowly, “Then come for me, Feyre darling.”

He drew her nub between his lips and sucked, laving his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves as she convulsed beneath him, finding herself soaring up and up until her pleasure broke on a knife’s edge, sending her shattering down back to earth.

Panting, Daemon gave her no time to recover, propping her hips up and lining himself up before driving in with a thrust. The pressure was intense, and this time her cry was tinged with discomfort, though he remained still until she began to slowly rock against him, moaning his name under her breath.

He took this as the permission that it was and began to move, slowly at first, then more quickly, angling himself so that he hit that one spot inside of her that caused her legs to clench so tightly around him that she thought he would complain.

She kept up the quiet litany under her breath of “yes, yes, yes,” as he drove into her, hips pistoning until she felt his control shatter and his pace grew frantic. The heat inside of her roared up again, rising like a furnace, until she felt him thrust deep inside of her and groan, his pleasure sparking her own until they were both tumbling down, down, into each other and the orgasm they shared. She felt her eyes closing when the bed dipped under him as he stood. The sink ran in the bathroom, then he returned, sliding under the covers with her and petting her hair with a lazy, unhurried pace. Her eyelid began to grow heavy, until finally she gave into sleep.

#books #bookish #reading #booklr #studyblr #english lit #ivory tower #IT #acotar #acotar au #acotar fanfic #feyre x rhysand #highqueenofelfhame

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mariscando · 5 years ago

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Receitas de Viagem: Batata rösti e fondue de carne au vin, Suíça

O friozinho batendo na porta aqui em São Paulo, Dia dos Namorados no ar e o destino gastronômico dessa semana foi a Suíça! Não tem nada como uma fondue pra dividir com aquela pessoa especial, né? São muitos os sabores possíveis, incluindo vários queijos e até o chocolate, ms pra mim, a combinação perfeita é a fondue de carne au vin com batata rösti. Garanto que o sabor é um teletransporte imediato para os Alpes Suíços!

A fondue (assim no feminino mesmo!) é um prato de origem suíça, originalmente à base de queijo aquecido sobre uma lamparina (também conhecida como espiriteira ou rechaud), ou outra fonte de calor pouco intenso e do qual as pessoas se servem diretamente. Já a batata rösti (ou batata suíça, como é conhecida em alguns lugares) é uma receita preparada com batata ralada, manteiga e sal.

Origem dos pratos

A palavra fondue tem origem francesa e significa literalmente fundido ou derretido. A fondue mais tradicional é feito com uma mistura de queijos fundidos com vinho, que vai à mesa acompanhada de pedaços de pão, batatas, legumes cozidos ou com a guarnição de sua preferência. Mas como eu sou intolerante à lactose, sempre preferi a fondue de carne no vinho! Os acompanhamentos são mergulhados na fondue com um garfo comprido para ficarem cobertos com o queijo fundido ou, no caso da carne, ser cozida no óleo ou no vinho.

A batata rösti é um prato tradicional da região do Cantão de Berna, na parte “alemã” da Suíça. A palavra rösti, por sua vez, vem do alemão e significa fina e crocante. E não é para menos! Essa deliciosa receita de batata fica crocante por fora e macia por dentro. O recheio fica a seu critério. Pode ser algo mais leve ou até mais gorduroso. Há algumas variações que incluem também cominho, bacon, cebola e queijos, como: o gruyère, o appenzeller e o emmental.

Uma pitadinha de história

Apesar de hoje ser considerado um prato extremamente refinado, e sinônimo de elegância, a fondue foi criada no meio de muito perrengue e fome, por mera necessidade e sem nenhum pingo de glamour. Hoje, quando nos sentamos para degust-lo, pouco sabemos sobre sua história, mas as primeiras receitas escritas para fondue aparecem nos livros de receitas do século XVIII publicados na França e na Bélgica. Todas elas apelam ao Gruyère, um queijo de origem suíça, de modo que os suíços acabaram realmente levando o crédito como os criadores da receita.

Sabe-se que essa tradição de mergulhar o pão no queijo já era conhecida nos Alpes Suíços na Idade Média, quando a população local, que já era uma exímia produtora derivados do leite, derretia o excesso da produção de queijo para conservá-lo durante o inverno numa mistura com bebida alcoólica, como o vinho ou o kirsch. Vários testes eram realizados, para conferir o sabor e a textura da massa de queijo derretido e em algum momento alguém decidiu mergulhar um pedaço de pão na mistura, e assim nasceu a fondue.

Durante a Segunda Guerra Mundial, em meados de 1930, os camponeses que moravam nas regiões montanhosas mais distantes não tinham como buscar mantimentos nas cidades, por conta das batalhas e do inverno rigoroso. O jeito era reaproveitar o queijo que sobrava de sua produção caseira de leite para cozinhar um alimento nutritivo e quente, que desse conta de alimentá-los e espantar um pouco do frio. A receita era preparada deixando os restos de queijo no fogo, até que derretessem, formando um tipo de creme quente, saboroso e nutritivo, que era comido junto com pedaços de pão que eram mergulhados na mistura.

Contudo, a fama mundial da fondue só veio na década de 1950, quando o renomado chef Conrard Egli do restaurante Chalet Suísse, em Nova York, passou a servir o prato em seu cardápio. Além da tradicional fondue de queijo, ele inventou uma versão para ser servida como sobremesa, onde queijo foi substituído por chocolate.

A batata, por sua vez, chegou na Europa no século XVI e logo surgiram receitas de panquecas de batatas em diversos países europeus. Porém, a principal diferença da batata rösti para as panquecas é que ela não inclui farinha de trigo ou ovos. O autor suíço Jeremias Gotthelf menciona a receita em seu primeiro livro, “O espelho do fazendeiro”, de 1837. Esta receita era consumida por fazendeiros suíços, no café da manhã, geralmente acompanhada de bacon, carne seca, salsichas, pão, manteiga, geléias e leite.

Memórias Gastronômicas

A fondue já é uma velha conhecida de todos nós e não sei dizer quando teria sido a primeira vez que experimentei o prato. Apesar de chamá-lo de “o fondue”, é um prato bem popular entre os paulistanos no inverno e uma tradição lá em casa desde quando eu era criança. Trazem mais memórias da minha infância quando eu me enchia de queijo e passava mal (intolerância a lactose, lembra?) ou quando derrubava as carnes todas dentro da panela.

Agora lembrança de viagem eu tenho é da batata rösti! Já tinha ouvido falar das batatas suíças muitas vezes na vida e até cheguei a comer algumas versões genéricas aqui em São Paulo. Mas a primeira vez que comi uma autêntica Batata Rösti foi na viagem para a Suíça em abril de 2014.

Na época (como vocês provavelmente já sabem) eu morava em Roma e peguei um trem para Milão e depois outro para Lugano para encontrar o Tomás e os pais dele para o feriado da Páscoa. Depois de Lugano fomos também para Locarno, Luzern, Bern e Interlaken. Foi uma semana de muitas paisagens lindas, montanhas de picos nevados, lagos espelhados e cidades floridas pela primavera que acabava de chegar.

Aproveitamos para experimentar a fondue suíça original e também uma versão de chocolate, que acabaram não me surpreendendo tanto assim... mas nas batatas rösti eu viciei. Aquela crocância por fora e o recheio macio que derretia na boca... Não tem nada igual!

As receitas

Ainda que a fondue de queijo seja a mais tradicional, como eu já mencionei, prefiro a de carne no vinho. Além de não ter lactose, que pra mim é uma vantagem e tanto, a receita é ainda mais fácil do que a de queijo e não requer nenhuma habilidade culinária.

A batata rösti pode ser recheada com vários sabores, mas para acompanhar a fondue, basta fazer a receita simples, só com batata ralada e gordura para fritar! Já os molhos podem ser variados, mas deixei aqui três receitas clássicas que vão muito bem com a carne.

Batata Rösti

Ingredientes

200g de batata Manteiga ou outra gordura animal Cheiro verde Sal e pimenta-do-reino a gosto

Modo de preparo

No dia anterior, lave as batatas com casca em água corrente e pré-cozinhe com sal, inicialmente em fogo alto. Quando a água ferver, abaixe o fogo e deixe cozinhar por 10 minutos.

Passe-as em água fria e deixe-as na geladeira de um dia para o outro. Caso não seja possível, deixe gelar por pelo menos 2 horas.

Descasque e rale as batatas frias em ralo grosso.

Tempere com cheiro verde, sal e pimenta-do-reino a gosto.

Aqueça cerca de 1 colher de sopa da manteiga em uma frigideira média e, quando estiver quente, adicione a batata e modele com as costas de uma colher ou com uma espátula de silicone.

Coloque pedacinhos de manteiga nos cantos da frigideira após 3 minutos fritando. Frite, sem pressionar, até que esteja dourada e crocante, em cerca de 5 a 6 minutos.

Coloque mais manteiga e vire-a com o auxílio de uma espátula (ou transfira para um prato e vire com o auxílio de outro prato).

Frite-a até que o outro lado esteja dourado, também por cerca de 5 a 6 minutos. Se achar que que ainda não está dourado e crocante o suficiente, vire a batata novamente por 1 minuto de cada lado.

Sirva junto com a fondue.

+ Dicas: O segredo da batata sequinha é que ela esteja fria e bem seca quando for ralar. Se a gordura for animal, a fritura ficará mais saborosa, mas pode também ser feita com óleos vegetais para quem quiser fazer uma versão vegana.

Molhos

Molho Aioli

50ml de maionese 50ml de creme de leite 1 colher (sobremesa) de alho picado

Molho de Mostarda e Mel

1 colher (sopa) de mostarda (de preferência Dijon) 1 colher (sopa) de mel 3 colheres (sopa) de vinagre de vinho tinto ½ xícara (chá) de azeite Sal e pimenta-do-reino a gosto

Molho rosé

100ml de maionese 100ml de creme de leite 30ml de ketchup 10ml de mostarda 10ml de conhaque Uma pitadinha de molho inglês

Modo de preparo

Misture todos os ingredientes de cada molho individualmente e reserve na geladeira.

Sirva junto com a fondue.

Fondue de Carne au vin

Ingredientes

400g de filé-mignon 1 garrafa de vinho tinto seco 1 ramo de alecrim 1 ramo de tomilho Sal e pimenta-do-reino a gosto

Modo de preparo

Corte a carne em cubinhos e leve-a crua para a mesa em uma tigela própria.

Deixe o vinho ferver em uma panela própria para fondue com o ramo de alecrim e o de tomilho.

Assim que ferver, levar à mesa.

Um rechaud já deverá estar aceso na mesa, para manter a temperatura do vinho constante.

Espete os cubos de carne individualmente em espetos próprios para fondue e mergulhe no vinho até ficar no ponto desejado.

Passe a carne em um dos molhos e aproveite!

+ Dicas: As carnes utilizadas devem ter uma textura delicada, e ter pouca gordura aparente. Geralmente, o filé mignon é o mais utilizado na preparação do prato, mas também pode ficar bom com um miolo de alcatra. Não tempere a carne com sal antes de cozinhá-la no vinho, pois ela acaba soltando água em excesso, prejudicando o preparo do prato. Os molhos substituem o tempero!

E bom apetite! ~MV

+ Salvar no Pinterest para ler mais tarde:

#receitas #gastronomia #suíça #receitas de viagem #viajar sem sair de casa #mariscandoemcasa

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