ˑ ִ ֗ Jungkook’s Tiger Lily ˑ ִ ֗ @dailynnt - Tumblr Blog

TURN THE LIGHTS OFF

𐃯 Summary: After your fiancé cheated on you, you seek solace at the elite Inferno club in the heart of Gangnam. There you meet a mysterious guy with tattoos, piercings, and charisma that makes you forget your pain. One night of passion, but will it end there?

𐃯 Couple: Jeon Jungkook x The Reader, Jungkook x Y/N

𐃯 Age restrictions: 18+

𐃯 Size: one shot (10 650+ k words)

𐃯 Tags: from stranger to lover, angst, smut, one-night stand to more? nsfw, tattooed jungkook, elite club, cosmopolitan cocktails, alcohol, emotional healing, flirtatious banter, spicy tension, mature themes, eating pussy, sex, unprotected sex, drunk sex

𐃯 From author: Hiii 💜 I won't say much, but I will say that I am alive and still writing. I don't think this is my best work, but the idea for the fanfic came to me while I was writing something else, as usual. The plot came easily to me, so I wrote it, but it took me almost three weeks. I also have to mention that I'm working on sequels to the series and on a one-shot about Formula 1. I hope you're still waiting. (To briefly add about my condition — girls, it's horrible 😅, but let's not dwell on it because I'm tired of whining to you 🥲)! In any case, if you like it, I'll be happy!

𐃯 Dedication: to my precious @kelsyx33! It’s my modest-immodest gift for your birthday ❤️‍🔥 You know I love you 💜❤️‍🔥 I am infinitely grateful to you for your support and love 💜🙏🏻

𐃯 Warning: This fanfic contains explicit depictions of infidelity (fiancé cheating), heavy alcohol consumption to cope with heartbreak, intense flirtation leading to potential one-night stand, and mature sexual tension. Themes include trust issues, possessiveness, and rebound intimacy. 18+ only. English is not my native language, so some sentences might sound a little off or have grammar slips. I’m doing my best—hope you still vibe with the story! 🙏🏻

The Inferno nightclub was an elite venue in the heart of Gangnam. It was frequented by wealthy and influential people who wanted to end their day in a bright and carefree manner.

As the daughter of one of the richest men in Korea, you were, of course, well aware of this place — you had heard about it many times, but had never been there. You weren't the type to disappear into clubs at night, drink to excess, or have sex with strangers. You were a girl with a prestigious job, moderate, who only drank in the company of friends and was in a relationship that had lasted several years and was supposed to end in marriage.

But now, despite everything, you were sitting at the bar at Inferno, holding your fourth Cosmopolitan in your hand. The sweet and sour taste of cranberry and vodka burned your tongue, but it barely dulled the sharp pain.

A week ago, you found out that your fiancé, with whom you had been planning your wedding in six months, had cheated on you. You accidentally saw his correspondence with a colleague, Jivon, a lawyer with whom he was working on a joint case.

You tried to justify his delays at work and frequent business trips. He talked about an extremely important client connected to the government, who was part of the president's team. But your heart stubbornly felt that something was wrong.

When you saw his candid correspondence with Jivon, you almost fainted. They discussed the details of their sex life, planned what they would try next time; she sent him detailed nude photos of herself, and he responded in kind.

It was a heavy, devastating blow for you. Although you had noticed that your intimate relationship had lost some of its passion, and that over the years you had both grown accustomed to each other, what you saw shattered your world. A part of you died in that moment. Your love for Leejin, which you had thought was eternal, seemed to evaporate in an instant.

When he came and you showed him the phone and asked how long it had been going on, he began to make pathetic excuses. Standard phrases like "It's not what you think," "I'll explain everything," and "Honey, let's talk about this calmly" were absurdly ridiculous and meaningless. You hardly heard his words because you saw what you saw, and it couldn't be anything else. Your heart was broken into a thousand pieces, and you didn't know what to do.

Instead of the family you were supposed to have in six months, you got a heart torn to pieces and trust shattered to smithereens. All you could do was leave without saying another word. It was unbearably painful to realize that the person you considered your other half and the man of your life had rejected you.

Leejin tried to get you back. His calls were like a punch in the stomach, his visits to your apartment were unbearable, and you couldn't bring yourself to forgive him. You didn't know what to do with everything that had happened. If you told your parents, your father would destroy Leejin, but you couldn't keep quiet because you couldn't marry someone who had betrayed you for so long.

Your thoughts tormented you more than Leejin's behavior, so that evening, when your friends were discussing where to go for a walk in the chat room, you were the one who suggested going to a club. You needed chaos, loud music to drown out your thoughts, and a place that was radically different from your usual world. That's how you ended up at Inferno.

You drank cocktail after cocktail, letting the warmth of the vodka spread through your body. You didn't want to find a connection, you just wanted to forget. However, despite the alcohol, you couldn't relax.

Solha and Yuna went outside to smoke, and you stayed at the bar. Your eyes wandered around the room, and once again you caught the gaze of a stranger.

It was the same guy you bumped into in the crowd on your way to the bar. He appeared out of nowhere, and you accidentally bumped into him with your shoulder.

The guy was tall, with dark, neatly styled, slightly damp hair, dressed in a black unbuttoned leather shirt with rolled-up sleeves, under which you could see a black tank top and a tattoo that clearly adorned his muscular chest.

He wore a chain around his neck. On his right arm, you also noticed intricate tattoo designs stretching from his wrist upward. Even in the neon light of the club, you could see a snake and a lily painted on his arm. He also wore jeans that were a little too big for him and were held up only by his belt.

He had piercings on his face, and surprisingly, you liked how this guy looked, even though you always thought that such rebellious looks weren't for you. There was something about this man that made you focus your attention on him.

You apologized, but your words were drowned out by the music. He looked at you without looking away, as if trying to understand what you were saying. Then he took a step closer, leaning toward your ear:

"What are you saying?" you heard his low voice. You smelled his perfume, something woody and spicy, completely unlike ordinary men's fragrances.

"I'm sorry, I accidentally bumped into you," you shouted back, feeling his hot breath on your ear, which gave you goosebumps.

"You? It's my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going," he smiled, and despite the piercing on his lip, his smile was surprisingly sincere and charming. His eyes lingered on you a moment longer than politeness required. "There are probably too many people here to dance,"

"Yes," you nodded, trying not to lose your cool. "Excuse me, I have to go," you said, not holding his gaze, and walked away.

Since then, you constantly saw him among the crowd of people in the club. It wasn't that you were looking for him specifically, but the look you caught from him now told you that you were in his field of vision for a reason.

You knew that sooner or later he would approach you, and you didn't know what you wanted more: for him to do it sooner rather than later, or not at all.

Finally, you felt him stand behind you, and a moment later he sat down on the high stool next to you. He ordered a glass of whiskey. When he moved, you caught a whiff of his perfume, which you remembered and which stirred strange feelings in you. His gaze fell on you and was direct and indecently intense.

"You seem to have lost your company," he said. His voice was a pleasant baritone that carried even through the loud music.

"No, I’m not," you replied, feeling your pulse quicken. "They went for a smoke break."

"And you didn't go because you don't smoke?" He smiled slightly.

"I don't smoke," you replied, smiling back. There was a pause. His eyes were fixed on your face, and the attention was almost physical.

"Why are you sad?" he asked suddenly. You pressed your lips together slightly and raised your eyebrows, not expecting such a question.

"Do I look sad?" you asked.

"Yes. I've been watching you all evening, and it's very obvious," he replied. The bartender placed a glass of whiskey in front of him, and he looked away from you for just a moment to thank him with a nod.

"All evening?" you asked, as if you hadn't caught his gaze since you accidentally met. You tried to sound ironic. "Why have you been watching me all evening?"

"I liked you." He shrugged, speaking bluntly. You didn't rush to answer, struck by his directness. But he didn't let you dodge the question. "So why are you sad?" he asked again.

"Do you really want to know, or is this just a way to start a conversation?" you squinted. He smiled slightly, and a playful sparkle flashed in his eyes, as if he had just been caught in a cute trick.

"What if I say it's both?"

You smiled again, allowing yourself a small flash of admiration that this guy was being honest with you. You turned away to your cocktail, examining it.

"I don't think you're the type who wants to listen to 'girl talk,'" you assumed.

"Why do you think that?" he asked again with a smile on his lips. The tension between you began to grow, and you couldn't understand what was causing it.

"Because you look that way," you turned your face toward him, meeting his searching gaze.

"How do I look?" he arched an eyebrow.

"Like someone who doesn't waste time and knows what he wants," you replied. At first glance, he looked like a typical chebol. But not in the way of going to work at his father's office or holding a management position. He looked like someone who lived off his wealthy family and simply did whatever he wanted. His piercings and tattoos spoke of his rebellious nature. But you weren't stupid and understood why he was here. His gaze and behavior said that he had come to you for one thing only—sex.

"Are you so good at understanding people?"

"Oh no. I don't understand people at all," you smiled bitterly, thinking how you could not have seen how you were being betrayed. And it was so obvious.

"But you told the truth about me. I don't waste my time and usually wouldn't listen to 'girly stuff'. But for some reason, I want to know what's upsetting you," he said. For a moment, you thought he was being sincere, but your intuition told you not to trust him. He was here because he wanted you, not because he wanted to know why you were sad.

"Because you want me to let you get closer," you said bluntly, looking him in the eye.

"Maybe," he said seriously, without arguing.

"Do I look like someone who sleeps with strangers?" you asked, deciding not to hide the fact that you understood his intentions.

"No. You don't," he smiled, his voice calm and firm.

"Then why are you still here?" you became serious.

He didn't rush to answer. He just picked up his glass of whiskey and took a slow sip, as if savoring not the drink, but your question. Then he put the glass back down.

"Because you're not like the people who usually sit here," he said, without looking away. "You're not looking for attention. You don't smile at everyone who comes up to you. You sit here, drinking your fourth cocktail, looking like you want the whole club to burn to the ground. And at the same time, you look like you're afraid someone will notice."

You felt something tighten in your chest. He spoke, and every word hit the mark.

"You don't know me," you replied, but your voice wasn't as confident anymore.

"I know you weren't supposed to be here. And I know you don't drink to have fun. You drink to not think." He leaned a little closer, and you smelled that woodsy scent again. "And I know you don't sleep with strangers. But you let me sit down. And you haven't left yet."

You were silent. He was right. And it was annoying.

"Do you want me to leave?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," he replied immediately. "I want you to tell me what happened. Maybe it will make you feel better."

You turned away. You stirred your cocktail with a straw, hesitating to tell him what was still hurting you.

"Come on, you can tell a stranger in a nightclub anything. Your secret will die with me," he encouraged you.

"I've heard that it's bad to share your problems with strangers because then they somehowbeing involved in your life," you smiled, turning back and looking into his eyes, which already seemed to be undressing you.

"It's all up to you. You may never see me again after our conversation, or vice versa," he said, taking a sip of whiskey.

You glanced at him, then took a sip of your cocktail. You understood perfectly well that this man had not come to ask about your problems; he actually wanted to sleep with you, and this conversation was the beginning of foreplay.

"Have you ever lost everything you had in an instant?" you finally spoke.

He paused for a few seconds. You turned your head toward him and met his gaze, which surprisingly conveyed comfort and strength.

"Yes. It happened," he replied briefly.

Your eyes didn't leave each other for a second, but you swear it felt like an eternity to you.

"So you lost something?" he asked.

You nodded, feeling your throat tighten with emotions that were still fresh, like an open wound.

"Not 'something,' but 'someone,'" you said.

"A boyfriend?" he guessed.

"My fiancé," you said, and the word seemed to burn your tongue.

"Is he dead?" he asked. You snorted.

"I don't know what could be worse: if he were dead, or that fact he cheated on me."

"Could anyone betray a woman like you?" he asked, his voice full of genuine surprise. But you couldn't believe his sincerity. His reaction seemed fake.

"Oh, that sounds unconvincing," you said ironically, but he didn't even smile.

"I'm serious," he moved a few inches closer, and you noticed it. "You look like a woman who needs to be loved day and night. Who needs to be kept close 24/7, because someone will definitely take her away as soon as you take a step to the side. And some jerk cheated on you?"

You froze as he complimented you. It was said with such passion and confidence that your heart involuntarily began to beat faster. The thought flashed through your mind that if he wanted to seduce you, he was doing a very good job. But God, could you really sleep with a stranger?

"Yes. Can you imagine?" you ask, and for some reason your voice takes on a flirtatious tone rather than the pain you still felt. But why did you think he could drown it out better than vodka-based cocktails?

"I can't imagine what kind of scumbag he'd have to be," he says, his voice also taking on a flirtatious tone, dropping an octave.

You laugh again, unable to resist his tone and gaze. He's clearly a player and is now judging someone who cheated. It's funny.

"All men are scumbags," you say, unable to resist his remark.

"You judge everyone by your fiancé?" the man, whose name you still don't know, smiled defiantly.

"I judge all men. You all cheat. Even if you have a woman you should love day and night," you use his words against him. He laughs quietly and deeply again, and you can feel his laughter echoing in you with incomprehensible emotions.

"Then all women are stupid. Because they allow scumbags to do what they do," he leaned his elbow on the bar and took a sip of whiskey, looking at you from behind his glass. You couldn't help but notice the shadow of defiance in his eyes.

"Are you serious?" you exclaimed.

"Well, you're seriously saying that all men are scumbags," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Yes. Because even the most faithful will betray you someday. My fiancé acted caring, whispered how much he loved me. And the next day he was fucking his colleague in the office," you said sharply, unable to contain your emotions. The man with the piercing's expression changed slightly. But you couldn't tell what it meant: anger, irritation, or excitement from the discussion.

There was a short pause. He shrugged, twirling a glass of whiskey in his hands.

"Maybe you're right. But I can only speak for myself,"

"Well then, speak for yourself," you said, feeling irritated by him, "I'm sure you've cheated. But you're unlikely to admit it,"

"Never," you heard him reply. You froze, not expecting him to say it so quickly. You moved closer to him, turning your whole body toward him. And a fire was already burning inside you that you couldn't stop.

"Really?" you asked ironically.

"Yes," he replied, leaning toward you. "I've never cheated on a woman,"

"Because you didn't have one, right? Because you're a player who has a new woman every day, and that's why you don't cheated on," you said, analyzing him during the conversation.

"You've jumped to conclusions again, but based on what?" he smiled. He was clearly enjoying this conversation. But you didn't find it funny.

"Based on the fact that you've been watching me all evening and now you've come over to ask me for a one-night stand," you blurted out.

He laughed at you louder this time. And moved even closer. Your knees touched.

"I did want to offer you sex, but I'm not sure about one night anymore," he said, his eyes darting across your face.

"I don't have sex with people I don't know," you snapped and leaned back, trying to control how this man's closeness was suddenly affecting you.

"Then ask me anything you want to know," he persisted. You turned back to your cocktail.

"It doesn't work that way. I mean long-term communication," you said without looking at him. You felt him get up from his chair and come closer to you. He was close, and when his breath touched your ear for the second time that evening, you felt goosebumps run down your skin again.

"It can't be true. I can see that you're interested in me. And as you said, I've been looking at you all evening, but you've been looking at me too. I can see that you're responding, but for some reason you're hesitate."

You were struck by his directness and the fact that he noticed that you were looking at him too. And it’s not because he was looking at you, but because you liked him too.

"Come on, you're a grown woman. You can try sex with a stranger to numb the pain of betrayal. If you want, you can use me."

You slowly turned your head, and your faces were dangerously close. He glanced slowly at your lips, and you did the same. You felt like you wanted to taste them.

However, you didn't want to give in so quickly, even if it was to numb the pain.

"Oh, use you?" you asked quietly, almost surprised, trying to sound indifferent, but your breathing had already become uneven. "Do you really think I'm capable of that?"

"You're capable of anything to get rid of this pain," his gaze, black and deep, slid from your eyes to your lips. "And I can see it."

You were almost ready to respond with a sharp refusal, but his next move stopped you. He reached out his hand to you. You glanced at it briefly, then turned your eyes back to his.

"Let's go dance, and then you can give me your answer," he suggested.

You tilted your head, taken aback by this turn of events. It was unexpected and yet elegant. Instead of insisting, he was offering an innocent activity. You liked the way this man behaved. And the more time you spent with him, the longer you wanted to stay in his company.

You pushed your cocktail glass further along the bar table, feeling the bartender glance at you, and placed your hand in his.

His skin was warm, his palm firm, with a slight callus on his fingers, as if he did something with his hands. He squeezed your hand gently but confidently and pulled you out of your chair. You walked through the crowd—loud music pounded in your ears, neon lights flashed, bodies moved to the rhythm, sweaty and free. He led you to the dance floor, still holding your hand, and you felt his thumb slide across your palm—on purpose or not?

When you reached the center, he turned to face you, still holding your hand. The music slowed to something more sensual — a heavy beat with electronic notes that vibrated in your chest.

He pulled you closer, not too boldly, but enough for your chest to touch his torso. You started moving. The scent of his perfume enveloped you again — woody with something smoky that made your head spin more than vodka.

"Just relax," he whispered in your ear, his lips barely touching your earlobe. He leaned away for a moment, and then you leaned toward his ear:

"Using you?" you asked with a smile. He leaned back to see your eyes and that slightly sarcastic smile.

"Stop it," he said suddenly. You were embarrassed. What exactly had you done to make him react that way?

"What exactly?" you asked, moving with him. He leaned toward your ear again and said,

"Make me liking you more."

His words sent a strange sensation through your lower abdomen. After his words, you wanted to be liked by him even more. Your hands involuntarily squeezed his shoulders, which were as hard as steel. He kept his palms on your waist, his fingers sliding over the fabric of your dress, as if studying its contours.

You continued to move. Slowly at first, in rhythm, his hips touching yours, and you felt warmth spreading through your lower abdomen. The alcohol was doing its job — boundaries were blurring, the pain receding, replaced by something hot, primal. He leaned closer, his breath on your neck.

"If you want, you can use me any way you want," he whispered, his voice vibrating through the music.

You didn't answer with words — you just pressed closer, your hips synchronizing with his. His hands moved lower, to your thighs, squeezing gently, guiding you. You felt his hardness through his jeans—not intrusive, but obvious, and it sparked something in you that you hadn't expected. Your head fell back, your hair spilling down your back, and his lips barely touched your collarbone—not a kiss, but a hint.

The song picked up speed, and you moved faster. Bodies intertwined in the crowd, hearts beating in unison. You closed your eyes, letting the music drown out your thoughts. Leejin? Who is that? Pain? What pain? There was only this man — his hands, his scent, his gaze when you opened your eyes and met his — dark, hungry, and full of desire.

When the track ended, transitioning into something faster, he didn't let you go. He just stopped, holding your waist, and leaned toward your ear.

"So what's your answer?" he asked hoarsely, his lips barely touching your skin.

You looked at him, your breathing uneven, your lips parted. Your friends? They were somewhere out there, taking a break. The club? Chaos all around. And you... you wanted more. You wanted him to drown out that fire inside with another.

"Your name," you whispered, sliding your hand over his chest, feeling the tattoo under his shirt. "Tell me your name first."

He smiled—wide, defiantly—and leaned in so close that your lips almost touched.

"Jungkook, what about yours?"

You didn't answer him. Instead, you pulled him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him—sharply, hungrily, with a taste of cranberry and whiskey. His lips were soft, his piercing contrasting on your tongue, but the kiss was hot as hell. He responded instantly, pulling you closer, his tongue sliding into your mouth, exploring.

When you broke apart, breathless, he whispered,

"Does that mean ‘yes’?"

You nodded, feeling your heart pound. Jungkook took your hand and pulled you toward the exit—through the crowd, past the bar, onto the street, where the night air of Gangnam hit you with its coolness. Outside the club, he hailed a taxi. Jungkook opened the door for you, and you got in without thinking about the consequences.

The sexual tension that had been building in the club became almost unbearable in this confined space. You could feel his thigh against yours, but he remained surprisingly restrained: he didn't touch you, didn't speak, just looked at you. His gaze was heavy and impatient, and you knew that this restraint was just thin ice before an explosion.

When the taxi stopped at the luxurious ‘GOLDEN HOTEL’, you weren't even surprised. Of course, he had a room in a place like this. He paid the driver, and you followed him.

He didn't give his name at the front desk. The staff greeted him respectfully and simply handed him his key card. In a moment, he led you to the elevator.

You tried to breathe, but the air was electrified. You knew what you were doing. You were going into this consciously. It was your revenge, your escape, your desperate desire to forget that you had been hurt.

The elevator seemed endless. When the doors opened on his floor, he just took your hand, his fingers squeezing your palm, and led you to the end of the corridor. He opened the door, led you inside, and as soon as the lock clicked behind you...

He pressed you against the wall, devouring your lips with a deep, demanding kiss.

All the restraint you had maintained in the taxi exploded in that touch. It was not a gentle invitation, but a demand, and you met his desire with your own, accumulated over the evening.

He broke away from your lips to look into your eyes. His eyes burned with fire, and he exhaled:

"You won't regret your decision, beautiful."

His lips covered yours again, this time more slowly, with force that you felt your back press against the cold wall of the room. Jungkook's hands slid down your waist, clutching the fabric of your dress as if he wanted to tear it right there in the hallway. You responded with a kiss of equal passion—your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, feeling the dampness of his strands that still retained the warmth of the club air. The taste of whiskey on his tongue mingled with your cranberry cocktail, creating an intoxicating elixir that washed away the last traces of pain.

He stopped kissing your lips and moved down to your neck. His hot breath burned your skin.

"You're so hot," he whispered hoarsely, his lips touching the throbbing vein in your neck. You felt his teeth gently bite your skin — not painfully, but enough to send a wave of excitement through your body. Your head fell back against the wall, and your hands involuntarily reached for his shirt. You pulled it off in one motion, revealing a black tank top the outlines of tattoos visible underneath. Your palm slid under the fabric, feeling the warm, smooth skin of his chest — hard muscles tensing under your touch.

Jungkook moaned softly as your nails lightly scratched his skin. His hands moved lower, to your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress. His fingers slid over the bare skin of your legs, leaving traces of fire.

"I want you all night," he murmured, pressing his body against yours. You felt his hardness—firm, tense through his jeans, pressing against your stomach. It aroused a new wave of desire in you; you arched toward him, rubbing against him, feeling the wetness gathering between your legs.

He couldn't resist — with one hand he grabbed your hip, lifting your leg to press closer. His lips moved lower, to your collarbone, where he left a wet kiss, and then lower still, to the edge of your neckline. You felt his tongue slide across the skin above your breasts, and his free hand unzipped the back of your dress. The fabric slid off your shoulders, revealing your lace bra. Jungkook took a step back to look—his eyes darkened as they slid over your body, as if he was already imagining taking off the rest.

"I never doubted for a moment that you were perfect," he breathed, his voice low and full of desire. He leaned down, his lips touching your breasts through the lace, his teeth gently tugging at the edge of the cup. He helped himself with his hand, pulling one of your breasts out of your bra. You moaned as his tongue found your nipple—hard and sensitive with arousal. He sucked slowly, the circular movements of his tongue making your hips tremble. Your hand slid down to his waistband, unfastening the buckle. His jeans slid down, revealing boxers that showed his erection — large and ready to enter you right now.

Jungkook pulled away from your breasts to kiss you again, this time harder. His hand slipped between your legs, his fingers sliding over your panties, feeling the wetness.

"You're already so wet for me," he whispered into your lips, then one finger slid under the fabric, touching your clit. You shuddered, a moan escaping your throat as he teased you with gentle circular movements, not penetrating, only intensifying your desire. Your hand wrapped around him through his boxers, squeezing, feeling him throb in your palm.

He froze for a moment when you squeezed him. His finger stopped on your clitoris, and then he exhaled heavily a millimeter from your lips. His hand gently took yours, pressing it above your head.

"Don't stop me from enjoying you," he whispered into your lips and at that very moment slid his two finger into your passage. You closed your eyes, feeling his fingers stretch your walls, and moaned softly. He made a few movements inside. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter as you thought about how wonderful it would be when he entered you with his cock.

"You let me to use you," you moaned, pretending to be upset that he wouldn't let you touch him. He kissed you without answering. His tongue invaded your mouth possessively and insistently, and you got high from the slightest movement of his lips and tongue.

Jungkook broke away from your lips only for a moment to look into your eyes — his pupils were dilated, black as an abyss, full of promise. His two fingers moved slowly and teasingly inside you, enjoying your moans and the trembling of the walls that squeezed around him. You felt a wave of pleasure full you, and it was so intense that you involuntarily arched your back, pressing your hips against his palm.

"Are you that greedy?" he whispered hoarsely. The stretching was a sweet pain that turned into pure bliss — he moved deeper, touching a spot that made stars flash before your eyes. Your free hand dug into his shoulder, your nails leaving marks on his skin. He just smiled, quickening his rhythm. "I really let you use me, beautiful. But first, let me show you how it's done right."

His lips descended to your neck again. His kisses brought him to your jaw, rose to your ear, and his teeth gently bit your earlobe. The pain mixed with pleasure, causing a storm of emotions to rage inside you.

His tongue traced a hot path down to your collarbone. You felt completely uninhibited — as if all the weight, all the pain from Leejin, all your restrained, perfect life had dissolved in that moment. With Jungkook, you were different: bold, greedy, alive. You forgot everything — the betrayal, the wedding plans, who you were. There was only this fire inside you, burning brighter with each of his touches, and you gave yourself completely to him, letting your body lead, not your mind.

You reached for his boxers, but he caught your hand again, pressing both of them above your head with one palm. His strength was playful, dominant, but not frightening — on the contrary, it made you melt, feel desired, protected in his power.

"Don't rush," he murmured, slowly removing his fingers from you, making you moan at the loss. He brought them to his lips, licked them, tasting you, his eyes never leaving yours. "You taste like sin. And I want more."

He let go of your hands only to lift you into his arms—lightly, as if you weighed nothing. Your dress slid even lower, exposing your thighs, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your whole body against him.

He carried you to the bed, across the huge room, kissing you. He walked so confidently, as if he knew the way by heart. The light in the room was dim, and because of his intense kisses, you couldn't see anything around you.

The luxurious room was a large. The big bed with dark sheets, panoramic windows overlooking Gangnam at night — but you barely noticed it. He threw you onto the mattress gently but confidently and stood over you, removing his tank top in one motion.

His body was a masterpiece — pumped-up chest with tattoos that writhed as if alive: chaotic lines covering his right chest and running to his shoulder, complex colorful drawings that you wanted to examine in detail. You reached out, running your fingers over the drawings, feeling the warmth of his skin, the relief of his muscles. He leaned down, removing your dress completely, then your bra — enjoying every inch of your bare skin. Your breasts were freed, your nipples still hardened from arousal and now from the cool air.

"Look at me," he commanded softly, and you obeyed, feeling completely free in this submission. He moved lower, his lips touching your stomach, your thighs, spreading your legs wider.

His breath burned the inside of your thighs, and then—oh God—his tongue slid over your wetness through your panties. You arched your back, moaning loudly, without shame. He pulled the fabric down, exposing you completely, and his mouth covered you — his tongue circled your clitoris, sucked, penetrated inside, imitating what you so desired to feel with his cock.

Pleasant sensations grew wave after wave — you forgot how to breathe evenly, forgot about the world outside the window. You were a different person: uninhibited, moaning incessantly, grabbing his hair and pulling him closer. Every cell in your body sang with pleasure, the pain of the past disappeared, replaced by pure, animalistic ecstasy. You gave yourself completely — your hips moving toward his tongue, your fingers scratching the sheets, your voice begging,

"More... Jungkook, please..."

And he listened. Your moans became more like cries as he began to lick your folds more actively, adding his fingers inside again. You felt the orgasm approaching. The pleasurable tingling sensation in your lower abdomen reached its peak and your fingers squeezed sheets tighter.

You opened your mouth to say that you were close, but one movement of his tongue and you came. The orgasm exploded brightly and blissfully. You squeezed his fingers inside you, your clitoris twitching on his tongue. Jungkook continued to move it, taking it all for himself.

Your thighs trembled and you tried to catch your breath, which had been knocked out by the orgasm. Finally, Jungkook pulled away from you and raised his head, looking at your face, which expressed absolute pleasure. You forced your eyes open and saw him smiling. You reflexively smiled back. He had done a really good job.

Jungkook got up, pulling down his boxers, and his cock sprang free — big, hard, with big veins. He settled between your legs. You watched as he took his cock in his hands and rolled it a few times. You saw pre-cum dripping from the tip. He moved closer, his eyes never leaving your wet, swollen pussy, and tapped your sensitive clit with the head.

Your breathing quickened. This was something new, something you had never felt before. Your hips twitched slightly, and he looked up at your face to gauge your reaction. His gaze was playful, with a spark that promised you unforgettable sensations.

He hit your clitoris with his cock again, this time a little harder, causing you to flinch and bite your lip. Immediately after the blow, he began to run the head of his cock over your folds, as if to soothe you. Jungkook leaned over, resting on one elbow, and kissed you.

"Don't you like it when I do that?" he asked, barely breaking away from your lips.

"I like it," you said, enjoying the way he caressed your clitoris with the head of his cock.

Jungkook purred softly, the sound low and vibrating, as if it passed through your skin straight into your bones. The head of his cock slid over your folds again, smearing wetness and precum, and you felt your body involuntarily reaching for him, as if drawn by a magnet.

"Do you want more?" he asked, but it was a rhetorical question. You were dying to feel him inside you.

"I want," you exhaled. You really couldn't wait for him to enter you. His eyes, black, burning, full of power, didn't let go of yours. He slowly, teasingly ran the head of his cock over your clit again, even harder, and you moaned, your hips jerking as if they wanted to rise up to meet him.

He was still close, his lips barely touching yours, but he didn't kiss you — he just breathed into your mouth, letting you feel his warmth.

"You're so sensitive. I'm not even inside you yet, and you're already trembling."

You moaned from the pleasant sensations he created with the movements of his cock on your pussy. You wanted more, but he seemed to be deliberately delaying. To encourage him to act, one of your hands squeezed his bicep, and the other dug into his shoulder, your nails deliberately scratching his skin a little harder. He didn't stop.

"You still haven't told me your name," he said suddenly. His words caught you off guard. You really hadn't told him your name. But for some reason, you didn't want to.

He pressed himself against your pussy and began to move, stimulating your clitoris with his cock. Your body responded to his movements — your hips involuntarily rose to meet him, seeking more friction, more pressure. The orgasm that had just receded was building again, slowly but inevitably, like a wave gathering strength before crashing onto the shore.

"Is that important right now?" you asked with a slight smile. There was something intriguing about the fact that you knew his name, but he didn't know yours.

"Don't want to tell me?" he chuckled, seemingly enjoying the game you had started. His free hand slid up your thigh, his fingers squeezing your skin as if marking his territory. "It turns me on even more. But I'm used to knowing the name of the girl I bring to an unforgettable orgasm."

His words hit you like an electric shock — right in the pit of your stomach, causing your walls to contract with anticipation. You bit your lip, trying not to moan loudly, but it didn't work: a quiet, hoarse sound escaped you. He smiled defiantly, knowing he had power over you.

"But if you don't want to... I can think of something myself," he continued, looking at your face. "How about a beauty... or better yet, a sinner... or a former bride..." Each word was accompanied by a new movement — his cock slid lower, to the entrance, barely touching, teasing, but not penetrating. You felt your wetness dripping onto the sheets, your body begging for more.

You didn't answer — you just deviated a little and next your hand slid down his abs to his cock — you wrapped your fingers around it, squeezed, moved up and down slowly, feeling it pulse in your palm, the veins tensing under your touch. He exhaled heavily, his eyes closed for a moment, but he didn't stop you this time.

"Fuck..." escaped his lips in a quiet whisper. You smiled — for the first time that evening, you felt that the power had shifted slightly to you. You quickened your movements, your thumb sliding over the head, smearing the precum, and he moaned softly, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily.

"Maybe I just don't want you to know," you finally replied, looking him in the eyes. Your voice was quiet, but with a hint of defiance. "It's better if, for you, I'm were just... a girl from the club. The one you picked up to numb her pain." You squeezed him tighter, and he exhaled through his teeth, leaning in so close that your foreheads touched.

"The girl from the the club..." he repeated, as if tasting the words. His hand rested on yours, stopping your movements—not abruptly, but firmly. "Then I must try to drown out your pain."

He let go of your hand only to lift your legs and throw them over his shoulders. You found yourself completely exposed to him — vulnerable, naked, but it didn't scare you; on the contrary, it aroused you even more. His cock touched your entrance, pressing lightly, stretching you slowly. You felt the head penetrate a centimeter inside, then retreat — again and again, imitating what was about to happen.

The pain from its size was there, but your desire to have it inside you was stronger.

"Please..." you blurted out involuntarily. You didn't recognize your voice — hoarse, pleading, full of despair.

"What is it, girl? What are you asking for?" he asked, smiling. But his eyes were burning with excitement. He leaned down, his lips touching yours, the kiss slow and deep, while his cock still teased you at the entrance.

"Come in..." you breathed into his lips, "just come in already..."

He didn't make you wait any longer. With one slow but confident movement, he entered you completely, stretching your walls, filling you as if you were made for him. You screamed, feeling both pain and pure bliss at the same time. Jungkook froze for a moment, allowing you to get used to it, his breath hot on your neck.

"That's it," he whispered, starting to move — slowly at first, deeply, each thrust drawing a moan from you. "Good girl... it’s so fucking good... You took me so well..."

Your legs were thrown over his shoulders, allowing him to go deeper, touching spots you didn't even know you had. Jungkook held your hips, his fingers digging into your soft skin, leaving light marks, and his gaze never left your face, hungry, as if he were drinking in your reactions.

His hips slammed into yours, the sound of skin on skin mixing with your moans. You arched your back toward him, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, and he leaned down, capturing one with his lips. His teeth bit gently, his tongue swirled, and you felt a new wave of wetness flood the place where you were joined.

You didn't stop moaning, and with each new movement, your moans grew louder. You felt something bordering on euphoria, and the feeling was so wonderful. Jungkook released your nipple with a wet smack and thrust deeper, making you cry out.

"What pleasant sounds..." he said barely audibly through his ragged breathing, "I want to hear more..." His movements became stronger, rhythmic — in, out, each time to the end, touching that sweet spot inside that made your eyes roll back. Your hands were on his hips, your fingers digging into his flesh, forcing him to press against you as tightly as possible. He fucked you lying down, his body on top of you, his muscles tense, sweat beginning to cover his forehead and his whole body with a thin layer. You were sweating too, but neither of you paid any attention to it.

You were close — the orgasm was building again, faster, more intense than the last one. Your body trembled, your walls tightened around him, and you felt him pulsing in response.

"Jungkook... I'm... close..." you exhaled, but he suddenly stopped, still deep inside you, and you moaned in frustration.

"Not so fast, girl from the club" he whispered, kissing your neck. He pulled out, leaving you empty and begging, and flipped you onto your stomach with one confident movement. You found yourself on your knees, face in the pillow, as he pressed himself against you from behind with his whole body—hot, heavy, and dominant. His chest was on your back, one hand slid down to your clit, starting to circle with his fingers, and the other found your hand, squeezing it.

He entered you again—from behind, deeper than before, and you moaned softly into the pillow, feeling him stretch you at a new angle. Jungkook exhaled heavily as he began to fuck you. His hips pushed you forward, the sound of your sex filling the room, his weight pressing you into the mattress, preventing you from escaping the pleasure. You felt his breath on the back of your neck, his lips biting your shoulder, his tongue licking your skin. His hand on your clitoris quickened, his fingers sliding through the wetness, and you trembled beneath him, completely subjugated.

The orgasm hit you suddenly—you screamed, squeezing him inside you, your body convulsing. He didn't stop, continuing to move through your contractions, prolonging the bliss until you relaxed, breathless.

Then he pulled out, turned you onto your back, and sat back against the headboard, leaning on the pillows. He still hadn't come. His cock stood hard, glistening with your wetness, and he beckoned you with his finger.

"Come here, beautiful. Sit on me. I want to see your face when you come again."

Still trembling, you crawled over, straddled him, your legs on either side of his hips. You took him in your hand, guided him to the entrance, and lowered yourself slowly—feeling him fill you again, hitting new spots at this angle. You moaned as you began to move — up and down, circling your hips. His hands on your waist guided you, his fingers digging in, his eyes looking into yours.

"So good," you exhaled, unable to contain the pleasure inside. Jungkook smiled. He began to move his hips toward you, pressing you down to be deep inside you, then sat up, wrapping his arms around your body.

You opened your eyes, lowering them slightly, and met his gaze. He looked at your half-open lips as you continued to move on top of him.

"Did I do my job?" he asked suddenly. You froze for a moment, remembering what his job was supposed to be. Jungkook pushed you hard, knocking the already heavy air out of you.

"What job?" you asked. Jungkook stopped you and you both breathed heavily. He looked at you for a few seconds and then smiled, playfully and, you would even say, triumphantly. His lips found yours. His tongue intertwined with yours, and the wet sounds of your kiss were so pleasant to your ears.

Jungkook released your lips and, an inch away from them, said,

"To drowned out your pain," and kissed you again, pushing his tongue into your mouth. But this kiss was so quick that you didn't even have time to respond properly. "You forgot why you're here, except for sex? Right?"

You froze, feeling his words hit the mark — sharper than any thrust of his hips. Yes, you forgot. You forgot about Leejin, about the betrayal, about the broken heart that burned inside you yesterday like red-hot iron. There was only him — Jungkook, his body beneath you, his cock deep inside you, pulsing in time with your heartbeat. You forgot everything except this heat spreading through your veins, except the desire to move faster, harder, so that this fire would burn away the remnants of pain forever.

You didn't answer with words — you just pressed yourself closer to him, your hand tangled in his hair, pulling his face to yours, and you kissed him — greedily, demandingly, with a taste of salty sweat and whiskey. Your tongue invaded his mouth, exploring, fighting for dominance, but he responded with equal force, squeezing your waist with his fingers as if he wanted to press you into him forever.

"Yes," you finally breathed into his lips, pulling away for a moment to inhale. Your voice was hoarse, almost unfamiliar — full of satisfaction and recognition. "You drowned him. Completely." You pushed your hips down harder, feeling him go deeper, hitting that spot that made your eyes roll back. A moan escaped your throat—loud, unashamed, and you didn't try to hold it back.

Jungkook laughed low. His hands moved lower, to your buttocks, squeezing them, guiding your movements.

"Okay," he whispered, pushing his hips up to meet you, making you bounce. "Come on, use me, girl whatever you want. Show me what you can do when you're not thinking about him."

His words ignited something primal in you—you sped up, moving up and down faster, circling your hips, squeezing him inside you deliberately to hear him moan. His head fell back on the pillow, his eyes half-closed, his lips parted—he looked so sexy, so vulnerable in that moment that you felt a rush of power. Your hand slid over his chest, your nails scratching the tattoo on his skin, leaving red marks, and he hissed with pleasure, pushing you harder.

"Fuck, you're... perfect," he muttered, one hand rising to your breasts, squeezing one, his thumb circling your nipple. You arched your back, letting him play, but not stopping — your movements became chaotic, desperate, the orgasm building again. You felt wetness running down your thighs, down his, as the place where you joined became slippery, hot, perfect.

"Come for me," he commanded hoarsely, one hand sliding between your bodies, his fingers finding your clitoris, beginning to rub it quickly, mercilessly. "I want to feel you squeeze me. I want to hear you scream my name."

It was too much—his fingers, his cock, his voice. The orgasm hit you like a tsunami: you screamed, squeezing him inside you, your thighs trembling.

"Jungkook!" His name burst out loud, breaking into a moan. He didn't stop, continuing to move through your contractions, prolonging the wave, but you felt him harden inside you as much as possible.

With one quick movement, he pulled you off his cock and spilled between your bodies. You froze above him, feeling the hot drops of his cum spread across your skin — on your stomach, on your thighs, sticky and warm, like the final seal of this crazy evening.

Your body was still trembling from the afterglow of orgasm, your walls throbbing with emptiness, your breathing so heavy that your chest rose and fell in unison with his. Jungkook lay beneath you, his eyes half-closed, his lips parted in a satisfied smile — the piercing on his lower lip glinted in the dim light of the lamp. His hand slid lazily down your back, his fingers tracing an invisible pattern on your sweaty skin, as if he didn't want to let go of the moment.

"Fuck... that was incredible," he muttered hoarsely, his voice low and satisfied, with a hint of laughter. He lifted his head to look down at the mess between your bodies, at the glistening semen running down his abs.

You couldn't help but smile — a weak but sincere smile, the first in a long time without a hint of pain. You slid off him slowly, your legs still weak, and sat down next to him. Jungkook turned to you, pulled you closer with one hand around your waist, and your bodies touched again—sweaty, perfectly matched.

"Wanna help me clean up this mess, girl from the club?"

He nodded down at his stomach, and you smiled seductively, knowing what he was hinting at. Today, you felt more freedom in your actions than ever before. You leaned down, your lips touching his skin — first on his chest where there were small splashes, then lower, your tongue sliding over the salty semen, tasting the mixture of both of you.

Jungkook made a low guttural sound, his hand tangled in your hair, not pressing, just holding. You licked again, slowly, and felt his cock twitch nearby — still semi-hard, sensitive after everything.

"You... are dangerous," he exhaled, pulling you back up for a kiss — slow, lazy, unhurried. His tongue slid over your lips, testing you, and you responded, wrapping your arms around his neck. The world outside the window — nighttime Gangnam with its neon lights — seemed distant, unreal. There was only this room, this bed, this man who drowned your pain better than any alcohol or revenge.

You were the first to break the kiss, you looked at each other for a moment, and then you lay down flat. You stared at the dark ceiling, trying to steady your breathing and not think about the fact that you had just had sex with a stranger for the first time in your life. You had to admit that this stranger had given you some of the best orgasms of your life.

You felt Jungkook move closer, carefully covering you with a sheet to cover your naked body. But instead of just lying down next to you, he pressed himself against you, hugging you. His nose touched your jaw, tickling your skin with his breath. You felt pleasure from his unobtrusive embrace and the strength of his body. But was it normal? To lie in bed with a man you had known for a few hours, after crazy sex, and just cuddle?

What would be the right thing to do? Take a shower and leave? Or continue lying there with him until you fall asleep? Usually, after sex, you would take a shower, and then you and Leejin would fall asleep in each other's arms. Lately, after sex, he didn't fall asleep with you, but went to the kitchen or living room, pretending to work. Only now did you realize that he was probably going to talk to his colleague, with whom he was cheating on you.

You felt him put his hand on your thigh and begin to caress your skin with gentle, unhurried movements.

"Is this necessary?" your voice suddenly broke the silence. Jungkook's fingers stopped. He propped himself up on his elbow to look at you.

"What exactly are you asking, beautiful?" he asked, looking straight into your eyes, which reflected the lights of the night city.

"This embrace and tenderness," you replied.

He looked at you for a few seconds, as if pondering your question, and then smiled slightly — not defiantly, as before, but more softly, with a hint of warmth that contrasted with his rebellious appearance. His fingers continued to glide over your skin, lightly, like a feather, drawing invisible circles that sent pleasant sensations through you. He leaned closer, his nose touching your cheek, and you felt his hot breath.

"Necessary? No," Jungkook whispered low, his voice hoarse with exhaustion but still full of that confidence. "But you look like you need it. Besides you need some rest. I'm not done with you yet."

You were a little shocked; you had just experienced orgasms that tore you apart, and you thought it was over. You almost laughed, but all that came out was a quiet, surprised exhalation.

"More? Are you serious? We just finis..." you said, but he didn't let you finish. He simply turned you on your side and pressed himself against you from behind. His soft cock touched your buttocks. One arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your back against his chest, and the other slid down your stomach, caressing your skin gently, as if to soothe you.

You felt his lips touch the back of your neck — a light kiss, then another on your neck. He didn't rush, didn't insist, just held you, letting your heart rate slow down. Your body, still sensitive after everything, reacted to every touch: goosebumps ran across your skin, your nipples hardened from the coolness of the sheets and the warmth of his palm.

"Seriously," he murmured into your hair, his voice vibrating against your skin. "You think once is enough? No, girl from the club. I told you I want you all night."

You don't know how much time passed while you were lying quietly in each other's arms. You were already starting to fall asleep when you felt it. His hand moved lower, his fingers sliding purposefully between your thighs, barely touching the swollen folds, still wet from before. You shuddered, a quiet breath escaping involuntarily as his finger found your clitoris, circling gently, as if checking how ready you were.

You were surprised at yourself, at how your body responded: moisture gathered instantly, your thighs involuntarily spread wider, inviting him in. He felt it — a quiet laugh sounded near your ear.

"See? You want it too." His erection, which was starting to harden again, began to press harder against your buttocks. He kissed your neck, his teeth gently biting your earlobe, and his hand between your legs quickened: two fingers slipped inside, stretching you, making you arch in his embrace.

You turned your head, searching for his lips, and he met you with a kiss — not greedy like before, but deep, with a growing thirst. Your tongue intertwined with his, you responded with equal force, your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. He rolled you onto your back in one motion, without removing his fingers — now you were lying beneath him, legs spread, his body above you. He positioned himself between your thighs, his cock touching your entrance, sliding along your wetness, but not entering.

"Jungkook..." you moaned, your hips rising to meet him. He smiled, his eyes flashing in the semi-darkness, and finally he entered, filling you completely. You moaned softly, feeling him stretch your walls, touching every sensitive spot. He moved slowly, each thrust deep and measured, as if enjoying every second. His lips were on your breasts, his tongue explored almost every inch of your body, his teeth bit gently, and you didn't know if you had ever felt so satisfied and desired in someone's arms.

You made love for hours — slowly, then faster, changing positions, as if you couldn't get enough. You didn't sleep until morning — just breathing heavily, laughing quietly between kisses, your bodies intertwining again and again. The light outside the window turned gray, Gangnam woke up, and you were still in each other's arms, his cock inside you for the last time, your movements lazy, as if saying goodbye.

Finally, in the early hours of the morning, you were both exhausted. You fell asleep in each other's arms, and you were the first to wake up. Your body ached with pain and fatigue, but you had to go. You grabbed your phone and saw missed calls from your friends and text messages. You quickly wrote that you were fine and that you would tell them everything later.

Quietly, almost like a shadow, you slipped out of his warm and pleasant embrace, and your skin immediately broke out in goose bumps. You quickly got dressed, feeling the scent of his perfume on your skin and clothes, which you will never forget.

You felt that you couldn't leave without a trace. But you didn't want to wake him up. You carefully took 10,000 won out of your purse and put it on the table in the living room, finally noticing how large and luxurious the room was. You wrote him a short note. And you quietly left, letting him sleep.

Jungkook woke up feeling slightly tired. The sex with the girl from the club all night long was just incredible. He hadn't felt such pleasure in a long time; it seemed that the girl was just made for him.

His hand fell on the spot next to him and immediately felt the coolness. Jongkook turned around, opened one eye, and noticed that the girl was nowhere to be found. The thought immediately flashed through his mind that she had left, but he hoped that she was in the shower or somewhere in the room.

He got up, barely found his black Calvin Klein boxers that sat low on his hips, and rubbed his sleepy eyes to clear his vision a little. His hair was sticking out in all directions, and his lips were slightly swollen from sleep and the hundreds of kisses he had received that night.

Jungkook went into the bathroom, but everything was dry, with no signs that she had taken a shower. He went out to the living room, and everything was in its place there too. He touched his face with his palm, smiling.

His gaze swept over the perfectly tidy room, but there was no trace of her. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to collect his thoughts. The girl from the club. He didn't even find out her name or give her his phone number. She disappeared like a ghost, leaving behind only memories of her moans, her taste, her body that responded so perfectly to his every touch.

He returned to the bedroom, glancing at the bed where just yesterday they couldn't tear themselves away from each other. His lips involuntarily stretched into a smile — bold, but with a hint of irritation. She had run away. After a night like that. She had awakened an interest in him he couldn't explain, but she made his heart beat faster when he remembered her gaze — sad at first, then so wild, so free during their intimacy.

He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his neck, feeling a slight ache in his muscles — a pleasant reminder of how she had scratched his back, how she had gripped his hair, how she had screamed his name. Jungkook bent down to pick up his shirt from the floor, and his gaze caught on something on the bedside table. Something that hadn't been there yesterday.

A note. And a 10,000 won bill, neatly folded underneath it.

He frowned, feeling a tightness in his chest. Jungkook picked up the piece of paper, pinching it casually between two fingers. He read the lines written in neat but slightly chaotic handwriting:

"You're more intoxicating than any cocktail. Thank you for the night when I forgot about everything."

Jungkook laughed out loud. He reread it again. And again. He didn't expect that a trip to the bar would end with him picking up a girl. And what was even funnier in this situation was that she left him money after sex as if he were her one-time fling. It was funny, but she really used him.

He got up, threw the note into the pocket of his jeans lying on the floor, and went to take a shower. The cold water should have washed her out of his mind, but it couldn't. He stood under the jets, closed his eyes, and saw her — how she bit her lip when he teased her clit, how her thighs trembled when she came. His hand involuntarily clenched into a fist, hitting the tile. He wasn't used to this. He wasn't used to someone leaving him with a feeling of emptiness.

Jungkook turned off the water, dried himself with a towel, and returned to the bedroom. He put on the new clothes that had been delivered to the room.

Jungkook drove to the office, gripping the steering wheel tightly, but his thoughts kept returning to girl from the club. He needed to focus, but he couldn't.

His phone vibrated, and the name "Jimin-hyung" lit up on the dashboard.

"Hello," he answered, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Hey, buddy, where did you disappear to yesterday so suddenly that you didn't even answer your calls?" Jimin's voice was, as always, too cheerful for the morning.

Jungkook decided to lie, not saying what the real reason for his disappearance was.

"I got bored, so I decided to go home."

But Jungkook's lie didn't work.

"Come on, do you think I'm stupid? I saw you approach the girl sitting at the bar. Besides, you would never leave without saying goodbye! Admit it, you picked her up, didn't you?"

Jimin held his breath, hoping he was right, but Jungkook just smiled quietly and told the truth this time.

"Yes, Jimin-hyung, I hooked up with the girl!"

Jimin rejoiced for his friend too loudly, forcing Jungkook to turn down the volume.

"Finally... finally this guy had sex. So should I call Grandpa to congratulate him that he has a candidate for daughter-in-law for Jeon family?"

Jungkook rolled his eyes slightly at his friend's violent reaction and, stopping at a traffic light, finally glanced at the dashboard.

"Don't say anything to Grandpa. He doesn't need to know that I was with someone. Besides, nothing will happen with that girl," said Jungkook, his voice taking on a cold tone.

"Why?" Jimin asked briefly.

"Because it was just one night..." Jungkook replied. Jimin didn't answer, letting Jungkook continue talking. "She didn't tell me her name, but she left 10,000 won... can you imagine?"

There was a moment of silence, and then Jimin burst out laughing, which made Jungkook quietly chuckle too at the surrealism of the situation.

"Seriously? You fucked a girl without even knowing her name. Damn, were you so busy that it wasn't an urgent question?" Jimin continued to laugh into the phone.

"I was busy, but I asked her twice. She didn't say," Jungkook justified himself.

"Oh my..." Jimin was surprised, "that's interesting... but 10,000 won? Man, she valued you so highly, I have to congratulate you," he said ironically. Jungkook snorted.

"Thanks," he said and pressed the gas pedal, pulling away.

"Okay, I'll wait for you at the office. I need to hear the whole story with all the juicy details," said Jimin.

"I'll be there in 10 minutes," Jungkook said and hung up, but the smile didn't fade. He knew that Jimin would pester him with questions and he would have to tell him everything. But he didn't mind reliving the events of last night againn.

The song that inspired me to write ❤️‍🔥 is quite old, but I love it 💜

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ˑ ִ ֗ Jungkook’s Tiger Lily ˑ ִ ֗