Concupiscence ✔️

사라지다* [m]

18+ MATURE CONTENT WARNING: slight sexual scene

        He knew there was something wrong with his beautiful girlfriend when he walked into the room, having just come back from a run, shirt off, running shorts hanging on his hips, sweaty, and she did not jump him while he showered. The entire time Jungkook was showering he was expecting Yerim to come in, wrapping her arms around his slim waist and then he would proceed to pounce on her because he had all this built-up energy from his run and just wanted to bang his girlfriend.

Jungkook stepped out of the shower. One way or another he was going to get some action that evening. A week had passed. It was Monday again, a week and a day since Joy showed up at their doorstep with the damn USB. Where did it go? Joy had not taken it with her.

He walked out into their room. Their room. He smiled. He was living with the girl of his dreams. The girl he wanted to make his, the moment he laid eyes on her—regardless of the fact he had been in a relationship with Rosé. She was so beautiful. Witty, snarky, friendly, lovely, every positive noun he could think of that was what she was. Yerim was what he had been waiting for and luck had not been on his side when he met her at the time he was taken. Luck was on his side when she was attracted to him like he was to her and when he found out Rosé was cheating on him. When he broke up with her and then slept with Yerim, he should have confessed.

But his inklings had been right. Yerim thought him a fuck boy. Someone who slept around, and Rosé was lucky enough to "tame" him for a while. She slept with him; told him he was good, but a relationship would be bad.

Jungkook always found it funny how he suppressed his feelings for her and was okay with being her hook-up. Watching her date was the worst thing in the world. Of course, by then he tricked himself into thinking his jealousy was him not being used to her dating. It wasn't like that. He always liked her, and it took Jaehyun trying to woo her for him to realize; holy shit I'm in love with Yerim. And he always was and now he was a pouty baby. He needed her attention. Wanted her attention.

He stood there, in his towel, drying his hair with another. His pout evident because not once, once, had she looked up!

"Rim,"

Yerim looked at him. Amazingly she heard him but when she did her mouth slightly dropped. Her eyes traveling up and down his chiseled body. He smirked, seeing her pupils dilate. She liked what she saw—like the moment they first met. From day one, Yerim was going to be his.

"Y-y-yes?"

He nudged his head. "What are you doing, Yerimie? I came in, expecting to have some hot shower sex with my goddess of a girlfriend but you didn't come in and I'm left wanting. Only ... you won't be wet. I won't get to see the water drip down your body. As droplets fall from your nipples in their own trail."

He watched Yerim squirm. He was making her wet with his words. She sighed, putting the laptop away and taking her hair out of the bun. She kneeled on the bed, her own running shorts allowing for her legs to be seen. Like always, she wore one of his hoodies. He liked that and the way she placed her hands inside the pocket, pulled down the front and he knew what she was going to say, and it would make him hard.