✔️ Unconditionally [Book 2] | Jeon Jungkook

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Jungkook stared unblinking at the series of thumbnails in the locked folder now made available to him.

72.

72 photos and videos taken over the course of six months stared back at him, and thus began the greatest moral dilemma he had ever faced in his life.

His trembling thumb hovered over the first photo, shallow breaths tripled their normal rate, heart beating the loudest he had ever heard in his life...

The Rocket ready to fucking launch.

This was his phone. These were photos that he'd taken of his fiancée, and judging by what he could see of her face in some of the thumbnails, these were photos she'd consented to him taking. Happily consented to.

The rationale made sense:

These were Jungkook's photos,
And he suddenly felt like Jungkook.

He tapped the first one and the photo took up almost the entirety of the screen. She lay on her back, eyes closed, hair partially obscuring her face, lips parted into a moan that he could almost hear.

His hand wrapped lovingly around her slender throat.

In the next, her eyes were open and hooded, her usual rich chocolate pools more resembling the contents of an inkwell. Sweat beaded on her face and collected in the hollow of her neck where her collarbones met, making her raven hair cling to her skin. His hand caressed her face, his thumb pulling her lower lip just slightly to the left.

The next photo went lower. Her warm, soft breasts that were pressed against his back a few days ago were completely exposed, displaying large, hardened nipples. His hand squeezed one roughly and Jungkook could see a trail of milk leaking from it and streaming over the back of his hand.

He shifted in his seat. The fabric of his clothes had become uncomfortably tight as his length throbbed at the sight.

This was not right. This was not something he should be doing.

He swiped right.

The next one was a video that began playing on its own, it's sound thankfully muted. He looked over his shoulder to verify the family room was indeed empty, even though it was well past midnight and everyone else was probably asleep already. He was always the last to go to sleep now.

Facing forward again, he sat further down into the chair, attempting to find a more comfortable position. As if by the very design of destiny, his eyes landed on his earbuds sitting on the edge of the coffee table, the recessed lighting above seeming to shine directly onto, making it glow as if it were a vital item in a role-playing game that was required to finish a critical quest. He acquired them from the table and put them in his ears, connected them to his phone, then unmuted the video already in progress, swallowing hard even though his mouth had gone dry long ago.

A video of her shirtless and straddling his lap, a halo of Christmas lights atop his head, bathing them both in multi-colored light.