sakshikim

[sakshikim]

Whisper of obsession

A/N:To all my lovely readers, thank you for being here! This month is a bit hectic for me as I have exams coming up, so please understand if updates are a little slower. Your encouragement means the world, and if you're enjoying the story, even a quick comment makes a huge difference and truly inspires me to keep writing

Chapter:9

Jungkook hovers over you, his eyes locked onto yours. His hand comes up to trace your jaw, and you can feel the roughness of his thumb against your skin. He leans closer, and you know he's about to kiss you. You're torn between the desire to feel his lips against yours and the fear of what this means for your heart.

Summoning all your courage, you place your hand between Jungkook's face and yours, your fingers pressing gently against his full lips. "Wait," you murmur, your voice trembling slightly. Jungkook's smile falters, his eyes searching yours for an explanation.

"What's wrong, babe?" He asks, his voice tinged with irritation. You can see the confusion in his gaze, the question of why you would stop him from something you've agreed to just moments before.

You take a deep breath, your heart racing as you gather the words to explain. "I'm not ready," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm really scared of this."

Jungkook's expression shifts from confusion to something darker, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What do you mean?" He asks, his voice low and tight.

You sit up, pushing the blankets away from your body. "I want to take things slowly," you say, your voice stronger now. "I don't want to rush into anything."

He stares at you for a moment, his jaw clenching. "You're scared of me?" He says, his voice laced with disbelief.

You shake your head. "No," you say quickly. "It's just that...I've never been in a relationship before."

"Oh, but where did your boldness go?" Jungkook's voice was low and mocking, his eyes searching yours for the courage you had shown earlier. "You were so sure of yourself earlier, telling me you could handle me."

You blush, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. "I didn't mean it like that," you stutter.

Jungkook's smile turns into a smirk. "Oh, I know what you meant," he says, his eyes gleaming. "But don't worry, I wasn't planning on going that far tonight. I don't have any protection with me."

You feel a surge of relief, your body relaxing slightly under his gaze. "Good," you murmur, your voice still shaky.

Jungkook leans in closer, his breath hot on your face. "So, you haven't kissed anyone yet?" His voice is a low whisper, a hint of challenge in his tone.

You nod, your cheeks flushing as you remember that rooftop kiss with Taehyung. It feels like a lifetime ago, a stolen moment in the chaos that has become your life. "Yes," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Then let me be the first to taste your sweetness," Jungkook says, his eyes never leaving yours. Before you can respond, his lips are on yours, and you're lost in the sensation. His kiss is gentle at first, exploratory, as if he's savoring the moment. You can feel his hand sliding up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

Without breaking the kiss, Jungkook whispers, "Kiss me back." His tongue darts out, brushing against your lips. You hesitate for a fraction of a second before parting your mouth and letting him in. His tongue meets yours, and the kiss deepens, becoming more passionate. You follow his lead, feeling the heat build between you, his other hand resting on the small of your back, pulling you closer.

As your kisses become more fervent, you feel his saliva mingle with yours, a strange intimacy that sends a thrill through your body. It's a sensation you're not used to, and it makes you feel vulnerable, but also alive in a way you haven't felt before. Jungkook's mouth moves with expertise, his teeth gently grazing your bottom lip, causing a small moan to escape from you.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "You're so responsive," he murmurs, his thumb brushing against your swollen lip. "It's intoxicating."

You gasp for breath, your heart racing. "Why do you bite my lip?" you ask, your voice trembling slightly.

Jungkook chuckles, his eyes gleaming. "It's just a little taste of what's to come," he says, his voice a dark promise.

Before you can respond, you feel a sudden surge of anger, a fiery determination to take control of the situation. You lean in and bite his bottom lip gently, surprising both of you. He pulls back with a hiss, his eyes wide with shock.

"What was that?" He asks, his voice a mix of surprise and arousal.

"Payback," you murmur, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. You lean back, watching his reaction with a newfound sense of confidence. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm really tired," you say, pushing him away gently.

Jungkook's eyes narrow, and he sits back on the bed, his arms folded over his chest. "You're playing with fire,babe," he says, his tone low and warning.

You bite your lip, trying to maintain your composure. "I'm not playing anything," you reply, your voice steady. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "You're something else," he says, his eyes gleaming. Jungkook starts to unbutton his shirt, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Jungkook, what are you doing?" you ask, your voice laced with a hint of panic.

He glances over at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just getting comfortable," he says, his voice a low rumble as he shrugs out of his shirt, revealing the defined muscles of his chest and abs.

You swivel around, your back facing him as you pretend to busy yourself with the bedcovers. "Could you put that back on, please?" you ask, your voice strained.

Jungkook laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Why, babe?" He teases, his voice closer now. "Are you afraid you won't be able to keep your hands off me?"

"Nonsense," you reply, feeling your cheeks flush.

Jungkook's smile turns into a smirk as he watches your reaction. "Don't worry," he says, his voice low and soothing. "We're just going to sleep."

You nod, trying to ignore the racing of your heart as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you. His bare chest feels warm and firm against your back, and his breathing is steady and comforting.

As he lays down, pulling you with him, you feel your body mold to his. His arms tighten around you, and you can feel his heart beating in time with yours. Despite the situation, a sense of comfort washes over you, and you close your eyes, letting the sound of his breathing lull you into a state of semi-sleep.

The next morning, your phone's obnoxious alarm jolts you awake. You blink groggily, realizing that you're still in Jungkook's embrace. You start to panic, trying to remember the events of the previous night. The kiss, his closeness, the way he held you - it all comes rushing back. Jungkook stirs slightly, his grip loosening as he sleeps on, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

You carefully extricate yourself from his arms, your heart racing as you sit up in bed. The room is bathed in soft early morning light, and the aroma of rain hangs in the air. The memory of your conversation with Jimin the night before floats through your mind, his words about living without regrets resonating deeply. You sigh, knowing that your decision to be with Jungkook is a direct response to that conversation.

With a renewed sense of purpose, you slip out of bed and head to the kitchen, the cold floor tiles a stark contrast to the warmth of Jungkook's embrace. You decide to make chocolate for Jimin, a small gesture to thank him for his understanding and friendship. I

As you gather the ingredients for the chocolate, you can't help but smile at the thought of Jimin's face when he tastes it. He loves sweet things, and you know he'll appreciate the gesture. You melt the chocolate in a double boiler, the rich scent filling the room, while you prep breakfast for Jungkook. It's a strange situation, but you're determined to handle it with grace.

In the fridge, you find the perfect ingredients for a hearty breakfast – eggs, cheese, and bacon. You crack the eggs into a pan, the sizzle of the bacon a comforting sound that grounds you. As you cook, you find yourself lost in thought about the complex web of relationships you've woven around yourself.

The kitchen fills with the scent of cooking food, and Jungkook stumbles in, his hair messy from sleep, his eyes half-closed. He looks adorable, and for a moment, you forget the tension between you all. "What's all this?" He asks, his voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning, Jungkook," you say, turning to smile at him. "I made breakfast."

He saunters over, his bare feet silent on the cold tiles. He wraps his arms around you from behind, his chest pressing against your back as he peers into the pan. "It smells amazing," he murmurs, his breath hot against your neck.

Before you can respond, Jungkook's mouth is on yours, his kiss a gentle peck that sends a shiver down your spine. "Thank you, babe," he whispers, his voice thick with sleep. The tenderness of the moment is a stark contrast to the passion of last night, and you find yourself leaning into him, letting his warmth envelop you.

After breakfast, you both sit on the couch, sipping on coffee. Jungkook's arms are draped casually around you, his thumb tracing circles on your arm. You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, focusing instead on the simple task of putting on your shoes. You've always been a bit clumsy when it came to tying shoelaces, and today seems to be no exception.

With a huff of frustration, you hold up the untied shoe. "I can't believe I wasted money on these," you murmur, frowning at the stubborn laces. "I've never been good at tying shoelaces."

Jungkook's eyes light up with amusement. He takes the shoe from you, his nimble fingers deftly weaving through the laces. "Here," he says, handing it back to you. "Let me show you a trick."

You watch as he takes the other shoe and starts to tie the laces, his movements swift and practiced. "You see?" He says, holding up the finished product. "It's all about the rhythm."

You nod, taking the shoe from him and attempting to mimic his actions. The laces seem to have a mind of their own, refusing to cooperate. Jungkook chuckles, his hand coming up to cover yours. "Let me," he says, taking over. His fingers are surprisingly gentle as he ties the bow, his touch sending a warm tingle up your arm.

When he's done, he looks up at you with a soft smile. "There," he says, his voice low and soothing. "Perfect."

You smile back, your heart racing. "Thank you, Jungkook," you say, your voice a little shaky.

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. "Let's go," he says, standing up and pulling you to your feet. "I have dance practice, and I can drop you off on the way."

You nod, trying to ignore the sudden spike in your heart rate. Jungkook's hand is warm and firm around yours as you navigate through the quiet streets of the early morning. The cool breeze feels refreshing on your flushed cheeks as you walk to the parking lot where his luxurious black sedan waits.

Once inside the car, the silence is thick with unspoken tension. Jungkook's eyes keep flickering to the box in your hand, curiosity etched on his features. "What's that?" He finally asks, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Just food," you reply, trying to keep your voice casual. The lie feels heavy on your tongue, but you don't want to admit that the chocolate is for Jimin.

Jungkook's gaze lingers on the box for a moment before he shrugs, starting the engine. "Alright, if you say so," he says, his tone light, but you can't shake the feeling that he's not fully convinced.

As you arrive at BigHit, the tension in the car is palpable. Jungkook pulls into a parking spot, the engine purring to a stop. He turns to you, his expression serious. "I'll text you later, okay?"

You nod, feeling a sudden lump in your throat. "Yeah, sure," you reply, your voice a little too high. You fumble with the door handle, eager to escape the confines of the car.

As you step into the bustling BigHit offices, you take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. The chaos of the day ahead is a welcome distraction from the tumultuous emotions swirling in your chest. You head straight to your desk, the chocolate safely tucked away in your bag.

A few hours into your workday, you feel a warm hand on your shoulder. You jump, spinning around to find Taehyung standing behind you, his expression inscrutable. "What's wrong with your lips?" He asks, his voice low and concerned.

You blush, your hand flying to your mouth. "What do you mean?" You ask, your voice squeaking with nerves.

He takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "They're swollen," he says, his voice a gentle murmur. "What happened?"

You swallow, feeling your heart race. "I...uh...I bit my lip," you lie, hoping he doesn't notice the tremble in your voice.

Taehyung's gaze lingers on your mouth, his expression unreadable. He reaches out, his thumb brushing gently against your bottom lip. "Does it hurt?" He asks, his voice filled with concern that feels almost intimate.

You shake your head, trying to ignore the way your body responds to his touch. "It's fine," you murmur, taking a step back to put some distance between you.

Taehyung's eyes narrow slightly, and he drops his hand. "My schedule for tomorrow," he says, his voice cold and professional. "What is it?"

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "Tomorrow morning, you have an ad shoot at an amusement park," you reply, focusing on the paperwork in front of you. "It starts at 8 AM sharp."

He nods, his expression unreadable. "Thank you," he says, his voice clipped. "Make sure everything is ready for me."

You nod, trying to keep your breathing steady. "Of course," you reply, your voice professional despite the turmoil inside you.

Taehyung turns to leave, but before he does, his hand shoots out, his thumb brushing against your swollen bottom lip once more. "And take care of your lips," he says, his voice a low murmur. The intensity in his gaze makes you tremble, and you nod again, unable to form coherent words.

After he leaves, you sink into your chair, your heart racing. The tender touch of his thumb lingers on your skin, a stark reminder of the kiss you shared on the rooftop.

Later in the evening, as the office starts to empty, you find yourself unable to focus on the paperwork. Your thoughts keep drifting to Jimin, and the comforting conversation you had shared. With a sudden urge to see him, you ask Minseo, "Do you know where Jimin is?"

Minseo looks up from her computer, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "He's in dance practice," she says. "Do you want me to tell him you're coming?"

You shake your head, deciding that a surprise visit might be better. "No, I'll just go check on him," you reply, trying to sound casual.

With the box of chocolate in hand, you make your way to the dance studios. The sound of music filters through the hallway, the rhythmic thuds of feet against the floor echoing off the walls. You stop outside the door, your heart racing as you listen to the muffled sounds of laughter and conversation.

Taking a deep breath, you push the door open, and the sound of the music washes over you. The room is dimly lit, the floor-to-ceiling windows casting a soft glow across the shiny floor. Jimin is in the center, his body moving with a fluid grace that captivates you. His eyes widen in surprise as he sees you, his smile lighting up the room.

"Y/N!" He calls out, his voice filled with genuine delight. The other dancers and staff members look up, curiosity piqued, before Jimin waves them off. "You can all take a break," he says, his eyes never leaving yours.

The room quickly clears, the sound of their footsteps fading down the hallway. When it's just the two of you, Jimin saunters over, his movements smooth and feline-like. He takes the box from your hands, raising an eyebrow as he opens it to reveal the chocolates inside. "For me?" He asks, his voice filled with mock surprise.

You nod, feeling a bit self-conscious under his scrutiny. "I just wanted to thank you for the talk the other night," you explain, your voice a little shy. "You really helped me see things differently."

Jimin raises an eyebrow, looking both amused and suspicious. "Looking tasty, but how can I believe you didn't mix something weird into this?" His teasing tone makes you laugh nervously, your heart racing a little faster.

You hold out a piece of chocolate, the rich aroma wafting in the air. "Why would I do that?" you ask, your voice squeaking slightly. "I wanted to show my appreciation."

Jimin's eyes glint with mischief as he takes the box from you. "I know," he says, his smile widening. "But I want to make sure it's safe first."

With trembling hands, you take out a piece of chocolate and place it in your mouth, the rich, velvety sweetness coating your tongue. Before you can take a bite, Jimin's hand shoots up, and he gently plucks it from your mouth, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip in the process. The gesture is swift, and your eyes widen in surprise as he takes a bite of the chocolate himself, his gaze never leaving yours.

Your breath hitches as your lips hover a mere centimeter from his, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. Your eyes lock, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. He chews slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, a smug smile playing on his lips.

When he finally swallows, he leans back, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Mm," he says, his voice low and rumbly. "It's delicious."

You blush, your heart racing as you take a step back, breaking the tension. "I'm glad you liked it," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jimin's smile turns into a grin, and he takes a step closer. "Thank you, Y/N," he says, his voice sincere. "But I think you know that's not what I was really thanking you for."

Your face burns, and you drop your gaze to the floor. "I should go now," you mumble, taking another step back. "Bye."

Jimin's smile doesn't waver, but his eyes hold a hint of something deeper. "Okay, see you later," he says, his voice still light.

You nod, your legs feeling like jelly as you turn to leave the dance studio. The hallway is empty, the echo of your footsteps the only sound as you walk away. Your heart is racing, and you can't help but feel the weight of the unspoken words between you.

Nightfall descends as you return to your apartment, the quiet solitude a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions you've experienced today. As you unlock the door, you're met with a scene that's completely foreign to you. The usual cozy mess is replaced with a meticulously organized space, adorned with bouquets of your favorite flowers and an array of new furnishings that scream luxury. Your heart skips a beat, and your hand tightens around the doorknob in shock.

On the table, a small envelope with your name neatly scrawled across the front catches your eye. You cautiously approach, your mind racing with questions. With trembling fingers, you open the note inside. The words "Hope you love it, babe" greet you, the handwriting unmistakably Jungkook's. You look around the transformed room, trying to process the extravagance and effort he must have put into this surprise.

With a sigh, you pull out your phone and dial Jungkook's number. It rings a few times before he answers, his voice filled with excitement. "Hey, did you like it?" He asks, the sound of his voice making your heart flutter despite your confusion.

"Jungkook," you begin, trying to keep the emotion out of your voice. "Why did you do this?" You ask, holding the note in your hand.

"What do you mean?" He asks, his tone playfully innocent. "I just wanted to do something nice for you," he says, the smile evident in his voice.

You sigh, feeling a mix of gratitude and irritation. "It's just...it's too much," you reply, trying to find the right words to express your feelings.

"Too much?" Jungkook's voice holds a hint of defensiveness. "I just wanted to make sure you felt at home," he says, his tone earnest.

You swallow the lump in your throat. "I do appreciate it," you reply, trying to find the balance between gratitude and setting boundaries. "But I don't need all of this."

"I'm busy right now," Jungkook says into the phone, his voice distant. "I'll call you back, okay?"

The line goes dead before you can protest, leaving you standing in the middle of the overwhelmingly changed apartment. You hear the low murmur of voices in the background before the call ends, and you can't shake off the feeling that he might be with the other members of BTS. The realization stings a little, but you quickly push it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

On the other side of the call, Jungkook's eyes darted around the room before he slipped his phone into his pocket. He was with the other members of BTS, huddled together in a soundproof booth, discussing the final tweaks to their upcoming single.

"Alright, let's go over the bridge again," RM said, his voice commanding attention as he tapped his finger against the soundboard. The rest of the group nodded in unison, their eyes focused on the lyrics in front of them.

The door to the booth swung open, and Jimin stumbled in, slightly out of breath. "Sorry, guys," he panted, his cheeks flushed. "I got held up in traffic."

"You're always late," Suga deadpanned without looking up from his notes. Jimin rolled his eyes, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "It's not my fault Seoul's roads are a nightmare."

Jungkook's gaze flickered to the box tucked under Jimin's arm, his heart skipping a beat. It was the same box he had seen Y/N carrying that morning.

"What's that?" He asked, his tone casual despite the storm of emotions brewing within him.

Jimin glanced down, his eyes widening slightly. "Oh, just some chocolates Y/N made for me," he replied, his voice a little too nonchalant.

The room grew quiet, and the tension was palpable. Jungkook's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with questions. Why would she make chocolates for Jimin? What had happened between them?

"You guys okay?" RM asked, noticing the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

"Yeah, I just remembered I have important work to do," Jungkook said, his voice tight. He turned to leave the booth, the tension in his shoulders evident.

"Hold on, what happened to your lip?" Taehyung asked.

Jungkook felt a rush of heat to his face. "It's just a love bite," he mumbled, hoping it was subtle enough to be dismissed.

"Who gives love bites on the lip, Jungkook?"

Jin's voice echoed through the booth, and the room erupted in laughter. Jungkook's hand flew to his mouth, his cheeks burning.

"I said, did you trip and fall into a tub of glue?" J-Hope added, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Jungkook shot him a glare but couldn't hold back his own chuckle. "Very funny, guys," he grumbled, his discomfort clear.

"Or maybe you got a little too friendly with the door handle?" Suga quipped, not looking up from his notes. The room dissolved into snickers.

"Alright, enough," Jungkook said, trying to regain some dignity. "It's nothing."

"If it's nothing, why do you look like you just got caught with your hand in the cookie jar?" J-Hope teased, earning more laughter from the group.

"I said, it's nothing," Jungkook insisted, his voice firm. "Now, can we get back to work?"

RM looked at Jungkook, his gaze thoughtful. "We can discuss this later," he said, gesturing to the song lyrics. "But for now, let's focus on the bridge."

Jungkook nodded, trying to push the thoughts of Y/N and Jimin to the back of his mind. He took his place, the beat of the song pounding in his ears as they practiced.

----

You were sound asleep when the incessant ringing of your doorbell pierced the quiet night, jolting you awake. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you squinted at the clock on your bedside table. 3 AM. Who could possibly be at your door at this hour? Your heart hammered in your chest as you threw off the covers and padded to the door.

Peeking through the peephole, you were surprised to see Jungkook's shadowy form, his hand poised to ring the bell again. Your stomach did a flip as you quickly unlocked the door, pulling it open to reveal him standing in the dim hallway. He looked tense, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made you step back.

"What's going on?" You asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Jungkook pushed past you, his eyes scanning the living room. "Where is it?" He demanded, his voice low and urgent. "The box you had in the morning."

You blinked, trying to follow his train of thought. "What box?" You asked, confused.

Jungkook turned to you, his gaze intense. "The one with the chocolates," he said, his voice tight. "Whom did you give it to?"

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. "It was for Jimin," you admitted, watching his reaction closely. "I owed him a thanks for the talk we had."

Jungkook's eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched. "You gave him chocolates?" He repeated, his voice strained. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

You stepped back, feeling the weight of his accusation. "I didn't think it was a big deal," you protested, your voice rising slightly. "It was just a gesture of appreciation."

"Appreciation?" Jungkook's voice was a low growl. "You call giving chocolates to another man 'appreciation'?" His eyes searched yours, looking for signs of deceit.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your cool. "Yes, I do," you replied firmly. "Jimin is a friend, and he helped me. It's not like I'm hiding it from you."

Jungkook's eyes narrowed. "But you didn't tell me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've been lying to me."

You felt a rush of indignation. "I haven't lied to you," you retorted. "I didn't tell you because it's not your business who I give chocolates to."

"But you're my girlfriend," Jungkook argued, his voice rising slightly. "Everything you do is my business."

You felt your temper flare. "Fine," you snapped, pushing your hair back from your face. "I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Jungkook took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "Babe, do you like stars?" He asked, his voice suddenly gentle.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "What?" You murmured, your voice small.

"Stars," Jungkook repeated, his eyes softening. "Do you like looking at them?"

You nodded slowly, unsure of where this was going. "Yeah," you said, your voice tentative. "They're pretty."

"Then be ready to see the stars," Jungkook whispered, pulling you into his arms with a fierce tenderness that sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you could react, his lips were on yours, hot and demanding. His hands roamed your body with a possessive urgency, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your head to deepen the kiss. You tried to push him away, but your body betrayed you, responding to his touch with a fervor that matched his own.

He backed you up against the wall, his body pressing into yours as the kiss grew more intense. You felt your resolve slipping away, your mind fogging with desire. You knew you should stop this, but every fiber of your being was screaming for more.

Jungkook's hands slid down to your waist, lifting you effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his hips, your core already aching for his touch. You tried to protest, to push him away, but your voice was lost in his mouth. He kissed you like he was trying to claim you, like he was trying to erase any trace of Jimin from your mind.

He broke the kiss, his eyes dark with need. "Let me taste you," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. Before you could react, his mouth was on your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses down to your collarbone. You felt your knees weaken as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin, his hands roaming lower to the apex of your thighs.

With surprising strength, Jungkook pushed you down onto the couch, his body following yours. You felt his hands tug at the hem of your shirt, his mouth moving down to kiss and nip at your exposed skin. Your breathing grew shallow as his lips reached your breasts, his tongue flicking against your hardened nipples.

As Jungkook's mouth moved lower, you couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself up to him. He kissed down your stomach, his eyes never leaving yours. When his mouth reached the waistband of your pants, you tried to stop him, your hand pushing against his head.

"Jungkook, wait," you panted, your voice laced with desire and trepidation.

He didn't listen, his eyes dark with hunger as he unbuttoned your shorts and slid them down, revealing your lacey panties. Your body trembled under his touch, the anticipation almost unbearable.

"Please," you whispered, trying to push him away, but your hips betrayed you, arching towards his seeking mouth. Jungkook looked up, his eyes locked onto yours as he hooked his fingers into the elastic of your underwear and pulled them aside.

His warm breath ghosted over your sensitive flesh, sending a shiver up your spine. You felt his tongue trace a slow, tantalizing path along your slit, the gentle pressure making your knees quiver. "Jungkook, no," you protested weakly, even as your body begged for more.

Ignoring your feeble protests, Jungkook's mouth closed around your clit, his tongue flicking and sucking with a skill that had you seeing stars. You could feel yourself getting wetter with every stroke, your body responding to his touch despite your attempts to resist.

Your nails dug into the couch cushions, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Jungkook's eyes never left yours as he worked you closer to the edge, the intensity of his gaze only adding to the pleasure building inside you. You felt your orgasm approaching, a wave of pleasure that threatened to consume you.

"Jungkook," you moaned, your voice shaking. "I can't... I need..."

But he just hummed against your sensitive flesh, his eyes darkening with satisfaction as your hips began to buck against his face. His tongue delved deeper, his mouth suckling with a fierce hunger that had you gasping for air. The heat from his breath washed over your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

You tried to push him away one last time, your cheeks burning with embarrassment at the thought of him seeing you like this, so exposed and wanton. But your body was beyond caring, beyond thought. It was all sensation, all need. And as Jungkook's tongue swirled and danced, as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin, you felt yourself slipping over the edge.

Your eyes squeezed shut, and your back arched as your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your body convulsing around his mouth. Jungkook held you there, his tongue lapping at you, savoring every last drop of your pleasure. You cried out, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment, your voice raw and needy.

When the tremors finally subsided, Jungkook kissed your inner thigh gently before standing, his eyes never leaving yours. He was still fully dressed, a stark contrast to your barely-there clothing. The sight of him, so composed while you were a writhing mess, only made your face burn hotter.

You quickly grabbed the blanket, wrapping it around yourself and pulling it up to cover your face. Your heart was racing, your body humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, and you felt embarrassment wash over you. This was all so new, so overwhelming. You didn't know how to act, how to feel.

Jungkook chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Babe, you're so cute when you're flustered," he said, reaching out to gently pull the blanket away.

"Jungkook," you protested, your voice muffled by the fabric. "Please, stop."

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with playfulness. "What happened, babe?" He teased, his voice low and coaxing. "Don't tell me you don't like stars anymore?"

You peeked out from behind the blanket, your cheeks flaming. "Jungkook," you admonished, trying to sound firm despite the tremor in your voice. "I said no."

"No?" He feigned innocence, his smile never wavering. "But I thought we had a good time. Didn't you enjoy the little show?" He winked, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"Jungkook, it's not funny," you murmured, still trying to catch your breath.

He leaned in, his nose brushing yours. "I know I'm mean," he whispered, his voice a dark purr that sent a shiver down your spine. "But babe, I'm telling you, this is the last time."

You searched his eyes, looking for some sign of regret or remorse, but all you found was a determination that was both thrilling and terrifying. "What does that mean?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook's smile grew predatory. "It means," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin, "that from now on, you're mine. And I don't share my things with anyone."

You felt a thrill run through you at his words, You didn't know if you should be happy or horrified, but all you could do was nod, your body still humming from the pleasure he had just given you.

Jungkook took your hand, leading you to the bedroom with a gentle tug. He was surprisingly tender, considering the fiery passion he had just displayed. You watched as he removed his shoes and shirt, his muscles rippling in the dim light.

"Babe," he said, turning to you with a tired smile. "Let's get some rest."

You nodded, feeling both relieved and anxious. As you slid into bed beside him, you couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability. He pulled you into his arms, his chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. His warmth was comforting, and the smell of his cologne washed over you, a mix of leather and spices that was uniquely Jungkook.

"Btw, babe," he mumbled against your hair, his voice already thick with sleep. "You taste really sweet."

You felt your cheeks burn, unable to find the words to respond to Jungkook's bluntness. "Pervert," you murmured under your breath, too tired to muster any genuine anger.

Jungkook chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. "What's that?" He asked, his voice lazy and satisfied.

"You heard me," you said, trying to push away from him.

But his arms tightened around you, holding you firmly in place. "What did you call me?" He whispered, his tone playful.

You sighed, your eyes closing as you snuggled deeper into his embrace. "I said you're a pervert," you repeated, your voice muffled by the pillow.

Jungkook's chuckles grew louder, his breath tickling your ear. "Am I?" He asked, his voice low and seductive.

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of annoyance and affection. "Yes, you are," you mumbled.

He kissed the top of your head, his grip on you loosening slightly. "But you like it," he said, his voice smug.

You rolled your eyes, unable to argue with the truth in his words. You did like it, and that was the most confusing part. "Jungkook," you whispered, your voice heavy with sleep. "Please, just sleep."

He chuckled, his arms tightening around you once more. "As you wish," he murmured, his voice dropping into a gentle hum, the sound lulling you into a state of relaxation. You felt his breathing even out, his body growing heavy with slumber.

The room was silent except for the faint sounds of the city outside your window and the steady rhythm of Jungkook's heartbeat against your back. It was comforting in a way you hadn't expected, his warmth enveloping you like a blanket. Despite the tumultuous day, you felt a sense of peace settle over you as you drifted off to sleep in his arms.

To be continued in the next chapter

Masterlist

[sakshikim]

Whispers of obsession

A/N:To all my lovely readers, thank you for being here! This month is a bit hectic for me as I have exams coming up, so please understand if updates are a little slower. Your encouragement means the world, and if you're enjoying the story, even a quick comment makes a huge difference and truly inspires me to keep writing

Chapter :8

morning, the light from the crack in the curtains filters into the darkened hotel suite, illuminating the rumpled bed. Taehyung stirs, his eyes blinking open to the unfamiliar sight of your form curled behind him. Memories of the night's events come flooding back, his mind racing as he recalls the passionate kiss on the rooftop and the way his hands had wandered over your body.

With a start, he sits up, his voice urgent as he whispers, "Y/N, wake up." His hand shakes your shoulder gently.

You blink your eyes open, the reality of where you are and who you're with rushing back to you. The room is still dark, but the soft glow from the digital clock on the bedside table tells you it's early morning. You sit up with a jolt, your heart racing as you realize what's happening.

"You need to go to your room," he says, his voice low and firm. "Before anyone sees you here."

Panic sets in, and you nod, fumbling with the covers as you try to sit up.

"How much did we go last night?" Taehyung's question hung in the air, a stark reminder of the passionate encounter that had left you both breathless. You stared at him, your cheeks flushing as you recalled the intimate moments that had unfolded in the quiet solitude of the hotel suite.

"Did we...?" Taehyung's voice trailed off, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes as he searched yours for the answer.

You shook your head, the gravity of the question making your pulse quicken. "No," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "We didn't."

Relief floods his features, his hand coming up to run through his hair. "Thank God," he says, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing. "I'm sorry for last night, Y/N. I was a little drunk, okay?"

You nod, swallowing the hurt. "It's okay," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's fine. I should go to my room now."

He nods, his gaze dropping to his lap. "Yeah," he says, his voice tight. "You should."

You slip out of bed, the cold air hitting your skin like a slap. You grab your shoes and stand, your legs wobbly from the sudden movement. You avoid looking at him as you make your way to the door, feeling his eyes on you like a heavy weight.

Once outside, you hurry down the hall, your heart racing as if you've just committed a crime. The cool air in your lungs is a stark contrast to the heat of the room you've just left behind. You reach your own suite, the door a sanctuary you crave. You slide the keycard and enter, the door clicking shut behind you with a finality that echoes through the silence.

Leaning against the door, you let out a shaky sigh, trying to control the tears that threaten to spill over. Your hands come up to cover your face, but the dam breaks, and the tears flow regardless. You tell yourself that you knew better, that you should have seen this coming, but the reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks. You forgot. You forgot that you're just the intern, the girl who's supposed to blend into the background.

The next few days pass in a blur as you throw yourself into work, filling every spare moment with tasks and errands for the music video shoot. You keep your distance from Taehyung, focusing on your job and avoiding any situation that might remind him of what happened. It's not easy, not when his presence is a constant reminder of the kiss that still burns on your lips and the feel of his hands on your body. But you manage, somehow. You've always been good at hiding your feelings.

Then, on the last day of shooting, Jimin appears. He's not scheduled to be here, but when he walks onto the set, it's like a bomb has gone off. The energy shifts, and suddenly everyone's aware of him. He strides over to Taehyung, who's in the middle of a scene, and wraps him in a tight hug. "What are you doing here?" Taehyung asks, his voice a mix of surprise .

"Couldn't stay away," Jimin says, a cheeky grin on his face. "I had to come support my best friend." His eyes dart to you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze even from across the room. There's something in his eyes, something that makes your stomach flip. It's like he knows, like he can see right through the wall you've so carefully built around yourself.

Taehyung rolls his eyes but returns the hug with a squeeze. "You're always welcome," he says, his voice tight.

The shooting wraps up with a sense of relief and exhaustion. The crew starts to pack up the equipment, their laughter and chatter filling the once-silent space. The director claps his hands, calling for a wrap party to celebrate the successful end of the music video production. The atmosphere lightens, and you find yourself swept along in the excitement, eager for a night of fun and a chance to let your guard down.

As the party kicks off, the hotel suite is transformed into a mini nightclub. The lights dim, and the music pulses through the air. You mingle with the crew, accepting a glass of champagne and sipping it to calm your nerves. Taehyung is at the center of the room, surrounded by people, his laughter carrying over the music. You watch him from a distance, feeling a strange mix of fondness and pain.

Needing a break, you slip out to the hotel's rooftop park, the cool night breeze a welcome relief from the stifling heat of the party. You find a bench in the shadows, the soft glow of the city lights the only company. You sit, taking a deep breath, trying to sort through the tumult of emotions. The quiet is a stark contrast to the chaos inside, offering a small slice of peace.

As you sit there, lost in thought, you feel a presence beside you. You look up to find Jimin sitting down, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He's holding a bottle of water, which he twists open before taking a swig. "Couldn't take the noise?" he asks, his voice a gentle rumble.

You nod, taking a shaky breath. "Yeah," you say, your voice small.

Jimin's smile fades, and he sets the bottle down. "You okay?" he asks, his eyes searching your face.

You shrug, trying to keep your emotions in check. "Just tired," you lie, not quite meeting his gaze. "It's been a long week."

"It has," he agrees, his voice gentle. He stays silent for a moment, the music from the party a distant throb. Then, "You know, I'm a good listener."

Your heart skips a beat, and you look up at him in surprise. He's watching you intently, his gaze sincere.

"Jimin," you start, your voice cracking. "I always believed in the fairy-tale love, you know? Like in the K-dramas, where soulmates find each other in the most unexpected ways." You laugh, but it sounds hollow even to your own ears. "I thought I'd find that kind of love, too. The kind where we'd run through the rain holding hands, dance in the street, eat ramen together, share everything."

Rain starts to fall suddenly, the droplets cool against your flushed skin. You laugh, the sound a little too loud in the quiet night air. "Looks like the universe is giving me a sign to give up my imagination," you say, the words tinged with bitterness. The rain picks up speed, soaking through your clothes as you stand there, feeling the weight of your unspoken confessions.

Jimin looks at you, his eyes filled with understanding. "You know, Y/N," he says softly, "you don't have to hide your feelings. Sometimes, letting it all out can be a relief." He hands you a tissue, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek as he does so. "You can cry if you need to."

The first tear slips down your cheek, a silent confession of all the pain you've been carrying around. Before you know it, the dam breaks and you're sobbing, your shoulders shaking with the force of your tears. The rain is like a curtain around you, hiding your vulnerability from the world.

Finally, the rain stops, the sudden silence leaving a ringing in your ears. Jimin looks at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "If I catch cold because of this rain, Y/N, you'll be responsible," he says, his voice teasing.

You laugh through your sniffles, wiping at your face. "Hey," you protest weakly, "who told you to get wet in the rain?"

Jimin smirks, looking down at your chest. "Nice color," he says, his voice low. You follow his gaze, realizing that your shirt has gone translucent with the rain, your bra clearly visible. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you hastily cross your arms over your chest.

" Y/N don't be shy, " Jimin says, his voice a comforting murmur as he takes in your embarrassed state. "I've seen you without clothes before, remember?"

You blush even deeper, the memory of that fateful night at the club rushing back to you. But before you can respond, he surprises you by shrugging out of his jacket, revealing the tight tank top underneath. He drapes it around your shoulders, the fabric warm from his body. "Here," he says, his eyes twinkling. "You're shivering."

You wrap the jacket around yourself, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the scent of rain. "Thanks," you murmur, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the jacket spread through you.

Jimin pulls you closer to him, his arm around your shoulder. "Babygirl," he says, his voice low and soothing. "This life, it's not a fairy tale. So, stop running after something that's going to hurt you." His eyes are sincere, and his gaze holds yours. "Let your desires meet your needs," he whispers. "Trust me, if you don't enjoy your youth, you're going to regret it."

Before you can respond, the sharp ring of his phone pierces the quiet night. He sighs, reaching into his pocket to silence it, but then looks at the screen with a frown. "I have to go," he says, standing up and pulling you to your feet. "But remember what I said." He gives you a gentle push towards the hotel room door.

The warmth of his arm is gone, leaving you feeling cold and exposed. You nod, your mind racing with questions and emotions. "Okay," you murmur, your voice barely audible. "Thank you for the talk... and the jacket."

Jimin smiles, the light from the city below glinting in his eyes. "Anytime," he says, before disappearing into the night.

You make your way back to your room, the words playing on repeat in your head. "Let your desires meet your needs," he had said. But what did that mean, exactly? Was he hinting at something more?

The next morning, you pack your bags, eager to get back to Seoul and leave the confusion of the trip behind. The flight is quiet, the only sound the hum of the engines as you try to organize your thoughts. Taehyung sits a few rows ahead with jimin , engrossed in his work, and you're grateful for the space. You've managed to avoid him since that night, and it's easier to pretend nothing happened when he's not right beside you.

As you arrive at BigHit, the familiar sights and sounds of the office grounds you. You slip back into your role as Taehyung's assistant, handling his schedule and appointments with a newfound sense of determination. You're more professional than ever, keeping your interactions with him brief and to the point.

But avoiding Taehyung isn't as easy as you'd hope. He's everywhere, his presence a constant reminder of the unspoken tension between you. You catch glimpses of him in the hallways, his eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second before he looks away.

You're in the middle of scheduling Taehyung's upcoming photoshoot when Jungkook saunters into your cabin. "Hi, kitty," he says, his voice a smooth purr that sends a shiver down your spine. You look up, your heart skipping a beat. "Long time no see," he adds, his grin widening as he takes in your flustered state.

You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. "Jungkook," you say, forcing a smile. "What brings you here?"

He leans against the desk, his gaze intense. "I just want to see your face," he murmurs, his smile dark and unsettling. "You really have guts, ignoring my call and then blocking me."

Your heart races as you swivel your chair to face him, your voice shaky. "What?" You ask, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. Jungkook had been relentless during the trip to the U.S., his calls interrupting your work and your moments of peace. In the end, you had no choice but to block his number to maintain your sanity.

Jungkook's eyes narrow at your feigned ignorance. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "But that's not important right now." He leans closer, his hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You flinch at the sudden touch, your skin crawling. "What's important," he continues, "is that you remember who you're playing with."

You nod, your mouth dry. "I'm sorry," you repeat, your voice trembling. Jungkook's eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, you think you've said the wrong thing. But then, he laughs, a cruel sound that sends chills down your spine.

"Huh?" he says, his tone mocking. "You're sorry? That was quicker than I thought you'd admit it."

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but you force yourself to meet his gaze. "Jungkook," you say, your voice stronger this time. "Can I ask you something?"

He leans in closer, his hand still in your hair. "Anything, kitty," he says, his breath hot on your neck.

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. "Why did you ask me that day to be your girlfriend?"

Jungkook's smile widens, and he pulls his hand away, his fingers lingering on your skin. "I find interesting things on you," he says, his voice low and teasing. "Things that I love."

You swallow hard, your heart racing. "What are those things?" You ask, your voice a whisper.

He leans in closer, his breath tickling your ear. "Your innocence," he murmurs. "Your kindness. And the way you blush when you're nervous." He laughs, a sound that sends a chill down your spine. "But most of all," he says, "I love that you're off-limits to everyone else."

You don't respond immediately, your mind racing to process his words. Jungkook's expression morphs from amusement to confusion, his eyebrows drawing together. "What's wrong, kitty?" he asks, his voice taking on a softer tone. "Did you change your mind?"

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you're about to say. "Jungkook," you say, your voice surprisingly firm. "I'm ready to be your girlfriend."

"Huh?" Jungkook's expression is one of genuine surprise, his smugness replaced with a look of confusion. "You're ready to be my girlfriend?"

You nod, trying to ignore the way your heart is pounding in your chest. "Yes," you reply, your voice strong and steady despite the turmoil of emotions within you.

Jungkook's eyes narrow, his smile fading into a straight line. "Well, that's too bad for you," he says, his voice cold. "I'm not interested anymore."

You stand your ground, feeling a strange sense of power in this moment. "Why can't you handle me?" you repeat, your voice a little shakier than you'd like, but with a newfound determination that surprises even you.

Jungkook's smile turns into a sneer. "You're playing a dangerous game," he warns, his eyes darkening. "You don't know what you're getting into."

You hold his gaze, your voice firm. "I know exactly what I'm doing," you reply.

Jungkook's smirk turns into a full-blown grin. "Oh, you think so?" He takes a step closer to you, his eyes gleaming with challenge. "Well, let's see how long you can handle me, then."

You stand your ground, your heart hammering in your chest. "I'm not afraid of you," you say firmly, hoping the tremor in your voice isn't noticeable. "And please, stop calling me 'kitty'."

Jungkook chuckles, leaning back against the desk. "How about 'babe'?" he suggests, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"I'd prefer 'Y/N'," you reply, keeping your voice even. His smile falters for a brief moment, but then he shrugs it off, his confidence unshaken.

"Babe it is, then," he says, pulling you closer. His arms wrap around your waist, and your breath catches in your throat as his mouth hovers near your ear. "But remember, I'm a possessive guy. I don't like sharing."

"Yeah, yeah," you repeat, your voice firm as you pull away from Jungkook's embrace. You can feel the tension in the air thicken, but you stand your ground. "I understand," you add, taking a step back, putting more distance between you.

Jungkook's smile doesn't waver, but there's a glint in his eye that tells you he's not quite convinced. "Good," he says, his voice smooth as silk. "Because I don't want any misunderstandings."

You nod, your heart racing. "Yeah, yeah," you say, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to focus on my job."

He raises an eyebrow, the challenge in his gaze unmistakable. "Is that what you really want, babe?" He leans closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Or do you want to play some more?"

You push him away, the fear momentarily giving way to anger. "I have to get back to work," you say, your voice firm. "And so do you."

Jungkook laughs, a deep, rumbling sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Alright, I'll let you go," he says, his eyes gleaming. "But don't forget, you're mine now."

You watch him saunter out of the room, his confidence unshaken. As the door clicks shut behind him, you let out a sigh of relief, your legs wobbling slightly. You sit back down at your desk, trying to compose yourself. But Jungkook's words echo in your head, a constant reminder of the precarious situation you've found yourself in.

That evening, as you lay in bed, you can't help but replay the conversation in your mind. Did you make the right choice? Accepting Jungkook's advances when your heart still yearned for Taehyung felt like a betrayal. Yet, Jungkook had been clear about his intentions - a relationship based on convenience, not love. Was it wrong to give in to the attraction when you knew it wasn't what you truly desired?

You take a deep breath, willing the guilt to dissipate. Jungkook didn't love you, and you had to stop expecting fairy-tale romance from a world that wasn't one. You've seen the harsh reality behind the glitz and glamour of the K-pop industry. Love wasn't always pure, and sometimes people settled for what was available.

You sit up in bed, the soft glow of your lamp casting a warm light on your surroundings. You grab your journal, the one you've had since you were a young girl scribbling down your crushes and dreams. You write, trying to convince yourself that this is just a phase, a way to distract your heart from the pain Taehyung's coldness had brought.

"Y/N, stop feeling guilty," you murmur to yourself. "Jungkook doesn't love me. This relationship is just to distract my heart and satisfy our bodily needs. It's a deal, a mutual agreement to enjoy life without the complications of love."

You repeat the words like a mantra, hoping they'll stick. It's not love that binds you to Jungkook; it's the thrill of being with someone who makes your pulse race, even if it's not in the way you've always dreamed. You know this isn't the ideal, but maybe it's enough.

With a sigh, you close your journal and head to the kitchen. Cooking has always been your solace, a way to clear your mind and create something comforting amidst the chaos. As you start to chop vegetables for a late-night stir-fry, you don't even notice the time slipping away. The rhythmic sound of your knife against the cutting board and the sizzle of the hot pan fill the quiet apartment.

The sudden ring of the doorbell jolts you out of your cooking trance. You wipe your hands on your apron and make your way to the door, peeking through the peephole. Your heart skips a beat when you see Jungkook's smiling face on the other side. You hadn't expected him to come over tonight, especially not at this hour. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart, and swing the door open.

"Jungkook, what are you doing here?" you ask, your voice a mix of surprise .

"Couldn't stay away from my babe," he says with a smug smile, pushing past you to enter your apartment without invitation.

"You know, you can't just come into someone's house like this," you protest, your hand on your hip.

He turns to face you, his smile not fading. "What type of attitude is that, babe?" He says, his voice playful but with a hint of challenge. "Don't forget, I'm your boyfriend now."

"I didn't say you couldn't come over," you reply, trying to keep your voice even despite the racing of your heart. "I just didn't expect you so late."

Jungkook shrugs off his jacket, tossing it onto the couch. "Well, I'm here now," he says, his eyes traveling over your apartment with a possessive air. "And I've decided to stay the night."

You blink at him, your heart racing. "Jungkook, I don't think that's a good idea," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "I have work tomorrow."

He strides over to you, his arms wrapping around your waist. "Don't worry about it, babe," he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. "I'll make sure you're well-rested."

You swallow hard, his closeness making it difficult to think straight. "Jungkook, my apartment is really small, and I only have one bed," you say, your voice a mix of nerves and determination.

He chuckles, his eyes darkening with desire. "I don't mind," he whispers, his mouth dangerously close to yours. "We can share."

Your heart races as you try to think of a way to change the subject. "I'm making stir-fry," you say, pushing him away gently. "I hope you're okay with that."

"Sounds yummy," Jungkook says, his eyes lighting up as he walks over to the kitchen. You serve dinner at the small table, watching as he sits down and starts to eat. His enthusiasm is palpable, but it's his expression that catches your attention.

As you sit across from him, you can't help but laugh a little. Jungkook looks up at you, a mouthful of food. "What's so funny?" he asks, his voice muffled by the food.

You swallow your laughter, trying to explain. "It's just...normal people look happy when they love food," you say, smiling. "But when you eat something you like, you look...angry."

Jungkook pauses, a piece of noodle dangling from his mouth. He looks genuinely confused. "Angry?"

"Yeah," you say, "like you're about to fight someone for the last bite."

This time he laughs, a real, full-bodied laugh that fills the small kitchen. "Well, I guess that's one way to look at it," he says, chewing and swallowing before speaking again. "But you're wrong, Y/N. I'm not angry. That's just how I look when I really, really like something."

You blush at his words, and Jungkook's smile widens. He leans back in his chair, watching you closely as you take a sip of water. "You know," he says, his voice dropping to a lower octave, "I can be pretty intense when I really, really like something...or someone."

Your eyes meet his, and you feel your stomach flip. "Okay, okay," you murmur, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice.

After dinner, Jungkook stands up from the table, his movements swift and decisive. "Let's sleep now," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

"But it's still early," you protest, your heart racing as you stand up to face him. "I thought we could watch a movie or something."

He takes a step closer, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I have a better idea," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "How about we play a game?"

Your stomach twists into knots as you realize what he's suggesting. "What kind of game?" You ask, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Jungkook's smile turns into a smirk as he takes another step closer. "The kind of game that ends with you screaming my name," he murmurs, his eyes dark with desire.

You gulp, your cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. Before you can protest, he scoops you up into his arms, your heart racing as he carries you towards your bedroom. "Jungkook, wait," you try to say, but the words come out as a breathless whisper.

He doesn't stop, his steps sure and purposeful. You can feel the heat from his body against yours, and your heart is hammering so loudly you're sure he can hear it. When he lays you down on the bed, you know there's no turning back.

Jungkook hovers over you, his eyes locked onto yours. His hand comes up to trace your jaw, and you can feel the roughness of his thumb against your skin. He leans closer, and you know he's about to kiss you. You're torn between the desire to feel his lips against yours and the fear of what this means for your heart.

You blush at his words, and Jungkook's smile widens. He leans back in his chair, watching you closely as you take a sip of water. "You know," he says, his voice dropping to a lower octave, "I can be pretty intense when I really, really like something...or someone."

Your eyes meet his, and you feel your stomach flip. "Okay, okay," you murmur, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice.

After dinner, Jungkook stands up from the table, his movements swift and decisive. "Let's sleep now," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

"But it's still early," you protest, your heart racing as you stand up to face him. "I thought we could watch a movie or something."

He takes a step closer, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I have a better idea," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "How about we play a game?"

To be continued in the next chapter....

Masterlist

[sakshikim]

Whispers of obsession

Chapter : 7

The next day at the airport, you find yourself boarding a sleek, private jet for the first time. The luxurious interior is a stark contrast to the bustling chaos outside. You've never been on anything fancier than a commercial flight, and the unreality of the situation sends a shiver down your spine. As you step onto the plane, the plush carpet cushions your every step, and the smell of leather and expensive cologne fills the cabin.

Taehyung strides in after you, looking like a king surveying his domain. His eyes sweep over you, and you feel a flutter in your stomach as he nods in approval. "You're dressed well," he comments, his voice a low purr that seems to resonate through the plane.

You blush, self-consciously smoothing your blouse. You'd chosen your outfit carefully: a simple, yet elegant blouse paired with tailored slacks. It was the most professional yet comfortable attire you owned, something that screamed 'competent personal assistant' and not 'starstruck fan'.

In the private jet, you sit across from Taehyung, trying not to be too obvious as you steal glances at him. He's lost in his thoughts, scrolling through his phone, his thumbs dancing over the screen with a grace that speaks of hours of practice. His features are sharp and focused, and you can't help but admire the way the light plays off his hair, the shadows highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw.

You catch his eyes flicking up to meet yours, and your heart skips a beat. He raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Is there something on my face?" he asks, his voice a teasing rumble.

You shake your head, feeling the heat spread up your neck and into your cheeks. "N-no," you stutter, looking away quickly. "I was just... thinking."

Taehyung hums in response, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before returning to his phone.

The flight is long, and you spend most of it trying not to stare at Taehyung. It's a battle of wills that you're slowly losing. Every time you catch yourself looking at him, you quickly avert your eyes, only to find them drawn back to his handsome profile moments later. His focus is unwavering, whether he's reading a script or responding to emails, and it's a stark reminder of the professional line you're trying to maintain.

As the plane descends into the sprawling metropolis of Los Angeles, the excitement bubbles up inside you. You've never been to the US before, and the glitz and glamour of the city of angels is like nothing you've ever seen. The hotel is a towering skyscraper, its windows gleaming in the sunlight. When the car pulls up, you're struck by the grandeur of it all. It's nothing like the modest accommodations you've seen in Korean dramas. This is the kind of hotel celebrities stay in, and you can't believe you're actually going to be one of them, even if only for a short while.

You follow Taehyung's manager to your room, your heart racing with every step. When the door swings open, you're greeted with a sight that takes your breath away. The room is massive, with plush carpets that swallow your footsteps and walls adorned with abstract art that probably cost more than your entire apartment back home.

After a quick shower, you slide into the crisp, hotel-provided pajamas, feeling the softness of the fabric against your skin. The exhaustion of the day starts to catch up with you, and you crawl into the king-sized bed, feeling like you're floating on a cloud. But just as you're about to drift off, the sound of the room's doorbell pierces the silence.

With a sigh, you pull yourself out of the warm embrace of the comforter and pad over to the door, your bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. You peek through the peephole, and your heart does a somersault when you see Taehyung's handsome face on the other side. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing pulse, before opening the door.

"Taehyung," you murmur, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice. "What are you doing here?"

He leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "I thought we could have a little chat," he says, his eyes glinting with mischief. "On the rooftop."

You blink, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "The rooftop?" you repeat, your voice a little too high. "Now?"

Taehyung nods, pushing off the frame. "Now," he confirms, his eyes holding yours. "Don't worry, I promise to keep it short. I know you're tired."

With a deep breath, you nod, slipping into your shoes and grabbing your phone. The elevator ride up to the rooftop is silent, the tension between you palpable. When the doors slide open, the cool evening air rushes in, carrying the scent of the city with it.

The rooftop is a stunning oasis, a stark contrast to the chaos of the streets below. The lights of the city twinkle like stars against the inky sky, and the gentle hum of distant traffic is the only sound to break the silence. You follow Taehyung to the edge, the wind playing with your hair as he leans against the railing.

"So," he says, his voice a gentle prompt, "tell me more about you, Y/N."

You hesitate, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you try to gather your thoughts. You've been so wrapped up in the whirlwind of emotions that come with being around your idols that you realize you've hardly talked about yourself. "Where should I start?"

Taehyung's eyes, a deep shade of brown that seem to hold the secrets of the universe, focus intently on you. "Anything," he says, his voice a gentle coax. "Your favorite color, what you like to do in your free time, the last book you read... anything at all."

You swallow, feeling the weight of his gaze. It's strange, sharing these little pieces of yourself with someone you've idolized for so long. "My favorite color is yellow," you begin, your voice tentative. "And I like to read, mostly romance novels and manga. And I... I love to cook." You laugh a little, feeling self-conscious. "It's nothing special, I know."

But Taehyung doesn't laugh, his expression serious as he takes in every word. "Why do you say that?" he asks, his voice a gentle rumble. "Everyone has their own talents and interests. It's what makes you special."

You blush, feeling his gaze like a warm caress. "Thank you," you murmur, looking down at your hands. "It's just... I've never talked to you about this before."

"Well, we're getting to know each other now," Taehyung says, his voice a soft encouragement. "I want to know everything about you, Y/N."

The conversation flows easily after that, a gentle dance of shared stories and laughter. You find yourself opening up to him, telling him about your family, your friends, the little moments that make up your life. And as you talk, you can't help but admire the way the moonlight plays off his features, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips. His eyes never leave yours, and you find yourself lost in the depths of his gaze.

You're not sure when it happens, but at some point, the space between you seems to shrink. You're standing closer now, your fingers brushing against his as you gesture while you speak. His eyes are focused on you, a soft smile playing on his lips that makes your heart race. When he laughs, it's like the sound of a melody that you want to get lost in forever.

Taehyung reaches out, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The touch is so gentle, so tender, that it takes your breath away. "You're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice a soft caress that sends a shiver down your spine.

You look up at him, your eyes wide and searching, your heart hammering in your chest. You know you should say something, do something, but you're frozen in place, caught in the intensity of his gaze.

"It's late," he says finally, his voice a gentle reminder of reality. "We should get some rest." He glances down at his watch, the silver band glinting in the moonlight. "We have a long day tomorrow."

You nod, your heart feeling both heavy and light at the same time. You know he's right, but you don't want the moment to end. "Yeah," you murmur, your voice a little sad. "We should go."

Taehyung's hand drops away, and you feel the loss of his touch like a cool breeze. He opens the door for you, his eyes never leaving yours as you step into the elevator. The ride down feels much shorter than the one up, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

When you reach your room, you hover in the doorway, unsure of what to say. "Thank you," you murmur, your cheeks still flushed from the conversation.

Taehyung's smile is gentle, his eyes warm. "Of course," he says, his voice a soft rumble. "Good night, Y/N."

With a nod, you slip back into your room, the door clicking shut behind you. Your heart is racing, your cheeks still flushed from the cold night air and the warmth of his gaze. You lean against the door for a moment, trying to catch your breath, the memory of his touch still tingling on your skin. You can't stop smiling as you walk over to the bed, the plush comforter whispering sweet nothings of comfort and rest.

As you crawl into bed, your mind races with the events of the night. The way his thumb traced your cheek, the gentle pressure of his hand at the small of your back, the sound of his laughter echoing in your ears. It's like a dream, one you're afraid to wake up from. You know that tomorrow is going to be busy, filled with work and the chaos of a music video shoot, but right now, in the quiet of the night, all you can think about is Taehyung.

The next day, you wake up early, the excitement of the day ahead buzzing through your veins. You quickly get ready, your mind racing with the to-do list for Taehyung's big day. As you enter the set, the energy is palpable, a mix of excitement and nerves. The crew bustles around, setting up lights and cameras, while Taehyung sits in a chair, his eyes closed, lost in thought.

You approach him, a steaming cup of tea in hand, knowing his distaste for coffee. "Here," you say softly, placing it on the table beside him. "You're going to need this." He opens his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips as he takes the cup. "Thanks," he murmurs, his eyes meeting yours.

The music video starts, and Taehyung is pulled into the whirlwind of lights, cameras, and action. You watch from the sidelines, your heart in your throat as the beautiful actress takes her place opposite him. She's everything you're not: confident, outgoing, and completely at ease in the spotlight. As the cameras roll, she laughs and flirts with ease, her eyes sparkling as they lock with Taehyung's. It's like watching a scene from a romantic comedy unfold before your very eyes, and you can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

You remind yourself that you're just his personal assistant, here to ensure everything runs smoothly and cater to his every need. You force a smile as you hand him water between takes, making sure he's comfortable and focused. But every time he smiles at her, every time he whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh, it feels like a dagger to your heart.

As the day progresses, you find yourself retreating into the background, trying to keep busy with paperwork and last-minute errands. You can't help but watch them from the corner of your eye, the way they interact so naturally, their chemistry on-screen palpable. It's like watching a real-life love story unfold, and you're just a bystander with a backstage pass.

The director calls for a break, and Taehyung heads your way, sweat glistening on his forehead. You hand him a towel, and he takes it with a nod of thanks, his eyes briefly meeting yours before looking away. You can feel the distance growing between you, and it's like a knot in your stomach, tightening with every passing moment.

"Is there anything else you need?" you ask, keeping your voice professional despite the tumult of emotions inside you.

Taehyung glances at you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "No, I'm good," he says, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. You can tell he's preoccupied with the shoot, with the pressure of performing and the cameras that seem to follow his every move.

You nod, taking a step back, feeling the distance between you like a physical barrier. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of the boundaries of your relationship. "Okay," you say, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. "I'll be around if you need anything."

The rest of the day passes in a blur of activity. You run errands, organize schedules, and make sure everyone has what they need. But all the while, you can't shake the feeling of being an outsider looking in on Taehyung's world.

As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky with shades of pink and orange, the director calls a wrap. The set erupts in a flurry of activity as people begin to pack up, their energy drained. Yet, Taehyung remains in the center of it all, surrounded by the glow of the lights, deep in conversation with the lead actress. Her laughter rings out, and you can't help but feel a sting of something sharp and painful. You remind yourself that he's just your boss, that you're just his personal assistant, and that's all you can ever be.

Taking a deep breath, you straighten your shoulders and push aside your feelings. You have work to do. You start to gather up his things, his script, water bottles, and the countless other items that have accumulated around him throughout the day.

As the set quiets down and the last of the crew filters out, Taehyung finally breaks away from the group, his eyes finding yours. "Ready to go?" he asks, his voice a little softer than before.

You nod, forcing a smile. "Yeah, let's go."

The car ride back to the hotel is quiet, the weight of the day's events pressing down on the both of you. You sit in the back, going over the itinerary for tomorrow, while Taehyung stares out the window, lost in his own thoughts.

When you arrive at the hotel, you retreat to your room to freshen up. You change into comfortable clothes: a loose sweater that hugs your body in all the right places and a pair of skinny jeans. You take a moment to check your reflection in the mirror, smoothing down your hair and applying a light coat of lip balm.

You make your way downstairs, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses guiding you to the dinner party. The room is bustling with the staff and crew of the music video, their faces familiar from the long day on set. The air is warm and fragrant with the smell of various dishes being served from the buffet table. Taehyung is standing near the bar, deep in conversation with the lead actress.

Ignoring the ache in your chest, you force a smile and start mingling with the other staff members, asking about their roles and how they ended up in the industry. The conversation flows easily, the excitement of being part of such a big project a common thread that ties everyone together. You find yourself laughing at their anecdotes, sharing stories from your own experience at BigHit.

But every few minutes, your gaze is drawn back to Taehyung, his presence a magnetic force that you can't ignore. You watch as he laughs with the actors, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he whispers something into the lead actress's ear. She giggles, leaning into him, and you can't help but feel a twinge of something bitter. You know you don't belong in this glamorous world of stars and spotlights, not really. You're just a girl from a small town, thrown into the deep end of the pool, trying to keep up with the current.

But even amidst the turmoil of emotions, you find yourself smiling as you watch Taehyung. He's in his element here, the charming prince everyone adores. And as much as it hurts to see him with her, you can't help but feel happy for him. After all, he deserves to be happy, and if that means sharing his smiles with someone else, then so be it.

The night stretches on, and eventually, the party starts to wind down. People begin to drift away to their own hotel rooms, the energy of the evening slowly dissipating.

You decide to take a breather, stepping out onto the rooftop to escape the noise and the glaring lights. The night air is cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the stuffy warmth of the party inside. The city lights are like a sea of stars below, twinkling in a pattern that seems almost too perfect. You lean against the railing, letting the quiet wash over you.

Just as you're about to lose yourself in the tranquility of the view, you hear a familiar voice. "Y/N?" Taehyung calls out, his footsteps echoing on the rooftop.

You turn around, surprised to see him there. "Taehyung," you say, trying to keep your voice even. "What are you doing here?"

He approaches, a gentle smile on his face. "Couldn't resist the beauty of the night," he says, his eyes sweeping over the view. "And I wanted to check on you. You've been working so hard today."

You nod, your heart skipping a beat as he steps closer. "Yeah, it's been a long day," you reply, your voice a little shakier than you'd like.

Taehyung's gaze flickers over to the box in his hand before he extends it to you. "Here," he says, his voice a soft murmur. "I brought you something."

You take the box hesitantly, your heart racing as you open it. Inside, you find a perfectly arranged bouquet of strawberries, each one coated with a delicate layer of chocolate. "Thank you," you whisper, the words barely audible.

Taehyung's eyes are soft as they meet yours. "I noticed you couldn't eat the strawberries at dinner," he says, his voice a gentle caress in the quiet night. "They were all gone by the time you reached the table."

You can smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath, but you don't say anything. It's not your place. You're just his assistant, after all.

Taehyung takes a strawberry from the bouquet and holds it out to you, a playful glint in his eye. "Would you like one?"

You nod, your mouth feeling dry as you lean in to take it. But instead of placing the fruit in your hand, he brings it to your lips, his own hovering just a breath away. "Open," he whispers, his eyes holding yours captive.

You do as he says, the sweetness of the strawberry melding with the richness of the chocolate as he places it on your tongue. His eyes never leave yours, a silent challenge in their depths. And before you can even register what's happening, his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding.

You're surprised by the suddenness of it, but your body responds instinctively, your mouth moving with his as he deepens the kiss. His hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin as you lean into him. You've never felt anything like this before, a mix of passion and possessiveness that makes your head spin.

Taehyung breaks the kiss, a smug smile playing on his lips as he pulls back slightly. "Don't tell me you don't know how to kiss," he murmurs, his breath warm against your face.

Your cheeks burn, your heart racing as you realize the depth of your inexperience. You've never been kissed before, not really. Just pecks on the cheek from friends, awkward encounters at parties that left you feeling more embarrassed than anything else. "I... I'm sorry," you stutter, feeling your world tilt on its axis.

He chuckles, the sound low and intimate. "There's nothing to apologize for," he says, his voice a gentle reassurance. He leans in again, his breath ghosting over your lips. "Let me show you."

His mouth meets yours once more, his movements slower this time, as if savoring the taste of you. His hands slide down your arms, pulling you closer, and you can't help but melt into the warmth of his embrace. Your body responds, your arms wrapping around his neck as you try to keep up with the dance of his tongue. It's intoxicating, the way he kisses you, like you're the only person in the world that matters.

Yet, even as you kiss him back, there's a part of you that feels out of your depth. Your inexperience shows as you try to match his rhythm, your breath hitching every time his teeth graze your lower lip. You want to step back, to take a moment to breathe, but Taehyung's grip on you is unyielding, his lips never leaving yours as he guides you towards the elevator.

The doors slide open with a soft ding, and he pulls you inside, his kiss growing more urgent as he presses you against the cold metal wall. The elevator begins to descend, the only sound the soft whir of the machinery and the muffled noises of your breathless gasps. You try to keep up, your hands fumbling to hold onto his shoulders, but every time you think you've got it, he changes the rhythm, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

When the elevator stops, he breaks away, his eyes dark with desire. "Come with me," he whispers, his voice a seductive promise.

You nod, unable to find the words to protest, your body betraying your swirling thoughts. He takes your hand, leading you down the quiet hallway to his suite. The door clicks shut behind you, and suddenly, you're alone with him in a space that screams of luxury and temptation. The walls seem to close in as he backs you against the door, his mouth claiming yours once more.

This time, you try to pull away, your hands pushing at his chest, but he's insistent. His kisses grow deeper, more demanding, as his hands wander to your waist, pulling you closer. You feel the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of your shirt, and the scent of his cologne fills your senses, making you dizzy. Your mind is a whirlwind of confusion and longing, the line between your job and your feelings blurring with every beat of your racing heart.

With a sudden surge of strength, Taehyung lifts you by the hips, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he carries you towards the grand, unmade bed. Your eyes widen in surprise, but the protest dies on your lips as he deepens the kiss, swallowing any sound you might make. His arms are like steel bands, holding you firmly against him as he navigates the suite.

The world around you fades away as he lowers you onto the plush mattress, never breaking the connection between your mouths. His body covers yours, his weight pressing you into the softness of the bed, the contrast making your heart hammer against your ribs. You want to talk, to ask him what this means, but every time you try to form the words, his tongue sweeps into your mouth, leaving you gasping for air and unable to think straight.

His kisses become feather-light as they trail from your mouth to your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You arch your back, your breathing heavy as he lips at your sensitive skin. His hands slip under your sweater, tracing the curves of your body, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. You can feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, your mind hazy with desire.

But just as things are heating up, Taehyung's grip loosens, his breathing evened out, and his body goes slack. You blink in confusion, looking up to find his eyes closed, his head resting heavily on your shoulder. He's fast asleep, completely oblivious to the whirlwind of emotions he's left you in. You're torn between frustration and relief, your body still thrumming from his touch.

You try to push him away gently, but his arms are like lead around you. You struggle for a moment, trying to shift his weight without waking him, but it's futile. You're trapped under the warmth of his embrace, the smell of his cologne invading your senses. You let out a sigh, resigning yourself to the situation. You're not going anywhere until he decides to move.

As the minutes tick by, the adrenaline from the kiss fades away, and your eyelids start to feel heavier. The plush hotel bed is surprisingly comfortable, and Taehyung's body heat is like a warm blanket. Exhaling from the long day catches up to you, and despite the chaos in your mind, you feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep.

Next morning, the light from the crack in the curtains filters into the darkened hotel suite, illuminating the rumpled bed. Taehyung stirs, his eyes blinking open to the unfamiliar sight of your form curled behind him. Memories of the night's events come flooding back, his mind racing as he recalls the passionate kiss on the rooftop and the way his hands had wandered over your body.

With a start, he sits up, his voice urgent as he whispers, "Y/N, wake up." His hand shakes your shoulder gently.

You blink your eyes open, the reality of where you are and who you're with rushing back to you. The room is still dark, but the soft glow from the digital clock on the bedside table tells you it's early morning. You sit up with a jolt, your heart racing as you realize what's happening.

"You need to go to your room," he says, his voice low and firm. "Before anyone sees you here."

Panic sets in, and you nod, fumbling with the covers as you try to sit up.

"How much did we go last night?" Taehyung's question hung in the air, a stark reminder of the passionate encounter that had left you both breathless. You stared at him, your cheeks flushing as you recalled the intimate moments that had unfolded in the quiet solitude of the hotel suite.

"Did we...?" Taehyung's voice trailed off, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes as he searched yours for the answer.

You shook your head, the gravity of the question making your pulse quicken. "No," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "We didn't."

Relief floods his features, his hand coming up to run through his hair. "Thank God," he says, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing. "I'm sorry for last night, Y/N. I was a little drunk, okay?"

You nod, swallowing the hurt. "It's okay," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's fine. I should go to my room now."

He nods, his gaze dropping to his lap. "Yeah," he says, his voice tight. "You should."

You slip out of bed, the cold air hitting your skin like a slap. You grab your shoes and stand, your legs wobbly from the sudden movement. You avoid looking at him as you make your way to the door, feeling his eyes on you like a heavy weight.

Once outside, you hurry down the hall, your heart racing as if you've just committed a crime. The cool air in your lungs is a stark contrast to the heat of the room you've just left behind. You reach your own suite, the door a sanctuary you crave. You slide the keycard and enter, the door clicking shut behind you with a finality that echoes through the silence.

Leaning against the door, you let out a shaky sigh, trying to control the tears that threaten to spill over. Your hands come up to cover your face, but the dam breaks, and the tears flow regardless. You tell yourself that you knew better, that you should have seen this coming, but the reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks. You forgot. You forgot that you're just the intern, the girl who's supposed to blend into the background.

To be continued in the next chapter.......

Masterlist

[sakshikim]

The model secrets muse

Chapter 2

Your eyes went wide as you saw your notebook in his hands, the one you had thought lost forever. You froze, your heart hammering in your chest. How had he found it? "That's mine," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jimin smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "I noticed you dropped it in the taxi," he said, flipping through the pages. "It's quite... steamy. Did you write this?"

You felt a blush creep up your neck. "That's personal," you murmured, reaching out to snatch it from him. He held it out of reach, his eyes dancing with amusement.

The manager's smile grew colder. "It's not just about the book, sweetheart," she said, her voice a warning. "It's about your future. You see, if you don't agree to this, your little secret could become public knowledge. And then, who knows what your family and friends will think of you?"

Your hand dropped to your lap, your eyes downcast. You had never meant for your stories to be found, let alone used against you. Your heart raced as you thought of the implications. "What do you want from me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"A simple agreement," the manager said, sliding a contract across the table. "You pretend to be Jimin's fiancé for a few months, attend some events, smile for the cameras, and keep your mouth shut. In return, we'll take care of everything—your living expenses, a new wardrobe, whatever you need."

Jimin leaned in, his voice softer. "And you'll get to keep your dignity," he added, his eyes holding yours. "No one needs to know about your... hobby."

Your stomach churned as you stared at the contract. The thought of being associated with someone like him was almost unbearable, but the alternative was too terrifying to consider. Your hand hovered over the dotted line, trembling with the weight of your decision.

"I don't need anything," you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can handle my own expenses. But what about my safety?" You couldn't bring yourself to look at Jimin, but you knew he was watching you closely.

Eunji, the manager, barked out a laugh. "Safety?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow. "What safety are you talking about?"

You took a deep breath and pointed at Jimin. "From this guy," you said, your voice a mix of anger and fear. "I don't trust him."

Eunji rolled her eyes. "Jimin is harmless," she said dismissively, waving a hand at the superstar. "Aren't you, darling?"

Jimin leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't worry," he said, his eyes dropping to your chest. "I'm not going to bite."

Your cheeks flamed, and you shot him a glare that could have melted ice. "That's not what I meant," you hissed. "And keep your eyes to yourself."

Eunji's laughter echoed through the quiet restaurant, the sound grating on your nerves. "Oh, come on," she said, waving a dismissive hand. "Jimin's just being Jimin."

"Yeah," you murmured, your eyes never leaving the notebook in his grasp. "I'm ready to sign."

The manager's smile grew even more smug as she slid a pen across the table. "Good girl," she cooed, watching as your trembling hand reached for it. "Now, just sign here and we can put this whole mess behind us."

With a deep breath, you picked up the pen and signed your name, your heart racing as you watched your life become a commodity. The moment the ink dried, you held out your hand, your voice firm. "Now give me back my notebook."

Jimin studied you for a moment, the smirk still playing on his lips. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he handed it over. "Here you go," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Your little secret's safe with me."

The manager, Eunji, clapped her hands together. "Excellent," she said, her eyes gleaming. "Now, let's get started on the press release. The sooner we announce your engagement, the sooner we can put this scandal to rest."

You took your notebook, clutching it to your chest like a lifeline. You knew you were in over your head, but you had to protect yourself—and your secret. You had to play along, at least for now. You took a deep breath and nodded, your mind racing with the implications of your decision.

The press conference was set for the next day, and the preparations were a whirlwind. You were ushered into a luxurious dressing room, where a team of stylists and makeup artists descended upon you, transforming you from a shy, introverted writer into a glammed-up version of yourself. You felt like a doll being dressed for a show, your voice lost amidst the flurry of activity.

The conference room was a sea of flashing lights and eager reporters. You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you took your place beside Jimin, who looked unfazed by the attention. The room fell silent as the manager stepped up to the podium. "Ladies and gentlemen," she announced, her voice smooth and confident. "We have an exciting announcement to make."

The air was thick with anticipation as she continued, "As you know, there were some unfortunate photographs taken of our dear Park Jimin recently. But let me set the record straight—Jimin is not just a heartthrob; he's a man in love. He has found his soulmate in the most unexpected of places, and we are here today to introduce you to his fiancée, Y/N."

The room erupted in a cacophony of flashes and gasps as you were thrust into the spotlight. You felt like you were drowning, but you forced a smile onto your face, playing your part as instructed. Jimin took your hand, his grip firm and reassuring, and you squeezed back, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and dread.

As the cameras continued to flash, you couldn't help but think about your real life—the quiet nights spent writing in your room, the joy of seeing your words come to life in the pages of your notebook. Now, you were living in a story you never would have written, a story where you were the leading lady in a love story you didn't even believe in. You had to keep your head above water, even if it meant playing the part of the adoring fiancée.

The press conference was a blur of questions and smiles. Jimin was a natural, his charisma wrapping around the room like a warm blanket, while you felt like you were standing in a hurricane. You tried to focus on the script Eunji had given you, but every question felt like a personal attack, probing into your life and your feelings for a man you barely knew.

"How did you two meet?" a journalist with a shrewd smile asked, her pen poised to scribble down their love story.

Jimin took the lead, spinning a tale of fate and chance encounters that had the room swooning. Your heart raced as you nodded along, adding the occasional sweet smile or shy giggle. The lies rolled off his tongue like honey, and you could see the reporters lapping it up.

Finally, the onslaught of questions ended, and the room grew quiet. Eunji stepped in, wrapping up the event with a few well-rehearsed words about privacy and respect. You felt a weight lift from your shoulders as they stepped away from the podium, the lights dimming slightly as if in apology for their earlier intrusion.

Jimin turned to you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Not so bad, was it?" he whispered, his hand lingering on the small of your back as they exited the room.

You nodded, your throat tight with the effort of maintaining your facade. "It was fine," you said, your voice strained.

He leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear. "We'll get through this," he murmured. "But maybe we should get to know each other a little better, huh?"

You stepped back, your eyes flashing with determination. "Mr. Park," you said, your voice firm despite your racing heart, "please maintain your distance from me."

His smile never wavered. "But we're engaged," he teased, his hand still resting on your back.

"For the cameras," you reminded him, your tone leaving no room for argument. "In private, we're just... business associates."

Jimin's smile grew wider, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Oh, I see," he said, his voice a low purr. "But what if I didn't want to just be business associates?"

Your heart skipped a beat, and you swallowed hard. "Then you're going to have to deal with the consequences," you replied, your voice firm despite the tremor in your chest. "I'm here to protect my privacy, not to start a real relationship with you."

Jimin's laugh was deep and rich, like the sound of a chocolate fountain at a fancy party—sweet and tempting, but ultimately empty. "A relationship," he scoffed, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Why bother with that when I can have any girl I want, anytime?"

You rolled your eyes, the gesture feeling like a reflex to his arrogance.

Jimin, unfazed by your dismissal, pulled you close to him, his grip surprisingly gentle despite the challenge in his gaze. "What are you doing?" you asked, your voice a mix of annoyance and confusion.

With a smirk that could make angels blush, Jimin leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear. "I thought we could try out a scene from your book," he murmured, his hand traveling to the small of your back, his thumb grazing the fabric of your dress. "You know, to get into character."

Your eyes narrowed, and you tried to push him away, but his grip was surprisingly firm.

"Let go of me," you hissed, your cheeks flaming with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

Jimin's smirk grew wider as he whispered into your ear, his voice a seductive purr. "Come on," he coaxed, his hand deftly unbuckling the strap of your bra. "Let's give the paparazzi a real show."

Your pulse raced as you realized he had gone too far. This wasn't part of the script, this wasn't what you had signed up for. With a burst of strength fueled by adrenaline, you shoved him away, your hand slapping his face with a resounding crack.

The room went still, the air thick with shock and disbelief. Jimin's hand flew to his cheek, his eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, he looked like he couldn't believe what had just happened. Then, a slow smirk spread across his face. "Well, that was unexpected," he murmured, his voice a mix of amusement and something else you couldn't quite place.

Eunji, standing on the sidelines, had a look of horror that was quickly replaced by one of glee. She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of the scene, the flash illuminating their stunned expressions. "Omo," she exclaimed, her eyes alight with excitement. "This is gold."

Your heart was racing, your hand stinging from the slap. You had never hit anyone before, let alone a celebrity. But you had had enough of his games, enough of being a pawn in his scandal-ridden world. "I'm leaving," you said, your voice firm, turning on your heel.

Eunji's laughter stopped abruptly as she held up her phone, displaying the incriminating photo. "Look at this," she said, her voice filled with glee. "It's the first time you've been slapped by a girl."

Jimin's smirk dropped, and his eyes flashed with anger. In one swift motion, he snatched the phone from her hand and threw it against the wall, the screen shattering into a hundred glittering pieces. "I need her full details," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "In 30 minutes."

Eunji's eyes narrowed, but she didn't dare argue. She knew better than to cross Jimin when he was in this mood. "Understood," she said, her voice tight. "But why the sudden interest?"

Jimin's smile was cold and calculated. "Let's just say I want to keep an eye on things," he replied, his eyes never leaving your retreating form. "And on people."

The manager nodded, her mind racing with the implications. If Jimin was going to keep tabs on his new "fiancée," it meant he was serious about this charade. She knew better than to question his motives; she had seen this look before, the one that signaled a shift in his playboy persona to something more... possessive.

As the evening rolled in, Eunji called you, her voice brisk and business-like. "You're moving into the penthouse," she said without preamble.

Your heart sank. "What? No, I can't," you protested, your voice tight. "I'll stay in the hotel."

"Contract rules," Eunji said, her voice firm. "You signed it. You're moving in."

Your stomach dropped. "But I can't," you protested, your voice small. "I can't live with him. It's... it's not right."

"Contract rules," Eunji repeated, her voice as unyielding as steel. "You're already playing his fiancée, so it makes perfect sense for you to live with him. It's for the story, darling. And you don't want to waste money, do you?"

You felt a headache starting to form behind your eyes. "Fine," you gritted out, your voice tight with resentment. "I'll move in."

The penthouse was a gleaming tower of glass and chrome, a testament to Jimin's wealth and status. You felt like a mouse in a lion's den as you stepped into the grand foyer, your small suitcase in hand. You had never seen so much opulence in your life, and you knew you didn't belong here.

The elevator ride up was agonizingly slow, your heart racing with every floor that ticked by. What would it be like, living with someone like Jimin? Would you be able to keep your secret? Would you be able to keep your heart intact?

When the doors finally opened, you stepped out into a hallway that looked like it had been plucked from a magazine. The walls were lined with framed photographs of Jimin in various states of undress, surrounded by adoring fans and models. You couldn't help but feel overwhelmed, your shyness swelling like a balloon about to pop.

Upstairs, in a dimly lit room, Jimin sat in front of a wall of monitors, his eyes scanning the images of the penthouse. His smirk grew as he watched your tiny figure navigate the grandeur of his home. He clicked a button on his laptop, and a CCTV feed of you appeared on one of the screens. He zoomed in, his eyes lingering on you as you took in the opulence.

The file on you was open on the laptop's screen. "Runaway bride," he murmured to himself, reading over your details with a smirk. You were the perfect pawn in his game, a girl with a secret that could either make or break her. He had to admit, the idea of playing the lovesick fiancé was amusing, and he was looking forward to seeing how you'd handle it.

"What's your plan, Jimin?" Eunji's voice broke through his thoughts, her sharp tone cutting through the quiet hum of the screens.

Without looking away from the monitor, he replied, "Just want her in my bed," his voice filled with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

Eunji's eyebrows shot up, her surprise clear even from across the room. "I don't think that's going to happen," she said, her voice tight. "I was shocked too when I got her information. She's never been in a relationship, not even a serious one."

Jimin's eyes remained on the screen, his smirk deepening. "That's what makes it interesting," he said, his voice a low purr. "A virgin writer of such... explicit content."

Eunji raised an eyebrow. "Is that all you want from her?" she asked, her voice laced with skepticism. "To taste the forbidden fruit?"

"Why not?" Jimin shrugged, his eyes never leaving the monitor. "It's not every day you find someone like her in this line of work. Plus, it'll make for an interesting story to tell."

"Just don't create any problems," Eunji warned, her voice sharp. "We're in this to save your image, not to ruin hers. And definitely not to add more drama to your already chaotic life."

He chuckled, his eyes flicking to Eunji. "You think I can't handle a little virgin?" he teased, his tone light and playful despite the tension in the air.

Eunji rolled her eyes. "You can handle anything, Jimin. That's what worries me." She took a deep breath. "But remember, this is business. We need to keep it professional."

But as soon as she was out of earshot, Jimin leaned back in his chair, his smile growing wicked. "We'll see about that," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

An Unexpected Awakening

Meanwhile, in the guest room that had been designated for you, you sat at a sleek laptop, your fingers flying over the keyboard. The penthouse was eerily quiet, and you took solace in the familiar rhythm of writing, your thoughts racing as you weaved a new tale of passion and intrigue. Your story was your sanctuary, a place where you could escape the chaos of your new reality and find peace.

As you wrote, your eyes grew heavy, the words on the screen blurring together. You hadn't slept much the night before, your mind racing with the implications of your new life. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you leaned back in the chair, your breathing slowing. The last thing you remembered was typing the words "his touch was like fire," before darkness claimed you.

The sudden warmth on your cheek startled you awake, your eyes snapping open to find Jimin's hand resting lightly on your skin. He was leaning over you, his face so close you could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. "Miss me, my fiancée?" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

Your heart leapt into your throat, your hand flying to your face where he had just touched. "What are you—" you began to protest, but his lips cut off your words, pressing against yours in a kiss that was as unexpected as it was electrifying. You sat frozen for a moment, his hand still on your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin.

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of the sudden turn of events. You had just moved in with a man you barely knew, a man who was using you to save face, and now he was... kissing you? It was all too much.

With a burst of strength fueled by surprise and outrage, you pushed Jimin away, your palms flat against his broad chest. "What the hell are you doing?" you demanded, your voice shaking with emotion.

Jimin's smirk grew wider as he leaned back, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Welcome to my world, my dear fiancée," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. He had clearly enjoyed your shocked response to his unexpected kiss.

To be continued in the next chapter....

Masterlist

[sakshikim]

Whispers of obsession

Chapter : 6

Taehyung's eyes followed you as you gathered your things, his expression a mix of disappointment and something you couldn't quite read. "I'll drive you home," he offered, standing up and walking over to you. You felt a jolt of warmth at his nearness, but you knew you had to keep your distance.

"No, thank you," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'll just take the bus."

Before Taehyung could protest, the doorbell rang, the sound piercing the silence like a gunshot. Taehyung's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he glanced at the time. "It's late," he said, frowning. "Who could that be?"

He walked over to the door, and you watched with bated breath as he swung it open. Standing in the doorway was Jimin, his eyes wide as they took in the scene before him. "Tae," he began, his voice a mix of confusion and irritation. "Why did it take you so long to open the door?"

Taehyung's eyes narrowed slightly as he stepped aside, revealing you standing there with your bag packed. "Jimin," he said, his voice even. "What brings you here?"

Jimin's gaze flicked over to you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Wow," he said, his eyes lingering on your flushed cheeks. "Your little assistant is going to be here, too?"

You felt your face heat up even more under Jimin's scrutiny, and you wished the floor would just swallow you whole. "I was just leaving," you mumbled, trying to slip past them both.

But Jimin was quicker. He stepped in front of you, blocking your path with a playful smile. "Let me drop you home, Y/N," he said, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Taehyung's expression darkened at the suggestion, his jaw tightening. "No, she's fine," he said firmly. "She can take the bus."

Jimin's smile grew wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Come on," he said, reaching out to grab your arm. "I'll make sure she gets home safe. Besides, I haven't had the chance to really talk to her since the whole club incident."

Taehyung's eyes flashed, the tension in the room growing palpable. "What club incident?" he demanded, his gaze boring into Jimin.

Jimin's smirk faltered for a moment before he opened his mouth to speak. But you couldn't let the situation spiral out of control-not again. You placed a firm hand over Jimin's mouth, silencing him. "It's nothing, Tae," you said quickly, your voice shaky. "Really, it's just a misunderstanding."

Taehyung's gaze flickered between the two of you, his eyes narrowing. "Misunderstanding?" he repeated, his voice tight. You nodded, hoping he would buy it. "Jimin was just being friendly," you added, giving Jimin a pleading look. He rolled his eyes but nodded in agreement, his hand coming up to gently pry your fingers away from his lips.

"It's getting late," you said, your voice firm despite the tremor. "Jimin said he'd drop me off." You didn't give Taehyung a chance to protest. You grabbed your bag and slipped past him, your heart racing as you felt his eyes on your back. "Thank you for dinner," you called over your shoulder, hoping it sounded more casual .

Ones outside, Jimin's playful grin remained as he opened the door to his sleek sports car. "Hop in, I'll drop you off," he said, his tone light and teasing. You couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and relief as you slid into the passenger seat, the cool leather a stark contrast to the heat still pooling in your cheeks.

As he pulled away from the curb, you glanced at the bag he'd handed you. "What is this?" you asked, your voice a little shaky. Jimin's smile grew wider as he glanced over at you. "Just a little something I picked up from the hotel," he said, his voice low and playful. "I thought you might need it."

You looked down and saw the familiar flash of fabric peeking out of the bag. Your face went up in flames as you realized it was your underwear and bra from that fateful day. "Jimin," you whispered, your voice hoarse with embarrassment. "Why do you have these?"

Jimin's eyes darted over to you, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "You left them in the hotel room," he said, his tone casual yet laced with an unspoken challenge. "How could I leave such personal items behind?"

Your cheeks burned hotter. "Why didn't you just give them to me when you saw me at work?" you demanded, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

He shrugged, his eyes back on the road. "I figured it was better to give them back in person," he said, his voice deceptively calm. "Plus, it gave me an excuse to see you again."

You take a deep, steadying breath, the cool evening air doing little to calm your racing heart. "Jimin," you say, turning to face him, "can I ask you something?"

He nods, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the car. "Sure, darling," he says, the endearment rolling off his tongue so naturally it sends a shiver down your spine.

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words to ask your question without betraying the turmoil inside you. "That night at the club," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. "When you... took me to the hotel. Nothing happened between us, right?"

Jimin's eyes flick to you briefly before returning to the road ahead. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel, the leather creaking under his grip. "What do you mean?" he asks, his voice deceptively casual.

"I just want to clarify," you say, your voice stronger now. "Did you kiss me that night?" The question hangs in the air, thick and heavy like the humidity outside.

Jimin glances at you, his expression unreadable in the dim car light. "Why are you asking, Y/N?" he repeats, his voice holding a hint of challenge.

You look down at your clasped hands, fidgeting with your fingers. "Because I never kiss anyone," you murmur, the words barely leaving your lips. "So if that was my first kiss, I just... I just want to know."

Jimin laughs, the sound rich and deep, sending a shiver down your spine. "You're just like me, Y/N," he says, his eyes on the road.

You frown up at him, not understanding his sudden change in demeanor. "What do you mean?"

Jimin's smile turns into a smirk as he glances at you, his eyes glinting with something you can't quite pinpoint. "I don't kiss just anyone, darling," he says, his voice a low purr. "My kisses are reserved for someone special."

"So you don't kiss just anyone," you repeat, your voice barely a whisper as you try to process his words. Jimin nods, his smirk still playing on his lips.

"Exactly," he says, his voice low and velvety. "But when I do decide to kiss someone," he adds, his eyes lingering on your mouth, "it's going to be special."

"So you sleep with girls but don't kiss anyone yet," you murmur, the words a soft echo in the tension-filled silence. Jimin's playfulness evaporates, and he nods slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Yeah," he confirms, his voice dropping to a whisper that sends a shiver down your spine. "It's true."

"It is unbelievable," you murmur, your voice barely audible over the low purr of the engine. Jimin's revelation hangs in the air between you, thick with the scent of his cologne and the unspoken tension. You swallow hard, trying to digest his words.

"Why is it so hard to believe?" Jimin asks, his eyes meeting yours in the rearview mirror. His expression is unreadable, but there's a challenge in his tone. "If you can save your first kiss for someone special, why can't I do the same?"

You look away, staring out the window at the passing streetlights. "I didn't say it was wrong," you reply, your voice small. "It's just... unexpected."

Jimin laughs, the sound short and devoid of humor. "Is it?" he asks, his eyes back on the road. "Because to me, it's the most natural thing in the world."

You nod, not knowing what to say. The car rides on in silence for a few moments, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. You can't shake the feeling that he's baiting you, waiting for a reaction. "What's your type?" you blurt out, desperately trying to change the subject.

Jimin's smile widens, a spark of mischief in his eyes as he glances over at you. "Someone sweet," he says, his voice a purr. "Someone who understands me, who knows when to laugh at my jokes and when to be serious."

You can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips. "That's all?" you ask, trying to keep the conversation light.

"No," he says, his gaze lingering on your face. "Someone who isn't afraid to challenge me. Who won't be swayed by my charm or my status." He looks back at the road, his expression unreadable. "Someone who can handle me."

You feel your heart skip a beat at his words. "And is that all?" you ask, trying to keep your voice casual.

Jimin's smile widens. "No," he says, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror again. "Someone who loves me for who I am, not just because I'm Jimin from BTS."

You nod, his words resonating with you. "That's important," you murmur, looking away from his gaze. "But it's not always easy to find, is it?"

"No," Jimin agrees, his tone solemn now. "But when you do, it's worth the wait."

The car pulls up to the curb outside your apartment building, the headlights casting an orange glow on the sidewalk. Your heart feels like it's in your throat as Jimin puts the car in park. He turns to you, his smile gentle. "Here we are," he says, his voice soft. "Home sweet home."

You fumble with your seatbelt, trying to ignore the way your stomach flips at his words. "Thank you for the ride," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Suddenly, Jimin's hand is there, his fingers deftly unclipping the seatbelt for you. His touch sends a jolt of electricity through your body, and you fight the urge to lean into his warmth. He smiles, his eyes never leaving yours. "Anytime, darling," he says, his voice a low murmur.

As he helps you out of the car, his hand lingers on your arm for a beat too long, his touch feather-light. You can feel the heat of his palm seep through your skin, and it's all you can do not to shiver. "Thank you," you murmur again, pulling away and stepping onto the sidewalk.

Jimin's eyes follow you, his smile still in place. "Y/N," he says, his voice a soft caress. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. "What?" you squeak, trying to play it cool.

Jimin's smile turns knowing, his eyes dancing in the soft light of the street lamp. "Oh, come on, Y/N," he teases, leaning against the car. "You don't remember our little... encounter in the cafeteria?"

Your face flushes, and you stumble over your words. "I-I have to go," you stammer, your voice betraying your nerves. "It's late, and I have work tomorrow."

Jimin's eyes hold a spark of amusement, but there's a hint of understanding in his gaze. "Of course," he says, releasing your arm. "Good night, Y/N."

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. "Good night, Jimin." You turn and hurry towards the entrance of your apartment building, feeling his eyes on you until you're out of his line of sight. Once inside, you lean against the cool concrete wall, trying to catch your breath.

The next day at BigHit, you arrive early, eager to start your day and put the events of the previous night behind you. You're greeted by the bustling energy of the office, the sounds of phones ringing and people chattering a stark contrast to the quiet solitude of Taehyung's house.

Taehyung's manager approaches you with a clipboard, her smile professional. "Good morning, Y/N," she says, handing you a stack of papers. "Taehyung has a full schedule today. You'll need to keep him on track."

You nod, taking the clipboard from her. Your heart races as you scan the list of appointments, interviews, and rehearsals. You can do this. You're a professional. You don't let personal feelings get in the way of your work.

But as you're about to walk away, your phone rings, the sound jolting through the bustling office like a gunshot. You freeze, your hand trembling as you pull it out of your pocket. Jungkook's name flashes across the screen, and you swipe to answer, your heart hammering in your chest.

"Y/N," he says, his voice low and urgent. "Come to my music studio."

You hesitate, the words echoing in your mind. "Now?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

There's a pause, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice. "If you don't come," Jungkook says, "it's not going to be good for you."

The line goes dead, and you're left standing there, the phone clutched in your hand, your heart racing like a runaway train. What did he mean by that? Was it a threat? A warning? Or just his usual possessive bluster?

You look around the bustling office, unsure of what to do. You know you should stay and focus on your job, but something about Jungkook's tone sends a cold shiver down your spine. You decide to go, if only to put an end to the constant tug-of-war between you two.

You make your way to Jungkook's music studio, your footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. When you arrive, the door is slightly ajar, and you can hear the faint sound of a piano being played. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever confrontation awaits you, and push the door open.

Jungkook is there, his fingers dancing over the keys with a passion and intensity that takes your breath away. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, and he stops playing, his expression unreadable. "Y/N," he says, his voice a low rumble. "I've been waiting for you."

He stands up, his movements fluid and graceful, and locks the door behind you with a click that echoes through the room. The finality of the gesture sends a shiver down your spine. "What's going on?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jungkook walks over to you, his eyes searching yours. "Why did you reject me yesterday?" he asks, his voice low and intense. "What's the problem with me?"

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "It's not that you're not my type, Jungkook," you explain, your voice shaking slightly. "It's just... I don't feel that way about you."

Jungkook's smile fades, and he looks at you, really looks at you. "What do you mean?" he asks, his voice serious.

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "You're too perfect," you finally say, the words tumbling out of your mouth. "You're too tall, too handsome, too... everything. It's overwhelming."

Jungkook's expression changes, and a bark of laughter escapes him. He shakes his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You're adorable," he says, his voice filled with genuine amusement.

"I should go," you murmur, your voice barely a whisper, the words feeling like sandpaper against the back of your throat. But Jungkook doesn't move, his gaze unwavering as he steps closer, his eyes dark with a mix of confusion and determination.

Without warning, he reaches up, his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb brushes against your lower lip, and your heart skips a beat. "Jungkook, please," you manage to say, your voice shakier than you'd like. But before you can finish your protest, he leans in, his intent clear.

In a flash, your hand is up, your palm pressing against his mouth, halting him mid-movement. His eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, you think he might be angry. But then, the corners of his eyes crinkle, and he chuckles, his breath warm against your skin.

"You're so feisty," he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble that sends a shiver down your spine despite the firmness of your resolve. You pull your hand away, taking a step back, trying to put some distance between the two of you. But Jungkook isn't one to be deterred so easily. He steps forward, closing the gap, his hands moving to your hips.

Before you can react, he lifts you with surprising strength, making you gasp as he sits down in the chair behind him, pulling you onto his lap. You feel the heat of his body, the firmness of his muscles beneath you, and for a moment, you're frozen in place, your breath hitching. "Jungkook," you protest, your voice a whisper of sound in the enclosed space.

He doesn't listen, his hands moving from your hips to your waist, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on the bare skin above your jeans. You can feel his breath against your neck, his lips hovering just above your collarbone. He's not kissing you, but his touch is a promise of what's to come. His fingertips dance along your skin, leaving a trail of fire wherever they go. You try to push away, to stand up, but every time you do, his touch sends a wave of heat through you that makes your knees buckle.

Jungkook leans in, his nose tracing the line of your neck, his breath hot and tickling. He presses a gentle kiss just below your ear, and you can't help the soft moan that escapes you. Your body is betraying you, responding to his touch despite your protests. You feel his hands slip under your shirt, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your stomach. Your eyes flutter closed, and you lean back against his chest, unable to fight the delicious sensations that flood through you.

"Do you like it, kitten?" Jungkook murmurs against your skin, his voice a seductive purr that sends a shiver through you.

You stiffen at the nickname, a spark of anger igniting in your chest. With all the strength you can muster, you push yourself off his lap and stumble towards the door, your legs feeling like jelly. But before you can escape, Jungkook's hand snakes around your waist, pulling you back. You gasp as he pins you against the door, his body pressing into yours.

With a smirk, Jungkook drops to his knees, his eyes never leaving yours. You watch in a mix of horror and fascination as he leans in, his mouth hovering just above your stomach. You can feel his breath, warm and tickling, as his gaze travels up to meet yours. "What are you doing?" you ask, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation.

"What does it look like?" Jungkook murmurs, his voice thick with desire. Without waiting for your reply, he presses his lips to your skin, his kisses feather-light as he trails them up your abdomen. You suck in a sharp breath, your body reacting against your will. His hands move up to frame your hips, holding you in place as he explores you with his mouth.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. You can't believe this is happening, not here, not now. But your body seems to have a mind of its own, responding to his touch with a need that you can't ignore. Jungkook's kisses become more insistent, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

You whimper as his mouth reaches the hem of your shirt, his kisses growing more urgent. His hands slide under the material, pushing it up to reveal your soft, round stomach. He kisses you there, his tongue tracing circles around your belly button, making you gasp and arch into his touch. You can't help the moan that escapes your lips, your body a traitor to your own resolve.

"Jungkook, please," you whisper, your voice trembling. But the desperation in your tone only seems to satisfy him more, his eyes gleaming with victory as he looks up at you.

"I like your response, kitty," he murmurs, his voice a deep rumble that sends a tremor through your body. "Your body is so responsive."

With a sudden jolt, Jungkook stands up, his eyes gleaming with a mix of desire and something else that you can't quite place. "But now," he says, his voice firm, "you can go."

You don't need to be told twice. You push off from the door, your legs shaky as you make your escape. Jungkook doesn't follow, and you don't dare to look back. The cool air outside is a slap in the face, a stark contrast to the heat that still lingers on your skin from his touch. You stumble down the hallway, trying to get as far away from him as you can.

You find yourself outside, the cool evening air wrapping around you like a blanket. Your chest heaves with every breath you take, and your heart feels like it's racing a marathon. You lean against the brick wall of the building, trying to get your bearings. What the hell just happened?

The rest of the day at work is a blur. You're unable to focus on the tasks at hand, your mind replaying Jungkook's touch over and over again. Every time you see him, your heart skips a beat, and you can't meet his eyes without remembering the way his kisses felt.

Taehyung notices your distraction, his gaze lingering on you with concern. He's quieter than usual, his sharp eyes missing nothing as he observes you throughout the day. You try to hide your discomfort, but it's like trying to hide an elephant in a closet. The tension between you is palpable, and you can't shake the feeling that he knows something is off.

As the day draws to a close, Taehyung's manager approaches you, her voice clipped and efficient. "Taehyung has a music video shoot in the US," she says, her eyes scanning over the schedule. "You'll be accompanying him."

You blink, surprised by the sudden announcement. "When?" you ask, your voice a little too high.

"Tomorrow," she replies, her eyes not meeting yours. "You'll be leaving first thing in the morning. Make sure you pack everything Taehyung will need."

You nod, trying to keep your composure. A trip to the US? With Taehyung? Alone? This is... unexpected. You've never been out of the country before, let alone on a professional trip with your idol. Your mind races with the implications of what this means for your job, for your life.

Later on night, as you're about to leave for home, Taehyung's voice cuts through the buzz of the office. "Y/N, where is your mind today?" You jump at the sound, spinning around to find his face just a few inches from yours. His eyes are searching, concerned, and you realize that you've been lost in thought all day, trying to piece together the puzzle that is your tangled emotions.

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "It's just... a lot to take in," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Taehyung's expression softens, and he takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I know," he says, his voice a low rumble that seems to resonate through your entire body. "But when we're together, I need you to focus only on me."

You nod, his words sinking in like a warm embrace. You know he's right; you've been distracted, torn between your feelings for Jungkook . "Okay," you murmur, looking up into his eyes.

Taehyung's smile widens slightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that makes your heart flutter. "Good," he says, his voice a gentle rumble. "Now go home and get some rest. We have an early flight tomorrow."

You nod, feeling the weight of his words and the warmth of his gaze. "I will," you promise, taking a step back. The tension between you dissipates slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at him, your eyes lingering on his lips for just a moment too long.

With a nod, you turn and make your way out of the office, your thoughts swirling like a tornado. Jungkook's touch still lingers on your skin, a stark contrast to the comforting presence of Taehyung beside you. The anticipation of the trip to the US looms, a mix of excitement and fear swirling in your stomach.

To be continued in the next chapter....

Masterlist

[sakshikim]

The model secrets muse

Pairing:park jimin x reader

A/N:Thanks for reading here chapter 1 of the model secrets muse

Chapter :1

The Seoul International Airport bustled with excitement as reporters and fans crowded around the VIP exit, cameras flashing like a swarm of paparazzi fireflies. They whispered among themselves, eagerly anticipating the moment when the most talked-about celebrity in Korea, Park Jimin, would make his grand appearance. His charismatic persona was the heartthrob of the nation, and today was no different. Yet, amidst the chaos, a slender figure slipped out unnoticed, eyes cast down and clutching a tattered suitcase.

You stepped out of the airport, carrying your secrets, unnoticed by the busy crowd.Your dress moved in the wind as you scanned the unfamiliar faces, just wanting a moment of peace. You saw a taxi sign glowing and quickly walked towards it, ready to leave your past behind.

Meanwhile, Jimin's driver, a burly man in his mid-thirties with a stern look that matched his no-nonsense demeanor, marched through the airport, scanning the line of taxis outside. His boss, the enigmatic Park Jimin, had called in a panic—his luxury sports car had broken down on the way to the airport, leaving him without a ride to his next photoshoot. The driver's mission was clear: secure the best vehicle available, no matter the cost. He approached the same taxi that had caught your eye, his hand already reaching for his wallet to entice the driver with an overly generous tip.

You had just managed to stuff your luggage into the trunk of the taxi, feeling a brief sense of relief that you had found a way out of the chaos, when the driver's voice sliced through the air. "Ma'am, I'm sorry but I've already booked this car for someone else."

Your eyes widened in shock, and you turned to face him. "What do you mean?" you stuttered, your shyness briefly forgotten in the face of your new predicament. The driver, noticing the desperation in your eyes, offered a quick apology. "My apologies, but I have another appointment. Let me see if I can arrange another car for you."

While the driver was busy on the phone, you felt a sudden surge of panic. What if he couldn't find another car? What if your pursuers had already arrived at the airport? Your thoughts raced like a runaway train as you tugged at the handle of your suitcase, trying to pull it back out of the trunk. It was heavy, filled with your life's essentials and the weight of your secret. In your haste, you stumbled and hit your head against the metal edge of the trunk with a loud thunk. The world around you spun, and everything went dark.

When the driver turned around, he found the trunk open, your luggage half in, half out, and no sign of you. He frowned, assuming you had decided to leave without further ado. He slammed the trunk shut, feeling a twinge of guilt for not being able to help you. Without a second thought, he handed the keys to the waiting Jimin's driver, who had been observing the scene with a mix of curiosity and urgency. "Here you go," the cab driver said gruffly, "Your car is ready."

The Jimin's driver took the keys with a curt nod, his mind racing with thoughts of his own. He had a job to do, and it was a critical one—his boss was not a man to be kept waiting. He climbed into the driver's seat, the leather upholstery cool and inviting against his skin. As he started the engine.

Jimin emerged from the airport terminal, his eyes shielded by a sleek pair of aviator sunglasses, a sea of fans parted before him like the Red Sea for Moses. His smile was dazzling, a perfect blend of charm and mischief that could make even the most stoic of hearts flutter. He waved to his adoring public, his hand moving in a graceful arc that seemed to capture the light itself. The air was thick with the scent of his cologne, a heady mix of sandalwood and citrus that seemed to make the very air shiver with anticipation.

He approached the taxi, the epitome of confidence, his every step broadcasting that he was the star of the show. When he saw the driver, a flicker of recognition passed between them. "I've got it from here," he said smoothly, taking the keys from the surprised man's hand. "Why don't you go home and take the rest of the night off?"

The driver blinked, his eyes widening. "But, Mr. Park..." he began, but Jimin cut him off with a dismissive wave. "It's fine. I need some alone time. Besides, I can't have you driving me around looking like you just saw a ghost." He flashed a grin, and the man, still in shock, could do nothing but nod and watch as his celebrity client slid into the cab.

Jimin revved the engine and pulled out of the airport, the scent of leather and gasoline filling the car. As he drove, the tension of his earlier call began to melt away, replaced by the thrill of the open road. He reached for his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found the names of his two latest conquests, both eager to spend the night with him. With a smirk, he sent them a text, telling them to meet him at his penthouse.

Minutes later, the car pulled up outside a sleek, modern building. Two figures emerged from the shadows, their high heels clacking against the pavement like the beat of a drum. Both were stunning in their own right, one with fiery red hair and a figure that could make a saint swear, the other with raven locks that fell like a waterfall and eyes that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe. They spotted Jimin in the taxi and squealed with excitement, racing towards the car.

The red-headed girl was the first to reach the car, throwing open the back door and sliding in gracefully. Before the second girl could follow, Jimin leaned over, whispering, "Why not both of you stay with me tonight?" The girls' eyes lit up, and a playful rivalry danced across their faces. They giggled, the sound like tinkling bells in the enclosed space.

You, who had been lying unconscious in the backseat, suddenly stirred at the sound of their giggling. Your head pounded, and the world was a blur of light and shadow as you fought to regain your bearings. You blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the two figures leaning over you. When you saw them move closer, their lips puckered in an attempt to kiss the same boy, you couldn't help the scream that tore from your throat.

The car lurched to an abrupt halt, and Jimin's head snapped around. His eyes narrowed, and he demanded, "Who the hell are you?" His voice was a mix of surprise and irritation, the smoothness of a moment ago gone. Still groggy from your fall, you pushed yourself up to a sitting position and took in the scene before you. The two stunned girls froze in their tracks, their mouths hanging open like surprised fish.

"How did you get in my car?" Jimin repeated, his tone sharper now. The redheaded girl looked at you with a mix of curiosity and jealousy, while the raven-haired beauty took a step back, her eyes wide with shock.

Still reeling from the pain in your head, you managed a weak smile. "It's a long story, but I'm just as surprised as you are. The taxi driver must have accidentally left the back door unlocked." You rubbed your forehead, trying to ease the ache.

The two girls, however, were not so easily deterred. The redhead took a step forward, her eyes narrowing into slits. "What's going on here, Jimin? Who is this?" she hissed, her voice like a serpent in the dark. The raven-haired beauty took a step closer to Jimin, her arms wrapping possessively around his.

Jimin, his patience wearing thin, tried to calm the situation. "Ladies, this is a misunderstanding," he began, his voice firm yet measured. "This girl is not my girlfriend."

But the girls were not in the mood for explanations. They began to argue with each other, their voices rising like a crescendo in a soap opera. "How could you do this to me, Jimin?" the redhead spat, her eyes flashing. "You promised me tonight!"

"Back off, he's mine!" the raven-haired beauty snapped, her grip on Jimin tightening.

You, feeling utterly out of place in the midst of this love triangle turned catfight, tried to slip out of the car unnoticed. But as you moved, your dress caught on the door handle, and you yelped in pain as the fabric ripped.

The commotion grew louder, and Jimin, his patience now fully exhausted, yelled, "ENOUGH!" The girls turned to him, their faces a mix of anger and surprise. He took a deep breath, his handsome features etched with annoyance. "This girl," he said, pointing at you, "is not my girlfriend. She's just a...a..." He paused, searching for the right words. "A fan," he finished lamely.

You blinked, the accusation stinging like a slap across the face. "What? A fan?" you echoed, your voice trembling. "I don't even know you, Mr. . This is all just a big misunderstanding."

The two girls looked at each other, their expressions a mix of embarrassment and anger. They turned to Jimin, who was now looking equally as bewildered. "What is she talking about?" the redhead demanded.

Jimin's jaw clenched, and he met your gaze in the rearview mirror. "Look," he said, his voice tight with irritation, "I don't know how you got in here, but you need to get out. Now."

You, your cheeks flaming with embarrassment, hastily gathered your torn dress and slid out of the car. You reached into the trunk and pulled out your suitcase with a grunt, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. As you straightened up, you met the icy glare of the two beauties who had claimed the model as their own. They sneered at you, their contempt palpable in the air.

"You two have terrible taste," you murmured under your breath, your voice shaking with anger. "To think you'd fight over such a... a... jerk." You spat out the last word with as much venom as you could muster, your grip on the suitcase handle tightening.

The redhead's eyes narrowed into slits, and she took a step towards you. "What did you just say?" she demanded, her voice a low growl.

The raven-haired girl placed a hand on her friend's arm, a smirk playing on her lips. "Let's not bother with her, she's not worth it," she whispered, her voice dripping with condescension.

Jimin rolled his eyes and turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life. He threw the car into gear and sped off, leaving you standing on the sidewalk, feeling more alone than ever. You watched the taillights disappear into the night, the sound of their laughter echoing in your ears.

"What a rude person," you murmured to yourself, your cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. You had always heard rumors about the arrogance of celebrities, but experiencing it firsthand was a whole other level of humiliation. Your heart raced as you tried to process what had just happened.

With a heavy sigh, you lugged your suitcase down the street, searching for a quiet place to collect your thoughts. A nearby hotel caught your eye, its neon sign flickering like a beacon of hope. You decided to book a room for the night, hoping the solitude would help you figure out your next move.

Upon entering the lobby, you felt the cool embrace of the air conditioning, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat of the night outside. The hotel was a small, cozy establishment, with a hint of old-school charm that made you feel slightly less out of place. You approached the front desk, where a friendly receptionist offered you a warm smile. "Welcome," he said, his English slightly accented but fluent. "Do you have a reservation?"

Your eyes scanned the lobby, your thoughts racing. You realized you didn't even know the name of the hotel. "No," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "You were hoping to book a room for the night."

The receptionist's smile didn't falter. "Certainly," he said, typing away at the computer. "We have a few rooms available. Would you like a single or a double?"

"Just a single," you murmured, your gaze drifting to the floor. The weight of your decision to run away from your wedding felt heavier with every passing second.

Once you had the key in hand, you took the elevator to your floor, the numbers ticking down like the moments before a doomsday clock strikes midnight. The hallway was dimly lit, the carpet a faded pattern of flowers that had seen better days. You found your room, inserted the key, and pushed open the door.

Inside, the room was a welcome reprieve from the chaos outside—small but cozy, with a queen-sized bed that looked heavenly after your long journey. You placed your suitcase at the foot of the bed and took a deep, calming breath. Then you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, your heart racing as you saw the barrage of missed calls and texts from your worried parents. Your thumb hovered over the call button, your heart aching with the weight of your decision.

But before you could dial, the phone in your hand began to ring. You recognized the number immediately—it was your editor, the one person who knew you better than anyone else in the world. The one person who knew about your secret life as an adult story writer. You took a deep breath and answered, your voice shaky. "Hello?"

"Y/N!" The editor's voice was a mix of panic and annoyance. "Where have you been? You're supposed to upload the next chapter!"

Your knees gave way, and you sank onto the bed, your hand trembling as you held the phone to your ear. "I...I'm sorry," you whispered. "I had to...I ran away."

The line went silent for a moment before the editor's voice returned, softer this time. "You did what?"

"I ran away from my wedding," you said, the words feeling surreal as they left your mouth. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't marry someone I don't love."

The editor took a deep breath, the static on the line the only sound for a few moments. "Look, I know this is a big deal, but we can't have this affecting your work. You have a deadline."

You nodded, even though he couldn't see you. "I know," you said, your voice small. "I'll do my best."

The line was quiet again, and you could almost hear the cogs in your editor's brain turning. "Alright," he said finally. "But you need to get back to writing, and soon. Your fans are waiting."

You nodded again, feeling the weight of his words settle on your shoulders like a heavy blanket. "I know," you repeated, your voice stronger this time. "I'll get started now."

Your eyes scanned the room, looking for a place to write. You had always found comfort in your words, in the worlds you could create with the stroke of a pen. But as you reached into your bag to retrieve your notebook, your hand closed around empty space. Your heart skipped a beat as you frantically searched, tossing aside clothes and toiletries. Your notebook, the one that held your latest manuscript, was nowhere to be found. Panic set in, and you felt the walls closing in around you.

Your eyes darted around the room, searching for any clue to its whereabouts. Could it have fallen out in the taxi? In the rush to escape, you had been so focused on getting away that you had forgotten the most precious item you owned. Your heart raced as you retraced your steps in your mind, trying to remember the last time you had seen it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sudden realization that the notebook could be anywhere—on the airport floor, in the trunk of the taxi, or even in the hands of someone who had found it. The idea of your intimate thoughts and stories being exposed to the world was more terrifying than the prospect of facing your angry parents. You had to find it.

Jimin, meanwhile, had arrived at his penthouse, the luxurious suite high above the glittering cityscape of Seoul. He instructed the two girls to wait in the bedroom, eager to be rid of them. They pouted but complied, their high heels clicking against the marble floor as they retreated. He couldn't be bothered with their dramatics tonight; he had more important things on his mind.

As he stepped out of the taxi, the cool night air washed over him, carrying with it the faint scent of rain. He noticed something peculiar—a notebook, lying on the floor of the backseat, half-hidden by the shadows. Curiosity piqued, he bent down to pick it up. It was small and well-worn, the pages filled with scribbled notes and what looked like the beginnings of a story.

Before he could peek inside, his phone blared to life, the screen lighting up with the name of his agent. He sighed, tucking the notebook into his pocket. He knew better than to ignore her calls—his schedule was her domain, and she was notorious for her lack of patience. He took the call, listening intently as she rattled off a list of appointments and photo shoots that awaited him in the coming days.

Morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Park Jimin's penthouse, painting the room in a soft, warm glow. He stirred in his bed, the luxurious sheets tangled around his legs as the incessant ringing of his phone pierced the tranquility of the dawn. With a groan, he reached over and picked up the device, his eyes barely open. "What is it?" he murmured into the receiver.

"Jimin, you need to turn on the TV—right now," his manager's voice was urgent, cutting through the fog of sleep like a knife.

Jimin sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice still thick with slumber.

"Just do it," she insisted, the line going dead.

With a huff, he tossed aside the covers and padded over to the entertainment system. The flat-screen TV flickered to life, the news playing on mute. The headline stopped him cold: "Park Jimin Caught in Compromising Situation with Multiple Women." His heart skipped a beat as he hit the volume button.

The stark white walls of the meeting room were adorned with framed photographs of Jimin in various modeling poses, each one seemingly more perfect than the last. The heavy oak table was laden with documents, contracts, and a half-empty coffee cup that had gone cold. Jimin's manager, a sharp-faced woman with a blunt bob and a no-nonsense attitude, sat with her arms crossed, glaring at her client as if he was a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

The TV in the corner of the room played the news on a loop, the same image of Jimin's taxi encounter flashing on the screen over and over. The reporter's voice was a dull drone, but the words were etched into Jimin's mind like a tattoo—his reputation, his career, all hanging in the balance.

His manager's eyes bore into him, the weight of her stare as intense as the caffeine in her cold coffee. "What were you thinking, Jimin?" she barked, her voice a mix of frustration and disbelief. "You're all over the news, the tabloids, social media—do you have any idea how much damage this could do?"

Jimin leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed as he took a deep, calming breath. "I can handle it," he said, his voice laced with the confidence that had made him a star. "I'll just pay them off. It's what we do, isn't it?"

The manager's glare didn't waver. "This isn't a simple payoff," she snapped. "This is a scandal. And what about that girl you just left on the side of the road? Who is she?"

Jimin's eyes snapped open. "What girl?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"The one in the video!" she exclaimed, jabbing a finger at the TV screen. "The one who looked like she'd just seen a ghost. Who is she?"

Jimin's eyes narrowed as he recalled the shy, unassuming girl from the taxi. "I don't know her," he said, his voice a tapestry of annoyance and confusion. "It was just a mix-up."

His manager leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with a new idea. "But what if we didn't let it be just a mix-up?" she mused. "What if we made her your fiance?"

Jimin's eyebrows shot up. "My fiance?" he echoed, incredulous. "Why would we do that?"

The manager leaned back in her chair, tapping a manicured nail against her teeth. "Think about it," she began, her voice a calculated purr. "The media loves a good love story. If we spin this right, we can turn this scandal into a publicity stunt that will have everyone eating out of our hands."

Jimin's eyebrows furrowed as he processed the proposal. "But why her?" he asked, his tone skeptical. "I don't even know her name."

"Exactly," the manager said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "She's a blank slate, someone we can mold into the perfect celebrity girlfriend. Plus, she's obviously not used to the limelight, so she'll be grateful for the chance to escape her mundane life."

Jimin frowned, the idea still not sitting right with him. "But what about the two of them?" he asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction the two models had retreated to. "How do we explain the picture?"

"Easy," the manager said, her tone cool and calculated. "We say they're just friends, eager to surprise you for your homecoming. You'll hold a press conference, introduce her as your fiance, and the public will eat it up. They love a good love story, especially one with a twist."

Jimin leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. The idea was ludicrous, but he had to admit there was some merit to it. It was a way to control the narrative, to ensure that his career didn't go up in flames. And if he had to have a fake relationship, why not with someone who didn't know any better? "Alright," he said, his voice a begrudging acceptance. "But how do we find her?"

The manager smirked. "Leave that to me," she said, her fingers already flying over her keyboard. "I have my ways."

Jimin walked into his penthouse, the day's events playing on repeat in his mind. The scent of their perfume still lingered in the air, a sour reminder of the chaos he had left behind. He tossed his phone onto the couch, the news of the scandal still a buzz in his ear. He was tired, both mentally and physically, and just wanted to sink into the plush cushions of his favorite sofa and forget the world outside.

As he sat down, his eyes fell on the notebook, lying innocently on the table. It was the one he had found in the taxi, the one that had been a brief distraction from his manager's tirade. He reached out and picked it up, his curiosity piqued once more. He had never been much of a reader, but the scandal had left a bad taste in his mouth, and he needed a distraction.

As he opened the cover, the pages fluttered like the wings of a captured bird, revealing handwriting that was both delicate and bold. The title page held no name, only the words "Untamed Desires." A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth—it was definitely not the type of book he would have expected to find in such a mundane place.

"Interesting indeed," Jimin said with a smirk, his eyes scanning the pages of the notebook. The handwriting was feminine and confident, the words a jumble of English and what he assumed was Korean.

The next evening, the manager called Jimin with an update. She had found the girl from the taxi, and she had agreed to come to dinner. A meeting was set for the next evening at a seven-star restaurant in the heart of Seoul, a place where the walls whispered secrets and the food cost more than most people's rent.

You stepped into the opulent dining room, your heart racing. You had never been anywhere so fancy, and the thought of facing the man who had called you a "fan" in such a public place was nerve-wracking. You clutched your purse tightly, your knuckles white with tension.

The maître d' led you to a private booth where Jimin and his manager were already waiting. He looked up from his phone as you approached, his eyes widening slightly when he saw you. You had showered and changed into something more presentable, but the memory of your last encounter was still fresh in your mind.

The manager stood, extending a perfectly manicured hand. "Thank you for coming," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Please, have a seat."

You sat down awkwardly, the plush velvet of the chair enveloping you like a trap. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. "What is this about?" you asked, your voice shaking.

Jimin leaned back, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. "My manager thought it would be a good idea for us to get to know each other," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "You see, we're in a bit of a situation."

The manager picked up the thread. "The photos from the other night," she said, her voice a purr. "They're causing quite the stir. And we thought, why not turn a negative into a positive?"

Your eyes widened in horror. "What are you suggesting?" you squeaked.

"We want you to be his fiancée," the manager said, her smile never wavering. "It's simple, really. You're already caught in the scandal, and the public loves a good love story. You play along, and we'll make sure your life is more than comfortable."

You felt like you were in a nightmare you couldn't wake up from. You had run away from one set of expectations only to be thrust into another. "No," you said firmly, pushing your chair back. "I'm not interested."

But before you could stand up, Jimin's voice stopped you. "Untamed Desires," he said, holding up the notebook. "Really nice book."

Your eyes went wide as you saw your notebook in his hands, the one you had thought lost forever. You froze, your heart hammering in your chest. How had he found it? "That's mine," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jimin smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "I noticed you dropped it in the taxi," he said, flipping through the pages. "It's quite... steamy. Did you write this?"

To be continued in the next chapter......

The model secrets muse masterlist

Masterpost

[sakshikim]

My Fanfiction masterpost

Hello everyone! This is the central hub for all my multi-chapter fanfiction works on Tumblr. Click on any story title below to jump to its full Masterlist, where you'll find summaries, warnings, and links to all chapters.

Whispers of Obsession

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung/park jimin X reader

Warnings: This story contains extremely dark and mature themes that may be disturbing to some readers. Explicit sexual content, emotional breakdown, toxic relationship, unprotected sex.

Genre: Idol AU, Dark Romance, Obsessiveness, Possessive Behavior, Yandere, BDSM

Status: Ongoing

Read Whispers of Obsession Here:

The Model's Secret Muse

Pairing: park jimin x reader

Genre:Idol AU, Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, possessive, obsession

Warnings: This story contains extremely dark and mature themes that may be disturbing to some readers. Explicit sexual content, emotional breakdown, toxic relationship, unprotected sex.

Status: Ongoing

Read The Model's Secret Muse Here:

[sakshikim]

Masterlist the model secrets muse

Pairing: park jimin x reader

Genre: idol au, romance, fake pretend relationship,possessive behavior, obsession

Warning: This story contains extremely dark and mature themes that may be disturbing to some readers.

* Non-consensual sexual acts (rape)

* Graphic violence and unsettling situations

* Explicit sexual content

* Abusive power dynamics and manipulation

* Strong, uncensored language

This narrative is specifically crafted for readers who are comfortable with, and actively seek out, dark romance with challenging and potentially triggering content.

Summary: Y/N pours her soul into stories of forbidden love, only to become ensnared in her most dangerous plot. Her secret life as an author collides with a terrifying reality when model Jimin develops a dangerous obsession, pulling her deeper into a world where his dark desires mirror her deepest literary fantasies.

Chapter : ongoing

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 coming soon

Masterpost

[sakshikim]

Whispers of obsession

A/N:Hello everyone thanks for returning for chapter 5 of whispers of obsession I hope you enjoy this installment

Chapter: 5

The CEO's smile grew wider, but it was cold, like a shark's smile. "You can't deny the offer," he said, his eyes glinting. "It's a special request. From someone very important."

"From who?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"It's me," said a voice from behind you. You spun around in your chair, your eyes widening when you saw Taehyung standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets. His gaze was intense, and you could feel the weight of his stare like a physical touch.

The CEO nodded. "Mr. Kim here," he said, gesturing to Taehyung, "has taken an interest in your work and has requested that you be his personal assistant."

Taehyung's eyes never left yours as he spoke, his voice like velvet. "Thank you for considering my request," he said, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

The CEO's smile was knowing as he nodded at Taehyung. "It's not often we get requests from our artists," he said, his tone suggesting that this was a rare honor. "But your dedication to the company is commendable, and we're happy to accommodate."

You felt your mouth open and close like a fish as you tried to find the words to protest. But before you could say anything, Taehyung was there, his hand on your shoulder. "Thank you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I'll make sure she does her best."

The CEO nodded, his gaze lingering on them for a moment longer before he returned to his paperwork. "Good," he said, his tone final. "I expect nothing less."

You stumbled out of the CEO's office, your legs feeling like they could give out beneath you at any moment. You couldn't believe what had just happened. Taehyung had requested you as his personal assistant?

"Why me?" you blurted out, spinning to face him. "I'm not capable of handling this kind of responsibility!"

Taehyung's expression remained unflappable, his hand reaching out to gently place a finger over your trembling lips. "Please," he murmured, his voice a soft caress. "Take good care of me, my assistance."

Your face grew hotter as you felt his touch, and you were unable to formulate a coherent response. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your knees wobble. The room spun around you, and you knew that you were blushing furiously.

"Your red face is really cute," Taehyung murmured, his hand dropping to his side. The corners of his lips twitched upward in a smirk that was both infectious and disarming. "So, work hard from tomorrow. Being my personal assistant isn't going to be an easy thing."

Your heart raced as you nodded, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. You would be Taehyung's personal assistant, working closely with someone you had once only admired from afar. The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating, and you knew that you would have to be on your toes every moment.

That evening, Minseo invited you to a quiet restaurant to celebrate your new position. The dim lighting and soothing music did little to calm your nerves as you picked at your food, your thoughts swirling around Taehyung's enigmatic behavior.

"You seem upset, Y/N," Minseo observed, her eyes filled with concern. She took a sip of her drink, setting it down with a gentle clink on the table. "You've just been promoted to work closely with one of the most handsome and talented members of BTS. What's bothering you?"

Your cheeks flushed, and you fidgeted with your napkin. "I'm not upset," you insisted, your voice shaky. "I'm just... surprised." You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. "It's just that whenever I see Taehyung, my heart races, and I can't think straight."

Minseo's eyes widened in understanding. "Oh," she said, her voice gentle. "It's like that, is it?"

You nodded, your eyes downcast. "It's so embarrassing," you murmured. "I can't even talk to him without stuttering."

Minseo's smile was warm and knowing. "It's normal to feel that way around someone you admire," she said, her voice soothing. "But remember, Taehyung is a person too. And from what I've seen, he can be quite... understanding."

You nodded, trying to push your fears aside. "I know," you murmured. "But I'm scared. What if he thinks I'm some kind of stalker?"

Minseo reached over and patted your hand gently. "Trust me, Taehyung can handle himself," she assured you. "Just be professional and honest. He'll see that you're not like that."

You took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "You're right," you whispered, trying to convince yourself. "I can do this."

After dinner, you walked to the bus stop, your mind still racing with thoughts of Taehyung. As you approached, you noticed a group of girls huddled around a dumpster, laughing. Your eyes widened in shock when you saw them tossing a crumpled BTS album into the bin.

Your heart swelled with indignation, and you couldn't hold back your protest. "Hey!" you shouted, your voice echoing through the empty street. "What are you doing to their album?"

The girls' laughter stopped abruptly, and they turned to face you, their expressions a mix of surprise and contempt. "What's it to you?" one of them sneered, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"It's just disrespectful," you said, your voice firm despite your trembling. "They're people's hard work, and you're treating it like trash."

The girls exchanged looks, their smirks widening. "Oh, you're one of those crazy fans," another one said, her tone mocking. "You should get over it. They're just a boy band."

Your eyes narrowed, your hands balling into fists at your sides. "They're more than that," you said, your voice rising. "They're artists, and you're just a bunch of disrespectful-"

But before you could finish, the girls were retreating, their laughter echoing through the night as they disappeared around the corner. "Psycho," one of them called back, their footsteps fading into the distance.

You felt a lump form in your throat as you approached the dumpster, tears stinging your eyes. With trembling hands, you reached into the bin and pulled out the crumpled BTS album, holding it close to your chest as if it were a piece of yourself that had been discarded. The cover was smudged with dirt and grime, but you could still see the boys' smiling faces through the mess.

As you cradled the album, a voice spoke up from behind you, "Why are you crying over that? It's just a piece of cardboard with some songs on it."

Your eyes remained fixed on the album, ignoring the judgment in the stranger's tone. "For me," you whispered, your voice cracking, "it's not just an album."

The voice grew closer, and you felt a warm hand touch your shoulder. You didn't look up, the weight of your emotions too heavy to allow a stranger's comfort. "You know, there are people who can't even dream of owning something like this," you said, your voice thick with unshed tears. "I'm crying because I know how much it means to some fans, how much they would cherish it if they could."

'What are you going to do with this album now?' The question hung in the air, a challenge wrapped in nonchalance. You took a deep breath and turned to face the stranger, your eyes blurry with unshed tears. 'I will give it to an ARMY who will truly value it,' you replied with determination, your voice stronger than you felt.

The hand on your shoulder retreated, and you heard a soft chuckle. 'Then I should give you my autograph to make it more special,' the voice said, amusement lacing the words. You blinked rapidly, wiping at your eyes to clear your vision.

As your gaze met Jimin's, you realized who the stranger was. He looked down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. You stared at him for a moment, shock rendering you speechless. The album fell slightly from your grasp as you tried to process the absurdity of the situation.

"Jimin," you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jimin's smirk grew, and he leaned closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently wipe a tear from your cheek. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and his thumb brushed against your skin with a tender warmth that made your heart stutter. "It's okay," he murmured, his eyes softening. "I get it."

Without another word, he took the album from your trembling hands, his thumbs tracing over the crumpled cover before flipping it open to the first page. He pulled out a pen from his pocket and began to scribble something inside, his eyes focused on his task. You watched him, still unable to fully comprehend what was happening.

Once he was done, he handed the album back to you, his signature scrawled across the glossy surface in bold letters. "There," he said, his voice low. "Now it's something truly special."

You looked up at him, your eyes still wide with shock. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jimin's smile grew wider, and before you could react, he leaned in and whipped your bottom lip with his thumb, his eyes locked on yours. He brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it clean, his gaze never leaving yours. "I'll take this as thanks," he said, his voice a low purr that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your face burned, and you stumbled backward, the album clutched to your chest. "W-what do you mean?" you stammered, your voice barely a whisper.

Jimin's eyes danced with amusement. "See you tomorrow, baby," he said, his voice playful and filled with promise. He winked before turning to leave, his footsteps echoing through the empty street as he disappeared into the night.

You stood there, rooted to the spot, your heart racing. What had just happened? You looked down at the album, Jimin's autograph staring back at you like a glossy declaration of his intent.

On the other side of the city, in the sleek interior of a luxurious car, Jimin sat behind the wheel, a smug smile playing on his lips as he thought about his encounter with the intern, Y/N. His mind wandered back to the cafeteria the previous day when he had caught her stumbling over her words and blushing at his flirtatious banter. He couldn't help but feel a thrill at the thought of someone so innocent getting flustered by his mere presence.

"That's the girl you were trying to hit on in the cafeteria yesterday, isn't it?" Suga's voice cut through the silence, his eyes meeting Jimin's in the rearview mirror.

Jimin's smirk grew as he nodded. "Yeah, that's the one," he admitted, his eyes glazing over with mischief. "So innocent and so clueless. It's adorable."

"Adorable?" Suga echoed, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Since when do you go for the innocent type, Jimin?"

Jimin chuckled, his eyes still on the road ahead. "Since I realized it's more fun to corrupt than to chase after jaded hearts," he replied, his voice dripping with a challenge.

Suga leaned back in his seat, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Taehyung asked the CEO to make her his personal assistant" he repeated, his voice filled with disbelief.

"What nonsense is this?" Jimin exclaimed as soon as he and Suga stepped into the BTS dorm. The living room was alive with the hum of conversation and the clink of glasses, the other members lounging on the couches and chairs, drinks in hand. "Tae, you told me you weren't interested in her, so why did you ask the CEO to make her your personal assistant?"

Taehyung looked up from his laptop, his expression unreadable. "It's entertainment," he replied with a shrug, his voice as cool as the air conditioning in the room. "Watching her squirm and blush is more amusing than any TV show."

J-Hope's eyes widened, his mouth forming an 'o' of surprise. "Wow, wow," he said, his voice rising in pitch. "Our Taehyung getting interesting in a girl? That's rare." The room fell silent for a beat before erupting into laughter, the tension briefly dissipating.

But Taehyung's expression remained unchanged. "It's not like that," he said, his voice firm.

"Which girl?" Jungkook repeated, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer to the group.

Suga nodded toward the retreating figures. "The new intern," he clarified, his voice tinged with amusement. "Y/N."

Jungkook's smile dropped, his eyes flashing with something that looked dangerously close to anger. "What the hell, Tae?" he spat out, his voice low and venomous. "That girl is mine."

"When did she become your Jungkook?" Jimin's question hung in the air, his voice a blend of curiosity and challenge as he looked at Jungkook with a smirk.

Jungkook's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with something akin to annoyance. "When my eyes fell on her," he replied, his voice a low growl.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between the two of them. "I don't have any problem in sharing," he said with a shrug, his voice deceptively casual.

Jungkook's eyes narrowed at Taehyung's nonchalant remark. "Why would you think that?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "You know I don't share."

Taehyung's smile grew sly. "Come on, Jungkook," he cajoled, his eyes flicking over to Jimin, who was watching the exchange with an amused expression. "It'll be fun, won't it, Jimin?"

"Mm," Jimin hummed thoughtfully, his gaze shifting to Jungkook. "It might be entertaining."

Jungkook rolled his eyes at Jimin's words, his jaw tightening. "You're always looking for trouble," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jin looked at Namjoon, who was leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded, his expression unreadable. "We should stop them," he suggested, his voice a mix of concern and exasperation.

Namjoon sighed, his eyes meeting Jungkook's. "You know they never listen to us," he said, shaking his head slightly. "But if she gets hurt, it'll be on us."

The next day, you arrived at BigHit with your stomach in knots, the weight of your new role pressing down on your shoulders. You had barely stepped foot in the building when you were approached by Taehyung's manager, a stern-looking woman with a clipboard and a no-nonsense attitude. "You must be the new assistant," she said, her voice as sharp as the edges of the clipboard.

Your hands trembled as you nodded. "Yes," you managed to squeak out, trying to sound more confident than you felt. "Y/N."

The woman barely spared you a glance. "Taehyung is a very busy man," she said, her eyes scanning over a list of names and times. "You will be responsible for keeping his schedule, handling his personal affairs, and ensuring that he is prepared for every engagement. Do you understand?"

You nodded again, your voice still trapped in your throat. "I understand," you whispered.

"Good," she barked, her eyes finally meeting yours. "Follow me." She turned on her heel and marched away, and you had to hurry to keep up with her brisk pace. She led you through the maze of hallways and doors until you arrived at Taehyung's dressing room.

"Knock and enter," she instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument. You took a deep breath and did as you were told, your heart thumping in your chest as the door swung open. Taehyung was sitting in front of the mirror, his eyes focused on his reflection as he applied his makeup.

"You're here," he said, not bothering to look up. His voice was cool, almost dismissive.

"Ye-yeah," you managed to say, your voice shaking slightly. You stepped into the room, feeling like you were intruding on a sacred space.

Taehyung's manager nodded curtly before turning to leave. "Remember, she's your responsibility," she tossed over her shoulder, the clack of her heels echoing down the hallway.

Alone with Taehyung, you felt a wave of anxiety wash over you. You took a deep breath and stepped closer to him, trying to compose yourself. "Taehyung-ssi," you began, using the formal address. "What would you like me to do first?"

He looked up at you through the mirror, his gaze meeting yours with a piercing intensity that made your stomach flutter. "You can start by calling me Tae," he said, his voice low and smooth. "We're going to be spending a lot of time together, and that formality is going to get old really fast."

You nodded, trying to hide your nerves. "Okay, Tae," you said, your voice a whisper.

He turned to face you, setting his makeup brush down. "Now, listen carefully," he began, his eyes never leaving yours. "I expect you to take care of every little thing. That means my food, my clothes, my schedule-everything. Do you think you can handle that?"

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words. "Y-yes," you stuttered, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'll do my best."

Taehyung's gaze softened slightly, his expression unreadable. "Good," he said, standing up. He approached you, his tall frame looming over you, making you feel even smaller than you already did. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. "Because if you don't," he whispered, his breath tickling your neck, "you'll have to deal with me."

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you nodded again, trying to ignore the shiver that danced down your spine. As he pulled away, you took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. "I'll make sure everything is perfect," you assured him, your voice stronger than before.

Taehyung's eyes searched yours for a moment before he nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Good," he said, his voice still low. "Now, it's time for my workout. You're coming with me."

You blinked, surprised by his sudden change of subject. "Workout?" you repeated, your voice still shaky.

"Yes," Taehyung said, his tone firm as he grabbed a towel and headed for the door. "You're my assistant now. That means you're part of the team, and the team takes care of each other."

You quickly followed, your thoughts racing. This was definitely not what you had expected your first day as a personal assistant to be like. As you entered the gym, the other members looked up from their various workout stations, their eyes widening when they saw you. Jungkook was bench pressing weights, his muscles straining under the effort, while Jimin was doing pull-ups, his abs rippling with each smooth motion.

Jimin's eyes met yours, a smug smile playing on his lips as he winked. Your face grew hot, and you felt your cheeks redden under his scrutiny. You looked away, your gaze settling on Jungkook, who had paused mid-lift, his eyes narrowing at the sight of you. The room seemed to close in on you, the air thick with unspoken tension.

"Y/N," Taehyung's voice broke through the silence, and you jumped slightly. He was standing in front of you, a towel slung over his shoulder. "Could you get me some water and food, please?" he asked, his tone still casual despite the intensity of his gaze.

You nodded, eager to have something to do to distract yourself from the tension in the room. "Of course," you said, your voice still shaky.

As you turned to leave, J-Hope called after you. "Hey, Y/N, if you don't have a problem with it, could you grab some food for us?" His smile was genuine, and it helped to ease some of the tension coiled in your stomach.

Taehyung's gaze flicked over to J-Hope, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Hyung," he said, his voice low. "She's my personal assistant."

J-Hope chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, come on, Tae," he said, walking over to you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You don't mind, do you?"

You looked between them, feeling torn. "No," you said finally, managing a small smile. "It's fine."

With that, J-Hope turned to Jungkook, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Great, we're all set for lunch then!"

Yet as you took a step toward the gym exit, Jungkook's voice stopped you cold. "Hey, Kitty," he called out, his tone smooth like velvet over gravel. You felt his hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you gently but firmly into his dressing room. The door clicked shut behind you, and suddenly the world outside felt very far away.

"Miss Stalker," Jungkook murmured, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly. His voice was low and playful, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "What did you do to make Taehyung interested in you?"

You tried to pull away, but his grasp was firm. "I didn't do anything," you protested, feeling your face heat up. "I'm not a stalker."

Jungkook's smile grew wider, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, I know," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's just so convenient that you're suddenly Tae's personal assistant." He released your wrist, his hands moving to your shoulders instead, turning you to face him. "What did you do to charm him?"

You rolled your eyes, his words grating on your nerves. "I don't have to explain myself to you," you said firmly, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Jungkook's smile grew into a full-blown grin, his eyes lighting up with mischief. "I'm just saying," he said, his thumbs rubbing circles on your shoulders, "you've got some spunk in you."

You stared at him, his words sinking in. "What do you mean by that?" you asked, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Jungkook stepped closer, his grin never wavering. "Just what I said," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "I want to be the first to claim everything of yours, kitty." His hands slid down your arms to your waist, his grip firm and possessive. "Your first kiss, your virginity-everything."

You pushed against his chest, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing. "What makes you think I'd ever agree to that?" you demanded, your voice shaking with anger and fear. Jungkook's smile grew even wider, his eyes gleaming with excitement at your challenge.

"Be my girlfriend, Y/N," Jungkook murmured, his breath hot against your neck as he pulled you closer. His eyes searched yours, a smug certainty in his gaze that you would happily throw yourself at him at the mere mention of the word 'relationship'.

But you had had enough. You stepped back, planting your hands firmly on his chest and pushing him away. "I'm sorry, Jungkook," you said, your voice steady despite the tremble in your hands. "I'm not interested."

Jungkook's smile faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowing in surprise. "What?" he repeated, as if he hadn't heard you correctly.

"I said," you emphasized, taking another step back, "I'm not interested in you that way." You turned to leave, the need to escape his overbearing presence growing more urgent with each passing second.

"Wait," Jungkook's voice stopped you again, this time softer, with a hint of confusion. "What do you mean?" His hands fell to his sides, his eyes searching yours for an explanation.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain without causing a scene. "I mean that I'm here to do my job," you said firmly, "and that's it." You stepped around him, heading for the door. "I need to get back to work."

The day passed in a blur of activity, with Taehyung's schedule keeping you on your toes. Every time he got a little too close, your heart would stumble in your chest, the memory of Jungkook's words echoing in your mind. You tried to focus on the tasks at hand, but it was difficult with the constant reminder of the tension that had settled in the air.

As Taehyung moved from one appointment to the next, you found yourself acutely aware of his proximity. His hand brushing against yours as you passed him a water bottle, his breath ghosting over your ear when he whispered instructions-each touch sent your pulse racing, and you couldn't help but wonder if he noticed your reaction.

In the back of your mind, you knew you were walking a fine line between professional and personal. But every time Taehyung's eyes met yours, filled with an intensity that seemed to see straight through you, you felt like you were teetering on the edge of something much more dangerous.

As the day drew to a close and the last of the meetings were over, you found yourself walking home, lost in thought. Jungkook's words played on repeat in your head: "Your first kiss, your virginity-everything." Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you remembered how confident he'd been, as if he already owned you. But the realization that hit you like a sledgehammer was the fact that Jimin had seen you at your most vulnerable-without clothes, and in a state of panic. Had he really stolen your first kiss? The thought made your stomach twist into knots.

Your phone rang, jolting you out of your thoughts. You fumbled in your pocket and pulled it out, your heart skipping a beat when you saw Taehyung's name on the screen. You took a deep breath and answered, "Hello?"

"Where are you?" His voice was urgent, a hint of something else that you couldn't quite place.

"I'm on my way home," you replied, your voice shaky. You didn't dare ask why he was calling you so late.

"Come to my house," Taehyung said, his voice brooking no argument. "I'm sending you the address."

The line went dead, and you stared at your phone in shock. What had just happened? You had no idea why he would want you to come to his house, but you knew you couldn't refuse. With trembling hands, you typed in the address he had sent and hoped for the best.

When you finally arrived at Taehyung's sleek, modern abode, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and dread. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever was about to come next. The door swung open before you had a chance to knock, and Taehyung's cool gaze met yours. He looked as unflappable as ever, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes-curiosity, maybe?

"You're here," he said, his voice as smooth as the marble floors beneath your feet. He stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter. "Come in."

You took a tentative step over the threshold, your eyes scanning the opulent space. The living room was vast, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of the city lights. A grand piano sat in the corner, looking untouched and gleaming under the soft glow of the pendant lights above. The place screamed wealth and success, and you felt more out of place than ever.

Taehyung's smile grew wider as he closed the door behind you. "You know, it's your first day as my personal assistant," he said, his tone teasing. "And you haven't done your job properly."

You blinked, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice small.

Taehyung's smile grew, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "I told you," he repeated, his eyes twinkling as he stepped closer. "Your duty is to take care of me. And that includes cooking for me."

You blinked up at him, feeling the heat from his body seeping into yours. "But I thought personal assistants didn't do that," you protested weakly.

Taehyung stepped closer, his Tae Tae face in full force-eyes wide, smile hopeful. "Please, Y/N," he said, his voice dripping with sweetness. "You saw what happened today. The fans, the interviews-it was overwhelming."

You couldn't help but melt a little at his pleading. The Tae Tae face was legendary among ARMYs for its ability to get what it wanted, and now it was directed at you. "Okay," you relented, your voice barely a whisper. "What would you like me to cook?"

"Anything," Taehyung said, his smile growing even wider. "But I trust your judgment. Surprise me."

You nodded, feeling a flutter of excitement in your stomach. You had always loved cooking, and the thought of cooking for Taehyung was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. You followed him into the kitchen, your eyes taking in the state-of-the-art appliances and the spotless countertops. Taehyung pulled out a chair for you at the kitchen island, watching as you perused the fridge and cabinets for ingredients.

After much deliberation, you decided on a simple but flavorful meal: stir-fried noodles with chicken and vegetables. You moved with quiet confidence around the kitchen, your movements sure and precise as you chopped and sautéed. Taehyung remained in the background, his eyes never leaving you. You could feel his gaze like a warm embrace, but you tried to ignore it, focusing on the task at hand.

Once the food was ready, you placed a steaming plate in front of him, your heart racing as you awaited his reaction. Taehyung took a bite, his eyes closing in pleasure. "This is amazing," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "I can't believe you cooked this."

You ducked your head, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "Thank you," you mumbled, trying to ignore the way your stomach flip-flopped at his praise.

He took another bite, his eyes opening to meet yours. "Every time I get hungry," he said, his voice low and earnest, "I want you to cook for me, okay?"

You looked up from your plate, surprise coloring your features. "But, Tae," you began, unsure how to voice your concerns without offending him.

Taehyung's eyes searched yours, his expression unyielding. "Please, Y/N," he said, placing the spoon in his mouth and speaking around the mouthful of noodles. "You have no idea how much I enjoyed this."

You nodded, watching as he took another bite, his eyes never leaving yours. "Okay," you agreed, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. As much as you wanted to deny it, the idea of cooking for him, taking care of him, filled you with a strange sense of warmth. It was as if you were giving him a piece of yourself, a part of your love for him, wrapped up in every bite.

As you both ate in relative silence, your thoughts swirled around you like a tornado. How had this happened? You had only been his assistant for a day, and already you were cooking for him in his own home. And not just any home-this was Taehyung's personal sanctuary, a place you never thought you'd see outside of a glossy magazine spread.

You found yourself staring at him, his every move mesmerizing. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed at something on his phone, the gentle curve of his smile when he took another bite of your food, the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed-it was all too much. You knew you couldn't love someone like Taehyung, not when he was so out of reach. But the way your heart felt in your chest, the way your stomach fluttered every time he looked at you-it was hard to deny that what you felt was anything short of love.

Yet, you also knew that you couldn't cross that line. You were his assistant, not his girlfriend. You had to keep your feelings in check, no matter how much your heart screamed otherwise. You took a deep breath, pushing the thought away as you cleared the dishes. "I should be going," you said softly, trying to ignore the way your voice cracked with unshed emotion.

Taehyung looked up at you, his expression unreadable. "You don't have to," he said, his voice gentle. "You can stay."

You felt your heart skip a beat at the invitation. Stay here, in his house? With him? But you knew better.

Meanwhile at the gym, Jungkook was in the middle of an intense boxing practice with his coach. Each punch he threw was fueled by anger and frustration, the name 'Y/N' echoing in his thoughts like a mantra.

He remembered the way she had slapped him twice, and now, she had the audacity to reject his proposal. The room around him was a blur as he threw jab after jab, his fists connecting with the heavy bag with a satisfying thwack. The coach could see the rage in Jungkook's eyes and knew that he was on the edge of losing control.

"Take a break, Jungkook," the coach called out, his voice stern. Jungkook ignored him, his focus solely on the rhythm of his fists meeting the leather. The coach took a step closer, placing a firm hand on Jungkook's shoulder to stop him.

"I said, take a break," the coach repeated, his voice louder now. Jungkook spun around, his fist flying towards the coach's face. The coach barely had time to react before Jungkook's knuckles connected with his hand, the force of the blow making him wince.

"Jungkook!" The coach's voice was a mix of pain and surprise. Jungkook took a step back, his chest heaving as he stared at his coach's reddening hand. The room had gone silent, the only sound the echo of his fists hitting the bag.

"I'm sorry," Jungkook murmured, his voice tight with anger and regret. He turned away, not wanting to face the disappointment in the coach's eyes. He knew he had crossed a line-his possessive nature over Y/N had gotten the better of him. He needed to get a grip before he did something he would truly regret.

To be continued in the next chapter......

Masterlist

[sakshikim]

Whispers of obsession

A/N : Hello everyone thanks for returning for chapter 4 of whispers of obsession I hope you enjoy this installment

Chapter:4

You blinked in surprise, clutching your robe tightly around your body. "Jungkook, what are you doing here?" you demanded, your voice still groggy.

"I told you I'd be here," he said, pushing past you into the apartment. You stumbled backward, trying to maintain your balance as he invaded your personal space.

"Jungkook, you can't just come into my house like this," you protested, your voice still thick with sleep.

He turned to face you, his gaze dropping to your chest, a smug smirk playing on his lips. "It's so small," he murmured, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But don't worry, I'll take good care of it."

Your cheeks flushed, your hand flying to cover yourself as you squealed, "Pervert!"

Jungkook chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Dress up," he ordered again, pointing to the bedroom. "I'll wait."

"Why should I?" you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest. "You can't just barge in here and tell me what to do."

Jungkook's eyes narrowed, the playfulness in them fading to something darker. "Do you really want to find out how the ARMY would react if I posted a message saying you were stalking me?" His voice was low and dangerous, the smile on his lips a twisted imitation of its usual charm.

You felt a cold shiver run down your spine. You knew the power of the fan base; they could make or break someone with just a few tweets. "You wouldn't," you whispered, your eyes wide with fear.

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "But I would," he murmured, his voice a seductive purr. "So, be a good kitty and go dress up."

Your mind raced, weighing the horror of facing the wrath of the ARMY against the fear of what Jungkook might do if you didn't comply. You didn't know which was worse. "Fine," you hissed through gritted teeth, turning on your heel and stomping into the bedroom.

As you slammed the door shut, you heard his laughter echo through the apartment. It was infuriating, and you wanted nothing more than to throw something at him. But instead, you took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside you.

Your eyes fell on the posters that adorned your walls, the smiling faces of your favorite band members staring back at you. You felt a pang of embarrassment, knowing that Jungkook was out there, looking at your personal sanctuary. How could you have been so stupid?

When you emerged from the bedroom, Jungkook was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, a knowing smile on his face. He looked around the room, his gaze lingering on the BTS posters and merchandise that covered almost every surface. "So," he said, his voice a mix of amusement and something else he couldn't quite place. "You're an ARMY."

You felt a blush creep up your neck, your cheeks burning. "Yes," you admitted, your voice small. "But that doesn't mean I'll do whatever you say."

Jungkook's smile grew, his eyes glinting with challenge. "We'll see about that," he said, taking your hand. "Now, let's go. I've got a little surprise for you."

You felt a spark of anger ignite within you, but you didn't have the energy to argue. You followed him out of the apartment, his grip on your hand firm and possessive. He led you down to the street, where a sleek, black sedan was parked, the engine purring softly. The driver's door swung open, and he gestured for you to get in. You slid into the plush leather seat, the door closing with a soft thump behind you. Jungkook took the wheel, his eyes meeting yours in the rearview mirror.

"Where are we going?" you asked, your voice tight with tension.

Jungkook's smile grew wider. "A little place I know," he said, his grip on the steering wheel tight. "It's just for us."

Your stomach churned with nerves as the sedan pulled up to the curb in front of a fancy restaurant. The kind of place you had only ever seen in movies or read about in magazines. The kind of place where the menu had more French words than you could pronounce, and the dress code was definitely not your usual sweatpants and t-shirt.

Jungkook stepped out of the car, his movements fluid and graceful, as if this was a place he frequented often. He opened your door, offering his hand to help you out. You took it, feeling the warmth of his touch, and allowed yourself to be led inside.

The hostess's eyes widened at the sight of them, and she scurried over, her smile overly bright. "Welcome, Mr. Jeon," she gushed. "Your usual table is ready."

Jungkook nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "Thank you," he said, guiding you through the dimly lit space to a secluded booth in the back. The plush velvet seats enveloped them as they sat down, the low lighting casting a warm glow over the white linen tablecloth.

He handed you the menu, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Order whatever you love," he said, his voice a seductive purr. You scanned the options, your heart racing as you realized just how expensive everything was. A simple salad cost more than you made in a week at your internship.

"Jungkook, I can't," you protested, your voice shaking. "This is too much."

He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry about it, kitty," he whispered. "It's all on me."

The waiter appeared at their table, his eyes darting between them before focusing on Jungkook. "What can I get for you today, sir?"

"We'll have the chef's special," Jungkook said, his voice low and commanding. "And a bottle of your best wine." He didn't bother looking at the menu, his gaze fixed on you instead.

The waiter nodded and retreated, leaving them in a tension-filled silence. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours. "Now, tell me, kitty," he said, his voice a velvety purr. "How long have you been a part of the ARMY?"

You swallowed hard, your eyes darting around the room. "S-six years," you stuttered.

Jungkook's smile grew wider. "Interesting," he murmured. "And who's your favorite member, kitty?" His voice was a teasing caress, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

But before you could say another word, the waiter reappeared, setting down a large plate of steaming food. The aroma was heavenly, a mix of rich spices and sizzling meat that made your stomach growl. Jungkook chuckled at your reaction, his gaze never leaving yours. "I hope you're hungry," he said, his voice a dark promise.

The food was delicious, but you found it hard to enjoy it with Jungkook's eyes on you. You picked at your meal, your thoughts racing. How did you get yourself into this situation? And why was he being so... nice? It didn't add up. You had to get out of there.

With a forced smile, you gulped down the last bite and set your fork down. "Thank you, Jungkook," you said, your voice trembling slightly. "This was really... something. But I actually have to go now." You stood up so quickly that the chair scraped against the floor, the sound jolting through the quiet restaurant.

Jungkook's eyes narrowed, and you could see the surprise and annoyance in them. "But we just got here," he protested, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist.

You pulled away, your heart racing. "I know," you said, your voice shaking. "But I have an appointment." It was a lie, but you had to get away from him. The way he was looking at you made you feel like a caged animal, and you couldn't handle it anymore.

Without waiting for a response, you bolted from the restaurant. You didn't stop running until you were a few blocks away, your lungs burning and your legs feeling like jelly. You leaned against a lamppost, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

Your mind raced as you replayed the events of the morning. Jungkook's unwelcome visit, his smug smile, and the way he had so easily maneuvered you into this situation. It was all too much.

You decided that you needed to clear your head, so you headed towards the shopping district. The familiar sounds of the street brought you a small measure of comfort. You wandered aimlessly through the crowded streets, trying to blend in with the throngs of people.

In a small, street-side boutique, you picked up a dress that caught your eye. It was a simple, elegant piece, something you would never dare to wear in public. But as you held it against your body, a deep, amused voice whispered in your ear, "Your taste really is that bad."

Your heart jumped into your throat as you whirled around to face Jungkook, his eyes twinkling with mirth from behind a black mask and cap. "What are you doing here?" you hissed, your voice low so as not to attract attention.

"Shopping," he said, his tone flippant. "Is that not allowed?"

Your eyes widened as you noticed a small group of teenagers whispering and pointing in their direction. "Jungkook," you whispered urgently, tugging on his sleeve. "We need to leave. Now."

You took Jungkook's hand and pulled him into a sprint, your eyes darting around in panic. Jungkook, caught off guard, stumbled before catching up with you, his longer strides easily matching yours. "Why are we running?" he asked, breathless laughter in his voice.

"I think some people recognized you!" you hissed, your heart racing as you wove through the crowded street. The whispered squeals and gasps of the teenagers in the boutique had turned into a cacophony of excitement and camera clicks.

Jungkook chuckled, the sound deep and rich. "Oh, really?" He didn't sound concerned, more amused by your reaction. "Well, then, let's make this interesting." He took the lead, pulling you along behind him as he darted through the throngs of people, his grip on your hand firm and reassuring.

Before you knew it, they were ducking into a swanky hotel, the doors swishing shut behind them with a finality that sent another shiver down your spine. You glanced around the lobby, your eyes wide with surprise at the opulent surroundings. The gleaming marble floors and towering ceilings seemed to swallow them whole as they made their way to the elevators.

Jungkook didn't say a word, his grip on your hand tightening as they ascended to a floor that requires a keycard. He slid one into the slot, the green light flashing before the doors open to reveal a plush hallway. The air is thick with tension as they walked, the click of their shoes echoing off the walls.

Finally, they entered a room, and Jungkook locked the door behind them. You took in the space, your eyes darting around the room. It's not what you expected from a hotel suite; it's dimly lit with a strange array of items scattered about - candles, incense burners, and a set of handcuffs on the bedside table. Your heart raced as you tried to piece together the puzzle before you.

"Jungkook, don't you think this room is a little weird?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He walked over to the minibar, grabbing a bottle of water. Twisting the cap off, he took a long drink, watching you over the rim of the bottle. "What's weird, kitty?" he asked, his voice low and amused.

Your eyes fell to the bed, where a small, foil packet peeked out from the folded bedspread. "Oh, there," you said, reaching for it. "They give out free tea bags?"

Jungkook's laugh echoed through the room, a deep, rich sound that made your heart stumble in your chest. "Those aren't tea bags, kitty," he corrected, his voice low and smug. "They're condoms."

Your eyes widened in horror, your cheeks burning as you stared at the small foil packet in your hand. "What?" you squeaked, your eyes darting to the bed again, the implications of their presence hitting you like a sledgehammer.

With a dramatic flourish, you threw the condom at him. It hit Jungkook square in the face, sticking to his cheek as he spluttered in surprise. He pulled it away, his eyes glinting with amusement as he looked at you, the laughter bubbling in his chest.

"What's this... thing doing here?" you asked, your voice shaking as you held out the condom. You couldn't believe you were having this conversation.

Jungkook wiped the condom from his cheek, his laughter dying down. "If a love hotel doesn't have condoms, what's the point?" he retorted, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"Love hotel?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. The reality of the situation was sinking in, and you felt your stomach churn.

Jungkook's eyes widened in mock surprise, his hand coming to his chest. "Oh, you've never been to one before?" he teased, his voice a soft purr.

"It's not important now," you mumbled, your face burning red as you avoided Jungkook's gaze. "Why did you bring me to this... love hotel?" The words felt foreign and awkward on your tongue.

Jungkook shrugged, his eyes never leaving you. "Look around," he said, gesturing to the room. "There's an office building, a shopping mall, a cafe, a game center. So it's the perfect place to hide." His voice was low and soothing, as if he were explaining a simple fact. "And it's safe here."

"I'm leaving," you announced, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear.

Jungkook's smile didn't waver as he took a step closer to you. "Go ahead," he said, his voice like a silky threat. "But don't forget, there are people outside." His eyes flicked to the door, and you could see the challenge in them.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the reality of his words sinking in. If you tried to leave now, you'd be bombarded by fans and paparazzi, and you had no doubt Jungkook would make sure they knew you were with him. You felt trapped, like a butterfly pinned to a board, and you hated it.

With a resigned sigh, you said, "Fine," trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Jungkook's eyes lit up at your acquiescence, and you felt his gaze rake over you from feet to head, making your skin crawl. He didn't move to touch you, but his very presence was suffocating.

Needing a distraction, you reached for the TV remote and fumbled with the buttons. To your horror, a porn video flickered to life on the screen, the sounds of passion filling the room. Your face burned as you frantically tried to turn it off, but your trembling hands only succeeded in turning the volume up.

Jungkook's laughter was the last thing you expected, the rich, full sound bouncing off the walls as he watched your panic. "Relax, kitty," he said, his voice full of mirth. "It's just a little entertainment."

Your humiliation reached new heights, and you wanted to crawl under the bed and die. But instead, you took a deep breath and yanked the plug out of the wall, the TV screen going dark. The sudden silence was deafening, and you could feel Jungkook's gaze on you, his eyes gleaming with something you didn't dare name.

Your heart racing, you grabbed the first thing you saw - a glossy room service catalog. "How about we order something to eat?" you suggested, your voice shaking slightly. "It's been a while since breakfast."

Jungkook's eyes lit up with mischief as he took the catalog from you. "Oh, you've picked the wrong one, kitty," he said, his voice a low purr as he flipped through the pages.

You leaned over to see what he was looking at, and your eyes widened in shock. The pages were filled with explicit images of adult toys and lingerie. Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and you snatched the catalog away, your hands shaking. "This isn't what I meant!" you squeaked.

Jungkook's laugh was warm and deep, the sound sending a strange thrill through your body despite the situation. "Relax, kitty," he said, his voice soothing. "You can play normal games here too." He gestured to the game console on the shelf, a collection of innocent-looking video games next to it.

Your eyes followed his hand, the tension in the room easing slightly at his words. "Really?" you asked, your voice hopeful. Anything to get your mind off the darker implications of their surroundings.

Jungkook nodded, his smile never wavering as he picked up a controller. "Choose your weapon," he said, holding out the game selection.

Your eyes darted over the titles, your mind racing. "How about...uh, Super Smash Bros?" you suggested, hoping that you'd at least be decent at a game you'd played before.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You think you can beat me at my own game?" he challenged, his voice a playful taunt.

"Well, I have to try," you said, trying to sound braver than you felt. You took the controller, your palms already starting to sweat.

They played for hours, the tension between them easing as they shouted and laughed over the video game battles. But every time, Jungkook emerged the victor, his reflexes lightning-fast and his strategies unpredictable. You couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and annoyance at his skill.

"How do you do it?" you finally asked, throwing your controller down in frustration.

Jungkook smirked, his eyes never leaving the screen. "Practice," he said, his thumbs dancing over the controller. "And maybe a bit of natural talent."

You scoffed, crossing your arms. "Is there anything you're not good at?"

He paused the game, his gaze shifting to meet yours. "Plenty of things," he said, his voice serious. "But I don't let anyone see those."

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. It was the first time he'd shown anything other than confidence and arrogance. The vulnerability in his eyes was surprising, and it made your heart ache for him.

"Like what?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Jungkook leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Let's just say that when I'm in bed, it's not all sweetness and light," he said, his eyes darkening with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly turned your attention back to the game. "I think we should stick to the games," you said, your voice firm despite the sudden heat in the room.

Jungkook chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "As you wish, kitty," he said, his voice a low purr. He picked up his controller and continued to play, his movements deceptively casual.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of video games, laughter, and surprisingly friendly banter. Jungkook was a fierce competitor, but he was also surprisingly patient when explaining strategies and offering hints. You found yourself enjoying the time spent with him, despite the dark cloud that hung over their situation.

As the sun began to set, Jungkook's stomach rumbled, reminding them both that they hadn't eaten since the awkward breakfast at the restaurant. He set down his controller and picked up the room service menu, scanning it with a practiced eye. "I'll order us some food," he said, his voice still playful.

You nodded, your eyes glazed with exhaustion. "And some juice, please," you added, your voice faint. Jungkook raised an eyebrow but said nothing, picking up the phone to place the order.

After the food arrived, they continued playing games, the tension in the air dissipating with every laugh and playful taunt. Jungkook ordered a bottle of wine with their meal, and you, assuming it was just for show, didn't think twice about sipping from the glass he offered you. It was sweet, and you liked the way it made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Before you knew it, the room was spinning, and your eyes grew heavy. Jungkook's voice grew distant as he continued to speak, but you couldn't focus on his words. "Y/N?" he heard him say, his voice tinged with concern. But it was too late; you had already succumbed to the wine's potent embrace, your body going limp against the couch cushions.

Jungkook's eyes widened as he realized you had fallen asleep. He set the controller down, his heart racing as he leaned over you. "Kitty, wake up," he murmured, gently shaking your shoulder. But you remained unresponsive, your breathing deep and even.

With a sigh, he scooped you into his arms, your slight weight surprisingly comforting. He carried you out of the hotel, his eyes scanning the lobby for any signs of recognition. Thankfully, the fans and paparazzi had thinned out, and he was able to make his way to the parking garage without incident. He placed you in the backseat of his car, your head lolling to the side.

Once in his penthouse, Jungkook took you to the guest room. He laid you down gently on the bed, taking a moment to appreciate the softness of your features in the dim light. Your long lashes fluttered against your cheeks as you slept peacefully, your full lips slightly parted.

Jungkook sat on the edge of the bed, watching you for a few moments longer. With a quiet sigh, he stood up and moved to the door.

Before leaving, he took one last look at you. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting shadows across your face. He reached out, his fingertips grazing the hem of your shirt, then thought better of it. With a final, lingering glance, he stepped out, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

The next morning, the harsh light of the sun pierced through your eyelids, and you slowly blinked your eyes open. Your head felt like it was full of cotton, and you had the faint taste of wine on your lips. You sat up, your body feeling heavy and uncoordinated. It took you a moment to remember where you were, and when you did, your heart raced.

Your eyes widened in shock when you saw Taehyung's sleeping form next to you in the bed. For a moment, you thought you must be dreaming. Carefully, you reached out and touched his face, his skin warm and smooth beneath your fingertips. His eyes snapped open, and he looked at you with a mix of confusion and surprise.

"What are you doing here?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. His hand shot out to pin your wrist to the mattress, his grip firm but not painful. "What game are you playing, getting into Jungkook's bed?"

Your heart raced as you tried to pull away from his grasp. "I-I don't know," you stammered, your mind racing. "Last I remember, I was in the love hotel with Jungkook, and then everything went black."

Taehyung's eyes narrowed as he sat up, his gaze piercing through the morning light. "Oh," he said, his voice cold and flat. "You're another one of Jungkook's playing girls." His words were like a slap to your face, leaving you stunned and hurt.

You tried to protest, your voice shaking with fear and embarrassment. "No, I'm not," you whispered, your eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Just shut up," Taehyung said, his voice like ice as he sat up in the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. "I know your type of girls very well." His eyes swept over you, and you could see the disdain in them. "But you dare to come into my bed?"

You started crying, the weight of his accusations too much to bear. You felt like you were drowning in his contempt, and you couldn't find the words to explain. "Please, I'm not," you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I never kissed anyone. I don't know how I got here."

Taehyung watched you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he reached out and wiped away your tears with his thumb, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Stop crying," he said, his voice softer now. "You're not making any sense."

Jungkook's voice echoed through the room, a mix of amusement and annoyance. "Ah, Taehyung, you always know how to make a girl cry," he said, his eyes flicking from you to his bandmate.

Taehyung shot him a glare, his grip on your wrist loosening slightly. "It's not like that," he said, his voice tight.

"Stop crying, kitty," Jungkook said, his voice a mix of amusement and annoyance as he leaned against the doorframe. His eyes danced with mischief as he took in Taehyung's tense posture and your tear-stained face. "Taehyung is like that with everyone."

Your eyes snapped up to him, and you yanked your hand away. "Stop calling me 'kitty'!" you spat out, your voice shaky with anger. You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand, feeling more humiliated than ever.

Jungkook's smile never wavered. "BTW, what are you doing in my house?" he asked, his tone casual.

Taehyung rolled his eyes and sighed. "I was tired after practice last night. Your place was the nearest, and I didn't know she was already here," he replied, his voice tight. "I just crashed in the guest room. Didn't know she was in there."

Jungkook's grin grew wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ah, so that's why you're in my bed, kitty," he said, his voice dripping with innuendo.

You felt a surge of anger and embarrassment. "Why did you bring me here?" you demanded, your voice shaking.

Jungkook's smile didn't falter as he shrugged. "You fell asleep, and I didn't want to leave you in that love hotel," he said, his tone light. "It's not exactly the safest place for a girl like you."

Your eyes narrowed. "A girl like me?" you echoed, your voice icy.

"You know," he said, his eyes sweeping over you. "Sweet, kind, and obviously inexperienced."

Your cheeks burned with indignation, and before you could stop yourself, you picked up a pillow and threw it at him. "Pervert!" you shouted.

But your aim was off, and the pillow smacked Taehyung square in the face as he rose from the bed, his eyes snapping to yours. "What the fuck?" he growled.

Your heart raced as you stared up at him, his eyes like twin storm clouds. "I-I didn't mean to," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook's smirk grew wider as he plucked the pillow from Taehyung's hand. "Look at you, getting feisty," he said, his voice a low purr. "But you have to be more careful, kitty. You might hurt someone with those wild swings."

You ignored his teasing and glanced at the clock, your heart sinking when you saw the time. "Oh no," you murmured, your voice barely audible. "I'm so late for work."

Jungkook's smirk grew as he caught your gaze. "Don't worry, kitty," he said, his voice like velvet. "I'll drop you off."

Taehyung looked over from where he was rummaging through Jungkook's fridge. "Jungkook," he called out, "order something, I'm starving."

Jungkook's expression tightened as he checked his phone. "Shit," he muttered, his thumb scrolling through the screen. "They're all backed up. It's going to take forever."

You sat up straighter, pushing the blankets aside. "I can cook something if you guys don't mind," you offered, your voice shaking slightly. "I've got to be quick, though."

Jungkook's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "You can cook?"

"Yeah," you said, your voice small. "It's my passion."

Taehyung looked over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised. "Well, then cook fast," he said, his voice laced with challenge.

You nodded, slipping out of bed and making your way to the kitchen. You moved quickly, your mind racing with recipes you could whip up in a flash. You decided on pancakes, eggs, and bacon – simple, filling, and quick. You found all the necessary ingredients in Jungkook's well-stocked pantry and got to work, your hands shaking slightly from the hangover and the tension in the air.

Jungkook and Taehyung watched you with a mix of curiosity and amusement, their eyes never leaving you as you moved around the kitchen. You could feel their gazes on you, and it only added to your anxiety.

In record time, you had a steaming stack of pancakes, perfectly golden eggs, and crispy bacon sizzling on a plate. You set it down on the kitchen counter, your hands trembling slightly as you offered it to them. "Here," you said, your voice small.

Taehyung and Jungkook stared at the food, their eyes wide with surprise. "You're really good," Jungkook said, his voice genuine as he took a bite of the pancake. His eyes closed in pleasure, and you felt a small burst of pride.

Taehyung grabbed a piece of bacon and popped it into his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. "Mm," he murmured, his eyes darkening slightly. "This is amazing."

"Thank you by the way, Taehyung," you said, your voice still shaking slightly. "How was that strawberry cake?"

The tension in the room was palpable, but Taehyung's eyes softened at your question. "It was really tasty," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a strange warmth through you.

Jungkook's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. "That cake," he started, his voice filled with accusation, but before he could finish his sentence, Taehyung's foot connected with his shin with a sharp crack.

"Ow!" Jungkook yelped, his eyes watering with pain. He glared at Taehyung, rubbing his leg. "What the fuck, hyung?"

Taehyung's smile was cold as ice as he met Jungkook's gaze. "You're welcome," he said, his eyes never leaving you. "Now, let's eat before it gets cold."

Later that evening at BigHit, you sat at your desk, your mind racing. The encounter with Jungkook and Taehyung played on repeat in your mind, leaving you feeling like a yo-yo of emotions. The quiet hum of the office was a stark contrast to the chaos of the past few hours. You tried to focus on the paperwork in front of you, but it was like trying to read through a fog.

"Y/N," Minseo's voice broke through the silence, making you jump. "The CEO wants to see you."

Your heart plummeted to your stomach, and you could feel the blood drain from your face. "M-me?" you stuttered, your voice shaking. "Why?"

Minseo gave you a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry," she said, her voice soothing. "I'm sure it's nothing bad. You've been working hard lately."

You nodded, trying to convince yourself that everything was fine, but you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in your chest. You stood up on wobbly legs and followed Minseo to the CEO's office, your mind racing with scenarios of what might await you.

The CEO's door was open, and you could see him sitting at his desk, his eyes focused on a stack of papers. His expression was unreadable as you approached, but the way he looked up at you made your knees feel like jelly.

"Come in, Y/N," he said, his voice firm. "Close the door behind you."

Your heart raced as you stepped into the plush office, the sound of the door clicking shut echoing in your ears like a gunshot. The CEO looked up from his paperwork and offered you a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk.

The CEO leaned back in his chair, his gaze piercing through you. "We've decided to offer you a permanent position," he said, his tone final. "You'll be one of BTS's personal assistants."

You felt like you had been punched in the gut. "But I'm just an intern," you managed to croak out. "My resume isn't even for being a personal assistant."

The CEO's smile grew wider, but it was cold, like a shark's smile. "You can't deny the offer," he said, his eyes glinting. "It's a special request. From someone very important."

"From who?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

To be continued in the next chapter......

Masterlist

[sakshikim]

Whispers of obsession

A/N : Hello everyone thanks for returning for chapter 3 of whispers of obsession. I hope you enjoy this installment.

Chapter: 3

The next morning, you awoke with a splitting headache, the events of the previous night a blur in your mind. You squinted in the bright sunlight streaming through the curtains, your hand automatically reaching for your phone on the nightstand. The room was unfamiliar, and you groaned as you sat up, the hangover hitting you like a truck. "What time is it?" you mumbled to yourself, your voice thick with sleep.

Your eyes widened with horror as you looked down at yourself. You were naked, the bed sheets tangled around your legs. "Why am I naked?" you whispered, your heart racing. The room spun around you as you tried to piece together the fragments of your memory.

All you could remember was the fight, the anger, and the fear. "I can't believe I fought with him," you murmured, your mind racing. "But who was it?" Your thoughts were a jumbled mess, the alcohol from last night playing havoc with your recollections. The only clear thought that stood out was your desperate plea. "I can't lose my virginity like this," you had said, your voice a feeble whisper.

But then you heard it - the sound of running water. You froze, your heart pounding in your chest. The shower was on. Someone was in there.

With shaking hands, you managed to wrap the bedsheet around your body, the fabric clinging to your curves like a second skin. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing pulse, and tiptoed towards the bathroom door. You peeked through the crack, your eyes not daring to meet his. All you could see was the silhouette of a man, his broad shoulders and muscular back, water cascading down his skin.

Your cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and anger. How could you have been so stupid? So naive? You had let yourself be swept up in the moment, and now you were paying the price. "It's that guy," you murmured to yourself, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. "The one who...deflowered me."

With renewed urgency, you scanned the floor, your eyes searching for any trace of your clothes. Spotting a shirt thrown haphazardly over the back of a chair, you grabbed it, pulling it over your head. The fabric was too large, hanging off your slender frame like a tent, but you didn't care. All you wanted was to get out of there.

But as you were about to sneak out, you paused. An idea took root in your mind, a tiny spark of defiance. You weren't going to let him get away with this, not without leaving a piece of yourself behind. Stumbling over to the desk, you grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. Your hand shook as you scribbled down your thoughts, the anger lending you a sense of clarity you hadn't felt in hours. "I don't enjoy it," you wrote, the words coming out in jagged strokes. "You're really weak." You paused, your lip curling in disgust. "This is for you," you continued. "Hope we don't meet again."

With the note in hand, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the crumpled wad of cash you had brought with you. It wasn't much, but it was all you had. Placing it next to the paper.

You took one last look around the room, your heart racing. You didn't want to think about what had happened here. All you wanted was to leave, to put as much distance between yourself and this hotel room as possible.

With a deep breath, you slipped out into the hallway, the cool air a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the room you had just left. You stumbled down the corridor, your bare feet silent on the plush carpet.

Sometime later, Jimin stepped out of the shower, his mood the worst it had been in a long time. He had been looking forward to a night of fun and distraction, but it had ended up being the worst one-night stand he could have ever imagined. The girl had been sweet, sure, but she had thrown up on him. The smell of vomit clung to his skin like a toxic reminder of his failure to charm her.

Jimin wrapped a towel around his waist and looked around the room, his eyes scanning for any sign of her. "Where is she?" he murmured to himself, his voice filled with annoyance. The bed was empty, the sheets a tangled mess where she had been. He sighed, resigning himself to the fact that she had probably left while he was in the bathroom.

But then he saw it, a small piece of paper on the bedside table. He picked it up with a flick of his wrist, his eyes narrowing as he read the jagged scrawl. "I don't enjoy it," the note began. "You're really weak." His blood boiled at the words. "This is for you. Hope we don't meet again." A crumpled wad of cash lay beside it, and Jimin felt his jaw clench. How dare she? He had never felt so humiliated.

Jimin crumpled the note in his fist, his eyes flashing with anger. "You will pay for this," he murmured, his voice low and menacing. He couldn't believe the audacity of this intern, treating him like some common thug who had taken something from her. He was Park Jimin, one of the most desired men in Korea, and she had the gall to belittle him?

You arrived at BigHit feeling slightly better after a much-needed freshening up at home. You had barely slept, haunted by the events of the previous night. As you waited for the elevator, you replayed the moments in your head, trying to understand what had happened. The doors opened with a ding, and you stepped inside, eager to get to your workstation and bury yourself in your job. But before the doors could close, Jungkook slipped in, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn't quite place.

"Good morning, my kitty," he purred, his voice dripping with a possessive charm that made your skin crawl. You stiffened, your grip on the elevator's handrail tightening. You had hoped to avoid seeing him today, but fate seemed to have other plans.

Ignoring the way Jungkook's eyes raked over you, you kept your gaze fixed on the elevator's display, counting the floors as they ascended. "Please, stop looking at me," you murmured, your voice as cold as ice.

Jungkook's smile grew, his eyes gleaming with challenge as he leaned closer. "Why?" he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't you like the attention?"

Your face flushed a deeper shade of red, and you gritted your teeth. "Please," you said, your voice trembling with effort as you forced the words out, "maintain some distance."

Jungkook's smirk grew, and he leaned even closer, invading your personal space. "Or what?" he whispered, his breath hot on your neck. You could feel his body heat, and it made you want to scream.

But before you could respond, his eyes caught something, and his smile dropped. His hand shot out, his thumb brushing against the side of your neck. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, his voice tight with anger.

You gasped, your hand flying to your neck, feeling the tender bruise you hadn't noticed before. "It's none of your business," you spat out, your voice shaking with a mix of fear and anger.

Jungkook's eyes narrowed, his grip on the handrail tightening. "Everything about you is my business now, kitten," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Now tell me, who put this mark on you?"

You swallowed hard, your eyes flicking to the elevator's display. Only one more floor to go. "I fell in the bathroom," you lied, your voice shaking. "It's nothing."

Jungkook's gaze bore into yours, his eyes searching for any hint of deception. "Are you telling the truth, kitten?" His voice was a low growl, and you could feel his anger simmering just beneath the surface.

"Y-yes," you stuttered, your heart racing. "I slipped and hit my neck."

Jungkook's expression darkened. "You're not a very good liar," he murmured, his thumb tracing the bruise lightly. You winced, trying to pull away from his touch.

The elevator dinged, announcing your arrival at the top floor. Your eyes widened as the doors slid open. "I'm not lying," you said firmly, pushing past him. He stepped aside, his eyes never leaving yours, and you stumbled out into the hallway. You didn't dare look back, your heart racing as you hurried down the corridor.

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows of the BigHit cafeteria, casting a warm glow over the bustling room. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You had made it through the morning somehow, but the encounter with Jungkook had left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. You had hoped to avoid seeing anyone else from the group today, especially after the disaster of last night. But as you sat down with your lunch, Minseo slid into the chair across from you, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"So," Minseo began, her voice light and teasing, "where did you disappear to last night?"

You felt your cheeks heat up. You took a bite of your sandwich, hoping to avoid the question. But Minseo's gaze was unwavering, waiting for an answer. "Oh, just... home," you mumbled, your eyes focused on your plate.

Minseo's laughter was like a melody, light and airy, filling the space between them. "You know you can tell me anything," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I won't judge."

You looked up, your eyes meeting Minseo's, the memory of the crumpled note and the wad of cash hitting you like a slap in the face. "It's just... I had a bit too much to drink, and I don't remember much," you admitted, your voice small. "But I think I might have made a mistake."

Minseo's eyes grew serious, her laughter fading. "What do you mean?" she asked gently, leaning closer.

You took a deep breath, the words spilling out in a rush. "I think I might have had a one-night stand," you whispered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "And I left a note and money for the guy."

Minseo's eyes grew wide, and she couldn't help but let out a giggle before slapping a hand over her mouth. "Oh my god, you're serious?" she said, her voice filled with astonishment. "You left money for a one-night stand?"

You nodded, your eyes downcast. "I didn't know what else to do," you murmured. "I was so embarrassed and just wanted to get out of there."

Minseo leaned back in her chair, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, you're certainly full of surprises," she said, her voice filled with laughter. "But seriously, it's not a big deal. It happens to the best of us."

Your cheeks burned hotter than the sun outside. "It's not funny," you protested, your voice shaking. "It was my first time, and I don't even know who it was."

Minseo's smile faded, and she reached across the table to squeeze your hand. "I'm sorry," she said, her tone more serious now. "But are you okay? Any pain down there?"

You nodded, wincing at the question. "My head hurts," you said, your voice barely a whisper. "But other than that, I'm... I'm okay."

Minseo studied you, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Do you remember anything at all?" she asked gently.

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on you. "No," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Minseo's expression grew solemn, her eyes searching your face. "You don't have to tell me," she said softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "But if you ever need to talk, I'm here."

You nodded, your eyes filling with tears. "Thank you," you murmured.

Just then, Minseo's phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a message. She glanced down, her eyes widening. "Oh no," she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "I'm so sorry, but I've got to go. Something's come up." She leaned over the table, her eyes filled with genuine concern. "Don't stress too much, okay? We'll talk about it later."

With a quick peck on the cheek, she was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You took a sip of your coffee, the bitter taste doing nothing to calm your nerves. As you sat there, lost in your thoughts, you heard a commotion by the entrance to the cafeteria. Jimin strutted in, his eyes scanning the room. His gaze landed on you, and a smug smile played on his lips. "Everyone out," he announced, his voice cutting through the chatter.

The room grew still as the employees looked up, confused. "Now," he emphasized, his tone leaving no room for argument. The cafeteria began to empty, a tide of murmurs and whispers following the retreating staff. Your heart raced as you gathered your things, ready to leave. But as you stood, Jimin's eyes locked on you, and he jerked his head in a clear gesture for you to stay. "Not you," he said, his voice low and commanding.

Your knees felt like jelly as you sat back down. What did he want? You watched as the last of the staff filed out, the doors swinging shut behind them. The room was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerators. Jimin approached your table, his movements deliberate and predatory. He leaned down, his hand brushing against your shoulder, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

With surprising strength, he lifted you by the waist, setting you down on the cold, metal surface of the table. The sudden change in height made you gasp, and you scooted back, your palms pressing against the coolness to steady yourself. "What are you doing?" you whispered, fear lacing your voice.

Jimin leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. He placed one hand on your bare thigh, his thumb stroking the soft skin just above your knee. "Just wanted to have a little chat," he murmured, his voice deceptively sweet. "You know, about last night."

Your heart raced, your mind reeling as you tried to understand what was happening. "What... what do you mean?" you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jimin's smirk grew, his hand moving to brush a stray strand of hair from your neck. His eyes danced with mischief as he leaned in closer, his warm breath tickling your ear. "The marks," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper. "The ones you're hiding with that collar. They're mine."

Your eyes widened in shock as you felt his fingertips trace the line of your neck, your heart hammering against your ribs. You had hoped it was all just a drunken haze, a nightmare you could forget. But now, as you felt the tender bruises pulse with his touch, you knew it was all too real. "Th-that person was you?" you managed to stammer, your voice shaking.

Jimin leaned in closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispered, "Yes, darling, it was me." His hand slid higher up your thigh, his thumb pressing into your flesh, sending a shiver down your spine. "But don't worry," he said with a wicked smile, "I'm here now, and I promise to make it up to you."

Your heart raced as you tried to push him away, your mind a whirlwind of panic. "N-no," you stammered, your voice shaking. "I don't want this. I didn't mean for it to happen."

Jimin's smile was cold, his eyes glinting with a mix of anger and amusement. "You paid for it, darling," he said, his voice a low growl. "And I always aim to satisfy my customers." His hand slid further up your thigh, his grip tightening.

Your voice trembled as you pushed him away. "Please," you begged, your eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you. Just give me back my money, and we can forget about it."

Jimin's smirk grew, his eyes dark with challenge. "Forgot what, darling?" he whispered, his voice a seductive purr. "You called me weak?" His hand moved to your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. "I don't think you're in a position to make demands."

Your heart raced, your mind racing for a way out. "I didn't mean it," you murmured, your voice shaking. "Please, Jimin, I'm sorry."

But Jimin's expression was unyielding, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and desire. "You're going to regret that," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. He leaned in closer, his hand sliding up your thigh, his thumb brushing against your inner thigh. You felt the heat of his body, his breath warm on your skin. "I'll show you just how satisfied you can be," he whispered, his voice a seductive promise.

Your heart hammered in your chest, and you knew you had to do something. Summoning every ounce of strength you had, you pushed him away, your head connecting with his face with a sharp crack. Jimin recoiled with a yelp, his hand flying to his nose. "Ouch," he grumbled, his eyes watering with pain.

Your chest heaved as you watched him, your eyes wide with terror. "Jimin, are you okay?" you asked, your voice trembling. You didn't know what had come over you, but you knew you had to get out of this situation.

Jimin's hand fell away from his nose, his eyes narrowed in shock. "What the hell was that?" he snarled, his grip on your thigh tightening. He was sexy even when he was angry, but you couldn't appreciate it. All you felt was fear.

"You can't do this," you whispered, your voice shaking.

"Oh, but I can, baby," Jimin murmured, his grip on your thigh unyielding. "You see, last night you got away," he continued, his voice a dangerous purr. "But not this time."

"What do you mean?" Your eyes searched his, desperate for understanding.

Jimin chuckled, his grip on your thigh tightening. "You really don't remember anything, do you?" His voice was a dark purr, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and irritation.

"Y-yes," you stuttered, feeling the cold dread seep into your bones. "What...what happened last night?"

Jimin's smile grew colder, his eyes glinting with a dark satisfaction. "You threw up on me, darling," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It was the first time I've ever fallen asleep without finishing the deed with a one-night stand."

You felt a surge of relief wash over you. "So, I didn't..." you trailed off, unable to bring yourself to say the words.

Jimin chuckled, his hand still on your thigh. "You didn't," he said, his eyes holding yours. "But that doesn't mean I won't get what I want from you."

Your heart sank as you felt his weight shift, his body pressing down on the table, pushing it against you. The metal was cold and unforgiving, and you could feel the tremble in your legs as you tried to push away from him. But he was too strong, his grip on your thigh too firm.

"Jimin, no," you whispered, your voice trembling with fear. "Please, don't do this."

But he was relentless, his hand sliding further up your thigh, his eyes never leaving yours. You could see the hunger in them, the desire to claim what he believed was his. But before he could lean in to kiss you, a voice pierced the tense silence.

"Jimin, can't you do this kind of things at home?" The voice was groggy, but the irritation was clear. You darted your eyes to the side, and you saw Suga standing in the doorway, his eyes squinted against the bright lights of the cafeteria. He looked utterly unamused, one hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Jimin's smirk faltered for a moment, his grip on your thigh loosening. "Hyung," he protested, his voice a whine. "You're ruining the mood."

Suga rolled his eyes, his expression unchanged. "You're in the middle of the cafeteria, man," he said, his voice thick with annoyance. "And it's the middle of the day."

Jimin's hand stilled on your thigh, his gaze flicking to Suga and back to you. "Yeah, I know," he murmured, his voice filled with frustration. "But she's just so... tempting."

Suga looked at you, his gaze sharp and assessing. "Jimin, seriously?" he drawled, his tone a blend of annoyance and disbelief. "You're starting to get a taste for these... simple girls? She doesn't even look like your type."

Your eyes snapped to Suga, a fiery spark in them as you found your voice. "Hey!" you exclaimed, pushing Jimin's hand off your thigh.

"Play with her another time," Suga said with a yawn, stretching his arms. "We have dance practice now. Let's go, Jimin."

Jimin's eyes flicked from you to Suga, his expression torn between irritation and desire. With a huff, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your cheek. "Later, darling," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "We're not done yet."

You felt a chill run down your spine as he stood, his hand lingering on your thigh for a moment before he finally released you. You watched as he sauntered out of the cafeteria. The door swung shut behind him, and you let out the breath you had been holding.

Night had fallen by the time you made your way to the bus stop, your thoughts racing as you waited under the flickering streetlight. "Why did I have to slap Jungkook?" you muttered to yourself, your cheeks flaming at the memory. "Why couldn't I have just kept my mouth shut?" Your voice grew louder, echoing in the deserted street. "And why did I leave that note with money? What the hell was I thinking?"

Your frustration reached a peak, and you threw your hands up in the air, screaming into the empty space around you. "Who was that person with Jimin? Why, oh why, did I have to get drunk and forget?" Your words bounced off the walls, and you slumped down onto the bench, your shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

A few pedestrians passing by stopped in their tracks, glancing over with looks of concern and confusion. One older man paused, tilting his head. "Young lady, are you okay?"

You took a deep breath, waving him off with a forced smile. "Oh, yes," you gasped out between giggles. "I'm just practicing my fan scream. You know, for BTS?" You let out a high-pitched squeal, complete with a dramatic hand flip, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

The man looked at you, his expression a mix of bewilderment and amusement. "Ah, I see," he said with a chuckle. "Well, carry on then. Just don't scare the neighborhood pets." He gave you a pat on the shoulder before continuing his stroll.

"I will, sir," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the distant hum of the city. You nodded, your eyes downcast, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders.

As the man walked away, you leaned back against the cool metal of the bench, your thoughts spiraling. "What have I gotten myself into?" you wondered aloud. The quiet cocoon of the night wrapped around you, offering no answers.

Taehyung leaned against the black luxury sedan, his eyes never leaving you as you stumbled down the sidewalk. Despite the chilly night air, his heart felt unusually warm as he watched you from a distance.

He couldn't help but smile, shaking his head slightly as he thought to himself, 'What a stupid girl'. But even as the words echoed in his mind, the corners of his lips tugged upwards into a gentle smile. There was something about your innocence and vulnerability that tugged at his heartstrings.

The early morning light filtered through the crack in the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Your phone blared its obnoxious alarm, pulling you from the depths of a troubled sleep. You groaned, your hand fumbling for the snooze button, your mind still foggy with the events of the previous night. The digital display read 5:45 AM. "Why did I set this so early?" you mumbled to yourself, your eyes still closed.

The alarm blared again, and you slapped the phone to silence it, rolling over to bury your face in the pillow.

Your eyes snapped open as the phone vibrated against the nightstand. You reached over with a sigh, your hand shaking as you brought it to your ear. "Hello?" you murmured, your voice thick with sleep.

The deep, seductive voice on the other end sent a jolt through your body, instantly recognizable. "Good morning, kitty," Jungkook purred.

"J-Jungkook?" you stuttered, your cheeks flushing hot at the endearment. You hadn't expected to hear from him, especially not so early.

"Yes, kitty," he said, his voice filled with a smug confidence that made your heart race. "I said, I'll be there in an hour. Be ready."

You sat bolt upright, the sleepiness evaporating from your body like a forgotten dream. "What? No, wait! I can't!" you sputtered, your thoughts racing.

But the line was already dead, and you were left staring at the phone in your trembling hand. "What does he want?" you whispered to the empty room, your heart pounding in your chest.

"What he think himself?" you muttered, your eyes narrowing as you processed Jungkook's words. You had no intention of playing his games. With a huff, you switched off your phone and let it clatter onto the nightstand. "I'm not his toy," you murmured to yourself, your voice filled with determination.

One hour later, you were still buried under your covers, trying to cling to the last fragments of sleep. But the persistent, shrill ringing of your doorbell shattered the quiet, jolting you awake. You groaned, your eyes fluttering open to stare at the unforgiving red digits of your clock: 6:45 AM. "What the..." you mumbled to yourself, your mind foggy.

With a resigned sigh, you rolled out of bed, your feet hitting the cold floor with a thud. You stumbled towards the door, your heart racing as you wondered who could possibly be there so early. When you pulled the door open, you were greeted by Jungkook's smug smile. He looked as fresh and alert as if he had been waiting all night for this moment.

"Kitty," he purred, his eyes raking over your disheveled form. "You're not quite ready yet."

To be continued in the next chapter.......

Masterlist

[sakshikim]

Whispers of obsession Masterlist

Pairing: jeon Jungkook/Kim taehyung/park jimin x reader

Genre: idol au, dark romance, obsession, possessive behavior, BDSM, yandere, smuts,

Warring : This story contains extremely dark and mature themes that may be disturbing to some readers.

* Non-consensual sexual acts (rape)

* Graphic violence and unsettling situations

* Explicit sexual content

* Abusive power dynamics and manipulation

* Strong, uncensored language

This narrative is specifically crafted for readers who are comfortable with, and actively seek out, dark romance with challenging and potentially triggering content. It does not shy away from the darker aspects of human nature and relationships.

If you are sensitive to any of the aforementioned themes or prefer lighter romance, this is not the story for you. Your emotional well-being is paramount, and we urge you to prioritize it.

Proceed with caution and at your own discretion. This story is a fictional exploration of its themes and does not endorse harmful behaviors.

summary :For Y/N, BTS was the world, their music a lifeline, and Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung unreachable stars. Until now. When a twist of fate throws her into their orbit, the fangirl fantasy shatters, revealing a far darker, more intoxicating reality. Their gazes hold a dangerous allure, their touches promise a possessive love she never dreamed of. But as devotion blurs into obsession, Y/N discovers that the idols she adored crave more than just her admiration-they crave her soul. Will her dream become her deepest nightmare, or will she surrender to the intoxicating whispers of their shared obsession?

A/N:Hi everyone! This is my very first time posting fanfiction on Tumblr, so I'm a little nervous but excited to share this story with you all. I hope you enjoy it!

Masterpost

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

[sakshikim]

Whispers of obsession

A/N : Hi everyone! Thanks for reading the next part of the whispers of obsession. I hope you enjoy Chapter 2!

Pairing : jeon Jungkook/Kim taehyung/park jimin x reader

Genre: Idol au, dark romance, obsessiveness, possessiveness behavior, yandere , BDSM

Warning: This story contains an extremely dark and mature theme that may be disturbing to some readers.

Parts :2/ongoing

Chapter 1

Chapter : 2

Jimin looked at him, a mischievous spark in his eyes. He licked the frosting from his lips, his gaze never leaving Taehyung's. "Is that so?" He took another bite, the sweetness of the strawberries mingling with the tartness of the cream. "Well, if you don't want her, can I have her?"

"Do whatever you want," Taehyung muttered, turning back to the mirror to resume his practice, his eyes distant. Jimin's smile grew even wider, his eyes gleaming with a hint of challenge. "Thanks," he replied, his voice dripping with sweetness as he took another bite of the cake.

Elsewhere in the bustling offices of BigHit Entertainment, you were busy sorting through documents, your mind still reeling from the morning's events. The hum of conversation and the tap of keyboards provided a comforting backdrop as you worked. You had hoped that today would be less eventful than your first day.

Your coworker, a friendly girl named Hyejin, approached your desk with a timid smile. "[Y/N], if you don't mind, can you bring some staff files from the storage room?" she asked. You looked up, relieved for the distraction, and nodded. "Of course, I'd be happy to help."

The storage room was located at the end of the hallway, its door a stark contrast to the sleek white walls of the office. You pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside, the cool darkness enveloping you like a blanket. The only light came from the crack under the door, casting eerie shadows on the floor. You fumbled for the light switch and flicked it on, only to realize the bulb was out. "Great," you murmured, feeling your heart rate spike.

Your phone's flashlight was your only source of illumination as you tiptoed through the room, your eyes adjusting to the gloom. The shelves towered above you, filled with boxes and forgotten equipment. Suddenly, you heard a faint sound, a murmur of voices, and the rustling of fabric. You paused, your breath hitching in your throat. It was coming from the back corner.

Your curiosity piqued, you edged closer, the light from your phone bobbing in the darkness. As you rounded a tower of boxes, you saw a sliver of light coming from under a door you hadn't noticed before. The voices grew clearer-laughter and whispers. You knew you shouldn't pry, but you couldn't help yourself.

Slowly, you pushed the door open. The scene before you was one you hadn't anticipated. Jungkook was sprawled on a sofa, his shirt half-unbuttoned, his eyes closed in a seemingly relaxed state. Seated on his lap was a girl. Your heart stuttered in your chest. This wasn't the first time you had stumbled upon something you weren't supposed to see, but the sight still shocked you.

The moment you were spotted, Jungkook's eyes snapped open, his expression as cold as ice. "Again?" he said, his voice as icy.

You stumbled over your words, your face burning. "I-I'm sorry," you managed to squeak out, your eyes darting to the girl who was now quickly getting off his lap and smoothing out her dress, looking equally surprised. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Interrupt what?" Jungkook demanded, his gaze piercing through the shadows.

"I'm sorry, I should go now," you whispered, your voice trembling as you took a step back.

Jungkook's hand shot out, gripping your wrist with surprising strength. "Stop right there," he said, his voice a low growl that sent a chill down your spine. He looked at the girl, his eyes darkening. "You go. I'll catch you later."

The girl shot a death glare at you, but she didn't need to be told twice. She grabbed her purse and slammed the door behind her, leaving the room filled with tension. Jungkook's grip tightened, and you could feel the heat of his touch even through your shirt sleeve. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

"What do you want?" Jungkook's question was blunt, his gaze unyielding.

You swallowed hard, your eyes darting around the room. "I-I was just looking for the staff files," you stuttered. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Jungkook's grip on your wrist tightened, and he pulled you closer, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Is that so?" he repeated, his tone low and dangerous. "Or are you spying on me?"

"N-no," you protested, your heart hammering in your chest. "I swear, it's just a coincidence."

Jungkook leaned in, his thumb brushing against your jawline as he tipped your chin up to look into your eyes. "Coincidence doesn't happen this often, [Y/N]," he murmured, his eyes searching yours. "What are you playing at?"

Your voice was shaky as you replied, "I'm not playing anything. I swear." You felt the heat from his body, and the scent of his cologne filled your nose, making you feel even more flustered.

Jungkook searched your eyes for any hint of deceit, his grip on your wrist not loosening. "Why do you keep showing up when I'm with girls?" His voice was a mix of curiosity and accusation.

"I-I swear it's just coincidence," you stammered, your eyes wide with innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Jungkook's grip tightened, his eyes narrowing. "You expect me to believe that?" he said, his voice a dangerous whisper. "That you just happen to stumble into my personal space when I'm with someone?"

"I-I'm sorry," you managed to squeak out, trying to pull your hand away. "It's just bad timing."

Jungkook's gaze lingered on you, his eyes raking over your features as if searching for something. "You're not so bad to look at," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that made your knees feel like jelly. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

He released your wrist, but instead of stepping away, he leaned in even closer, his breath hot against your ear. "I know what you want," he whispered, his voice thick with an unspoken challenge. "You want to be my bed."

Your heart stuttered in your chest, and you could feel your breathing quicken. You tried to shake your head, but his grip on your arm was firm. "N-no," you protested, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't lie to me," Jungkook said, his eyes piercing into yours. "I can see it in your eyes."

You shook your head, your heart racing. "No," you said, your voice trembling.

Jungkook's expression softened a fraction, his gaze lingering on your face. "What's your price?" he repeated, his tone softer now.

Your eyes widened with shock. "My price?" you echoed, your voice trembling. "What are you talking about?"

Jungkook smirked, his gaze never leaving yours. "Don't play coy," he said, his voice a low purr. "Everyone has a price. What's yours for spending a night with me?"

Your eyes widened with shock. "I'm not that type of girl," you protested, your voice shaking.

Jungkook's laugh was low and mocking. "Oh, really?" he said, his eyes gleaming with challenge. "You expect me to believe that?" He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. "Please, I'm not," you whispered, your eyes pleading.

But Jungkook was relentless. His grip on your arm grew stronger, his eyes dark with desire. "You're so cute when you blush," he said, his voice a low purr that sent shivers down your spine. "How much for you to ride me right here, right now?"

Your eyes widened even more, and you struggled to pull away. "I-I can't," you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not like that."

Jungkook's smirk grew. "Everyone has a price, [Y/N]," he murmured, his voice dripping with seductive challenge. "How about I make it worth your while?" He leaned in, his breath hot against your neck. "You'll look so much better on your knees, taking my cock in your mouth, begging me to fill you."

Your cheeks burned with humiliation, and you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You had never been talked to like this before, especially not by the idol you had admired from afar. His words were like a slap in the face.

Jungkook's smirk grew, and he leaned in even closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Oh, I know you want to," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Your body is begging for it." His hand slid down from your arm to your waist, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip. "How much would it take for you to spread those pretty legs for me?"

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, your voice trapped in your throat. You had always thought of Jungkook as a sweet and kind person, but the words coming out of his mouth were anything but. His hand continued to roam, his eyes dark with lust. "You'd beg for me to fill you up," he said, his voice a low growl that seemed to echo through the room. "And when I'm done, you'd lick me clean like a kitten with a bowl of cream."

With a sudden burst of courage, you slapped him hard across the face. Jungkook's smirk was wiped away, replaced by shock and anger. He brought his hand to his cheek, his eyes wide with disbelief. "How dare you?" he spat.

Before he could say another word, you slapped him again, your palm stinging from the contact. "How dare you think you can treat me like that?" you said, your voice shaking with rage and fear. "I'm not some cheap toy for you to play with!"

Jungkook's eyes narrowed, his hand flying to his face. "What the fuck?" he bellowed, his expression a mix of shock and anger.

You didn't flinch. "I'm not your playing thing," you spat back at him, your voice strong despite the tremble in your body. "And I never will be."

He stepped towards you, his smile smug. "You'll regret this," he said, his voice low and menacing.

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fear that was bubbling up inside you. "I don't care," you said, your voice strong despite your trembling hands. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Without another word, you turned on your heel and marched out of the storage room, your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel Jungkook's gaze burning into your back as you left, but you didn't dare look back. You had to get away from him before you did something you might regret.

Jungkook's hand hovered over his stinging cheek as he watched you storm out of the storage room, your shoulders squared and your steps determined. He couldn't believe you had the audacity to slap him, not once, but twice. Who did you think you were? But as the door slammed shut, a strange sense of intrigue stirred in his chest. No one had ever dared to stand up to him like that before, especially not someone who was just an intern.

"Interesting," he murmured to himself, his eyes narrowing as he processed the situation. He had felt the fire in your touch, the indignation in your voice. It was a challenge, and Jungkook was never one to back down from a challenge.

Your legs trembled as you rushed back to the safety of the main office, your thoughts racing. What had just happened? Did you really just slap Jeon Jungkook, the sweet, charming boy you had idolized? The reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. You had slapped a member of BTS, the most famous boy band in the world, and you had a feeling that you would not be getting off scot-free.

Night had descended over Seoul. You sat at your desk, your eyes heavy with fatigue, as you reviewed the final documents of the day. Your thoughts kept drifting back to the confrontation with Jungkook, your heart racing with the memory of his touch and the harshness of his words. You stood, your legs wobbly, and began to pack up your things, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the office.

Your vision swam, and you didn't notice the wall you were about to collide with. Just before impact, you felt strong arms wrap around you, catching you in their embrace. You looked up to see Taehyung's concerned gaze, his grip firm and steady.

"Are you okay?" His voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the coldness from earlier.

You nodded, trying to convince yourself as much as him. "I-I'm okay," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

Taehyung's eyes searched yours, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. "You should be more careful," he repeated, his voice gentle but firm.

Your eyes met his, and you couldn't help but feel the sincerity in his words. "Thank you," you murmured, your heart racing in his embrace.

But before you could say anything more, Taehyung's gaze darted over your shoulder, and his expression changed to one of alarm. "Hobi hyung," he whispered urgently, pulling you closer and placing a hand over your mouth. "Please, be quiet. I need to hide."

Your heart raced as you nodded, your eyes wide with confusion. Taehyung quickly ushered you behind a nearby pillar, their bodies pressed tightly together as they listened to the approaching footsteps. The sound grew louder, and you could feel his warm breath against your ear as he whispered, "You can't let him find me."

When the footsteps finally passed, Taehyung released you, his eyes searching yours. "Thank you," he breathed, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer than necessary. Your cheeks flushed as you realized you were still trembling. "You're shaking," he said, his voice filled with concern.

"I-I'm fine," you stuttered, trying to put distance between them. "Why were you hiding from J-Hope?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Taehyung's expression grew sheepish. "It's nothing," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just made a mistake during dance practice, and he's pretty... insistent on perfection."

Your eyes widened with understanding. "Oh," you murmured, your voice still shaky. "That must be tough."

Taehyung nodded, his gaze lingering on your face. He reached out and gently touched your cheek, his thumb brushing over the smudge of lipstick you hadn't noticed. "You have a little something here," he said, his voice softer than she had ever heard it.

Your breath caught in your throat as his thumb grazed the corner of your mouth. The warmth from his touch spread through you, and you couldn't help but lean into it. His eyes searched yours, and you felt a strange connection forming between them.

But then he spoke, his voice filled with a teasing lilt. "Your face is so red. Do you have a fever?" He didn't wait for a response, his fingers moving to trace the smudge. The sensation of his skin against yours was electric, sending a jolt through your body. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All you could do was stand there, frozen, as he touched you so intimately.

Panic set in, and you realized you had to get away before you did something stupid. You took a step back, your cheeks burning. "I-I'm okay," you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thanks for the help."

Without waiting for his response, you turned and bolted down the hallway, your heart racing. You didn't dare look back, didn't want to see the confusion or amusement on his face. You had to escape the intensity of his gaze, the warmth of his touch.

As you reached the lobby, you saw Minseo standing by the doors, her heels clicking on the marble floor as she waited for you to join her. The HR manager looked up and offered a warm smile. "Ready to go?"

"Yes, m-manager Minseo," you stumbled over your words, still reeling from your encounter with Taehyung.

Minseo's smile grew. "Call me Minseo," she said gently. "We're not at work right now, and I'm not much older than you."

You nodded, trying to compose yourself. "Thank you, Minseo," you said, your voice still shaking.

Minseo's eyes searched yours, a hint of concern in her gaze. "Is everything okay?" she asked.

You took a deep breath, trying to push the encounter with Jungkook out of your mind. "Yes, I'm just tired," you lied, forcing a smile.

Minseo's smile remained in place, but her eyes searched yours for any signs of distress. "Well, I've got something that might cheer you up," she said, her voice taking on a mischievous tone. "I'm going to a club tonight. Want to come?"

Your eyes widened in surprise. "A club?" you repeated, your voice small.

Minseo nodded. "Yeah, you know, to let loose, have some fun," she said, her eyes sparkling. "You can join me. It'll be a good way to unwind."

You hesitated, your mind racing. Going to a club was the last thing you had planned on doing tonight, but you also didn't want to be alone with your thoughts. "O-okay," you finally said, your voice small but determined. "Let's go."

The club was a cacophony of lights and sounds, the bass vibrating through your chest as you stepped inside. Minseo led the way through the crowded dance floor, her confidence unwavering as she navigated the throngs of people. You followed closely, feeling like a fish out of water.

They found a table near the back, and Minseo ordered a round of drinks. "So, tell me more about you," she said, her voice cutting through the music.

You took a sip of the fruity concoction in your hand, your eyes wide as you surveyed the crowded dance floor. "There's not much to tell," you said shyly. "I just graduated from college, and I'm interning at BigHit."

Minseo's eyes skyrocketed with interest. "Ah, so you're a fan?"

You nodded, your cheeks flushing. "I've liked BTS for a long time," you admitted. "It's still so surreal to be working so close to them."

Minseo leaned in closer, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Which one is your bias?" she asked, using the fan term for favorite member.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "Well, I've always liked all of them, but if I had to choose, it's Taehyung," you confessed, your voice barely audible over the music.

Minseo grinned, her eyes lighting up. "Ah, the mysterious one," she said, her voice filled with knowing. "I can see why."

You took another sip of your drink, trying to ignore the way Taehyung's touch still lingered on your skin. Before you could say anything else, the music grew louder, and the lights dimmed as the DJ announced the next song.

The drink burned a path down your throat, and you coughed, your eyes watering. "What is this?" you squeaked, holding the glass away from you.

Minseo laughed, patting you on the back. "It's a special cocktail," she shouted over the music. "It's got a bit of a kick."

Your eyes widened as you realized you had just consumed alcohol for the first time in your life. Your cheeks flushed, and the room spun a little as the alcohol hit you like a ton of bricks. "I-I think I need to go to the bathroom," you mumbled, pushing your chair back.

Minseo nodded, her smile understanding. "Take your time," she called after you.

You weaved through the crowded club, the lights flashing in time with your racing heart. You felt the warmth of the alcohol spread through your body, making you feel lightheaded. As you stumbled towards the bathroom, the pounding bass grew fainter, you noticed a woman huddled in the corner, her shoulders shaking with sobs. A man leaned against the wall nearby, his expression cold and indifferent as he lit a cigarette.

The woman's mascara was smeared down her cheeks, and her dress was wrinkled, as if she had been dancing too hard. "Please," she begged, her voice a desperate whisper. "Don't do this to me."

The man took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke with a sigh. "It's not my fault, baby," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Women are like clothes to me. When I get bored, I change them."

Your rage grew, the alcohol fueling your courage. "You're a bastard," you yelled, your voice slurred but firm. You stumbled closer, pointing a finger at his chest. "If women are like clothes to you, they're like those fancy brands you can't afford to buy!"

The man looked up, his smirk widening as recognition dawned on his face. It was Jimin, but you were too drunk to realize it. His eyes glinted with amusement at your accusation. "Oh, really?" he said, his voice a low purr that sent shivers down your spine despite your anger. "You think I can't afford any brand?"

With surprising strength, he scooped you up over his shoulder and began to navigate through the crowd, your legs dangling limply behind him. The room spun around you, and you could feel the heat from his body through your clothes. "Where are you taking me?" you slurred, your voice barely audible.

Jimin didn't bother to answer, his smirk growing with every step he took. He pushed open a door marked "VIP" and strode into the dimly lit room, the bass of the music thumping against your back. The room was filled with plush sofas and a large bed in the center, surrounded by velvet curtains. He tossed you onto the bed, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Girl," he said, his voice a low growl, "let me tell you, there's not a single brand that I can't afford." He climbed on top of you, his hands gripping your wrists, pinning them to the mattress. "And that includes you."

Your eyes widened in horror, your heart racing. "What are you doing?" you slurred, your voice thick with fear.

Jimin's smirk grew as he began to unbutton your blouse, his movements deliberate and slow. "What does it look like?" he murmured, his eyes dark with desire.

Panic set in, and you struggled beneath him, trying to push him away. "S-stop it," you protested, your voice shaking. "I don't w-want this."

But your words fell on deaf ears. Jimin was in control, his body pressing down on yours, making it difficult to breathe. "You'll like it," he whispered, his breath hot against your neck.

Your stomach churned, and you felt the bile rising in your throat. "No," you managed to say, your eyes watering. "I-I don't feel good."

But Jimin was too caught up in the moment to care. He leaned in, his lips poised to claim yours, when suddenly you couldn't hold it in any longer. With a gag, you vomited all over him, the vile smell of the cheap liquor filling the air.

Jimin recoiled with a shout, wiping his face in disgust. "What the fuck?" he yelled, his eyes wide with shock and anger.

To be Continued to the next chapter.....

[sakshikim]

Whispers of obsession

Pairing: jeon jungkook/kim Taehyung/park jimin X reader

Genre: Idol au, dark romance, obsession, possessive behavior, BDSM, Yandere,

Warring:This story contains extremely dark and mature themes that may be disturbing to some readers.

Parts: ongoing

* Non-consensual sexual acts (rape)

* Graphic violence and unsettling situations

* Explicit sexual content

* Abusive power dynamics and manipulation

* Strong, uncensored language

This narrative is specifically crafted for readers who are comfortable with, and actively seek out, dark romance with challenging and potentially triggering content. It does not shy away from the darker aspects of human nature and relationships.

If you are sensitive to any of the aforementioned themes or prefer lighter romance, this is not the story for you. Your emotional well-being is paramount, and we urge you to prioritize it.

Proceed with caution and at your own discretion. This story is a fictional exploration of its themes and does not endorse harmful behaviors.

Summary:For Y/N, BTS was the world, their music a lifeline, and Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung unreachable stars. Until now. When a twist of fate throws her into their orbit, the fangirl fantasy shatters, revealing a far darker, more intoxicating reality. Their gazes hold a dangerous allure, their touches promise a possessive love she never dreamed of. But as devotion blurs into obsession, Y/N discovers that the idols she adored crave more than just her admiration-they crave her soul. Will her dream become her deepest nightmare, or will she surrender to the intoxicating whispers of their shared obsession?

A/N : Hi everyone! This is my very first time posting fanfiction on Tumblr, so I'm a little nervous but excited to share this story with you all. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 2 :

Chapter 1

The Seoul skyline was a blur of steel and glass as you approached the imposing BigHit Entertainment building, your heart beating faster with every step. You had dreamt of this moment for years-getting an internship with the company that had created the K-pop group you idolized. The towering structure stood tall, a bastion of creativity and hard work. The glass doors parted with a gentle whoosh, revealing a sleek and modern lobby that mirrored the polished image of the band that had taken the world by storm.

Your nerves fluttered like the pages of a well-read book as you stepped into the cool embrace of the building. The floor gleamed underfoot, reflecting the excitement in your eyes. The air had anticipation and the faint echoes of the latest BTS hits could be heard from somewhere deep within. You took a moment to gather yourself, your palms damp with the excitement that threatened to overwhelm you.

Minseo, the HR manager, spotted you and waved from across the lobby. Dressed in a sharp black suit, she was a picture of professionalism with a smile that was as warm as it was genuine. "You must be Y/N," she said, approaching with an outstretched hand. "Welcome to BigHit. I'm so happy to have you here with us."

Your cheeks flushed pink as you took Minseo's hand in a firm grip. "Thank you," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. "This is all so surreal." Minseo chuckled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I remember feeling the same way when I first started. But don't worry, you'll get the hang of things quickly. Now, let's get you settled in. We have a lot to cover on your first day."

As you strolled down the corridors, the walls adorned with gold records and framed magazine covers, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of excitement. The air was charged with the electricity of creativity and ambition, a scent you had only ever dreamed of inhaling. You passed by a room where the door was ajar, and a muffled giggle slipped through the crack. Your curiosity piqued, your gaze stole a peek inside.

Your eyes widened in shock. There, in the dimly lit room, was Jeon Jungkook, the youngest member of BTS, wrapped in an embrace with a girl you didn't recognize. His hand was tangled in her hair, and their lips were pressed together in a passionate kiss. Your heart skipped a beat, a mix of surprise and something else-something you didn't dare put a name to. You quickly averted your gaze, your hand flying to your mouth to stifle a gasp.

But you weren't fast enough. The sound of the door creaking as you tried to close it caught Jungkook's attention. He pulled away from the girl, his eyes locking onto yours. The surprise in his gaze was unmistakable, his handsome features frozen in a moment of pure, unfiltered shock. The girl turned to look at you too, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features before she playfully swatted Jungkook's arm.

"Who are you?" Jungkook's voice was low and gruff, his eyes narrowing in an angry glare. You stumbled over your own feet, your mind racing. "I'm sorry," you squeaked out, your cheeks burning. "I just got lost." You gestured to the corridor behind you, hoping it was a believable enough excuse. Jungkook's eyes searched yours, as if looking for a hint of a lie.

"Lost? This is a restricted area!" Jungkook's voice grew louder, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. The girl slipped out of the room, a smirk playing on her lips.

"I'm the new intern, Y/N. I just arrived and Minseo was showing me around. I swear I didn't mean to... I didn't know you were in here!" you rushed to explain.

Jungkook's expression softened slightly. "Ah, the new intern. But you can't just barge into rooms like that!" He tried to laugh it off, but his eyes searched yours for any hint of judgment or gossip.

You nodded fervently. "I know, I'm really sorry. It was an accident!"

"Let's just keep this between us, okay?" Jungkook finally said, his voice softer now. "I don't need any more drama in my life."

You nodded quickly, your eyes darting to the floor. "Of course. I'm so sorry for intruding."

As you turned to leave, Jungkook called out, his voice a gentle caress in the tense air. "Welcome to the Big Hit family, Y/N Just remember to knock next time."

Your face was still hot with embarrassment, you practically sprinted away, your thoughts a whirlwind. You needed to find Minseo, to get away from the scene you'd just stumbled upon. As you rounded the next corner, you collided with someone, the air leaving your lungs in a rush. Before you could even react, your top was smothered in a layer of sticky pink frosting and chunks of strawberry cake.

Your eyes snapped up to meet the gaze of the person you had collided with, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw it was none other than Kim Taehyung. His handsome face was etched with a look of shock, his eyes widening as they took in the mess that now adorned your shirt. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to echo through your entire being. "Are you okay?"

Taehyung's concern was palpable, but the words you desperately wanted to form remained lodged in your throat, a jumbled mess of syllables and breaths. You could only nod mutely, your eyes darting down to the cake that clung to you in an unwelcome embrace. The sweet smell of strawberries and sugar invaded your nostrils, a stark contrast to the bitter taste of embarrassment that coated your tongue.

"Here," Taehyung offered, reaching out with a napkin. His touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the fiery passion he had seen him exude on stage. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "Let me help you clean up." He wiped at the frosting with careful strokes, his eyes never leaving yours.

Finally, you found your voice, a soft whisper that barely seemed to break the silence. "It's okay," you managed to say. "It was an accident." You took the napkin from him and continued to clean yourself up, your hands shaking slightly.

Taehyung studied you, a curious expression crossing his features. "I've never seen you around here before. Are you new?" he asked, his voice a velvety purr that sent your pulse racing. You nodded, your eyes not quite meeting his.

"Yes," you murmured, your voice small and shaky. "I just started today. I'm the new intern."

Taehyung's eyes searched yours for a moment before his gaze flickered down to the corner of your mouth, where a smudge of cream had found its way from your shirt. Without a word, he reached out with the napkin again, his thumb brushing against your lower lip as he gently wiped away the stray bit of cake. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through your body, and you felt your cheeks flush even deeper.

"Thank you," you mumbled, taking the napkin and scrubbing at the spot he had just touched.

Just then, Minseo's voice called out from down the hallway. "Y/N!" she exclaimed, rushing over. "What on earth are you doing here? And Taehyung-ssi, are you okay?"

Taehyung took a step back, his smile faltering slightly. "It's fine, Minseo. I just had a bit of a... mishap with the cake."

Minseo looked from your sticky shirt to Taehyung's slightly panicked face, then back to you. "Oh no! Your clothes!" she clucked her tongue, shaking her head. "You can't go around the company like that. You're going to get fired on your first day!"

Your eyes widened in horror. "What do I do?" you squeaked.

"Don't worry," Taehyung assured you, his voice was a comforting balm. "Minseo will help you."

Minseo nodded in agreement, a flicker of understanding passing between her and Taehyung. "Come with me," she said, taking your arm firmly. She steered you back down the hallway and into a nearby room marked 'Changing Room'.

"Make yourself comfortable," Minseo said with a smile. "I'll grab you a new shirt from wardrobe."

You nodded, your cheeks still flaming from the encounter with Taehyung. You stepped into the changing room, your thoughts racing. As you waited, the door swung open again, and you assumed it was Minseo returning with a clean shirt. But when you looked up, you realized your mistake.

Park Jimin, another member of BTS, stepped into the room, his hair damp with sweat from dance practice. He was in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a set of abs that could make even the most stoic of fans swoon. He hadn't noticed you yet. "Minseo, can you grab me a towel?" he called out, his voice a sweet blend of exhaustion and playfulness.

You stifled a gasp, your eyes wide. You were frozen, unsure if you should announce your presence or just wait for Minseo to arrive. Jimin's shirt hit the floor, and he started to unbuckle his pants. The room grew hotter, or was it just you? Your heart hammered in your chest like a drum during a concert finale.

Just as you were about to speak, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Jimin's eyes widened as he took in your cake-covered shirt and the horror etched on your face. "Who are you?" he asked, spinning around. His question hung in the air, filled with curiosity rather than malice.

"I-I'm the new intern," you stuttered, your voice trembling. "Y/N."

Jimin's eyes swept over you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Ah, the new intern," he repeated, his voice dripping with amusement. "I'm Park Jimin, but you can call me Jimin."

You nodded, feeling your face heat up even more. "I-I'm sorry, I'll just wait outside."

"No need to be shy," Jimin said, his smirk growing. "Minseo is busy, and I need a towel. You can help me find one, right?"

Your eyes remained glued to the floor, unable to meet his gaze. Your mind raced with embarrassment and the awkwardness of the situation. You nodded, keeping your voice low, "O-of course."

Jimin chuckled, noticing your shyness. "You know, you can stare at me," he said, his voice playful. "I'm not going to eat you." He winked, and you felt a blush creep up your neck, your heart hammering in your chest. You had seen this kind of flirtatious banter between Jimin and fans, but you never thought you would be on the receiving end of it.

"Here," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you held out the towel you had found on the shelf. Jimin took it with a smile, his eyes never leaving yours. "Thanks,Y/N ," he said, his tone dripping with charm. He began to wipe the sweat from his face and chest, his movements casual yet deliberate.

"But seriously," he added, his smile fading a bit, "what happened to your shirt?" His gaze drifted down to the mess of pink frosting and cake that still clung to your clothes.

You felt your cheeks burn even hotter, if that was possible. "It was an accident," you mumbled, your eyes darting around the room. "I-I bumped into someone with a cake."

Jimin's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oops," he said, his voice light. "Someone should have been more careful."

Your heart felt like it was about to pound out of your chest. "I-I didn't mean to," you stuttered, your eyes darting around the room for an escape.

Minseo's voice called out from the hallway, breaking the tension. "Y/N, I've got your shirt!"

"Thank goodness," Jimin said, his smirk back in place. He leaned against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. "Well, don't let me keep you."

You practically bolted out of the room, snatching the clean shirt from Minseo's outstretched hand. You didn't dare look back at Jimin, afraid you would stumble over your own feet again. You quickly slipped into the new shirt, the fabric cool and clean against your skin.

"Let's go," Minseo said, a hint of a smile in her eyes. "We have a schedule to keep."

You nodded, your thoughts racing as you followed the HR manager through the maze of corridors. The rest of the day passed in a blur of meetings and introductions.

When you finally returned home, the encounter with Taehyung played on repeat in your mind. The way his thumb had brushed against your lip, the concern in his eyes, the warmth of his touch-it was all too much. You collapsed onto your bed, your thoughts a tumultuous storm of emotions. Your cheeks flushed with the same heat they had felt under his gaze.

For hours, you lay there, replaying the scene over and over, the smell of strawberry frosting lingering in your nose. The thought of his cake being destroyed by your clumsiness filled you with a strange mix of guilt and longing. You knew you had to make it up to him somehow. And so, the idea formed in your mind-you would make him a new cake.

The next morning, you woke up early, your mind buzzing with excitement. You had barely slept, but the anticipation of seeing Taehyung again fueled you. You carefully selected ingredients from your kitchen, your hands moving with purpose as you mixed and baked a new strawberry cake, identical to the one you had ruined. The sweet aroma filled your small apartment, a comforting embrace that whispered promises of redemption.

Once the cake was out of the oven, you meticulously decorated it with fresh strawberries and a perfect layer of frosting. It was a masterpiece, a silent apology in the form of sugar and butter. With trembling hands, you placed it in a Tupperware container and closed the lid with a soft click.

Leaving your apartment, you stepped into the cool morning air, the scent of the city waking up around you. A cab pulled up, and you slid into the back seat, clutching the cake tightly. As the car wove through the crowded streets of Seoul, you couldn't shake the image of Taehyung's surprised face from your mind. Would he accept your peace offering? Would he even remember you?

As the BigHit building loomed into view, you took a deep breath and stepped out of the taxi, your heart racing. The cake felt heavier than ever in your hands as you approached the gleaming glass doors. You had practiced what you would say to him in your mind a hundred times, but now, the words felt like a jumble of syllables.

Just as you were about to step into the lobby, your heel caught on something. A drain pipe, hidden in the shadow of the building. Panic set in as you realized you were stuck, your shoe sucked in tight. You wiggled your foot, trying to free yourself, but it was no use. The cake wobbled in your hands, and you could almost feel the delicate strawberries slipping from their perch.

"Don't move, okay?" A voice from behind you made you jump. You turned to find Jimin, his eyes dancing with amusement as he took in your predicament. He crouched down, his hand reaching for your ankle. "Let me help you."

You nodded, your face burning with embarrassment. You had hoped to avoid another awkward encounter with him, but fate seemed to have other plans. Jimin's grip was firm and gentle as he pulled your heel out of the drain pipe with surprising ease. "Thank you," you murmured, your eyes lingering on his hand for a moment longer than necessary.

"No problem," he said with a wink. "But maybe you should watch where you're going next time." He took the Tupperware from your shaky hands, his eyes landing on the cake inside. "Is this for me?"

You felt your face turn a deeper shade of red. "N-no," you stuttered, trying to compose yourself. "It's for Taehyung. I had an accident yesterday, and I wanted to apologize."

Jimin raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking from the cake to your flushed cheeks. "Oh?" he said, his voice dripping with curiosity. "What kind of accident?"

You took a deep breath, recounting the incident with the cake and your awkward encounter with Taehyung. Jimin's eyes grew wide, and he couldn't help but burst out laughing. "That's hilarious!" he exclaimed.

"It's not funny!" you protested, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

But Jimin couldn't help himself. He chuckled as he took the Tupperware from you. "Okay, okay," he said, holding up his hands in a mock surrender. "But this cake does look pretty tasty."

You felt a glimmer of a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. "Thank you," you murmured, taking back the container. "I hope Taehyung likes it."

"If you don't mind, I'll take this cake to Taehyung for you," Jimin offered, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "He's in dance practice right now."

You blinked, surprised by his sudden helpfulness. "Really?" you asked, hope sparking in your eyes.

Jimin's smile grew wider. "Yes, really," he said, placing a gentle finger on your quivering lip. "But," he added, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief, "next time, I'll expect a sweet treat from you."

Your eyes widened, but you couldn't help the warmth that flooded your cheeks. You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "Okay."

With a wink, Jimin took the Tupperware and turned to leave, his footsteps echoing down the corridor as he disappeared from view. You watched him go, your heart racing. What had just happened? Was he flirting with you? You had always heard about Jimin's playful nature with fans, but this felt different-more personal, more intimate.

The practice room's door swung open with a gentle nudge from Jimin's shoulder, revealing Taehyung in the throes of a dance routine. The room was a whirlwind of sweat and passion, the mirrors reflecting his powerful moves and intense gaze. Jimin's eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched his bandmate glide across the floor.

Breaking the rhythm of the music, Jimin cleared his throat. "Taehyung-ah," he called out, the Tupperware in hand. Taehyung spun around, his eyes lighting up when he saw Jimin. But that joy was quickly replaced with confusion as he took in the cake. "What's this?" he asked, breathing heavily.

"It's an apology," Jimin grinned, his voice filled with the same mischief that danced in his eyes. "From the girl you had the... cake accident with yesterday."

Taehyung's expression grew dark. "Who?" he barked, his dance moves coming to an abrupt halt.

Jimin shrugged, his smile not fading. "The new intern, Y/N You know, the one who got her shirt all sticky because of your clumsiness?"

"Just throw it in the dustbin," Taehyung's voice was gruff, his eyes flashing with annoyance.

Jimin's smile didn't falter. He pried open the Tupperware, revealing the pristine strawberry cake. "But it's your favorite," he teased, his teeth sinking into the soft sponge.

Taehyung's eyes narrowed, watching as Jimin savored the cake with exaggerated pleasure. "They're all the same, Jimin," he said, his voice low and bitter. "Gold diggers."

Jimin looked at him, a mischievous spark in his eyes. He licked the frosting from his lips, his gaze never leaving Taehyung's. "Is that so?" He took another bite, the sweetness of the strawberries mingling with the tartness of the cream. "Well, if you don't want her, can I have her?"

To be continued in next chapter