A Leash Made of Gold
The streets were soaked in rain, dark and glistening like obsidian. Thunder rumbled in the distance—low and angry—matching Taehyung’s mood perfectly.
He yanked his hoodie tighter over his head and darted down the alley behind his building. He needed space, quiet, and most importantly—distance from Jeon freaking Jungkook.
Who did he think he was? Showing up at the club like that. Looking at him like he was something precious. Like he wanted to cage him and keep him.
Kim Taehyung
(Taehyung scoffed and kicked a trash can.)
Kim Taehyung
He’s just another controlling bastard.
( he muttered.)
And I don’t belong to anyone.
But as soon as he said it, his chest tightened.
Don’t belong.
The words echoed, strangely comforting and sad all at once.
He turned the corner toward his apartment—and froze.
A man in a suit stood by the stairs.
Slick hair. Scar on his chin. Hands behind his back. Quiet smile.
Taehyung’s instincts screamed.
Kim Taehyung
You're not from around here.
(he said flatly.)
unknown
No.
(the man agreed.)
But my employer sends regards.
Taehyung’s hand twitched toward his pocketknife.
In one fluid move, the stranger lunged. Taehyung ducked under the punch, slammed his knee into the man's gut, then elbowed him across the jaw.
The man stumbled—but recovered too quickly.
Trained.
Another hit—Taehyung dodged left, but not fast enough. A sharp pain bloomed across his ribs as a fist landed hard.
Not good. Not alone.
He needed backup. Hoseok was across town. His phone? Cracked and dead in his pocket.
The man reached for something—gun, maybe—but he never got the chance.
Because suddenly, a bullet slammed through his shoulder.
unknown
(He dropped, screaming.)
AHHHHHHH...
Kim Taehyung
(Taehyung spun around.
And saw him.....)
Drenched from the rain, dressed in a black coat, gun in hand, expression pure rage.
Jeon Jungkook
Don’t. Touch. Him.
( Jungkook growled as he walked forward, boots splashing through puddles.)
The man whimpered, crawling.
Another shot—clean, straight through the leg.
Taehyung stood there, stunned.
Jungkook stepped between him and the attacker, towering like a wolf guarding his mate.
Jeon Jungkook
Who sent you?
( Jungkook demanded.)
unknown
(The man spat blood.)
K-Kim Minjae. Said the street rat was getting cocky—
A third shot silenced him.
Taehyung stared as Jungkook lowered the gun and turned toward him.
Kim Taehyung
You followed me.
Jeon Jungkook
You needed watching.
(Jungkook said simply.)
Kim Taehyung
I had it handled.
Jeon Jungkook
You were bleeding.
( Jungkook replied, eyes roaming Taehyung’s form.)
Again.
Kim Taehyung
(Taehyung bristled.)
So what? Gonna patch me up and throw a collar on me next?
Jeon Jungkook
(Jungkook tilted his head.)
If it kept you safe, yes.
Kim Taehyung
I’m not some toy for your protection kink.
( Taehyung snapped.)
Jeon Jungkook
You’re not a toy.
( Jungkook said, stepping closer.)
You’re a goddamn wildfire, and I’m the only one who wants to stand in the flames.
Taehyung’s breath hitched.
Kim Taehyung
I don’t need anyone.
(he whispered.)
Jeon Jungkook
I’m not just anyone.
(Jungkook said, voice low.)
And I’m not asking.
Later, in Jungkook’s penthouse.
Yoongi(Suga)
(Yoongi was pacing.)
He brought Taehyung here? To his home?
Namjoon
(Namjoon, seated with a tablet, sipped his drink calmly.)
Did you expect anything less?
Jimin
(Jimin chimed in, lounging on the couch.)
He patched him up himself. Even refused the medics.
Seokjin
(Jin raised an eyebrow.)
Oh, we’re deep in it now.
Namjoon
The problem isn’t Jungkook’s obsession.
( Namjoon said.)
It’s what he’ll do because of it.
Everyone went quiet.
Because they knew. Jeon Jungkook didn’t love. He claimed. And if Taehyung ever became his, the line between affection and possession would vanish.
Meanwhile.
Taehyung sat shirtless on a silk-sheeted bed, glaring at his bandaged side.
Kim Taehyung
This is kidnapping.
Jeon Jungkook
(Jungkook, sitting across from him, calmly replied.)
This is protection.
Kim Taehyung
You didn’t ask me.
Jeon Jungkook
You’d have said no.
Jeon Jungkook
(Jungkook stood.)
You’re safe here. That’s all that matters.
Kim Taehyung
I’m not yours, Jungkook.
(Taehyung snapped.)
The mafia boss walked over slowly, like a predator approaching its prey—but his hands were gentle as he tilted Taehyung’s chin up.
Jeon Jungkook
I don’t care if you bite. Or scream. Or curse me.
(Jungkook said.)
But don’t tell me you’re alone. Not anymore.
Taehyung flinched.
Jungkook didn’t press.
Jeon Jungkook
(He leaned in and whispered near his ear.)
Sleep. You’re safe here, even if you hate it.
Then he walked out and locked the door behind him.
Taehyung sat there, hands trembling.
His heart thudded painfully against his ribs, and without warning, the edges of his mind began to fog.
The warmth.
The softness.
The feeling of being taken care of—just for a second—was too much.
He curled into the blanket, eyes wide, thumb grazing his lips before he stopped himself.
Kim Taehyung
*Not now. Not now. Not again.*
But the blanket smelled like cinnamon and expensive cologne.
And despite everything—he slept.
Somewhere in the shadows.
Kim Minjae slammed his fist into the table.
Kim Minjae
That brat has the mafia boss wrapped around his little finger!
His underling shifted nervously. “What do we do?”
Kim Minjae
(Minjae smiled coldly.)
We make Jeon Jungkook choose—between the boy, or the empire.
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