JEON JUNGKOOK

Taehyung leads me into his room—it's only the second time I’ve been here, yet it still captivates me. The artwork that adorns the walls, the sleek black interior, all of it feels so… him. But nothing compares to the scent that lingers in the air. It envelops me, filling my senses, and suddenly, my heart hums with warmth. For the first time in a long while, I feel at ease. He feels like home.

Having a mate who cares so deeply, so unwaveringly, is beyond anything I’ve ever dreamed of. When I’m with Taehyung, everything else fades into the background. The chaos, the noise, the negativity—all of it vanishes. It’s as if he is the antidote to everything that ails me, the one who silences the storm inside and brings peace. For the first time in my life, I feel seen. I feel wanted. I feel… alive.

All my life, I’ve wandered, searching for a place to belong, a space to call my own. I’ve never truly settled anywhere. But with him? Here, I feel grounded. I feel like I have a purpose—something I never knew I needed. I don’t ever want to leave because this, right here, feels like I’m finally living.

Taehyung's presence is intoxicating. The way he simply exists fills every corner of this room and my mind. In his arms, I forget all my doubts, my fears, and just focus on him, on us. It's like his very being mends the broken parts of me. He makes me feel things I never thought I was capable of feeling.

“What are you thinking about?” Taehyung’s soft voice pulls me from my reverie. His fingers gently tilt my chin upwards, his gaze soft and intent as he looks down at me.

I blink a few times, trying to shake the fog from my mind, then offer a simple response. “Nothing... just that I’m happy when I’m with you.”

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and his hand moves to rest against my cheek. I nearly melt under his touch, the warmth of it sending shivers down my spine. “I’m glad you’re happy with me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sincerity.

A smile, slow and genuine, spreads across my face as my gaze drifts over his features. But then, my eyes catch something next to his bed—a painting. It’s of a half-woman, half-wolf, her form entwined with that of a wolf. The intricate details captivate me, and I can’t tear my eyes away.

Breaking from Taehyung’s hold, I make my way over to the painting, feeling an overwhelming sense of awe as I take in its depth. The colors are striking, the way they bleed into one another, each brushstroke alive with emotion. His mother had been beautiful, and her wolf... powerful.

“I can’t get over how talented you are,” I whisper, my eyes still glued to the masterpiece before me.

“If you think that’s good, you should see what else I’ve done,” Taehyung says, his voice low and soft as he steps up behind me.

I spin around, meeting his gaze, a grin on my face. “You’ll show me?”

He nods, motioning toward his desk, cluttered with pencils and scattered paper. Taehyung retrieves an old, worn black art book from one of the drawers, its pages well-loved. He clears a space on the desk and looks back at me, his eyes now shadowed with a sense of vulnerability. “I’ve never shown anyone this stuff,” he says quietly.

A frown tugs at my brow as I move closer to him. He flips open the book but hesitates before I place my hand on his wrist, stopping him. His green eyes search mine, confusion flickering within them. "You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to."

His expression falls, and he’s silent for a moment, as though contemplating my words. “I know what it’s like to have a part of you that no one else knows about,” I continue, my voice soft. “It’s okay to keep that part of you to yourself if you need to.”

Taehyung’s face softens, and after a beat, he shakes his head, his resolve hardening. “I want you to know every single little thing about me,” he says, his voice firm, his gaze unwavering. “Nothing is a secret. Nothing is hidden. You’re a part of my life now, and I don’t want to hide anything from you. Okay?”

I nod slowly, warmth blossoming in my chest. “Okay.”

His fingers tighten around my wrist, pulling me closer to the desk. One arm slides around my waist as he opens the book before us.

The pages are filled with a collection of perfectly drawn lines, flowers, mandalas, and animals—some complete, others only partially so. It’s a beautifully chaotic mix, a perfect reflection of his mind. A book of art, both organized and messy in its own right.

“Wow,” I murmur, the reverence in my voice palpable. I can’t stop flipping through the pages, each one more mesmerizing than the last.

“Some of them are a bit random,” Taehyung comments from behind me, “but I drew them when I needed to.”

My fingers pause on a series of floral patterns, lavender and roses intertwined in delicate swirls. I run my fingers over the drawings. “I love these,” I say, my heart swelling as I glance back at him.

Taehyung’s eyes soften. “They were my mom’s favorites,” he says with a small nod.

A warm smile spreads across my face. “She had great taste.”

I’m lost in the art, my fingertips grazing the pages, feeling the love and care embedded in each line. It’s as if I can see his soul through these drawings, and I’m in awe of them.

“Do you still draw?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper as Taehyung gently closes the book and tucks it away.

“Sometimes, when I have the chance,” he replies, his gaze fixed on me as he turns away.

I take a moment to look around the room again, the silence between us comforting. “You should. It seems like a great escape—like a safe place,” I muse, my voice distant as I move toward the bed.

Taehyung’s voice, low and sincere, reaches me. “You are my escape.”

I freeze in place, my breath catching in my chest. I turn to look at him, meeting his steady, unwavering gaze. The honesty in his eyes strikes me deeply. The raw emotion in those words—spoken with such confidence, such tenderness—makes my heart race.

Without thinking, I respond, my voice barely above a whisper, “You’re mine too.”

We hold each other’s gaze for what feels like an eternity, the room filled with an overwhelming sense of trust and connection. I’ve never trusted anyone the way I trust Taehyung, and in that moment, I realize that this bond we share is something I never want to lose.

I break the silence, my voice quiet as I turn toward the bed. It looks so comfortable, so inviting. All I want to do is sink into it and lose myself in the warmth of his arms.

But then, something catches my attention. A silver metal edge protrudes from beneath the bed, and my curiosity piques. I bend down, my fingers brushing against the cold surface as I investigate further. There’s a strange small hole in the middle, and I wonder what it could be.

“Pups,” Taehyung’s voice snaps my attention back to him.

“What are these for?” I ask, still puzzling over the oddity under the bed.

He pauses for a moment, then steps forward, his voice a little strained. “They’re not for transportation,” he mutters, his eyes darkening.

My brow furrows. The tension in his voice tells me something is wrong. There’s something about his reaction that feels off. “You told me you wouldn’t hide anything from me.”

Taehyung exhales sharply, his hand running through his hair as he hesitates. Finally, his voice lowers. “They’re for pleasure, Jungkook,” he says, the words hanging heavily in the air.

I stare at him, my mind racing as the realization sets in.

I blink, unsure of what to say. “Oh,” I finally manage, my stomach churning with an unfamiliar mixture of confusion and curiosity.

Taehyung steps away, retreating to his desk, where he pulls out a length of black rope. The sight of it makes my heart race, though I’m unsure of why. My mind swirls with a thousand questions, yet all I can do is watch as he tightens the rope between his hands.

It’s only then that it dawns on me. “Oh,” I repeat, a flush rising to my cheeks as the understanding hits me like a wave.

“I don’t want to push you into anything,” Taehyung says, his voice steady but tinged with uncertainty. “I know you’re not ready for this kind of thing, pups. And if you think I’m bad now, this is a whole different level.”

But I can’t seem to stop myself from asking, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “Who did you used to do this with?” I ask, my voice colder than I intend.

Taehyung’s jaw tightens, and his gaze darkens. The question hangs between us, thick with unspoken tension.

“Girls or boys?” I press, my throat dry.

His gaze meets mine, the intensity in his eyes not lost on me. “I’ve never done this with a girl, not like this. I’ve been with girls, but not in this way.” He pauses, a beat of silence between us before he adds, “I’ve done this with a few guys... but not many.”

Even as the words leave his mouth, a pang of jealousy claws at my chest, a feeling I can’t seem to shake off. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s there, gnawing at me.

“And you like to tie them up?” I ask, my voice rough as I step forward and take the rope from his hands.

Taehyung looks down at me, his eyes unreadable. “Yes.”

“Like a dominant?” I ask, the question almost sounding foreign on my tongue.

“Yes,” he admits, his voice low. “But it’s not about control. It’s just something I enjoy. I don’t need to do it. I don’t need to have control over anyone... but you. It’s just a part of me.”

I can’t help but shake my head, though I understand. “It’s okay to admit it, Taehyung. You like power. You like control. I get it.”

He seems to wrestle with the words before letting out a quiet breath. “I don’t expect anything from you, pups.”

I step closer, my voice steady as I pull the rope from his hands. “Use it on me.”

Taehyung freezes, his eyes wide as he chokes on his words. “What?”

“I want you to use it on me,” I say, my voice firm.

He shakes his head. “Pups, I don’t want you to think you’re ready for this. If you think how I’ve been with you before is intense, this is a whole different level.”

“But you’d never hurt me, right?” I ask, my voice shaky as I meet his gaze.

His expression darkens instantly. “No, of course not. I would never hurt you.”

“Then use it on me,” I insist, my hands trembling as I wrap the black rope around my wrists. “If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you to stop.”

He hesitates, his chest rising and falling with each breath, before he snatches the rope from my hands with a speed that almost makes me flinch.

“Take off your clothes,” he commands, his voice rough.

I obey, pulling off my shirt, then my jeans, my heart pounding in my chest. The heat of his gaze is almost too much to bear, but I don’t look away.

“Your boxers,” he orders, and I comply, letting them fall to the floor.

He stands there, his eyes raking over me shamelessly, and I can feel the weight of his stare all over my body.

“Get on the bed,” he instructs, his voice a commanding whisper.

I nod and move to the bed, my body trembling as I position myself on all fours, feeling exposed, vulnerable. But I don’t care. I trust Taehyung. I trust him with my life.

He grabs my ankles and pulls me backward, his strength overwhelming as he positions me exactly the way he wants. My right ankle is looped with rope, the knot tight as he secures me in place. Then, with a few swift movements, he binds my hands to my ankles.

I’m helpless, bound in place as I sink into the mattress, the sensation of the ropes digging into my skin a constant reminder of my submission.

Taehyung steps back, his eyes flicking over me as I lie there, completely at his mercy. “You tell me to stop, and I will,” he says, his voice a low growl.

I nod. “Okay.”

Then, he returns to the room, a black object in his hand, something strange and unfamiliar. My breath catches in my throat as he begins coating it with lube.

Without saying a word, he moves behind me, the pressure of his thumb pressing gently against my skin. My body tenses, every muscle on edge.

“I can’t wait to watch you come undone,” Taehyung’s voice is dark, almost predatory.

I brace myself for whatever is to come, but the sensations are overwhelming. I can’t think. My body is on fire, and I can’t escape.

The pressure inside me builds, and I feel myself spiraling into something I can’t control.