Chapter Text
“Did Seokjin approach you about being a case study for his book?” Namjoon asks, stooped at the waist from his armchair to massage Taehyung’s head. All of them are returned to the den in their original arrangement, as if their joint liaison hadn’t occurred.
“Lay down with me, Joonie, please,” Taehyung says, complexion still ruddy and glowing with perspiration. His scent is incredible, like melted spice and honeyed earth.
“I’ve told you,” the alpha admonishes his mate, “you can’t have both me and Jimin at the same time. It isn’t proper.”
Jimin is only half-aware of the conversation, orgasm-drowsy and clutched against Taehyung’s chest like a teddy bear. He is subject to the pregnant omega’s whims, but doesn’t think he can muster the will to get up and relocate from his comfortable position. If Taehyung trades him out for his mate, he hopes his sire will let him curl up in his lap.
“Fine,” the omega snipes, throwing his leg over Jimin’s hips and tightening his grip. “Jiminie cuddles are the best cuddles in the world. It’s you who’s missing out.”
With their increased proximity, his abdomen nestles against Jimin’s, pressing against something primal within the other omega. He wants a pup of his own in his belly, and imagining it is no difficulty with the weight of Taehyung’s bump cradled against him.
“I think Seokjin needs to find his own omega to test his theories with, instead of projecting them onto the rest of us,” Yoongi says.
“That’s true,” Namjoon replies, “but you know he would never do anything inappropriate to one of his patients, hyung. You of all people have no reason to be testy about the way he operates. Unorthodox as he is, he’s made our dream a reality, and what he’s doing for you and Jimin—”
Namjoon cuts off mid-sentence, shooting surreptitious glances between the aforementioned pair.
“What has he done?” Taehyung chirps, more alert than his nestmate.
“Nothing baby,” the alpha responds. “I’m just pointing out that you and Jimin couldn’t have a better doctor.”
“No,” the omega persists. “You said it like you had something specific in mind. I want to know what you mean by what he’s doing for Jimin. Is it about his heat?”
If Jimin wasn’t tuned into his father’s emotions, he would have missed the warning sound of Yoongi’s teeth clicking together. The Kims certainly do, even though Namjoon tries to steer the conversation elsewhere.
“That’s private, baby,” he says, “and not polite to ask about.”
It occurs to Jimin that his heat (or lack thereof) would usually be a sore spot for him to talk about. All he feels in the moment is peace.
“Shhhh, Taehyung,” he murmurs. “Let’s sleep now. It’ll make the pup come faster.”
There’s a chuckle all around, and Taehyung does indeed nuzzle in closer, the plush of the comforter securing the omegas in each other’s arms. Jimin dozes off to the warm clutch of his best friend and the sweet smell of amber in his nose.
***
When he wakes, Taehyung is pulling at him, teary-eyed and resistant to his alpha’s prodding.
“Come on, love,” Namjoon tries to calm his distressed omega. “It’s time to go home now.”
“No!” Taehyung shrieks, doing everything he can to keep ahold of Jimin. “He’s mine. I need him!”
Jimin isn’t sure what to do or how to feel about his friend’s sudden outburst. His warm, sleepy satisfaction is dissolving in the wake of his nestmate’s distress. He doesn’t understand what the omega’s end goal is. Neither do the alphas.
“Taehyung,” Alpha Min says gently, “can you calm down and tell us what’s the matter?”
The pregnant omega’s heartbeat races against Jimin’s ear, breath equally stressed. Empathetic as he is, Jimin’s alarm heightens, his hindbrain working into overdrive at some perceived danger. He knows there isn’t any—and if there were, his alpha would protect him from it—but he’s helpless against the surging unease Taehyung’s energy is working him up towards.
Namjoon gets a handle on his omega’s scruff, attempting to dislodge him enough from Jimin to scent him, but Taehyung’s tough little fingers press bruises into his companion’s back.
Jimin whines in pain.
“Don’t take him away from me!” The omega is on the brink of a full-fledged panic.
“I’m not—” Alpha Kim pauses, realizing he’s doing exactly that, even if it’s only in the moment, and continuing to separate them is only going to further escalate the situation.
Sitting back on his heels, Namjoon shrugs helplessly at Yoongi.
“I don’t know what this is. Taehyung is anything but territorial.”
Alpha Min checks Jimin over before he engages with either of their guests. He puts a hand on the omega’s racing pulse, soothing him with his scent. Unspoken reassurance passes between them before Yoongi speaks.
“Are you going to give me a good reason as to why you’re scaring my pup, Taehyung?”
The admonishment cows the pregnant omega, but his hold remains resolute.
“You’re going to take him away from me,” Taehyung says in a small voice, tears starting to form around his waterline. “Everything’s changing so fast.”
“I’ll always be here.” Jimin coos sympathetically at his nestmate, pressing soft kisses to his wet cheeks. “Appa is going to make sure of that. And I change the slowest, Tae-Tae!” He snorts, pressing their foreheads together.
“I can’t be away from you right now,” Taehyung whispers, bursting into silent sobs. “I need you near.”
Namjoon remains at a loss, looking to the elder alpha for help.
“We seem to have a bit of a duck, a fox, and a cabbage situation,” Alpha Min says.
Am I the duck or the cabbage? Jimin thinks.
“Would Jimin staying the night with you settle your omega?” Yoongi asks. “If my pup is amenable?”
Watery brown eyes peer up at him, both omegas stunned by the offer. Jimin feels his friend’s hands squeeze and then lessen their grip, while Namjoon assures him that won’t be necessary.
“We can’t possibly impose on your—” he says, but Yoongi interrupts him.
“If Taehyung needs the reassurance of having Jimin’s scent in his nest, I don’t see why he should be denied that. It’s more a question if you feel up to dealing with these two unruly pups by yourself.”
“Appa?” Jimin queries.
“You haven’t been out of the house in a while,” Yoongi says reassuringly. “It will be good for you to take a breather.”
“Come with me, Jimin,” Taehyung pouts.
***
Jimin looks out the rearview window of the Kim’s pickup truck at the single light illuminated in the house behind him. He clutches at his pink bunny and the strap of his overnight bag, thinking about the gentle scenting his sire had administered before Taehyung tugged him into the backseat. He’s attached to the omega still, Taehyung clutching his arm with his soft, brown curls pressed up against his shoulder.
“I want to stay up for hours!” the omega exclaims. “We can have a spa night and raid my snack supply, and we can come up with ideas for the nursery.”
“You both need sleep,” Namjoon remarks from the driver’s seat. “You’ll have plenty of time tomorrow to play.”
“We’ll have plenty of time tomorrow to sleep,” Taehyung snips. “Night is the best time for secrets.”
“You know I have to go home sometime, Tae,” Jimin says in between the couple discussing sleeping arrangements (mostly Namjoon asking if he’s expected to stay in the guest room.)
“We haven’t even left yet, Jimin,” Taehyung scoffs.
Anxiety creeps into Jimin’s gut. Leaving feels wrong in an inexplicable way. He knows he’s safe with Namjoon and Taehyung, and he would do anything his friend needed to feel better, but the pregnant omega seems to be recovering from his meltdown fairly quickly. He says nothing, contending with his feelings about driving away from his home in silence.
Taehyung is buoyant as he pulls Jimin into his house, leaving Namjoon to carry his nestmate’s bag. He chitters animatedly on his way to the kitchen, prompting Jimin to climb up on a stool and pull down an unopened bag of potato chips, sour belts, and a medium ziploc of pez.
“You can buy these by the scoopful?” Jimin holds the plastic bag of chalk candy in disbelief.
“The dispensers are the worst way to eat them,” Taehyung says seriously. “You have to roll a bunch of them up in the sour belts like a candy kimbap.”
“What if we didn’t get all hyped-up on sugar, and instead watched a relaxing Studio Ghibli movie to fall asleep to?” Alpha Kim asks. “Or spa night. I liked the idea of spa night.”
“We’ll do all that too, don’t worry.” Taehyung is off to the next room, talking to himself about face masks and essences, when Namjoon turns to Jimin with a lingering besotted smile.
“Do your best to encourage him to sleep,” he says. “I have a hard time denying him anything, especially now, and he’s been miserable lately with the morning sickness and hormone changes.”
“I’ll whine about watching a movie and wanting to snuggle, and he’ll nod right off,” Jimin assures him.
“Thank you,” the alpha replies. “I’ll be right down the hall if either of you need anything.”
“I’m sorry about kicking you out of your bed,” Jimin says.
“You’re very special to Taehyung,” Namjoon says in lieu of an answer. “You’re welcome here anytime, no matter the reason. I may be his alpha, and I’ll always guard him, but you’re his nestmate. It does the both of you good to be close. I’m glad that you’re always going to be nearby.”
“I hope so,” Jimin nods.
Namjoon takes his leave, and the omega retreats down the hall after Taehyung.
The scene that greets him should have been expected.
Taehyung has clear plastic bins of skincare strewn across the bed, pulling out cute character face masks and nail polish and sugar scrub and face rollers. Three sour belts extrude from his mouth at once like spaghetti noodles. He waves a little fox mask in Jimin’s direction, and the night descends into adorable chaos.
Later, when Jimin has gotten Taehyung to settle down, very much in the same position they were hours ago—curled against each other with Ponyo playing in the background—the omega admits his duplicity.
“I heard them talking,” he says, “after you fell asleep.”
Jimin frowns, mind tripping backward to the moment Taehyung is talking about. It was something about Dr. Kim being a good doctor and—oh. The omega flushes, wondering how much has been revealed about his medical diagnosis and treatment. Of course the alphas would discuss it—it was not within their nature to conceal knowledge from one another that could benefit their packs, mates, pups.
Jimin does not know how he feels about Taehyung knowing.
“It’s perfectly normal for Appa to be taking care of me in that way,” he begins, but the other omega isn’t finished.
“I won’t pretend that I understand all of it from one conversation, but I’m scared for you, Minnie.”
“Why are you scared?” Jimin whispers. “I’m not.”
“It’s so—” He can’t seem to find the words. “From the way they talked, it sounded like you’ve been tricked, or at the very least, haven’t had any choice.”
“Tricked me into what?” Jimin asks.
“Certainly,” Taehyung says, “in extraordinary circumstances, an alpha takes on the responsibility for his pup’s physical needs, but with it comes the expectation that it’ll eventually end. You’ll find another alpha, and—”
“I don’t want it to end,” Jimin replies, “and I certainly don’t want another alpha.”
“Jimin, he talked about mating you.”
“He better. He promised me.”
Taehyung sucks in a gasp that means he’s either trying to regulate his emotions or he’s gearing up for a fight. After some consideration, he appears to take the former route.
“Will you scent me?” the pregnant omega mumbles. “Getting stressed isn’t good for me.”
Jimin does as he asks, exchanging the mellow crocus of his scent with Taehyung’s warm amber. It suffuses the nest with comfort, although neither of them are done with the conversation.
“I’m scared,” Taehyung says again, “because you’re always in that house with him, and you’ve never allowed yourself a moment to breathe beyond him. I would ask if he’s really what you want, but how can you know? How can you be certain about anything when you don’t know any better?”
“Don’t talk about my father like that,” Jimin replies. “You know he’s a good person; he’s kept me safe, he loves me, he’s given up so much for me. He’s what I want.”
“I just don’t want you to regret it—”
“This is a good thing, Tae-Tae,” Jimin says seriously. “For as long as I can remember, as long as I’ve understood what an alpha is in relation to me, I’ve been terrified: of leaving, of losing everything I care most about, of having to exist on my own, but all of that’s settled now. Appa has always known what’s best for me, and I don’t ever want to leave him.”
“The way he talked about you,” Taehyung whispers, “was so…primal, like he couldn’t keep himself from you. It wasn’t the way an alpha sire fulfills his duty to his pup nowadays. It was like the stories you read about the first wolves, alphas building their pack lines by impregnating their pups—”
“They did that to protect them,” Jimin snuffs against his pillow. “It’s not wrong. It’s just different from how things are now.”
“I understand him easing you into things, even for your first heat and first litter; you’ve always been a late bloomer. And I’m sure Alpha Min will make it good for you. I just want you to think about what it all means—so much is going to change.
“Nothing is going to change,” Jimin insists. “I’m going to stay in the same house I was born in and raise my own pups there with my sire. Mine and yours will be the best of friends, and things will carry on like they always have. I’m happy, Tae-Tae. Be happy for me.”
The two of them doze, on the cusp of falling asleep.
“We’re not going to see each other for probably the next month, if your father is as intent on fucking you pregnant as he said he is. Make sure to call me if he lets you off his cock. We can compare notes on the best orgasms.”
“Don’t think about my Appa’s cock!” Jimin yelps indignantly, batting Taehyung with a pillow. “Keep your fantasies to Namjoonie and Dr. Kim, thank you very much.”
Taehyung laughs as they finally set off to sleep.
***
It isn’t until late the next evening when Jimin prepares to go home again. He stays in Taehyung’s nest as long as he can to pacify the pregnant omega and saturate the fabric with his scent. They spend the day cuddling, watching movies, and being brung their meals in bed—Jimin thinks the life of a pregnant omega is one he’ll very much like.
When Namjoon packs up the truck, Taehyung is napping, but they’ve said their goodbyes for now.
Jimin leaves his pajamas next to his nestmate’s pillow and kisses him sweetly.
“You’ll let Taehyung stay at home all by himself?” the omega asks as he and Alpha Kim climb in the truck.
“I let Taehyung do a lot of things some alphas wouldn’t let their omegas do,” Namjoon replies, taking in Jimin’s anxious scent. “Why does that distress you so much?”
“What if you never came back?” Jimin speculates. “What if you left him there all alone, even if you didn’t mean to?”
“You and your father truly are cut from the same cloth, aren’t you?” the alpha says.
“What else would I be?” the omega replies.
It’s a long moment before either of them speak. The car ride is a bit winding, but the scenery is pristine and untouched by human interference. Jimin is proud of his kind for holding onto it for so long.
“He’s what you’d choose, for certain?” Namjoon finally asks.
“Yes, I’m certain,” Jimin replies.
“Then let me be the first to congratulate you on finding your alpha,” Namjoon says.
“Why do you think Tae wouldn’t—”
“Tae has talked about you joining us for the longest time,” the alpha replies. “He’s good like that—always willing and eager to share his own happiness, and I love him so much, I would have agreed if that’s what the both of you had wanted. There’s a common misconception about alphas—human based, I presume—that of course we’d want as many omegas as we can get our hands on.”
“You don’t want to share Taehyung,” Jimin reaches the conclusion first.
“Much like your father doesn’t want to share you,” the alpha replies. “I can understand where he’s coming from much easier than Taehyung.”
“So what’s the point of all this?” Jimin says, an understanding between them about what all he’s referring to.
“Once your father has you, he’s not going to let you go. I hope you’re prepared for that kind of love.”
“I want it more than anything,” Jimin says softly.
When they pull up to the house, it’s dark. Not a single light is lit inside.
“I’ll leave you here,” Namjoon says warily. “If you can’t reach your bag, I’ll bring it by another time.”
“Silly Namjoonie,” Jimin says, hefting the pack over his seat. “Go take care of Tae-Tae. It’ll give me time to catch up.”
“We’ll probably see you around the next moon,” the alpha chuckles, “but I cant imagine it being before then.
Jimin waits at the end of the driveway, waving goodbye as the truck passes out of sight. He hefts his bag up the stone path, taking in the darkened sight of the house. When he thinks about it, he can’t remember the last time he’s seen his home without the warm illumination from within. Even when their outings carry on into the evening, they remember to leave some lights on for their return. It’s more than a bit odd.
The door is an obstacle the omega has never had to overcome before. He feels like he should knock, which is absurd. Something is off.
Jimin opens the door and smacks into a wave of saffron. He recoils from the intangible barricade, unease curling in his gut. He knows beyond his father’s scent is home and his own place within—somewhere in there is his nest and the scent of safety and happiness suffusing it—but it smells purely of an alpha’s den at the entryway, and he is encroaching on his territory.
The omega’s instincts are screaming at him that should he step inside, he’s going to be held down and ravaged. He cannot cross the threshold. His wolf and his own sense of self-preservation will not allow him to. He cannot trespass on an alpha’s territory without dire consequences.
Fear drips into Jimin’s veins at being barred from all the security he has in the world. He has never been denied entry; he has never experienced a separation from his own sire. Fleetingly, he considers that leaving warranted a punishment, but his father’s discipline had always been gentle and corrective of his misbehavior, not retaliatory or cruel. This is something else.
Jimin leans in curiously, indulging in the spice of his alpha sire’s scent. It’s thick and heady, smelling of power and virility and dominance and arousal. A tremble curls through the omega’s limbs, lingering between his legs. He feels the compulsion to expose his throat and rub his chin against the door trim—to satisfy his yearning and defy the clear warning with his own scent—when he spies the figure standing in the dark hallway.
The omega freezes. A trill of surprise and a lingering query escapes him. Am I unwelcome?
He’s answered with a growl.
Jimin whips around and sprints down the drive.
The crunch of gravel underfoot is an immediate peril; safer is the dirt path to the garden and beyond. The sun has gone, leaving behind a dark, warm wind. It barely breaches Jimin’s lungs as he flees through the yard, direction preternaturally toward the woods. This was always the inevitability, was it not?
He makes it to the outer-fence line of the garden when he hears the alpha come tearing out of the house, a massive black shadow against the dim of twilight. This is what he wanted—his sire to give into the compulsion to chase him—and yet Jimin must not stop, cannot stop, adrenaline superseding all other processes in his system and an emotion he cannot put a name to. His delight is sickening; his fear is euphoric.
Jimin does not make it very far.
Although created with omegan swiftness, he is untried by his domesticated life. The stretching of his limbs is the first real tempering from the elements he has experienced. His eyes adjust well to the night, even with only a sliver of the moon’s light penetrating between the leaves, but his footing is unsure. All it will take is an ill-positioned branch to make him stumble or a cluster of branches to strike him across the face.
Alpha will hurt you worse than either of those things, the omega thinks, stumbling onward toward an uncertain hiding place.
But he’ll make it hurt so good.
Jimin could scream, for all the emotion welling up between his ribs. The fear and the wildness and the desperation and the ecstasy don’t have room to fit inside him all at once. He’s about to, before the wind is knocked out of him from crashing into something unrelenting and immovable. He doesn’t have time to think before he’s wrenched down to the ground, his sight immediately taken from him.
The omega is pinned facedown. Forceful hands whip a blindfold across his eyes and tie his hands behind his back. All Jimin can smell is the undisturbed earth beneath his nose. All he can hear is his frantic breaths and the sharp tightening of his fabric bonds.
“And when he caught me, he pinned me down to the forest floor and—”
Jimin is aware of what happens next. He’s read about it, dreamed about it, listened to enough of Taehyung’s stories to squirm for nights afterward, wondering if it would ever be his turn.
His mind derails when he is hauled up and over a shoulder like successfully hunted game.
The alpha doesn’t speak, and his scent is far from Jimin’s nose, lost in the warm breeze and the newness of the forest.
Uncertainly creeps into Jimin that this alpha is not THE alpha, that the moment he’s always feared has finally come, and he is being carried off to be claimed by an alpha who is not his—
Jimin thrashes violently, all but crashes down from his slung perch, when brutal arms keep him ensnared. His position shifts with much less comfort as he’s hauled away, dropped off a shoulder and feet trailing against the dense forest floor as he continues to fight. He trips and nearly falls again, and the swooping sensation heightens his terror.
“Let go of me, let go!” he shrieks, batted about like a ragdoll as he tries to break the hold on him. There’s little use of his legs, flailed kicks more likely to injure his own feet than accomplish anything concrete, and even less use of his arms. Swinging his head about wildly, Jimin finds solidity and bites down with his sharp teeth.
The omega expects a slap in retaliation, to be unceremoniously dropped or shaken, but the alpha carries on, a hand wrapping around the back of his neck.
“Fight me as hard as you need to, pup,” Yoongi replies, deathly calm against his ear. “I’ll still give you what I promised.”
Jimin nearly sobs in relief, reoriented in the world. His jaw eases up, the smell of blood welling underneath his nose, and he licks contritely at the bite, aware he’s snapped down on his father’s shoulder. The omega is hindered by the fabric of his shirt, but he knows how fast alphas heal. His attempts are meant to soothe, and he tucks his head into the juncture of his appa’s neck, kitten-licking in apology.
“That’s all right, sweetness,” Yoongi’s chuckle is a deep reverberation through his chest. “I enjoyed that more than I thought I would.”
Jimin flushes beneath his blindfold, wanting to please his father further. His teeth gnaw lower, little pinpricks against a collarbone, and he gives it his best effort to fight his way free again.
In response, Alpha Min’s scent grows darker and more intense, finding a handhold under Jimin’s arms as he climbs the inconsequential stairs into the house. When they bypass the overwhelming scent marker through the doorway, Jimin moans involuntarily. Vaguely he’s aware that his sire has staked his territory on every room of their home; his omega is drenched in the claim as they enter, going limp with the awareness that he’s been added to that claim. There’s no trace of his own scent anywhere; this is wholly alpha’s den.
As he’s half-drug/half-carried through the house, Jimin lets out a petulant whine at the unrelenting grip underneath his arms. He’s tiring from the struggle, and he wants his nest. Appa didn’t take down his nest, right? The omega’s squirming begins anew, twisting his head back and forth to get a sense of the bedroom, preparing for devastation. If his meticulously crafted hideaway has been erased, or altered in any way, Jimin thinks he’ll bite again—snap his piercing, little omega teeth down—on his father’s hand this time.
Jimin must telegraph his forthcoming action, because his sire takes him by the neck like a scruffed kitten, diverting his attention.
“I made a concession for the first one, because you were startled,” Alpha Min says, “but should you bite me again, I’ll reciprocate.”
“You said you liked it,” Jimin breathes, mind fixated on the idea of his father’s teeth in other parts of him.
“My alpha will take it as a challenge,” Yoongi replies, “and want to put you in your place.”
“My place is here,” Jimin says, voice small but certain, “in whatever position you want me to be.”
He gasps as he’s moved with great fervor and dropped onto their bed, stomach swooping as he lands into his pristine nest, scent profile back to rights once more. The effect of his scent only remaining in the six-by-six-foot swath of comfort pushes him further into a submissive headspace. This is his utmost purpose; for the moment, his only purpose—he is to submit to whatever alpha gives him, take it well, and fulfill his sire’s desire for an omega, a mate, and pups to continue his line. Jimin’s less-noble thoughts wanted his father’s cock in his cunt, drenching his womb with the evidence of their desperate yearning for one another at last consummated, the final taboo breached and tying them irrevocably together. He keens as he’s manhandled onto his stomach.
Yoongi is on him in an instant, rough in the way he directs Jimin’s head down and twists the omega’s hips into position. He yanks at the collar of his pup’s sweater, easy to pull down his torso and have at the unblemished expanse of his throat and collar bones.
The alpha’s mouth against the join of Jimin’s neck and shoulder is a startling sensory input, even moreso with his eyesight and his ability to freely touch removed from him. His father covers him wholly, joining their hips in a simulated mount; thick, hard cock grinding against the omega’s backside and between his legs. He feels the heat of it, even between their layers and layers of clothing. Too many layers. Too much separation.
When Yoongi curls his hand under the omega’s sweater, stroking up to his chest, Jimin cries out. He grabs at his sire’s hand, instinctively trying to protect the sensitive area of his underdeveloped tits, the tissue yet to grow until pregnancy hormones fill them out. The newness of having the buds teased is a startling shock to his arousal, and spins his mind into dark corners once again—corners where the alpha playing with him is a stranger, toying with his nubile little body until he’s gobbled up and devoured by the stranger’s insatiable lust.
It’s enough to press against the fondling, reveling in the caress until there’s a stronger pinch to his nipple. Jolting, Jimin tries to move up the bed and is dragged back down. He struggles against the hold on him, and when that too is easily disregarded, he fights in earnest. He bucks, trying to roll over, throw the alpha off him, get up—
Yoongi’s hands encircle the omega’s waist to keep him in place before delving under his sweater to take fistfuls of his chest. The pain of the methodical squeezing is inconsequential in comparison to the jolts of pleasure it sends zipping down his abdomen.
“Get it off,” Jimin whines.
His face is swathed in fuzzy cashmere before it slips off his head, a chill barely brushing his body before his father’s heat is plastered against him again—relentless, presumptuous—drawing pleasure out of him like a bird sucking nectar from a flower. He feels like he could cum from the sensation of his tits being fondled alone, until the alpha twists him on his side and takes one in his mouth.
“Oh, oh,” the omega cries, reaching for his blindfold. He wants to see his father attached to his chest—he wants to see—
The stimulation is all to much. Hands press low on his belly, the alpha sucks on his nipple like he might draw something out of it, and his hardness still sits urgently against the swell between his legs. He’s burning, and without his eyesight, every sensation is dialed up to the max, beyond his ability to contain within his body.
Yoongi flips him onto his back to administer the same treatment to his other nipple, pinning Jimin’s legs to hump his cock against his protected mound. The rough fabric grinds against Jimin’s clit and cocklet, causing friction and pulling tight against his entrance. He’s going to cum, he’s going to cum, he’s going to—
It feels like a dam bursting inside of him—tight, hot pressure low in his belly before he’s gushing slick.
It soaks through his denim shorts, running in rivulets down his inner thighs, and coating his father’s cock through his own clothing. Jimin finally manages to whip the blindfold off, his breath a shocked gurgle as he feels his insides release. His pelvic floor feels like it’s gaping, and the both of them hurry to help him shimmy out of his soaked bottoms to see.
Alpha Min looks feral as he peels his son’s underwear away from his cunt, dipping a finger inside his slicked heat in shocked adoration.
Jimin can’t even feel it, and the exploratory press of his own hand reveals the loose, silken quality of his hole. He’s not in heat, and yet his body has deigned to open, truly a bloomed flower ready for pollination.
With his inspection, he has failed to notice Yoongi shucking off the last of his clothing, the alpha climbing into position between his legs—all hard, chiseled lines of muscle and intention. He tilts Jimin’s hips, hands brutal against the omega’s thighs, and sinks his cock inside of his son’s newly ripened pussy in one, unrelenting, solid thrust.