Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Jimin hates days when the doctor visits. Hates the poking and prodding at his body. Hates the smell of latex and the occasional metallic clatter of medical implements. 

His father sits in the corner of the room for propriety’s sake. Dr. Kim has been Jimin’s doctor since infancy, but it’s an alpha sire’s job to make sure the doctor doesn’t do anything untoward with his omega son. 

“It’s unexpected that you haven’t had your first heat yet, Jimin,” Dr. Kim says, assessing the omega’s scent gland through the protective layer of medical gloves. “How much interaction have you had with alphas your age?”

Jimin tries to not visibly shrink in on himself. He’s just past 21, and he knows omegas statistically experience their first cycle quite a bit earlier than that. His father always reassured him that there was nothing wrong with him; he was merely a late bloomer. As for the alphas his age—

“Jimin prefers to stay at home,” Alpha Min supplies for him. “There’s nothing wrong with being a bit more reserved, especially around young alphas.”

“Certainly not,” Dr. Kim replies with a chuckle. “Young alphas rut too easily and barely sustain a knot for more than a minute. Following a more traditional route has its perks. You aren’t missing much, pup.”

Jimin preens a bit, feeling complimented for something most of his peers mock him for, although the truth of the matter is, most of his reservations come from fear. He’s scared of going into heat, scared of mating, scared of bonding, scared of getting pupped and everything that goes along with it—but most of all—he’s scared of drawing an alpha’s attention and being forced to leave his father. So he doesn’t think about it, content to tamp down the urges of his body and delay the inevitable for as long as possible.

The fear must leech into his scent because Dr. Kim sniffs the air and purses his lips.

“How is your slick production when you do get aroused?” he asks.

Jimin goes wide-eyed and glances at his father.

“It’s not…I don’t—” Jimin stutters.

“At all?” Dr. Kim says in surprise. He turns to the alpha. “Would it be all right to do a pelvic examination? That’s really uncommon for his age. It’s a crucial time to be treating any infertility issues before his first heat hits and does damage to his system.”

If anything, Jimin’s scent gets more distressed. He looks to his father again, eyes pleading for security, for reassurance, for help.

“Appa,” he whispers, and the cry draws his alpha sire to him like a moth to flame.

“You’re all right pup,” the alpha says. He looks to Dr. Kim with an assessing gaze. “How much do you have to touch him?” he asks.

“Not at all,” Dr. Kim replies, “if you want to handle it yourself and follow my instructions.”

“Is that okay, sweetheart? Can Appa touch you?” Alpha Min asks.

Jimin nods, biting his lip as he’s guided to lay on his back and spread his legs. There’s a guarded moment between alpha sire and omega pup when the former rucks up the silky fabric of Jimin’s examination gown to expose the bare clench of his body beneath. The omega breathes shallowly, his chest moving like the beat of a hummingbird’s wing. 

Alpha Min turns to the doctor for help.

“External stimulation first,” Dr. Kim instructs before he turns to address the omega. “How do you like to touch a yourself, Jimin? Your anatomy gives you a variety of options. Omegas are virtually a conduit for pleasure. ”

Jimin’s soft crocus scent wilts in response to the question. His face goes pale and the muscles of his legs quiver in anxiety.

“I don’t,” he whines, looking at his alpha sire as though he can’t decide if it’s more shameful to touch himself or to admit to having never done so.

“That’s perfectly all right,” Dr. Kim tries to soothe, but Jimin’s scent continues to eep out bitter notes. 

“Can you tell me what’s making you so upset, flower?” Alpha Min strokes a comforting hand down his son’s knee.

Jimin does not think he can explain what he’s feeling, how he’s afraid of so many things, all of them stemming from the expectation of what’s between his legs. He choses a lesser concern.

“I don’t want it to hurt,” he says.

“Your appa and I are going to work extra hard to make sure it doesn’t,” Dr. Kim replies. “You’re such a good boy. All you deserve is comfort and ease, and an alpha who loves you so much he would never dream of hurting you.”

Jimin seems to go a bit floaty from the praise. 

“No one could love me more than Appa,” he says.

“You’re right, pup,” Alpha Min replies. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I would never hurt you.”

“However you want to proceed,” Dr. Kim gently directs. “Although I can’t provide lubricant, because we need to be able to tell if his body is capable of slick production on its own.” 

Yoongi huffs out a breath. He’s so concerned for his baby, desperate for this to be easy for him, but if it was, Jimin wouldn’t be his stunningly beautiful omega pup with all his complexities and his sweetly guarded nature. He belongs to an older time, where an alpha would have killed to prove his worth to him and built him the most impressive den in the country before even attempting to bed him. The alphas of this generation think dinner and a few convenience store gifts are an adequate courting method, and luckily, Jimin has had nothing but disdain for them.

The alpha moves his hand down the delicate skin of Jimin’s thigh. He’s relieved to find his son doesn’t flinch under his touch, trusting and pliant. He spreads his omega pup’s legs wider, exposing the flawless column of Jimin’s cocklet, clitoris, and vaginal opening. There’s so much for him to work with.

Yoongi licks two of his fingers and trails them down to the omega’s lids. He massages in tight circles, featherlight at first, then varying pressure according to the sound of Jimin’s hitched breaths. He tries to keep himself detached from the sensation of silken heat under his fingers, but when his son lets out a choked whine and tilts his head back with a shock of pleasure, it’s difficult keep his alpha at bay. Seokjin being in the room helps.

“That should be enough stimulation to check,” the doctor says. “One finger at first.”

Yoongi gently prods at Jimin’s opening and finds it tight and dry. He tries to dip just the tip of his finger inside and freezes when the omega’s sounds turn distinctly pained.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin lifts his head up, eyes welling with tears.

“No, no, sweetness, you’re perfect.” Yoongi soothes him, bending over his shaking frame. He cradles the omega, holding him tight and scenting him. “You can just stay my baby forever.” He runs his hands down Jimin’s sides until he’s squirming from the tickling. The most precious giggle bursts out of his son and all is right with the world once again.

“Jimin,” Seokjin says softly, so as not to alarm the omega, “I know this is not what you imagined your first experience to be like, but would you be all right with your alpha sire giving you your first orgasm?”

Yoongi feels his son tense before he turns his attention to the doctor. His pup’s demeanor closes off once again, turning inward at what Yoongi assumes is a conversation with his omega.

After a moment, he says, “Appa gets to decide.”

“Okay, pup,” Yoongi replies. He takes a moment to mull over his options and brushes a few velvety strands out of Jimin’s face. His son’s trust in him is absolute, and as his alpha, he cannot betray that trust.

“I have to ask you to leave, Seokjin,” he says.

“Of course,” Dr. Kim replies. “I’ll wait in the hall.” The alpha takes up his tablet and exits the room. The door closes with finality behind him.

Jimin clutches his hospital gown and peers up at his father.

“Appa,” Jimin asks, “is it all right?”

“What do you mean, flower?” Yoongi asks.

“Do you really want to?” the omega says.

“I’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe and healthy, Jimin,” the alpha replies. “I want nothing but the best for you.”

“That’s why I want— I’m okay with it being you,” the omega stutters. “I know no one will take care of me like you do.”

“Okay,” Yoongi says. “I want you to lay back and relax. Let me know right away if anything feels bad.”

“Okay,” Jimin parrots.

Alpha Min pushes up his son’s hospital gown again and considers. He doesn’t let himself take too long, worried that Jimin will grow uncomfortable and perceive it as somehow being his fault. The alpha steadies himself, steadies his wolf. He’s taking care of his pup. That’s all this is. Omegas sometimes need intimate reassurance or medical care that can fall to none but their family members. Jimin has no one else. 

He tries to hold on to that clinical detachment as he sinks down between the omega’s legs, huffing a warm breath that has Jimin squirming on the guest bed of their home. There’s no scent of slick to guide him, so Yoongi follows the bright, rich spot of arousal trying to drip from the pup’s cocklet and laps at it, searching out more of the delectable taste. 

Jimin’s breathing goes haywire, although the rest of his body stills like a deer straining toward danger, head cocked in curiosity and the anticipation of discovery.

Yoongi’s tongue slides lower, searching between his folds while a hand comes up to clasp his omega pup’s wet length, soft strokes as he puts more intent pressure where his tongue is.

“Appa?” Jimin asks, and no further question is needed—he’s bewildered by the sensation between his legs and where it leads—so his alpha sire persists without addressing his confusion. The pup will have his answer soon enough.

“Ohhh,” Jimin shudders, “ohhh. Alpha.”

Yoongi does not correct his son’s slip up.

“Let it out, sweetness,” he coaxes. 

He focuses his efforts on keeping Jimin hot and slick, a simulacra of what the omega’s body is supposed to do. He circles around his tight opening but never delves inside, following Dr. Kim’s instruction so the test for slick production goes untainted. 

Jimin bucks every once in a while, soft tummy flexing and hands twisting in the sheets. It seems like any moment the spring will snap and he’ll try to flee, sensation too intense for him. He needs a hand guiding the back of his neck, an alpha’s weight pressing him down with safety and security, but Yoongi can’t do that for him. Perhaps he should have had Seokjin stay to help gentle the pup.

“Appa,” Jimin cries, “I’m scared.”

Yoongi is so proud of him for voicing his fears instead of acting on them—trying to push the alpha away and perhaps hurting himself in the process—he knows that he’s safest following his Appa’s orders, but his fight or flight instinct is having trouble cooperating.

“Don’t be scared,” Yoongi says, throwing a snarl into his voice. “Let it come.”

The appearance of his alpha sire’s voice is like flipping a circuit breaker in Jimin’s endocrine system. His entire body goes pliant and relaxed, scent wafting soft flower petals as he shudders toward his climax.

Yoongi hooks his arms around his omega pup’s thighs and closes his mouth over Jimin’s clit. He circles it relentlessly with his tongue before sucking hard.

Jimin tenses up again, although it’s with the strength of a milk-drunk kitten. His feet batter against his father’s back as he lets out a wail.

“Appa, appa, appa!”

The omega arches as he experiences his first ever taste of ecstasy, and it’s breathtaking. His body trembles, chest heaving and toes curling as his mouth opens around a silent cry. Streaks of white stain the underside of his gown and drip down his stomach. 

Yoongi strokes the underside of Jimin’s thigh to calm him, then fits his pinky finger into his entrance to check his slick production.

The omega squeaks.

Unfortunately, any wetness present seems to be from the alpha’s mouth. He calls Dr. Kim back into the room, who switches into treatment mode. 

Meanwhile, Yoongi helps his pup elevate on the pillows of the bed and focuses on keeping him from spiraling once again. 

“Are you okay, sweet pup?” he asks. 

Jimin nods, a bit glassy-eyed, and curls toward his alpha sire. He seems quite floaty after his orgasm, and Yoongi places a settling hand on his neck and presses close to scent him. The pup closes his eyes, implicitly trusting and so sweet.

“You did so good for your appa,” Dr. Kim joins in the reassurance, changing out his gloves to open a fresh syringe and a vial of—something. The doctor fixes the syringe with a needle to draw out the contents of the bottle.

Yoongi doesn’t know what it’s for, although it’s quite obvious who it’s intended for, and his saffron scent gets more intense at the thought of whatever that is coming anywhere near his pup.

Sensing the change in the room, Jimin opens his eyes, spies the exceptionally long needle, and whimpers in fear.

“What is that?” Alpha Min snaps with a bit too much bite in it.

Dr. Kim becomes alert to Jimin’s burgeoning distress.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he lowers the implement cautiously, “you’re not going to get the needle.” He makes his movements slow and precise as he twists off the nub and replaces it with a long, soft-plastic tube. Then he addresses Yoongi’s concern. “The treatment for vaginismus is alpha semen—non-viable, of course—although without the onset of Jimin’s cycle, fertilization is highly unlikely. Dousing the vaginal wall will stimulate slick production and softening of the vaginal tissue so that future intercourse does not prove painful to him.”

Jimin already seems to have guessed where the plastic tube will end up going and is not amenable to the idea.

“I don’t want it, Appa,” he says, eyes wide with panic. “I don’t want it.” The distress in his scent quickens.

Yoongi can’t take it anymore. His son’s discomfort and stress has gone on for too long. Before the pup can work himself up into a full-blown omega drop, the alpha intervenes. 

“We’ll try something else,” he tells Dr. Kim. His own alpha is rearing his head, barking with derision. How dare he try to put inferior seed in his omega pup!

Alpha Min has to remind himself that Seokjin is his friend, and he, too, only wants what’s best for Jimin.

Dr. Kim doesn’t argue with him. He merely purses his lips in thought.

“You’re certainly welcome to provide him a supplement yourself,” he ventures. “We can discuss treatment options and come up with the best solution of how to proceed.”

The doctor pulls out a tablet and thumbs through to an app. When he finds what he was apparently looking for, he passes the device over to the still prone omega.

“Can you fill this out for me while I talk to your appa, Jimin?” he asks. It appears to be a survey of sorts. 

Yoongi spies the first couple of questions concerning attraction and sexual dynamic preferences. 

     1. I am attracted to:

          +Exclusively Alphas

          +Exclusively Betas

          +Exclusively Omegas

          +Combination

          +Willing to Explore

          +Unsure

     2. I would prefer my future sexual dynamic to be:

          +Exclusively monogamous with my mate

          +Primarily monogamous with my mate within a pack

          +Polyamorous within the confines of a pack (regardless of a mate)

          +Unmated and sexually open

          +Unmated and sexually adverse

          +Unsure

     3. I would be comfortable receiving sexual care/relief from the following (check all that apply):

          +My Sire/Dam

          +My Sibling (Under my Sire’s observation and consent)

          +A close relative (specify)

          +A close friend

          +A trained professional

          +A prospective mate

     4. I would prefer to receive sexual care/relief from the following:

          +My Sire/Dam

          +My Sibling

          +A close relative (specify)

          +A close friend

          +A trained professional

          +A prospective mate

The alpha is pleasantly surprised with the level of choice suggested by the quiz and how it seemingly doesn’t assume anything based on secondary dynamics. The survey runs upwards of 70 questions, so it’s likely that his son will be occupied for a while.

Yoongi scoots off the bed to talk to Seokjin. He gestures to the doctor to follow him out of the room and closes the guest bedroom door behind them. 

The alphas walk into the main area of the house, where Yoongi starts a kettle for tea. He sets his palms against the counter and leans forward, which causes a pleasant burn up his arms. He scratches his chin against his shoulder in thought.

“I’m not a specialist in omega sexual psychology,” Dr. Kim begins, “but I am of the opinion that Jimin has developed a complex which has caused his reproductive cycle to remain dormant. Hopefully the results of the test will give us more definitive answers, but it’s likely his inability to produce slick is a result of mental anxieties and stressors around what will happen to him once his heat cycle occurs.”

Yoongi knows his pup is quite conservative, even by society’s standards. He completed the level of education that was allotted for his sub-gender, never voiced a desire to labor beyond the home, and is perfectly content to listen to Yoongi’s judgement on what excursions were appropriate for him to experience out in the world (with his alpha sire accompanying him, of course.)

“How could he be stressed?”

Yoongi feels close to tears. To be so unaware of his pup’s fear growing right under his nose—

“There’s no doubt in my mind that you have provided Jimin a home with the utmost safety and security,” Dr. Kim hastens to explain. “I believe he’s considering his heat to be a crossroads in life where that safety and security is possibly taken away from him as he logically follows the next step—which is being mated and allocated to another alpha.”

“He has to know I would never choose a mate for him who couldn’t meet all of his needs and love him wholly,” Yoongi replies.

“Well—and here comes the tricky bit—” the doctor says. “I think Jimin hasn’t been able to seriously consider another alpha’s advances, because he’s biologically inclined to compare each of them to the stronger, more experienced, and very protective alpha he has at home.”

“So whichever way you look at it,” Yoongi says, “I’m the reason he’s developed this problem.”

“That’s not quite the conclusion I was suggesting you draw,” Seokjin replies.

“Then what were you suggesting?” the alpha asks. He pours hot water into the cups and lets the tea leaves steep in their silver spoons.

“Treatment options,” Dr. Kim replies. “The proverbial ‘two birds with one stone.’ Jimin needs to have a contingency plan available for when he goes into heat, and I think the best solution is for you to be the one who introduces him to all his firsts.”

Yoongi recoils.

A smaller, darker part of him latches onto the idea and curls his fist around it.

He contemplates slamming that fist in a drawer.

“I know it’s less-often practiced these days,” the other alpha continues, “but there’s plenty of scientific basis in the phenomenon of sire/pup copulation. It’s an evolutionary failsafe. When packs were comprised of single family units, the alpha sire was responsible for breeding all of his omega children to fortify his bloodline. Having an omega stolen by a rival alpha virtually meant annihilation.” 

Alpha Min forgoes any desire he had for tea.

“You make it sound like we’re a case study you want to observe for your dissertation,” he growls.

Seokjin shrugs.

“Societally speaking, we’ve reached a point where every alpha is isolated unto himself. We haven’t squared away with the ramifications of suppressing our natural instincts. I’ve theorized that such stigmatization has largely been impacted by the introduction of human perceptions and taboos. In the forest packs, they still uphold the tradition of wolves. It’s those of us immersed in the human world who have sacrificed personal strength for a safer, albeit domesticated existence.”

“And I thought we lived in a conservative part of the country,” Yoongi says.

“Conservative or not,” Dr. Kim says, “you have to understand that Jimin has been crafted by your own DNA to be the best suited to attracting you as a mate, because biologically, his alpha sire will always be crux of his protection and safety. His body is primed for it, as is yours. You already have the best rapport I’ve seen within a domesticated household, and the law dictates that it is your right.”

“And when it comes to Jimin’s right?” Yoongi asks.

Seokjin sighs.

“I had to sew up a girl last week because some whelp got too excited and ripped his knot out of her too early,” he says. “Professionally, I see this as being a beneficial experience for your son, to be able to practice his instincts in the safest possible environment with the person he trusts most. It’s serendipitous that it would be mutually beneficial for you as well.”

“There’s a lot more to instincts than—”

“I’m all done, Dr. Kim,” Jimin calls as he emerges from the guest bedroom. He waddles a bit with his apparently (still) sticky gown clinging to his skin. His eyes are glassy and he stifles a yawn in front of the alphas.

“Go ahead and get changed,” Yoongi instructs him. “Go down for a nap if you need to.”

The omega doesn’t need any prompting at politeness.

“I don’t know why I feel so sleepy,” Jimin mumbles. “Thank you for coming to see me, Dr. Kim.”

“That’s perfectly all right,” Seokjin replies. “These things happen. Thank you for being so good for your appa.”

A sweet little smile blossoms on Jimin’s face. He hands over the tablet and makes his exit.

Dr. Kim scrolls through the completed pages, assessing. He hums a little, and while Yoongi is tempted to lean over his shoulder and read along, he refrains.

“I can send you a full report tomorrow,” Seokjin says, thumbing through answers and inclination percentages. “Right off the bat I can see that he’s not sexually adverse. He’s flagged the generally expected omegan preferences—hand feeding, nesting, scenting, breeding kink—” 

Yoongi decides he will have that tea now.

“His submission threshold is considerably high,” Seokjin notes. 

“What does that mean exactly?” Yoongi asks. It seems like the safer conversation thread to follow.

“Well,” the doctor says, “submission is often the primer for sexual arousal in omegas, but it seems like submission is Jimin’s baseline. That doesn’t necessarily shed light on anything, but the pup likely needs something more stimulating for it to be an effective form of foreplay. Arousal might be difficult for him if he’s not shown a heavy hand.”

There are a lot of words spinning around Yoongi’s mind. He takes a sip of tea and realizes he forgot to add sugar. The herbal blend is bitter in his mouth. 

“So treatment options,” Seokjin says. “I think there needs to be a twofold approach. As I mentioned before, alpha semen is the best cure for vaginismus; once a day since we have no parameters for when his heat might start and it’ll be dangerous if his body hasn’t decided to cooperate before then. I recommend coating the vaginal canal before he goes to sleep for the most prolonged exposure.”

Right. Yoongi had forgotten about that.

“Then there’s coaxing out his instincts to be receptive to an alpha—scenting, simulated mounting, scruffing—I’ll send you the list. The test indicates that he might find predator/prey games particularly stimulating.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows raise.

“You think it’s a good idea to hunt my son in his own home?” he asks.

Seokjin waves that damnable tablet in the air.

“It scored for him at the top of the list.”

Chapter Text

“Come here, flower,” Yoongi calls, much later in the evening.

Jimin appears from his bedroom, quick to obey and join his alpha sire in the den. The omega wears his silk pajamas with a robe atop them, feet bare and face still a bit dewy from his skincare routine. 

Yoongi realizes he doesn’t quite know how to go about this, but his son is awaiting an explanation.

“We need to start your treatment, pup,” he says. 

Jimin goes pink in the cheeks, soft crocus scent eking into the den. He wades over to sit within reach of his father on the couch, sending furtive glances toward the kitchen.

“Did Dr. Kim leave that bottle of—” he tries, but the words won’t leave his mouth. If anything, he gets impossibly pinker.

“No, sweetheart,” Alpha Min replies. “Not when Appa could tell it made you so uncomfortable, but it leaves us with a situation where I’m going to have to be the one to provide it for you.”

“That’s all right, isn’t it?” Jimin asks softly. He pulls his legs up onto the couch and tugs at the loose ties of his robe.

“You realize there’s a bit more to it than pulling a bottle out of Dr. Kim’s medical bag?” Yoongi asks. His son might be a bit naive, but the alpha has made sure Jimin is not misinformed in the least.

“Alpha semen cures a lot of things,” the omega replies.

“Yes, it does,” Yoongi says. 

“It comes from the core of an alpha,” Jimin speculates as though he’s reading from his reproductive biology textbook. “It’s so potent, it has been recorded to repair the infertility of a bonded mate. It works in tandem to keep the core of an omega well-fortified, because from the core of an omega comes the stability of our species. Its only counterpart is omega milk, which in turn cures a number of ailments ranging from headaches to skin lesions to influenza. Therefore, it is prudent to maintain a virile alpha and a nursing omega within a pack. For bonded pairs, those evolutionary failsafes have the greatest advantages.”

Yoongi blows out a breath, trying to suppress the image of his son, pupped with swollen breasts. However, arousal is what he should be aiming for if this treatment is to commence. A pregnant omega is the single-most alluring and primally satisfying vision the alpha can imagine.

“When did you become such an expert on bodily functions?” he asks shakily.

“I googled it after my nap,” Jimin says with a pleased little smile.

Yoongi forgets sometimes, how smart his son is. It’s a shame he doesn’t often have the opportunity to apply it. 

“I’ve never thought about it before,” Jimin murmurs, “but it must have been rough to not have an omega in the house all those years to do their share of providing for you.”

The alpha does not think of his pup’s mother, who decided she didn’t care to stay with her alpha or take care of her pup. He thinks of the time Jimin came down with bronchitis and the terror it was to hear the infant hack up his lungs when the simple cure of breastmilk would have alleviated his symptoms.

“We did all right, thank the goddess,” Yoongi exhales. “We did our best to take care of each other.”

“But it’s not the same as a bonded pair,” Jimin says, eyes a bit shiny in the low light.

The alpha wonders where his head is at.

“I disagree,” he replies, reaching out to comfort his son, unsure if he needs it. “The bond between sire and pup is not to be scorned as any lesser.” He brushes a hand through Jimin’s soft hair. The pup turns into him, and Yoongi extends both arms to pull his omega pup into his embrace. Saffron and crocus intertwine, the connection between them unmistakeable.

“I didn’t think about how exactly it would be best to do this,” Yoongi murmurs finally. “I suppose I should have waited to call you until I…had your treatment ready. You should probably go back to your room. Or I guess it makes more sense to go to mi—”

“Can I just stay?” Jimin blurts out.

“You remember what happened this morning,” Yoongi says slowly, “when I put my mouth on you?”

The omega responds with a whine that causes the alpha’s dick to twitch with interest.

“Something of that sort has to happen—”

“I know what ejaculation is, Appa,” Jimin whispers. “I want to see what it’s like…for an alpha.”

Yoongi doesn’t think he can jerk off in front of his son, even under a strictly educational premise. He would need to look at porn to provide enough of a distraction, and even then, he feels that everything would come along with too much of a mental boundary to get himself there.

“I need you to go back to your room for a little bit,” Yoongi says firmly. “I will call you when you can come back out.”

Jimin does not argue with him. He gets up to promptly leave, but the alpha stops him.

“You’re supposed to lay down for the night afterwards for the treatment to work,” Yoongi instructs him. “Make sure you have everything in order so you’re not getting up again.”

The omega nods and pads quietly down the hall.

Yoongi exhales the tension built up in his shoulders. The fastest way to get himself off would be to pull up his search history—he’s got a recent video of an omega strapped down and overstimulated into fifteen consecutive orgasms—but as he opens his phone, he notices a follow-up email from Dr. Kim. He scrolls past some of the legalese that Jimin’s results of the quiz do not reflect a diagnosis without the confirmation of a licensed psychologist, and that any recommended action to be taken is a suggestion and should be discussed by two consenting parties (with the exception to alpha sire/ omega pup pairings.) Alpha Min moves on to the interpretive notes penned out by Dr. Kim.

An in-depth analysis of Jimin’s results suggest that he has a high preference for forced submission, fantasizes about being hunted and kept nest-bound for the purpose of breeding, responded positively to restraints, although they would be purely decorative as Jimin shows no inclination toward defiance (even in a playful capacity.)  Responded positively to sensory deprivation and the idea of being fully overwhelmed by his alpha. Responded positively to all omegan hallmark behaviors, i.e. nesting, hand feeding, scenting, scruffing, assisted drops, and impregnation. Preliminary scores further indicate a likelihood of traits in the T cluster of subgender analysis.

Yoongi takes a massive breath before huffing it out of his nose. His son is a True Omega, the perfect compliment to the highest caliber of their species. 

Jimin is something alpha princes would have gone to war over three-hundred years ago—would have dueled over the last century, a kingmaker—and Yoongi feels many things: concern, desire, violence, and chief among them…possession. He trusts Seokjin, but he does not doubt that someone will one day come for Jimin, someone who will seek the omega out because of what he represents and what he is capable of offering. 

Alpha Min hates them with every fiber of his being. He knows it will drive him to violence—the kind that is condemned in present society. He will protect his pup in any way he deems necessary, and he has the right, his alpha barks. 

It stirs in his loins, the idea of bleeding a challenger to reaffirm his dominance. The mounting urge of scrabbling claws in the earth, canines puncturing through the scruff of a wieldy and inferior opponent, seeing the light dim in their eyes… Yoongi is palming his stiffening cock before he’s fully aware of it. Maybe there’s something to Seokjin’s assertion of suppressed alpha instincts after all.

He’s lived his little domesticated life in modern society raising his son. They partake of modern convenience. They don’t shift. Their closest neighbors are human. Their wolf friends live even further within the city. He hasn’t had a regular rut cycle in more than a decade, managing to medicate it down to a six-month timeline where he’ll send Jimin away for a week and wander off into the forest abutting the edge of their property line to let out his aggression. 

With his omega pup ripening into maturity, Yoongi’s going to be less and less willing to send him out of the range of his protection. Even now, with his alpha even-tempered, the thought of Jimin being beyond his reach for more than a few hours is intolerable to him. The omega pup needs to be in the den, where it’s warm and secure and comfortable.

Yoongi unbuttons his trousers and bites back a groan as he gets his hand around his hard length. He reaches for his phone, visual readily available with a few swipes of his thumb. With his pup nearby, the alpha switches off the volume. He doesn’t think it’ll be much less stimulating without the wet squelch of the omega’s cunt and her screams of ecstasy that eventually taper off into throaty moaning when she gives up struggling and succumbs to the relentless orgasms administered by her alpha. The auditory component, he could actually do without. 

It heightens Yoongi’s focus to have to guess when the omega reaches her peak, breath visibly stuttering and stomach clenching as her hands scrabble for purchase on the ropes around her wrists. He remembers what Seokjin said about omegas being a conduit for pleasure, and that recollection ushers in the taste of soft, warm crocuses on his tongue. His mind conjures up the sound of Jimin’s cries earlier in the day, the pup’s warbling song an unmatched music to his ears. Then in rushes the quivering of warm skin and soft wieldy muscle, lines of tension and willing submission. 

The video has completely lost Alpha Min’s interest.

His wolf is champing at the bit, climax approaching hard and fast. He feels beyond control of it now, squeezing at the base of his dick where his knot is threatening to swell. Yoongi’s instincts are flickers of sensation down his spine—hunt, rut, claim, but he can do none of those things, so he turns his head against the back of the sofa and bites down. The alpha is hyper-fixated on the fact that he’s never put his teeth in anyone before.

His omega pup would keen at the first press of an alpha’s bite—Yoongi’s sure of it. He wouldn’t put up a fight beyond a fear response the alpha would be all-too-eager to subdue. Jimin would come to ask for the bite, crave it as much as his alpha’s knot and surrender his throat without prompting.

The coarse fabric of the sofa creaks as Yoongi grinds his canines into it. The musty upholstery helps quell the itch behind his gums until the alpha thinks it’s safe to let go. He really didn’t consider how best it would be to do this.

Dr. Kim provided him with an apparatus and thorough instructions on how to use it. It’s simple enough. He’ s meant to jerk off into the receiver, attach the pump when it’s full, and administer it into Jimin’s channel via a thin, plastic tube. It’s not at all pleasant and seems quite redundant when the brief, illicit thought of sealing the tip of his cock to Jimin’s entrance and just pulsing inside of him—letting it drench where nature sees fit for it to drench—seems a more practical option.

Yoongi barely gets his cock in the right position before he’s climaxing. Even the cold, plastic receptacle biting into the edge of his foreskin doesn’t dissuade him. His primary concern is keeping his knot from inflating and making this bizarre experience all the more real.

The tube Yoongi holds in his hand is warm. He didn’t expect it to be warm. Then again, the alpha has never held a collection of his own seed before. He decides it’s best not to dwell on it too long—just get it inside Jimin and go to bed—and inserts the plunger while trying to avoid looking at it. He straightens himself out, washes his hands in the kitchen sink, and shuffles across the carpet to his son’s room.

***

Jimin is curled on the bed around one of his plushies. He isn’t baby-talking it as one might expect of an omega, but the way he cradles the little pink bunny to his chest with such an animated expression makes Yoongi think they’re having a deep, emotional conversation. 

“Alright, sweetness,” Alpha Min says. “Ready for bed?”

“I did my skincare and went to the bathroom,” the omega replies. “I set up a water glass, but I’ll only drink a little of it. I got some melatonin gummies so I go to sleep fast and don’t move around to much.”

“My smart pup,” Yoongi says fondly.

Stroking over his rabbit once more, Jimin tucks it beside his pillow and rolls onto his back. He tugs at the tie of his robe, silk ribbon water-falling beside his hips. He has left on his pajamas and, no doubt, panties underneath, which leads the alpha to another conundrum. Does he scooch the fabric out of the way in the pretense of keeping Jimin covered? Will that make it more difficult? Will there be room for the tube and his hands? Or does he ask his omega pup to lift his hips and slide everything off, spreading his creamy soft thighs for all that pink between them? 

Yoongi’s cock gives an emphatic pulse of interest. He decides he ought to get used to it if he is dedicated to being his son’s dominant caregiver. It’s best to get the both of them familiar with the complexities of alpha/omega dynamics in close quarters. Acclimating Jimin to their instinctual wolf nature is what this is all about. 

Dr. Kim implied that a heavy hand would produce the most rapid results, but that could wait for another night without so much newness budding between every action. Dominance was by no means rough in all its forms, but it required Yoongi to take the lead without indecision. Hesitance on his part would result in a mishap—Jimin getting startled or squirming around—and they’d be back to square one and trying this all over again tomorrow.

“Take your bottoms off and bend your knees,” Yoongi directed, retrieving a bottle of lube to coat the applicator tube with. He brushes his finger over the plastic end, pleased to find it blunt and softer than his own finger. He has no fear of it hurting his son.

Jimin shimmies out of his pajama bottoms, setting them aside. He hesitates with his underwear, picking at the lacy edge. A blush creeps up his ears from his cheeks.

“Is it going to be like this morning?” he asks.

“Which part of this morning are you referring to?” Yoongi replies. 

“Will it feel good instead of hurting?” The omega bites his lip while still worrying at the elastic of his panties. They’re the ones with floral lace cutouts on the cheeks. Yellow like a daisy. 

“I promise it won’t be more than a smidge uncomfortable,” reassures the alpha. “It shouldn’t be cold or even pinch. Think of it as a hummingbird, and you’re the flower. It may bump around a little bit, but it’s not going to hurt you. It just wants to find your honey.”

“But I’m a crocus, Appa,” Jimin says, voice barely louder than a whisper. “Hummingbirds don’t care for the smell of crocuses.”

“Flower, you smell divine,” Yoongi insists. “Rare and expensive. Now I need you to do as Appa says.”

Jimin shifts his underwear down his legs, his perfect feet getting caught in the material before he wiggles them off. They end up on the floor at the foot of the bed.

With a desperate little breath, the omega bends his knees, although they’re pressed firmly together. One hand guards his privates between his thighs while the other plucks idly at a button on his chest.

“Jimin, open,” Yoongi says with a touch of alpha voice. Spinning this out is doing neither of them any favors.

The omega does as he is ordered, resting his hands on his belly.

As per Seokjin’s instructions, the applicator needs to fit no more than four inches into his son’s vagina. His glands require the largest concentration of the treatment, an alpha’s seed encouraging them to soften and swell to produce slick and trigger his heat cycle. 

Yoongi measures out some lube into his hand, warming it before he lathers the tube in it. He kneels on the bed between his omega pup’s legs, thoughts less-than-clinical as he spreads Jimin’s lids to the entrance of his vagina. A flower indeed.

The tube slides in, wet and smooth to the length Yoongi mentally measured. Further in and it’ll breach the omega’s cervix, flooding his womb with his alpha sire’s cum. His hand tightens around the apparatus, imagining Jimin’s fluttering tummy taking his seed and growing a pup even before taking his first knot. 

A knot, Yoongi realizes, that he wants to be his. His knot, his seed, his pup. HIs, his, his. He knows he won’t ever be able to let Jimin go. 

“My brave pup,” Yoongi whispers. “Not too bad, is it?”

Jimin makes a face, but doesn’t squirm lest he dislodge the thin, plastic sheath inside him.

“It’s a bit uncomfortable, but it doesn’t hurt,” he replies.

“Do you want it to feel like it did this morning?” Yoongi asks. He flexes his fingers just enough to put pressure beneath the base of the omega’s clit.

Eyes widening, Jimin gives a reflexive little nod, as if he doesn’t believe he’s allowed to say yes, but he can’t help wanting it anyway.

Yoongi strokes, featherlight, around Jimin’s bud before applying direct pressure. He’s less careful this time, allowing the excess lube to get the omega moist and slick, friction pleasurable rather than the tightrope line of caution he walked this morning. His hand bumps the one still holding the applicator, and Jimin’s mouth opens in shock.

Curious, the alpha moves the thin tube with more intention, just an outward slide at first coupled with a hard press against the omega’s clit. 

Jimin throws his head back with a pretty little chirp.

It’s beyond calculation at this point, merely rhythm, as Yoongi readjusts his stance on the bed and begins fucking his son with the plastic applicator: short, teasing strokes interspersed with a long, deep thrust. All the while, he’s stroking up and down the omega’s lids, grinding his fingertips into the plumping muscle to pull him towards his peak. He waits for Jimin’s orgasm—gentle and honeyed and toe-curling—to pump the semen into his channel. His omega pup will associate his seed with pleasure, if nothing else.

Dazed and glassy-eyed, Jimin flinches only when the applicator is removed from his hole. He lays lax and obedient as his sire wipes the remaining lube from between his thighs, hitches his pajama bottoms back up his legs, and takes the gummy Yoongi sets between his teeth, tongue swiping against the alpha’s fingers.

“Will you sleep next to me, Appa?” Jimin asks.

Yoongi does not know how he will stand it, laying beside his omega pup’s soft, warm body with the smell of his cum inside him. It’s a testament to his self control that he hasn’t rolled him onto his stomach and mounted him already.

The alpha decides he’ll wait until his pup is asleep, then retreat to his own bed to jerk off. He stretches out and stuffs a pillow between them, keeping his persistent erection out of the way.

Jimin is careful in his movements, refraining from shifting his lower half too much, and burrows into his father’s arms. There’s a soft, silent moment before the omega sleepily makes another request.

“I want to build a nest,” he says, eyes barely open.

“You can’t right now, flower,” Yoongi prepares to readjust his grip in case Jimin makes to get up. A good scruffing should keep him down, even if he’s succumbing to some instinctual pull of his wolf in the moment.

“Not now,” Jimin shakes his head. “Tomorrow. In your room.”

Yoongi takes the implication in stride.

“You want to build a nest in Appa’s bed?” he asks.

“Is that all right?” the omega presses, voice small.

“I would be honored,” Yoongi replies. “If you still want to in the morning, I can help you with it.”

They have other things to talk about tomorrow, some of which he needs to discuss with Seokjin. In deciding to take Jimin as his omega, how does that change the treatment initially set out for them, and there’s some ideas he wants to run by the doctor’s consideration.

Alpha Min frees one of his hands to brush through his son’s fine hair, reassuring him that it’s safe to drift off to sleep. Regardless of his own body’s urges, he is not far behind.

Chapter Text

Jimin wriggles out of bed, under the arm of his alpha sire and to his open closet. The fabrics of his wardrobe are soft cotton, silk, and linen. He shuffles through his sweaters by touch, searching for his favorite cashmere cable knit to pull over his head before he sweeps up a shelf-full of blankets to carry to the master bedroom. 

The omega feels tiny and overburdened, like a toddler swathed in a towel. He spreads his legs wide and waddles around the bulk of his spare comforter, dragging it down the hall into his father’s room. As he crosses the threshold, he considers what might happen when his alpha sire wakes up. Finds him gone. Surely, he will come looking for his wandering omega pup.

Jimin imagines all that intensity focused on him—hooded eyes and anxious, grasping hands—come to heft him up by the supple cushion of his spread thighs and put him back where he belongs. He feels it, suddenly trickling out of him, like the run of honey from a warm jar. He clamors into the adjoining bathroom with a gasp.

All the downy fabric enveloping the omega’s torso makes it difficult to get his sleep shorts off. Jimin rucks up his sleeves and pinches the sweater’s hem under his chin so he can wiggle out of the damp silk. It clings to his skin, and in the attempt to hitch it down his legs, he loses hold of his sweater. 

Frustration would usually causing the omega a mini tantrum by now, but Jimin is too preoccupied with his concern of what exactly is eking out of him. He swipes his fingers through the sticky substance as he waddles toward the shower. It’s milky and smells of…the omega can’t quite place the scent, so he tentatively licks his fingers. The omega’s body quivers so intensely, he nearly takes a tumble into the shower glass. It’s his father’s seed dripping out of him.

The clench between the omega’s legs would surely have presented slick if not for the dormancy of his heat cycle. Instead, it only further coaxes out the mess, globs of spend running down his thighs. 

Jimin’s body flashes hot and cold all at once. He slips out of his sweater and climbs into the stall, keeping his thighs spread as he turns on the shower head. Too late, he realizes his mistake and yelps as the icy stream smacks into his chest.

Bearing the discomfort until the water warms, Jimin’s curiosity gets the best of him. He prods at the place where he’s leaking, perfunctory, before he wonders how far he can stick a finger inside himself. He wants to know what it feels like. 

It’s uncomfortable, prodding at his insides. Everything feels tense and tender, and his finger doesn’t just slide in easily. He would need to be slick for that, he supposes. He can’t imagine how an alpha’s cock, let alone a knot, is supposed to fit in the space his finger is currently occupying.

A knock at the door startles Jimin. He retracts his finger, and the friction against his walls has him bracing a hand against the shower door to keep himself upright. His muscles contract, urgent for more sensation. Creamy release coats his finger. 

“Sweetness,” Alpha Min calls. “What do you need?”

Jimin runs his hand under the shower spray. The open-ended nature of the question could have his father doing any number of things at his behest. They learned early on that Jimin’s instinct was to minimize his feelings if asked something as simple as Are you all right? but Yoongi was too headstrong to accept some tepid denial. They had built the necessary trust between them for Yoongi to be assured it wasn’t a lie if Jimin said he didn’t need anything. If the alpha required further explanation, the omega pup was required to give it.

“I need a minute!” he replies, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. “Just until I get out of the shower.”

There is no further response, so Jimin suds up his body and scrubs himself down with a loofa, bending at the waist so the water will aid the egress of the seed inside his channel. He takes the time to brush his teeth and do his skincare routine. When he finally peeks his head out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, he spies a pile of clothes on his father’s bed: oversized T-shirt, sweats, panties, and a pad.

Jimin points his toes as she steps one foot after the other into the baby blue silk and situates the pad to where it will keep him from leaking. Something in him goes hot and squirmy as the cotton settles comfortably against his small parts. If there’s anything left of his father’s cum, it will be rubbed right against his pussy. 

It’s hard for Jimin to come to terms with himself as a sexual being. He knows he is no longer a child. He knows that his body must grow beyond its current, dormant state. Like all things, it must usher in the promise of reproduction, coupling, release. He feels it stirring in him—the desire for a larger pack, for pups, for purpose—and a resolute hand to give those things to him.

The omega bundles into the remainder of his outfit, forgoing the T-shirt for his sweater. He swipes the comforter off the floor and swaddles himself in it, making himself as small as possible as he bunkers into the carpet, quickly warming in the downy material. His exposed toes peek out from under his kneeling position. He likes the sound of his breath stifled in his makeshift fort, the feel of his hair waterfalling around his cheeks. 

The compression and the heat is so pleasant, a resonant chirp emits from his throat. 

Then another. 

Then another, at a frequency that might resemble singing. He doesn’t realize he’s calling for someone until the pad of footsteps indicates he’s been heard. 

His mind conjures an alpha—the wolf—circling around him, snuffing down the arc of his back, licking at his tiny curled toes. He’s startled by the actuality of being scooped up off the floor and braced against his father on the bed. 

Alpha Min holds him swaddled on his lap, against his chest. He rubs up and down the outer shell of the comforter as he waits for Jimin to emerge from his cocoon.

Momentarily, Jimin wiggles the comforter down around his shoulders, but keeps his hands tucked in the blanket. He observes his father, patient, yet unwavering. There is no judgement within the alpha, and Jimin takes his time regarding the way his father watches him, holds him, as if there’s no one else in the world.

When Jimin does not speak, Alpha Min breaches the silence.

“I spoke on the phone with Dr. Kim while you showered,” he says. “Your test results provided us with some insight and methods we can use to coax out your heat cycle.”

“Different than last night’s treatment?” Jimin’s breath stutters.

“Alpha semen is only part of the necessary components for triggering your hormones,” Yoongi responds. “Traditional behaviors will allow your omega to lean into its instincts. Dr. Kim was very pleased to hear you feel like nesting in my bed. He thinks it’a a wonderful idea for you to sleep with me for the time being.”

“I won’t be a bother?” Jimin asks. He doesn’t have a lot of plushies, but he thinks they would look a bit silly amidst his father’s earth-toned accents.

“You may do whatever you like in here, pup,” his alpha sire says. “If you want to drape pink fabric from the ceiling or take the sofa apart to build a fort, I don’t mind.”

Jimin looks up at the space above the bed frame.

“Well,” he says, “maybe not pink.”

Yoongi smiles at him, endeared.

“Dr. Kim also suggested that I scent you more frequently,” the alpha continues, “coupled with some simulated mounting and scruffing.”

Jimin can’t remember the last time he was scruffed. Growing up, he was the furthest thing from a naughty pup. There wasn’t any natural inclination within him to rebel. There was a time in his adolescence, once, when the omega pup spied a stray cat in the city and darted across the street toward it without looking. His alpha sire had snatched him by the neck, sending Jimin into an immediate drop and pulling him out of oncoming traffic. Although he’d felt safe in his father’s control, it hadn’t been a very pleasant experience. 

“Isn’t scruffing for when something dangerous happens?” Jimin asks.

“For a pup,” Yoongi explains, “it’s an easy way to redirect unruly behavior or get them out of harm’s way. Squeezing a pup’s pressure points momentarily reboots their system. Scruffing a grown omega is different.”

“How is it different?” Jimin asks.

“You’ll get my teeth in the back of your neck rather than my hands,” the alpha says.

Suddenly, Jimin feels like he can barely breathe. And he won’t be able to until...

“Show me,” the omega says.

“There’s more we need to talk about,” Yoongi replies. “I think you’ll want to get started on your nest soon, and a scruffing would put you out for a few hours. You’re not in the right headspace—”

“Ask me again,” Jimin demands. “Ask me what I need.”

Alpha Min’s jaw clenches. His hands reflexively grasp his omega pup tighter, but the rest of his body is still. He searches Jimin’s face very carefully.

“What do you need,” he says, with very little inquiry and very much finality.

For the first time in Jimin’s life, he purposefully acts out, intending to rile. He smacks at his father’s chest, just enough to sting. There’s a moment of surprise from his alpha sire before the grip around his torso tightens and Jimin smacks him again, like a temperamental child, struggling against the hold as his heartbeat accelerates.

A growl rips out of Yoongi’s throat, intent on making Jimin behave, but he will not.

The sound merely spurns the omega onward, wrenching himself out of the comforter and away from his father’s attempts to get a handle on him. The cold air hits him as he escapes his burrito roll. He scrambles to his knees, propelling himself off the bed. He doesn’t get very far.

The hand that lashes out drags Jimin backward, makes short work of hefting him atop the mattress and pinning his knees so he can’t kick his way free.

Jimin is stunned by the strength his father possesses. Although he knows the game is up, he doesn’t relent, flailing even as the alpha climbs on top of him, restraining his arms at the small of his back with a broad hand. He pushes back against the firm hold, testing for weaknesses, but he can find none.

Alpha Min clasps the back of his pup’s head, forcing it downwards.

Jimin’s face braces against the cool bedsheets, and then there is nothing but the snap and snarl of his father’s teeth as they close around the nape of his neck. He gasps at the intense pressure before the alpha’s canines penetrate past the muscle and knick something that sends a mind-numbing shock of safety and submission through him. It’s almost as good as an orgasm.

Without control of any part of his body, Jimin feels his alpha sire’s weight settle—balance out along his limbs and cover him like a deliciously warm blanket. Distantly, the omega thinks he might be drooling, but he can’t tell if he’s got his mouth open or shut. In that hazy bliss, he whines as his father releases his neck and tongues at the open wound. Jimin makes another needful moan at the idea of it leaving a scar.

“Too much newness all at once, isn’t it sweetheart? You needed a good settling.” Yoongi speaks beside his ear, stroking over his hair fondly. “I forget sometimes what too much information, too much change, can do to an omega pup. Dr. Kim tried to warn me.” He hums thoughtfully. “I suppose there are just some things I’ll have to leave you in the dark about, but my brave pup isn’t scared of the dark, is he?”

Jimin chirps in response. He feels sleep creeping in on him, embracing him. He loves the soothing voice of his alpha sire whispering in his ear. 

“Sleep, flower, and we can build your new nest when you wake up,” Yoongi says, cradling him all the way down. 

***

“I don’t understand why it hasn’t worked yet,” Jimin says, laying with his legs spread and his father kneeling between them, plastic tube at the ready. 

“It’s only been four days,” Alpha Min replies. 

Four days of waking in a cocoon of his father’s scent, coaxed into the alpha’s lap at the breakfast table or fed right in his nest, being scented throughout the day and praised as he performs more submissive, omegan tasks for his appa, and the dousing of alpha semen in his vagina before he’s pulled into his sire’s arms and is lulled to sleep with a gentle, swelling orgasm and thorough scenting.

Jimin has no complaints. He adores his nest. The king-sized mattress is done up with fluffy, high-weave fabrics and soft furs. He had gotten his requested canopy, and the gauzy swath of fabric drapes along the head of the bed mostly to look pretty, but it can be pulled around to enclose him in his own little partitioned fort if he wishes. The pillows are their own problem, and Alpha Min had to erect sides to the headboard—a little bit crib-like—to keep them from constantly falling to the floor. 

The omega’s plushies are there too, and Jimin winds his hand around his pink bunny’s ears as he awaits the push of lubricated plastic in his channel. 

“All of my friends have had their heats.” Jimin struggles to keep his voice from choking with emotion. “Tae Tae is going to have a pup!” 

Just yesterday, they had scheduled a dinner with Alpha Kim and his omega for the end of the week after receiving the good news. Jimin missed his best friend dearly, and although he couldn’t wait to share the other omega’s happiness, he felt bereft.

Alpha Min sets aside the applicator and pulls Jimin up to scent him. 

The omega clings to his father, perched in his lap with his arms wound around his neck. His silk robe slips off his shoulders and gathers around his bare hips.

“Ah, my darling omega pup,” Yoongi soothes him, trailing his nose insistently around Jimin’s throat, spreading the earthy-sweet saffron scent against his glands. “You’re a radiant, intricate flower that doesn’t bloom for just anyone. You need the right attention.” He scatters chaste, comforting kisses upon his brow and cheeks.

And bloom the omega does, subtle at first as the gentle ministrations bring out the fragrance of warm crocuses. 

Jimin scents his father in turn, brushing petal lips against his gland. Of all things, he catches a trace of arousal in the alpha’s scent. He wants to suckle there, at the pulse-point of desire, to make it bloom into something fervent and grasping. His teeth scrape for only an instant before his lips are forcibly moved away from the juncture of the alpha’s neck and joined by his sire’s own eager mouth. 

It’s Jimin’s first kiss.

He stills, besieged by a flood of complex emotions. He feels the clasp of the alpha’s hand around his jaw, holding him in place, the swooping of his belly and the friction of rough cotton underneath the swell of his groin, heat and wet where their lips meet. He senses the iron control of his alpha sire. He remembers the phantom prick of teeth in his nape. To think the same mouth that delivered such rough treatment could also caress him so serenely.

Kissing is like sunshine. Kissing is like rolling in a field of clover. Kissing is like fireworks behind his eyelids, and Jimin bucks forward involuntarily, whining at the friction he experiences against his father’s thigh.

Alpha Min grips along the divot of his waist, easing him into a less frantic movement. He takes Jimin’s mouth with loping, insistent kisses. The first press of their tongues has the omega keening into the sensation.

Jimin squirms with excitement. Their kiss is led by his father, dominating and instructive, and while the omega has no wish to supersede his sire’s control, he needs somewhere to channel the burgeoning arousal spiraling through him.

“Oh, oh, I need—” Jimin isn’t sure what exactly. More, certainly, but in a way that pins him down, like a rainstorm against the earth, a hummingbird plunging its beak into the stigma of a flower, a mouse in the viper’s maw. He wants something rougher and rawer than he can put a name to, and he craves the warning bite at the base of his neck.

“I’ll give you anything you want, sweet pup,” Yoongi responds.

The alpha lays him back on the bed, hovering over him in anticipation of his pup’s demands. I want you to keep me forever, Jimin thinks. 

He reaches out with his slight hands to touch his father’s face. So subtly expressive, the alpha regards him with curiosity as Jimin traces over his full lips, the highlight of his cheekbones, his furrowed brow. With a gentle knuckle, he tries to erase the tension there. 

Something passes between them as their gazes remain fixed on each other. The uncertainty melts from Yoongi’s countenance, and between one breath to another, Jimin draws his alpha sire into more fervent kisses and mounting pleasure.

Alpha Min remains fully clothed even as he bends Jimin’s legs back and uses his physicality to secure his son in his nest. The kissing and scenting only grows in intensity, creating a hazy bubble of intimacy between them until Yoongi breaks away from their contact to tap at Jimin’s eager, swollen lips. 

Jimin sucks on the fingers that dip into his mouth and watches as his alpha sire joins it with his own spit. He knows where it’s headed before he feels the slick warmth against his vulva, but then his father ruts against him—right beside his hand—and the press of the alpha’s cock, even with a barrier between them, makes his whole body flush with ecstasy.

The sensation is so intense, Jimin can hardly stand it. HIs hands press against his father’s shoulders of their own accord, and he turns his face away, although he dares not shut his eyes. By now, he’s acclimated to having his clitoris played with, but the rhythmic thrusting between his legs makes it all the more real.

“Good omega,”  Alpha Min whispers, dotting kisses along his jaw, “so hot and wet around me, so perfect—”

Jimin’s body races toward its peak. He’s never felt an orgasm like this—like he’s been trapped underwater holding his breath, and the moment he breaches the surface the inhale he takes is going to flood his system with oxygen and make his muscles feel like they’ve dissolved into tiny bubbles. He opens his mouth and the sound that escapes him is a sharp trill of encouragement. He wants the blinding rush of pleasure. He wants his father to cum too. He wants it inside him.

The barest hint of fingers hook into his entrance and both Yoongi and Jimin feel it the moment the clench of the omega’s body begins loosening. He’s still not slick, but it is something.

Jimin cums so hard it makes him cry. He shudders uncontrollably, whimpering at the cold he suddenly feels when his father slips the plastic applicator into him once again and releases the stopper.

“You’re okay, sweetheart,” the alpha croons. As soon as he’s free, he gathers his pup into his arms and tucks a blanket around the both of them. “You’re so beautiful. So perfect. Made just the way you’re meant to be.”

Jimin feels like crying all over again. He knows what he wants. He knows he will never have it. His thoughts drift back to the time when Taehyung had appeared with a mating bite, gushing about his alpha, Namjoon, and how he’d put it there. In confidence, omegas whisper secrets to each other in the safety of their nests, and Jimin and Taehyung were no exception.

“He followed the old pack tradition,” Taehyung had said. “A mating run.”

“I don’t know what that means.” Jimin’s quizzical expression persuaded the omega to elaborate.

“He chased me,” Taehyung said breathlessly, “like I was his prey, like I was the one being hunted. And when he caught me, he pinned me down to the forest floor and—”

“I want that,” was all Jimin could say in response. 

He wants it still. He’s slender and not very strong. He would be easily caught. It’s a dream he has sometimes when he gets anxious about what his future life with an alpha will be. The shape of his mate in his dream was often a wolf rather than a man hunting him. He could hear them in the underbrush, snarling and clawing at the earth, but he would never get a glimpse of their true shape.

The omega no longer wants to dream. He fights off sleep so he can stay in the fantasy of his sire, his alpha, chasing him into the woods.

Chapter Text

There’s a knock on the door at a quarter to six, and Jimin rushes to open it, swept up in his delight over reuniting with his omega companion. When he turns the knob, he is met with the sight of Taehyung’s back, arms and legs wrapped around his alpha and bundled in a teddy bear coat. His face is tucked in Namjoon’s throat.

“Someone got a bit carsick on the way over,” the alpha murmurs in apology, more to his mate than to their expectant hosts.

“Let’s get him some tea and we’ll fix him up a nest, won’t we sweetness?” Yoongi says as he makes an appearance. He strokes up and down his son’s back to rouse him from his wide-eyed concern.

Jimin would usually reserve no hesitation for sharing his nest, especially with Taehyung, but he can’t bring himself to invite the omega into his father’s room where he and his alpha sire have built up a refuge of their combined scents over days and days of playing at mates. The idea of introducing the scent of another omega—and pregnant omega at that—into the mix upsets him.

“We have some extra blankets that can be set up in the living room,” Alpha Min suggests at Jimin’s obvious hesitance. “I’m sure Alpha Kim would prefer to keep his mate within his sight.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows raise a bit, but he doesn’t comment on the oddity.

“Set him down on the sofa, and I’ll make some tea,” Yoongi instructs.

Jimin darts into his room, searching for enough cushioning to make Taehyung comfortable. He takes the comforter and pillows off his bed, but most of his blankets are occupying his new nest. There’s a decorative quilt and some smaller furs Yoongi had from his family in the closet, but they smell a bit stale and unscented with disuse. With full arms, Jimin returns to the living room.

Taehyung sits with his socked feet curled up on the sofa and a compress across his eyes. He mumbles something to Namjoon before the alpha is setting off in the direction of the kitchen, so Jimin sets to work building a nest on his own. 

“Do you want it on the sofa or the floor, Tae-Tae?” he whispers, not wanting to disturb the omega if sensory input makes his nausea worse.

“Not room enough to cuddle with you on the couch,” Taehyung groans.

A smile slips onto Jimin’s lips. He likes to think his nest-building skills are excellent, and curling up with his omega companion on the water heated floor sounds marvelous. He remembers the yoga mats he has in the back of his closet and goes to fetch them.

Completed, it’s more of a cushy pallet than a proper nest,  but as he eases Taehyung down onto the blankets, he shores up the under draft of the sofa by propping the cushions against the base. It provides them a nice walled-off side to protect them. The alphas will take up the armchairs across the way, securing the room with a comfortable, watchful eye.

Jimin sits cross-legged beside Taehyung, running a gentle hand through the omega’s hair. The tension slowly unravels from them both, until Taehyung is lax and comfortable, and Jimin curls next to him, pressing curious hands to his belly.

“What does it feel like?” Jimin whispers, brushing over the taut mound. It’s firmer than he expected. Taehyung’s middle had always been delightfully squishy, good for tickling or resting one’s head on.

“Nothing really yet,” Tae replies. “I guess my body feels a little bit alien sometimes or like…more than me? I wanted to eat buldak for dinner last night, and even though Joonie-hyung insisted it was a bad idea, he still got if for me, because I was going to cry without it, but then it was so spicy I cried anyway.”

Taehyung rests with his head propped up on a pillow and his hands tucked between.

“But I’ve wanted a pup so badly for so long—”

The omega seems like he might just burst into tears, and Jimin nuzzles against his face to soothe him.

“And now you’re going to be an eomma!” he whispers in excitement. “With lots and lots of pups! So many pups your alpha won’t be able to carry them all!”

Taehyung hiccups a little sob, and Jimin fetches his tea. The omega feeds him little sips until his crying quiets down. It’s a relief that his sweet amber scent isn’t distressed, just a bit overwhelmed.

“When are you going to start having pups, my Jimin-ah?” Taehyung sniffs. “I want them to be same age friends, like we are.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to have pups anytime soon,” Jimin says. “I haven’t even had my heat yet.”

“Heat, hmmm,” Taehyung swipes at his nose. “Did you know Joonie-hyung wasn’t fucking me right during my heat? That’s why it didn’t take before. Although it wasn’t all his fault. Apparently my womb is a bit more recessed than most omegas, but Alpha was scared knotting me was going to hurt me because his cock is so big.”

Jimin goes hot and squirmy inside at the omega’s words. He burrows further into the nest and rubs his wrists along Taehyung’s scent glands, hoping the warm musk will bury the burgeoning scent of his own arousal.

“So he did knot you, finally?” he asks.

“It got to the point that I refused to talk to him, I got so mad he wasn’t giving me a pup,” Taehyung says. “He called Dr. Kim over, and we ganged up on him.” It’s a hilarious image, the way the omega describes what was sure to be a harrowing experience fraught with tears. 

“Dr. Kim seems like a very good doctor,” Jimin says, contemplative. If the alpha had been able to grant Taehyung’s wish, why not his?

“He’s something all right,” Taehyung blows out a loaded breath. “If I didn’t love Joonie-hyung so damn much, I would probably hop on that dick myself.”

“Whose dick are we talking about hopping?” Alpha Kim asks, entering the room with his own cup of tea.

Jimin goes bright red, concerned that Taehyung will suffer some repercussions. Surely Namjoon wouldn’t be keen on his omega entertaining the idea of another alpha, especially one within such intimate proximity, but he sets down the steaming mug without forcing the issue and bunkers down into one of the lounge seats.

“Dr. Kim,” Taehyung takes a sip of his tea and wiggles a little. 

Jimin is worried he’ll spill the hot liquid on himself and helps guide the mug to the floor.

“Ah, yes, so you’ve told me,” Namjoon chuckles fondly. “It makes no sense to me. He’s so clinical when he talks about the filthiest things. I don’t know how you find that sexy.”

“It’s the way he’s so hyper-focused on everything,” Taehyung responds, “you know he’d give good orgasms. It would probably be a whole thing for him to do tests on what produces the most pleasure.”

“You really liked what he had me do to you the last time he came over, huh,” Namjoon smirks.

“I liked it so much, Alpha,” Taehyung says. He presses his face into a pillow and lets out a happy scream.

“What do you think, Yoongi-sii,” Namjoon lobs his question to the alpha bringing his own mugs through the doorway. “Is a very descriptive guide of the best way to fuck an omega pregnant hot or not?”

“Yes, it is,” Taehyung insists, pulling out his phone. “It so is. I’ll show you.”

Alpha Min takes a sip of his drink, assuming his position in the other den chair and nodding toward the cup on the table he brought for Jimin.

The omega worries that if he gets up to fetch his tea, his legs will shake like a newborn foal. He can’t possibly get close to his father right now. If his alpha sire answers Namjoon’s question while looking at him, he’ll combust into particles. It’s better he stay close to the ground so he’s nice and easy to vacuum up later.

“I made Namjoonie-hyung film it,” Taehyung pronounces.

“While you were in heat?” Jimin gasps.

The other omega nods. He turns on his back to swipe through his photos before he clicks on a set of videos that show Dr. Kim’s portable ultrasound machine setup in the omega’s room. 

“I can’t keep my eyes open when it feels really good, and I didn’t want to miss it the first time he knotted me,” Taehyung reassures. “Oh here, it’s this one.”

Jimin can’t believe he’s about to watch a video of his best friend getting fucked with Namjoon and his father in the same room. He doesn’t understand how the alpha isn’t wildly possessive of others seeing or hearing Taehyung in such a vulnerable state, but he hadn’t balked at his mate’s fantasies either. The thought of his alpha being so cavalier with such an intimate moment unsettles him, but he supposes Taehyung is enthusiastic about sharing, and that makes all the difference.

In the video, Taehyung is laying on his back, naked with his legs spread much like Jimin had been a few weeks ago. Dr. Kim holds the ultrasound wand against his exposed stomach, pointing to the blue and white shades on the screen.

“See how the furl of his cervix sits a bit higher here?” Seokjin’s voice comes in tinny through the screen. “Mild penetration isn’t quite going to get the job done. Ideally, the head of your cock should press right against here, and knotting will give you a nice strong seal to make sure your semen reaches all the way into his womb.”

Jimin is transfixed by the screen, but he’s equally aware of the two alphas hovering over them. Taehyung hums happily, but the tension Jimin feels seems likely to incite violence. Whose violence, he isn’t sure. He instinctually exposes his neck to appease the alphas (both of the alphas? one of the alphas? Namjoon? his sire?) but Namjoon seems to be reminiscing over the moment himself. Alpha Min, on the other hand, is watching their puppy pile with an unreadable expression.

“I’m telling you, I get that far without knotting him,” video Namjoon’s voice sounds put out. “There’s no further to go without hurting him.”

“All right, show me,” Dr. Kim gestures to the omega.

Taehyung jumps to another video on his phone and skips forward a bit. It seems to have taken some convincing and Namjoon’s teary-eyed mate to make the alpha relent. There’s some back and forth before Jimin’s jaw drops open when he can see the machine image of the alpha’s cock literally inside of Taehyung.

“It was so much pressure,” Taehyung groans beside him, “with Seokjinnie-hyung pressing down with the wand thingy. ”

Video Taehyung becomes more and more keyed up between the press of the doctor’s hands on his abdomen and his alpha’s languid thrusts. He braces himself by grasping Namjoon’s wrists, but his bent legs slip off the edge of the bed from time to time, ankles knocking at the baseboard.

“Let’s get you a more comfortable position, alright cutie?” Dr. Kim says. “Omegas like you should be perfectly comfortable so you can just take it. I promise your alpha will have put a pup in you by the end of this.”

Video Taehyung whines as the doctor flutters about for his equipment, efficient as he modifies the couple’s position by cuffing Taehyung’s ankles and wrists into padded restraints and then tethering them together. There isn’t space for him to unbend his knees or pull his arms up any higher than his waist.

Jimin tries to imagine what it would feel like—having his hands tied to his feet so he could neither kick nor cover himself. His alpha could so easily keep his legs spread and do whatever he wanted with him…and if he was blindfolded—

The camera gets moved, set up so that the monitor is visible over the soft, pale tension of Taehyung’s chest and the arc of Namjoon’s back. The blue and white imaging shows that the alpha’s cock is spanning the full length of the omega’s vagina, but a glance down at where they’re joined reveals that he has indeed not sheathed himself fully within his mate.

Dr. Kim purses his lips at the screen.

“And you’ve cum inside him while he was on his belly?” he asks.

“He’s been in heat plenty of times, Seokjin,” Namjoon grits his teeth. “We’ve done about everything.” 

It’s a wonder that he allows the alpha so near his in-heat omega, and Jimin realizes he doesn’t know what Dr. Kim smells like. He must use suppressants during his house visits.

“Except knotting him,” Dr. Kim deadpans. “It’s a wonder you managed to pop his cherry, let alone mate him.”

“I’ll have you know,” Taehyung pipes up, bound hands grasping at the sheets, “I believe virginity is a construct.”

“Well, in that case,” Seokjin says, rather sarcastically, “this next step should be unremarkable for you.”

The doctor uses his hands to illustrate. He makes a loose fist and then draws a circle around the opening with his knuckle. On the screen, he refers to the little pooch inside Taehyung’s abdomen.

“Persistent, circular pressure right here,” he instructs Namjoon, “until you feel a give in the tissue, and then you can start working your knot in.”

The alpha rights himself, gripping Taehyung’s waist and adjusting his angle. He makes a stirring motion with his hips, pressing his cock deep, deep inside the omega’s body. 

“Oh goddess, oh, oh—” Taehyung groans, and Jimin understands how someone could think he was in pain. The tension in his throat is visible as he throws his head back, straining for a glance at the screen. His insides seemingly bunch where Namjoon’s cock is pressing, seeking access.

“What’s that?” Jimin asks, almost breathless in his fascination. 

“That’s his cervix, flower,” his alpha sire responds.

Video Taehyung begins moaning in earnest now, a low steady thrum of anticipation. The pace doesn’t change—Namjoon wields an extraordinary amount of control, solely focused on attaining his goal without bruising his omega’s insides—and, little by little, the unwieldy tissue yields under the alpha’s relentless ministrations.

“He’s opening up nicely now,” Dr. Kim says, still intent on the monitor. “Just about there.”

The omega shakes his head back and forth across the pillow as though trying to hide from the sensation building in his gut. 

“Ah, Joonie…gonna cum,” he whines. “Hng, Alpha, please, oh please…”

“Right when he climaxes, give him a deep thrust, all the way in,” Seokjin guides, adjusting his view of Taehyung’s womb.

Namjoon waits no further than the choked cries of his mate’s release before he’s brutally pushing his cock forward. The monitor reveals the give of Taehyung’s body as the alpha slides all the way inside, popping his knot into the lock of his omega’s opening as the head of his cock simultaneously breaches the second entrance into his womb.

Taehyung squeals.

On the monitor screen, the contrast of the omega’s insides changes from blue to white as the heaving mess of alpha semen floods his cunt, pooling in the hollowed-out space and swelling Taehyung’s belly in the same way a litter of pups inevitably will.

“There you go, sweet thing,” Dr. Kim says, barely discernible on the camera’s audio. “How’s that?”

“So full,” Taehyung chokes. His bound hands strain toward his heaving stomach, eyes glassy with emotion as tears escape down the sides of his face.

Namjoon coos at him, unlatching his restraints and kissing away the saltwater. He seems just as entranced by the omega’s swollen belly, although he moves gingerly as he pets over the taut skin, aware of the tender places where he’s still lodged in his mate.

“You’re likely to experience some soreness over the next few days as your cervix—

The video abruptly ends.

Taehyung is more than a bit squirmy, looking up at his alpha in desperation. His scent is laced with arousal, amber going bright and crisp as his socked feet rub together. His hands clasp in his sweater over his tiny baby bump.

“Apologies, Yoongi-sii,” Alpha Kim says, “I need somewhere to tend to my mate.”

“Certainly,” Jimin’s father replies. “Unfortunately, we don’t have a free bed that isn’t a part of Jimin’s nest, so if you don’t mind the floor, we’ll get out of your way.”

“Here’s perfectly fine,” Namjoon says.

Jimin feels his father reach down to retrieve him. As he’s lifted off the floor, the omega doesn’t feel like he can find his feet. His stomach is tight and his mind is buzzing.

Taehyung whines as his companion is pulled away from him.

“I want Jimin to stay,” he says with teary eyes.

“I’m not Jimin’s alpha, baby,” Namjoon replies, scent of musky ambergris wafting into the nest. 

“You could be!” the omega shrieks in response. “I don’t mind sharing. Everyone should be allowed to share!”

“You’re such a good boy, my perfect angel,” Alpha Kim croons as he glances over his shoulder at the Mins. He waves them away with a tiny gesture hidden behind his back. “Not everyone is capable of sharing like you are, darling.”

Jimin doesn’t protest as he’s led away from the scene. He’s hardly cognizant of Taehyung’s cries for him or Namjoon’s attempts to pacify his needy mate. His mind is hyper-fixated on the ultrasound image of the omega’s womb flooded with seed and the sound of his restraints clinking together as Taehyung yanks against the metal. He burns with it.

“What do you need, flower?” Alpha Min whispers in the dim light of their room, coaxing Jimin into his nest.

The omega crawls into his favorite spot, chuffing against the blankets as he curls up under his canopy. It’s delightful, feeling the gauzy fabric against his skin, like butterfly kisses where it brushes his body. He reaches for his alpha sire.

Yoongi follows his son’s urgent hands, pressing up against his back as a barrier to the outside. He tucks his nose into Jimin’s exposed nape and lets his arms go lax as his pup drags them around his body. His surprise is minimal as Jimin presses his father's hand against his warm cunt. Asking for orgasms is a regular occurrence to the omega now, but it rarely falls outside their nightly ritual.

“How did you feel about seeing Taehyung like that, sweetheart?” Alpha Min asks. He rubs his hand along Jimin’s clothed cocklet, squeezing and grinding the heel of his palm between his son’s legs. 

“Turned on, Appa,” Jimin pants, clinging with tiny fists to his pillows and plushies, “…and jealous.”

Yoongi takes his time unbuttoning the omega’s pants and delving inside the layer above his underwear. He moves Jimin’s stiff little cock out of the way to rub circles against his clit, curling the rest of his fingers over the silky lids of his entrance. The fabric of his panties bunches in the creases, providing more stimulation against his excited cunt. 

“Jealous?” the alpha asks, iron control making him appear unaffected. “How so?”

“Wanted it to be me,” Jimin gasps. “Want to be someone’s omega. Wanted you to be as deep inside of me as you could possibly be. Wanted to know what it would be like for you to fuck me.”

“Me?” Yoongi asks. “Not Namjoonie?”

Jimin’s body tenses up like a child caught with his hand in the candy bowl.

Alpha Min doesn’t let him dwell on it, taking the opportunity to roll Jimin onto his back and slip his pants off entirely. The underwear goes too. Then he undoes the buttons at his wrists and rolls up the sleeves of his starched button-down, exposing his veiny forearms.

“Appa?” Jimin says breathlessly. He watches as his father unbuckles his belt to free his own cock, spitting into his palm to stroke himself. The omega had yet to get a good look at his alpha sire’s endowment. He’s fascinated by it. 

It’s so much bigger than his. He can’t resist touching the head with the tips of his fingers, and when his father doesn’t discourage him, explores further down his length.

Other than a growl of encouragement, Alpha Min doesn’t flinch. He follows Jimin’s tentative touch along his foreskin and down his shaft. At the base of his cock, where his knot will swell to lock inside his mate, the pup wraps his tiny hand around the widest part of him to try to span the girth of it. 

When the omega realizes he needs two hands to encircle it fully, Yoongi tightens his son’s grip around his cock with his own hand and ruts forward.

“When I fuck you,” he says, “it will not be by half measures. It will be with the intention to take you wholly, as an alpha is meant to take an omega. If you are in heat, it will be with the intention of mating you and putting a pup in you.”

Jimin’s mouth drops open, stunned by the boldness of his father’s words and the uncertainty that this isn’t just another way to spurn on his own biology. He’s poignantly aware of his nakedness and the pulse of heat between his legs. The slide of his father’s cock between his hands feels illicit and thrilling. 

“Tell me more,” he begs.

Yoongi shoves Jimin’s hands off his cock and maneuvers him up the bed by gripping his waist. He tucks a pillow under his pup’s shoulders and hips, arching over him in what is very nearly a straddle. 

His actions send Jimin’s heart into his throat, uncertain if he’s about to be let down gently and reminded that his body isn’t ready until it develops fully through a heat. The omega can’t very well spread his legs open like this. He tries, and his alpha sire holds them firmly closed by the delicate skin of his thighs. Then, dripping a string of spit between Jimin’s folds, he nestles the head of his cock against his clitoris and grinds against it. 

Jimin gasps, feeling so much all at once. It’s so much hotter and wetter than his father’s fingers, and as much as he enjoys the alpha’s tongue against him, it’s incomparable to the size of it, the pressure.

At first, it’s a slow, exploratory slide, Yoongi using gentle force to dip his cock between his lids and stroke it against his clit. He focuses his attention there, rubbing hard circles beneath the sensitive skin of his cocklet before angling it between the tight join of his thighs.

As it strokes over his pulsing entrance, Jimin moans, imagining it pressing further, inside him, surpassing the barricade of his body and finally claiming him.

Alpha Min rubs there, teasingly, drawing more and more sounds of rapture from the omega before he slides back up to the height of his sex. He taps the plump flesh encasing Jimin’s cunt with his heavy length before delving inside once more, foreskin adding to the smooth glide as he thrusts against the sensitive bud in a facsimile of fucking him.

“There isn’t anything that would stop me from taking all the sweetness of this perfect pink flower and making it bloom,” Yoongi intones. “I’ll let you scream and scratch and bite and cry as much as you want to, but you will learn what it is to submit to an alpha, take his knot, take his seed, and be fully claimed. When it’s time, you will submit to me, and I will breed you full. My alpha has no intention of stopping until that is accomplished.”

The omega moans openly at his father’s words and the rising rhythm of heat shooting tendrils up his spine. He can’t take his eyes away from where the alpha sire’s cockhead is all but swallowed by the arc of his thick, swollen lids around the tip. It’s obscene to imagine that he's kissing his father’s dick with his pussy. 

In the nearby den, Jimin hears Taehyung, vocalization loud enough to reach through the walls. They seem to be calling to each other, the omegan sounds of their pleasure sweet and wanton as they echo throughout the rooms of the house.

The elation Jimin feels is thick in his throat, like syrup. His father is going to take him as his mate, give him pups, and fulfill his deepest desires. He relishes in the knowledge that he will remain under his alpha sire’s unwavering control, desired and cherished and adored; marked and knotted and dominated, forever.  

“Please, please, please,” Jimin begs, the delicious ache of release curling low in his gut. He’s so close, but he wants his father to cum with him for the first time. “Want you to feel good, Appa, want you to—” 

Alpha Min slaps down on his pussy, still rocking against the puffy nub of his clit, and Jimin cums immediately, sparks of pleasure bursting through his belly and spreading up his limbs. It’s so good he could cry, but he’s frustrated that his alpha sire won’t just cum for him. 

Easing off his legs, but keeping them no less pinned, Yoongi flips the omega onto his stomach and drags him up by the hips.

“This is how you present when an alpha directs you to,” he says, adjusting his son’s position and keeping his head lowered when he tries to push himself up. 

Jimin realizes with startling alacrity that they aren’t done yet. With shaky limbs, he relents to the forceful maneuvering, curling his small fists in the sheets and rubbing his face against the shirt sleeves pooling around his head. If not for his father’s hands keeping his lower half upright, he would be a puddle of lax muscle on the mattress.

The fucking between his thighs begins again in earnest, Jimin hardly able to regulate his breathing from his last orgasm before he’s experiencing the full length of his father’s cock stroking against all his small parts. Everything from his cocklet to his taint is an over-sensitized bundle of nerves.

“Good omega, so perfect,” Yoongi grunts, his own countenance not unaffected by his omega pup’s effortless submission. “Look at how red you are.”

“Appa,” Jimin chokes. He’s already so high from his first climax, and yet the threshold to climb higher looms.

If the pursuit of his release is like rolling a stone up a hill, awaiting for the inevitable shove off a cliff-face, this position tilts the mountain, makes the exertion like child’s play, the stone hurtling uphill and gaining momentum as it goes. 

Jimin has never come twice before, especially not within the span of a minute. The sensation of his first orgasm tangles with the encroaching euphoria of the second. He feels like he’s already cuming even though he knows the intensity hasn’t yet reached its peak. Every breath out of his mouth is a cry of ecstasy as his alpha sire thrusts harder, grinding relentlessly between his thighs.

Yoongi uses his own knees to keep the omega’s pinched together, freeing up his hands. He strokes up Jimin’s buttery-soft cheeks, landing a hard smack to his ass before dipping a thumb into his entrance. He anticipates the full-bodied flinch that threatens to tear Jimin away from him, hooking his digits deeper into his channel to open him up. He secures the head of his dick against the soft, damp opening and pulses inside.

Jimin wails.

Feeling the heat of his alpha sire’s semen flooding his vagina, straight from the source, combined with his second orgasm, is overwhelming. He scrabbles, trying to drag himself away from the thundering swell of sensation and gets another slap for it. Then another. Then another. His cunt gives a valiant twitch at the bright spot of pain-pleasure thrumming through his backside. The sounds he’s making are animal, somewhere between a sob and a drawn-out whine.

Alpha Min snatches his pup by the back of his neck and takes his mouth in a kiss, forcing Jimin to breathe through his nose and begin calming down. He uses his weight to bodily press the omega against his nest, where his nose can take in the cacophony of their combined scents, of sated alpha and omega pleasure.

Soon Jimin begins responding to the press of his father’s mouth, focusing on the soft, pleasant touch of lips and tongue against his own. He hums, body going lax under his alpha, content to doze off in the lavish sense of contentment and safety.  

Yoongi’s phone buzzes, and the alpha reaches for it, but he remains a sensory weight draped across his son. The click of his screen keyboard is rhythmic, luring Jimin closer to sleep, but the infrequent chimes signaling a reply make his sensitive ears twitch.

“Come on, sweetness,” the alpha strokes down his son’s back, urging him to stay awake. “Namjoon-ah is done with Taehyung and they’re using the guest bathroom to clean up. We should shower and do the same. It’s impolite to keep our guests waiting.”

“If I move it’s going to come out,” Jimin says petulantly.

Alpha Min can’t help puffing up a bit at his son’s reluctance to lose his seed from his channel.

“You’ll get it again, I promise,” Yoongi responds, patting low on his omega pup’s bare stomach. He doesn’t tell Jimin that it seems he won’t be needing his nightly treatment much longer. He rubs his thumb against the bedsheets, ignoring how much he wants to stick the tacky substance on the end of it in his mouth. It will only be a matter of days before his suspicion is confirmed.

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. 

Chapter Text

Thank you all so much for your incredible encouragement and kind comments. I wanted to provide an update just so you don’t feel like you’re shouting into the void. The void hears. I debated heavily about leaving an update, as I do not want to get anyone’s hopes up. I know it has been years.

When I started out writing this story, I had just moved back to my home country, I had boundless time because I was unemployed, and my one constant comfort was fandom. Since then, I got a job at one of the biggest entertainment companies in the world and moved two more times. Beyond that, the events of the world have been beyond my ability to cope. I don’t know how anyone stays sane in times like these. I’ve done therapy. I use fandom, as I imagine a lot of us do, to keep me sane.

I had never written Yoonmin before this fic. I read all dynamics and pairings for BTS, although my favorite and preference is for OT7 and Jikook, and that is what I primarily wrote (alongside MDZS). This one was a brainworm and an experiment.

Years ago, the corner of the fandom I was in became a very unsafe place. I thought there was absolutely nothing that could change my love for the BTS fandom and my resolve to carry on through the military enlistment. I thought I could avoid the fandom wars because I don’t participate in discussions and staunchly believe in staying in my lane and "if you don’t like, don’t read." However, the hatred and vitriol for Jikook shippers became so vile, most of my favorite and fellow writers got run off the platforms. They’ve all moved on to other fandoms or left entirely. That was super demoralizing.

Only recently, I’ve been inspired to start writing again. I discovered Thai BL last year, and it’s pulled me back into what I first loved about fandom. If you haven’t watched any, you’re missing out. It makes me feel like we’ve broken some law of the universe, basically getting adaptations of whatever omegaverse, college, mafia romance I believed I’d NEVER get a visual media for. Also, BTS fics that had been abandoned without updates for 5+ years are suddenly getting new chapters again. The fandom seems to be in a much healthier place than when I left it; the conversation around Jikook has gone so far in the other direction, I feel like I’m gaslighting myself with the memory of how atrocious it was. Either that or I’ve jumped into a different timeline where people support Jikook without getting attacked now? I’m shocked.

I guess all of this is to say, I’m considering finishing this story, but I don’t want to make any promises. I’m BAD at finishing things, evidenced by the fact that I’ve completed only ONE of my six works on Ao3. That’s embarrassing.

I went to college for writing, but I am well aware I do not have the drive and discipline to be an author. I get bored and distracted too easily. I maladaptive daydream too much instead of getting words down. I’m a SLOW writer. I get too many ideas and never follow through with them. I have been drinking from the well of imposter syndrome all my life. I’m scared that I won’t be able to get into the right headspace to give this story the ending it deserves. (I have no idea what I was ON when I initially wrote this.) I want to try, but for now I am RUNNING with the inspiration for the other story/fandom I’m currently working on. Writing is a muscle you have to exercise, and I’m trying to rebuild it again.

All I can offer is the knowledge that when I get stalled on the current fic I’m writing, I will try to work on this one. That, and I suppose if you want to read more of my writing, it’s been long enough I feel comfortable sharing my main account on here. (lawofABO) The only completed work is a historical, sibling incest omegaverse Jikook fic, but it’s not anywhere near the taboo/eroticism level of this one. For now, I’m doing an omegaverse college mafia romance in the KinnPorsche expanded universe with Joong/Dunk and Pond/Phuwin. If that doesn’t mean anything to you, I understand. 😂 (Although I'd highly recommend watching some GMMTV shows because Joong/Dunk are just the Thai version of Taehyung/Jimin. The Heart Killers is WILD. Also, Khemjira is available on Netflix now, and that's one of the best shows I've seen in years. Horror Romance, anyone?)

Once again, I want to thank you so much for the love and support you’ve shown this fic. I feel like Tinkerbell being brought back to life with the power of belief. I hope I will be able to satisfy you all and finish this story. Please know that I feel so badly that I haven't. 🙏 I cannot promise that I will, only that I will try. That's all I can offer for now.