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The burden is sometimes too much to hold, a heavy weight on his shoulders at the helm of one of the country's most influential corporations, and the loneliness of late nights with little more than cold sheets to sink his skin beneath as the dip beside him never quite follows.Four years and Yoongi thinks perhaps it is time for that selfish part of him to unearth, finding love once more despite his past. A past that once seemed so gilded yet here he lies with no one beside him— no one to heal an aching heart.As days drag on and nights fall solemn, the only spark is his miracle, his beaming daughter Yuri. She is soft, gentle and everything her father could ever wish for, and bears his anchor when it all simply becomes too much. Her little frame finds itself huddled against his own, the pads of his fingers drawing soft lines down her button nose and rosy cheeks, giggles falling in golden cascades as he peppers her face with delicate kisses akin those of the tips of butterfly wings grazing tender skin. Whilst he could dwell on the mutual separation, his first love never wanting to be tied to motherhood and what Seoul could offer — two alphas seemingly incompatible through their differing desires — his little pup Yuri is the very oxygen that he breathes. He adores every part of her from her sharp eyes resembling his own to the gummy smile he knows she’ll grow simply into, how her nose crinkles when she laughs and how her little feet patter against the tiles of the floor as she bounds through the apartment, her teddy bear Kkul never far from her small grasp.Nights are bittersweet, their routine one he cherishes as he picks her up from school with sleep-laced eyes and ‘appa’ falling from her lips. Dinner is prompt, Yoongi prides himself on cooking simply the best for his little angel, and as bathtime arrives, yawns take place of giggles and bedtime stories are read beside a small nightlight, the crescent moon holding two stars. As soft snores part her mouth, nights go by with hushed tales and lullabies, soft notes from a piano, and gentle purrs against his chest before he tucks his daughter in her bed and promises her the world. He often finds himself sleeping beside her, not wanting to part with what holds his heart any longer than he has to, as he knows when morning takes its place, perhaps what he dreads most arises.As nights are met with love and loneliness — a bittersweet dichotomy that has found itself as a permanent fixture in Yoongi’s life — all that mornings provide is the gentle stir of his daughter before their inevitable departure. Her arms outstretch to clutch his shirt, her nose buries in his neck as she breathes in his scent, and her eyes flutter closed once more as sleep all but consumes her. Yoongi lifts her out of bed each morning to soft grumbles and weak protests, kissing her forehead as her little arms wrap around his neck. Yet this tenderness hangs on a fine string, such as the web of a spider it unravels without falt. Soon, as breakfast is eaten and coffee is consumed, he lightly scents her, his presence a calming assurance on her throughout the day. But soon these tender moments pass and they settle in the car, Yoongi finding himself waving Yuri off at the yellow school gates with heaviness sinking in his chest. It is the hours that follow where his eyes stain with fatigue yet his mind busies himself with everything and anything he can, aching for nothing more than to hold her once more— sink into that serenity she so gently commands.Yoongi yearns for the love he once held, someone to hold at night just as Yuri holds her dear Kkul, his honey-coloured fur pressing against her soft cheek. He wishes for someone to hold his waist, for someone to kiss his lips until they’re breathless with little more than delicate sighs strewn between them, and he wants nothing more than for someone to simply ease the burden of life that sits leaden against his skin. Yet, perhaps above all, he wants someone to adore Yuri just as he does, to be there for her when life leads him astray, and to give her all of the love that he holds for her. She deserves to be raised in a house shrouded in those ever-sweet strands of love surrounding her every breath, blanketing her in warmth and kindness, tenderness and a sanctuary of belonging. Yuri adores school, having started at a small preschool close to where they reside. It’s a sweet thing, tucked from the bustle of the heart of Seoul, run by those simply wanting pups to grow with little else than love— opting for late nights tucked in a large beanbag in the corner of the classroom rather than dozing in the discomfort of her car seat.Mr Park, the teacher who prompts a wide smile against her cheeks and words to mindlessly fall in sweet chatter, provides her with all she wishes; drawing, painting, reading. She excels, he tells her in passing as her head slumps on her father’s shoulder and the young teacher’s kind eyes rest on her weary frame, and each meeting leaves Yoongi with a similar smile to tug at his lips, heart gently fluttering as he stills in what shrouds them.The day had been unusually busy and he finds himself still stuck in the boardroom with fingers softly drumming against the rosewood desk. His teeth tug against his lip which is now tinted cerise, and his eyes fix on the clock that reads five. The meeting doesn’t finish soon enough, Yoongi thinks, as his keys clang in his palm and he all but runs to his car. Yuri’s school isn’t far, yet each traffic light bears a red sign and cars are queued which only knots the nerves in his stomach. Guilt settles in Yoongi’s chest, hand on the steering wheel as he finalises his meeting notes over the car’s phone. It’s late and he’s remorseful at having inconvenienced the young teacher more times than he can count, late afternoons drifting into evenings, meetings with investors turning into dinners that he would rather go without. Whilst Mr Park insists it’s fine— that Yuri is a treasure to take care of— Yoongi feels all he has come to hold dear begin to crumble before his very eyes. A life where his daughter lines his mind, work so distant yet it’s all that his days comprise of. He aches to still with her as nights turn colder but somehow, another meeting arises.He reaches the school at five-thirty and enters the classroom a minute later, a string of apologies tumbling from his lips until he pauses. His eyes rest against Yuri, curled up in a corduroy beanbag with lips parted and eyes fluttered shut.“Hello, Yoongi-nim,” The teacher’s smile is calm, warm, and leaves the tension that courses Yoongi’s veins to falter just that little. “She fell asleep whilst reading so I let her be, she’s over in that beanbag she likes.” His voice is hushed and ever-soft, gaze so fond against Yuri whose little fingers loosely grasp a cardboard book, mouth parted for gentle snores to falter. “I hope it won’t interfere with her bedtime.” The teacher hums, delicate sounds tumbling from his lips prompting Yoongi’s heart to thrum against the walls of his chest.“You’ve stayed behind far too late, I really should have planned my meeting with more consideration.”Yoongi tears his eyes from his daughter’s content frame and turns to her teacher. His hair dusty-blonde and his eyes kind, as gentle as the timbre that falls in honeyed threads. An omega, Yoongi is quite sure of it, with how his body crouches down small and fingers lightly grazing her little cheek, and as she stirs, Yoongi hears a faint purr hitch in the man’s throat.The teacher is young, perhaps mid-twenties and certainly freshly graduated, yet whilst innocence seems to settle in thick lines against his every movement, maturity also rests in spades. He’a sweet, no other to command Yoongi’s trust of his daughter quite like him, and so, with a wavered breath, he swallows what dares to rise; a rumble born from contentment.“Please don’t apologise, sir.” His smile is gentle and his words are ever-soft. “Yuri,” he coos, gently nudging the little girl awake. “Your appa is here— he’s come to get you home.” She wearily turns to meet her father’s gaze, small hands reaching for him to pick her up. And so, he does. He hauls her up with palms under her thighs, hoisting her up so that her little arms wrap around his neck. She buries her head by his scent glad, breathing in all she has come to call her own— her father’s warmth, the sweetness that builds as he sees her, akin to charred marshmallows and the crackle of bonfires in the moon’s gentle glow. It’s warm in that ever-homely way, smoke burning her lungs and the heat of its crackle, all that dares to stave off winter’s unyielding chill.Yoongi turns to the teacher who holds her purple backpack adorned with glitter, housing a small teddy bear and some pens, a colouring book and a forgotten apple he had packed that morning.“If you want to get her in the car, I don’t mind taking this for you, sir.” Her teacher smiles, one that leaves Yoongi’s breath to hiccup, a stutter as his lips part and eyes widen. Yoongi nods, whispered gratitude falling from his lips as they turn to the slightly ajar door.“Did you have a good day at school today, my angel?” Yoongi asks, his voice low and alpha-laden as he gently brushes an eyelash off his daughter’s cheek.She nods. “Painting is my favourite.” She mumbles in a sleepy drawl prompting the teacher to giggle, eyes crescents and teeth bearing in a wide smile.“She’s such a pleasure, aren’t you Yuri? You’re always so polite, always so sweet and happy.” Her teacher’s voice is equally as soft yet not condescendingly so, and as Yuri lets lazy laughter peak from between her teeth, she hums a small reply and nuzzles back into her father’s neck.He can’t quite help but notice how Yoongi’s muscles tense under the weight of his daughter, how his biceps strain the seams of his white shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows as his glasses rest low against the bridge of his nose. He can’t help but notice the way his eyes are sharp yet features impossibly soft, his hair dark but skin ivory-soft. He’s well-built, similar height to himself— older, exuding gentle authority— and his scent all but envelops his senses, the slight smoulder of open fires and the roast of coffee— the lingering sweetness of petrichor, one that only grows with each kiss to his daughter’s cheek. Yoongi’s attractive— impossibly so— and it makes his head cloud with the daze of wonder just if the shy glances and slight tint of rose on Yoongi’s cheeks are because of him.He doesn’t quite hold favourites, but quietly, if he had to choose, this little family would be the one he’d choose above all in his classroom. He holds them dear, a single father who tries his best in every breath and the sweetest little girl who leaves hand-printed walls stained with laughter.The car is large— luxurious— and he isn’t quite sure what he expected knowing his status overseeing perhaps the country’s largest corporations, yet he opens the door for them both, allowing Yoongi to firmly place his daughter in the little car seat.“Thank you, seonsaengnim.” Yoongi nods his head, closing the door with a gentle push so as not to wake Yuri.“Jimin. You can call me Jimin, it’s okay.” Her teacher replies with a glimmering gaze, housing constellations strung on silvered threads. He hands Yoongi the small backpack, a smile never faltering from his lips.Loneliness is aching, Yoongi thinks. Late nights with little more than wine and sorrow as company, and he lets himself wonder if this is who he’s been longing for all this time.“That’s a sweet name,” Yoongi replies, not missing how Jimin’s cheeks dust crimson at the feather-soft compliment, one falling without thought as fatigue settles and such a distant hope begins to prevail.“Thank you, sir.”“You can call me Yoongi— no need for formalities.” He smiles, fingers lingering perhaps a little too long against Jimin’s own as he finally takes the small backpack from his grasp.Jimin’s eyes avert, lips parting just that little as his cheeks still bloom rose.“Well, Yoongi-ssi,” he begins after a drawn-out moment, one to leave Yoongi’s heart ablaze. “You have the loveliest little girl so please don’t think you’re burdening me by working late, I understand it comes with your job. She really is a blessing to teach.” Yoongi smiles at his words, Jimin bowing slightly as he tugs a cardigan over his frame, stepping back just that little to make his departure. “I hope you both have a good rest of your evening and that she gets off to sleep alright, and,” he pauses, a soft smile tugging at his cheeks, “I’ll see you tomorrow?” The words tumble as a tentative question, Yoongi never quite making it into the classroom before he sees Yuri off for the day, yet it falls with gentle hope leaving Yoongi to nod.“You will. I’ll be sure to bring her in. As much as she likes to say she is, I don’t think she’s quite ready to be a big girl yet, sometimes she still needs her appa’s hand to hold.”And at these words, Jimin giggles, a little bashful now as Yoongi, too, smiles. As they say their goodbyes, Yoongi can’t quite help the ache in his chest grow, sunshine smiles and lightly dimpled cheeks taking their place within his mind, and he wonders— by divine fate— if Jimin could find his fit in their little family. He wonders whether he could be truly happy, finally finding his forever in a sweet omega to call his own, to curl beside him during lazy afternoons with sunbeams tinting cheeks golden and eyes fluttered closed. Whether late nights will leave him whole, a body pressed against his own as fingers tangle through delicate strands, and so, as Yuri falls asleep beside her little bear, Yoongi lets hope bleed within his veins; a distant hope solely for Jimin.Night comes that little easier with the promise of meeting Jimin again and perhaps what resides in his chest is unfounded, but Yoongi hopes something beautiful may come from what gilded moment seemed to shroud them. Yoongi is quick to haul Yuri into his arms, settling her in her high chair as she wakes, leaving the little girl babbling about her day and how she was good. She tells him just how she let her teacher wipe her hands of yellow paint as they stamped rainbow handprints on the back wall and had eaten carrot sticks that made her jaw ache, and as lunchtime came around, she played with her friend Yuna in the sandpit leaving fingers itchy.“I’m sorry I was late, my angel.” Yoongi begins as he cooks some vegetables for their dinner, lightly charring each side. “Appa had a meeting, I’ve told you about my meetings before, haven’t I?”“They’re important!” Yuri giggles, little fingers around waxy crayons now as she chooses a colour, a soft hum right against her tongue.“That’s right, and appa doesn’t like to be away from his sweet angel, does he?” She shakes her head in response, Yoongi’s eyes flitting between grilling meat and his daughter. “Your seonsaengnim is so kind, he takes care of you when appa is at work.”“He does!” She giggles, a small gasp parting her lips. “Can I draw him a picture?” She asks.“I think he’d love that, angel. You could give it to him as a thank you for taking care of you tonight.”Yuri hums, tongue peeking out between her teeth as her brows furrow in concentration, and as the first batch of meat is cooked, Yoongi can’t help himself but to step towards her, tongs around a piece as he hands it to her.“Open wide,” And she does, a little ‘ah’ falling from her lips as Yoongi places a small strip of meat in her mouth. Feet kick and giggles fall, such sweet sounds muffled by her chewing. And so, Yoongi kisses her head, casting an eye over her drawing of a blonde man and a heart, finding himself unable to bite back the smile that tugs against his cheeks.Bathtime follows dinner, cherry blossom bubbles on noses and sleepy smiles turn to heavy-lidded eyes as Yoongi tucks her into bed, Kkul is snugly placed in her arms and Yoongi reading her favourite story. It’s one she could perhaps recite by heart yet her father’s low drawl and familiar scent prompts her to drift quickly, not before curling up beside him as the rumbles of his tender croons course her little body.He gently pries himself from beneath her, limbs hidden under cotton sheets as her eyes flit behind her lids. She pulls Kkul tight in gentle slumber, and as Yoongi dips to brush her hair behind her ears and press a soft kiss to her head, she hums quietly.“Sweet dreams, my angel.” Yoongi coos, thumb lightly grazing her cheek. “I love you.” Yoongi clutches Yuri’s small hand in his own as the morning rises. Her little fingers are wrapped around his palm as she skips over the cracks of the pavement, jumping and leaping as she all but tugs her father into the classroom.“Appa will see seonsaengnin!” She says with a smile, eyes crinkling just as Yoongi’s own command, and so, Yoongi simply hums, letting his daughter lead the short distance before she stops and points to her small locker.Yoongi doesn’t quite need these instructions, their morning ritual etched into his mind, he indulges her command, placing her little backpack against the wooden shelf where her name resides. But Yoongi rarely ventures further, letting go of Yuri’s hand as she runs into the classroom to a chorus of greetings and giggles, little squeals and small whines as she chatters with her friends. Now, as his heart thrums something most divine— born from an assurance the night prior— Yoongi walks in ensuring that Yuri’s drawing is placed firmly in her grasp.They near Jimin now, little cheeks bashful as she hums words rehearsed within her carseat, yet faced with her teacher’s sweet smile, she hides right beside her father. Her legs cross and her chin tucks against her neck, eyes turning to her shoes as her grip on Yoongi’s hand tightens.“You’re alright, angel, he’ll love it.” Yoongi soothes, broad palm brushing her nape as she stammers.Jimin had already spotted them beside the door, turning his attention from the pups lightly tustling in the corner to Yoongi and his sweet girl, and as his eyes follow her tentative frame, he bends down to meet her.“Morning Yuri!” He smiles, hand featherlight against her arm. “And good morning Yoongi-ssi,” Jimin’s eyes turn to Yoongi, a dust of rose to tint his cheeks as their gazes meet, and Yoongi finds the words stick to his throat like the bittersweet cloy of honey, clinging to all that they can and unfaltering despite his best efforts.“This is for you,” Yuri mumbles, eyes sweetly wide as her lips protrude in a pout.“A thank you for yesterday, for taking care of her whilst I was at work.” Yoongi gently elaborates, watching Jimin’s smile bloom against his cheeks.“For me? Yuri-yah, you’re so kind aren’t you?” Jimin’s words fall soft as he takes the drawing from her hold. “You’re incredibly talented— I knew we had a little artist on our hands.” His curled finger grazes her cheek leaving the warmth of giggles to fall and her smile to widen, one mirrored by her father as he watches his daughter’s delight, spreading something most tender within his chest— the kind to course his veins to leave his heart stammering against all that dares to house it. “As I said, Yoongi-ssi, I never mind. You don’t have to apologise.”And as Yoongi takes a quick glance at his watch, his heart sinks that little more. What morning he holds so dear is now drawing to its end, veins once filled with hope now leaden in dread. And so, he crouches down to Yuri’s gaze and takes her hands in his own.“You’ll be a good girl today, won’t you? I don’t want to hear from your seonsaengnim that you’ve been naughty.” She giggles once more, eyes boring into her father’s own as she nods. “I love you, my angel. Appa has to go to work now, but I’ll be here when school finishes.” He holds her tight, palms flat against her spine, but as soft sniffles fall, Yoongi pulls back. “You’ll be with your friends, your seonsaengnim, Kkul, and you’ll have such a good day, Yuri-yah. The day will go by so quickly, I promise. And I’ll be here waiting for you at the end.” He cups her cheek, the pad of his thumb drawing soft circles against its round before he presses a kiss against each one, turning to her forehead, and finally her small buttoned nose. “I love you, Yuri-yah.” He says as he stands, and after a final hug she runs over to her friends, a wavering smile once more residing on her face.As Yoongi stands, his eyes meet Jimin’s, cheeks tinting crimson as awareness of his unwaning settles, yet Jimin simply giggles.“I should get going, but have a good day Jimin-ssi.” Yoongi’s fingers graze the nape of his neck as the soft strings of tension settle between their frames, but it isn’t unwelcome, perhaps simply a fragility of feelings not quite ready to bare their teeth. In the distance, Yoongi has always harboured such a warmth towards Jimin, even if moments were fleeting, but now, something seems to lie a little thicker and hope prevails albeit tentatively.“You too, Yoongi-ssi, and don’t work too hard. I know it’s difficult not to with your position, but you deserve a little rest.” It’s a small gesture of kindness but it’s one that Yoongi wishes would find its way as a constant in his life, replacing the solemn nights of loneliness and echoing rooms, demands placed on his shoulders and expectations never met. Instead, Yoongi aches for days filled with gentle assurances and kind words— the soothing comfort of the omega beside him. — Each night that he finds himself spending at his desk, meetings dragging into moonlit skies, Jimin sits at his own, watching Yuri’s eyes flutter closed as fatigue takes its toll, smile tugging at his cheeks as soft snores part her lips. She draws pictures of Yoongi and Jimin, a little house around them as she resides between, and each time she shows her father her creations, words cling to his throat and heat pricks his nape. She giggles that ‘appa should marry seonsaengnim, and despite Yoongi’s intentions to do so, he can’t quite find it within him to protest.Yet, the guilt permeates Yoongi’s conscious, and one night he finds himself off work later than he has ever been with a flurry of apologies at the tip of his tongue. He opens the classroom door, eyes resting on the small beanbag where Yuri sits curled up in Jimin’s lap, nose nuzzled against his neck as her body finds its gentle rhythm in a slow breath. Soft melodies fall from Jimin’s lips as he cradles her, arms moving back and forth to ease her descent into slumber. At this, Yoongi can’t quite tear his gaze away, watching as Jimin sings lullabies in honeyed strings, eyes never faltering from her little frame. It’s a gilded sight, one that leaves his alpha to yearn within. Rumbles gently fall, those only marred by Jimin’s own purrs that lie thick, but as Yoongi steps closer, Jimin looks up with a smile tugging at his cheeks.“Yuri-yah,” He whispers, brushing a fallen strand off of her face with the feathered touch of a curled finger. “Your appa is here.” Yet she doesn’t stir, instead gentle exhales puff heat against Jimin’s neck to a soft giggle from his tongue. “I think she’s out like a light. Poor baby, she’s been a bit teary today. One of the pups knocked her over during lunch and she fell. She has a small graze on her knee but I think she was shocked more than anything. She’s been a little upset ever since.”Yoongi crouches down, fingers holding her teddy bear in his grasp and he thinks he has perhaps never fallen quite as hard for someone as he has right in this moment. Premature yet right, watching Yuri cuddle further into Jimin’s tender hold. His alpha wishes for nothing more than the man before him, watching how he cares for his pup with such tenderness. Jimin is soft, gentle, everything he could ever ask for to take care of his entirety, and as Yuri’s arms tighten around Jimin’s neck, whispered laughs fall from their tongues.“Jimin-ssi, I’m really sorry—”“Haven’t I said, Yoongi-ssi? I never mind. I could stay all night taking care of her if you needed, it isn’t as if I’d be doing much more than reading alone at home anyway.” And however selfish it feels, part of Yoongi relishes in the revelation, one that Jimin may be as lonely as he is. Yuri nuzzles that bit more into Jimin’s neck, his scent having faded with the mandatory use of blockers but it prevails just enough to soothe her— fresh linen and honeyed tuberose, peach and the warmth of syrup. “Ah, she’s a cuddly pup, isn’t she?” Jimin smiles fondly, eyes flitting to the little girl in his arms.“She always has been. She left Kkul in the car this morning so I thought I’d bring it to her.” Yoongi holds up the small bear, cheeks rose-dusted as he can’t quite tear his gaze from what sight lies before him. “I think she’s found something else to hug instead.” And so, he runs his fingers through her soft strands, small purrs residing in her throat. “Yuri-yah— angel— appa’s here.” Yoongi raises his voice slightly, just enough to stir her from her slumber, yet she simply shuffles, mumbling a quiet ‘comfy’, and lets her eyes flutter closed once more.“Yuri-yah, your appa needs to take you home. You can have a nice warm bath, feed that little tummy of yours, watch your favourite cartoons, and hug Kkul.” Jimin coos, but his words are met with a small whine and a shake of her head, prompting Yoongi to sigh and rake his fingers through his scalp.Words still on his tongue, those of a question he isn’t certain should fall, but as he lets his eyes rest once more against Jimin’s own, it seems right.“Jimin-ssi,” Yoongi begins, his voice perhaps a little too soft, “have you eaten?”It leaves Jimin to smile, cheeks tugging and eyes crinkling oh-so-sweetly. He shakes his head, careful never to jolt the little pup still within his arms.“No, I’ll just make some instant ramen when I get home, don’t worry about me.”Yoongi’s heart heavies, the vision of such a gentle omega eating convenience store ramen alone leaving his tongue to lie that little looser now, perhaps regret settling in its wake but for a moment, Yoongi wonders just what he has to lose.“Is it wrong if I ask you to join us both for dinner?” Yoongi asks, eyes still against Jimin’s own; those that string unbridled sincerity and remorse. “It’s my own fault you’re still here, you’d be relaxing at home with a glass of wine after such a long day if it weren’t for me. The least I can do is invite you for dinner.” Yoongi watches as Jimin’s eyes widen, plump lips part, and as he turns his once-shyly averted gaze to Yoongi, the beginnings of a smile tug at his cheeks.“I wouldn’t want to impose.” He whispers, aware of the gentle snores once more falling from Yuri’s tongue.“You wouldn’t— I promise. I always make too much food and can’t say some company wouldn’t be a welcome change. I understand if you don’t want to, but the offer is there.”Jimin turns his attention back to the sleeping Yuri, firmly in his grasp with little more than the rise and fall of her chest filling the air. He stills, heart thrumming within his chest but that ache of loneliness seems to subside beside them both, so with a little giggle, he nods.“Okay, I’ll join you both. Thank you, Yoongi-ssi.”Yoongi helps Jimin to his feet, Yuri’s legs wrapping around Jimin’s waist as he holds her tightly, never daring for her to falter from his grasp .“Are you alright to take her? I can if you’d like” Yoongi hums, arms outstretched yet they find their fall as Jimin nods.“She drew a picture that she wanted to give to you, it’s the one on my desk if you want to get it.” Jimin’s words are soft, laced with a fondness that spreads warmth within Yoongi’s chest. “She wanted to give it to you herself but she fell asleep not long before you arrived.”Yoongi takes the drawing, one of three figures just as she always does, making his heart thrum in a steady crescendo; one to spell hope for what lies so gilded ahead. “This one?”Jimin’s laugh is soft, barely a whisper as he stands beside Yoongi with Yuri still in his arms. “She’s a talented little artist, isn’t she?”“She is. She loves to paint too although it does get quite messy.”“The pups love painting— so do I but the clean up… it’s a lot.” Jimin’s eyes rest on Yoongi’s, a delicate moment that threads golden strands between them, tenderness and affection strung from their irises in pure serenity.“It’s sweet though, they’re not this little for long. I think I’ll miss it when she grows up. I’ll miss taking care of her— holding her little hands, pinching her little cheeks— I don’t think she’ll appreciate that much when she’s older.”Jimin’s laugh is gentle, walking next to Yoongi as they make their way to his car. “You have to cherish every day that you have with them. You know, she’s so kind,” Jimin pauses for a breath, his voice tumbling to little more than a whisper, “just like her father.”They’re ever-warm words that prompt Yoongi to inhale sharply, autumn’s chill piercing his lungs as heat spreads to his nape and courses his spine, finding rest at the small of his back where the inferno begins to smoulder. His alpha is content— preening at what falls from Jimin’s tongue. The omega proving himself with every breath and so, as Yoongi lets his gaze turn to his little girl who still lies within Jimin’s grasp, he holds onto what feeling seems bittersweet; one he’s desperately craved would find its feet once more.“She is, so much kinder.” Yoongi manages, opening the car door for Jimin to place her in the car seat. The pads of his fingers are featherlight against her skin, brushing fallen strands — hair tousled from her sleep — yet she doesn’t stir, allowing Yoongi to secure the buckles around her. Jimin holds the small bear, tucking it firmly in her grasp as her head slumps to the side, soft sighs falling from her parted lips in slumber.“To yours?” Jimin asks, and Yoongi nods, perhaps that little shyly.And so, after Yoongi details his address, they briefly part with shy smiles and cheeks dusted rose, hearts ablaze and veins thrumming as minds cast to a seemingly gilded future. It doesn’t take long for either to arrive, Yoongi waiting to let Jimin park beneath the apartment complex, and as they step out of their cars, a giddy haze finds its way into Jimin’s mind.“I’ll take her up if you want.”“You’re too kind, thank you, Jimin-ssi.” Yoongi mumbles, opening the car door with a soft click before Jimin reaches in, undoing the buckles of the car seat. He hands Kkul to Yoongi and gently lifts Yuri out of the car, arms once more wrapped around his neck as her ankles cross at his spine, and it takes little time for them to reach the apartment with her small backpack and Yoongi’s briefcase in tow.His apartment is clean, with a woodiness that Jimin finds shrouds him in that ever-perfect way. It’s laced with coffee— perpetually Yoongi— and his scent that lingers seems that bit more intense as he steps further into his home. It feels safe and calm with hand carved wood lining walls, fabric furnishings and toffee-scented diffusers, the warmth of old vinyl and open fireplaces— the familiarity of tender home.Jimin steps closer to Yoongi, gaze a little hesitant now as he still holds the sleeping pup within his grasp.“Where do you want her?” He asks in a hushed whisper, something that bears heat within Yoongi’s veins.“The couch, she shouldn’t sleep too long then.” It’s lined with gentle laughter, warm and ever-fond. “Thank you, Jimin-ssi.”Jimin obliges with a soft smile, taking Yuri to the couch before laying her down gently, head placed on a small cushion as he drapes a fluffy blanket over her frame with Kkul nestled beneath her chin.And so, as bodies turn towards the kitchen, Yoongi takes out a bottle of wine and pops its cork. His gaze turns to Jimin’s own, one bearing all that lies most sweet as the remnants of a blush tint his cheeks rosy. Perhaps it’s born from Yoongi’s muscles tugging at the seams of his shirt as they flex, how his glasses fall to the tip of his nose from the sudden movements, or simply the warmth of the apartment, no longer battling the evening breeze. But it’s divine against such gentle cheeks, a crimson flush bearing distilled omegan gentleness.“Want a glass?” Yoongi asks, and Jimin stutters, honeyed words stuck in his throat as he debates whether to give in to what he so ardently wishes, or to keep up the image that he so carefully crafts in the face of an alpha that so tenderly commands his thrumming heart.“As much as it’s tempting I shouldn’t, I’ll need to drive home and—”“I can sort that out if you'd like, no worries if not.”And as Jimin debates, watching as Yoongi’s eyes so sweetly pleading, he feels his cheeks fluster. He could never refute him, not now his omega yearns for comfort— the safety and warmth of an alpha’s presence. So, he nods, a little giggle right against his tongue as he settles on the stool before a marbled bench.“You make a convincing argument, thank you Yoongi-ssi, I’d love one.” Jimin gives in, a smile tugging at his cheeks.It feels comfortable, more solace than he’s had with nights spent alone or with those who simply want nothing more than his body for a single moment— an omega to lie with as they chase their release before leaving without so much more than a ‘goodbye’. No one to leave his cheeks ablaze or laughter to line his lips, heart to thrum nor the promise of warmth flooding his veins.“You’ve had a long day— again, I’m sorry for that.” He apologises as he pours two glasses, setting the white wine back in the fridge to chill.Yet as their lips touch the rims of their glasses— those far too ornate for Jimin’s gaze, he distantly thinks— the soft pad of feet halt them, prompting Jimin to quickly stand and bend down behind the kitchen island as Yuri stumbles towards him. “Yuri-yah,” He smiles, arms outstretched as the little pup falls into them.“You’re at my house.” She mumbles in a sleep-laced drawl against his shirt, her little face buried into his chest as his palm rests at the back of her head. She pulls back slightly, just enough for Jimin to lightly brush her cheek with a curled finger.“I am, is that alright?” Jimin’s voice is achingly gentle, all that leaves Yoongi’s heart to thrum.She nods, a gummy smile bearing her teeth as giggles fall in soft puffs. “I want you at my house every day!”“I know Yuri-yah, you drew that picture, didn’t you? Your appa loved it.” Jimin’s laughter is light, cheeks tinting pink and whilst he doesn’t see Yoongi standing behind marble, he wonders whether his own are equally as flushed.“Are you staying over?” She asks, words falling with an innocent pout. And so, Jimin nods, hauling her up in his grasp once more.“For dinner. Are you hungry?”“Yes! But you gave me a cookie after school.” She reminds him, her little nose scrunching as her legs once more find their rest around Jimin’s waist, prompting him to stand with her cradled in his grasp.Jimin giggles, touching her little nose as she all but squeals and buries her face in his neck. “I thought I told you not to tell your appa that I gave you one of my yummy chocolate chip cookies!” He feigns a gasp and words fall over-enunciated, yet it’s futile as it falters to strings of laughter.And as Jimin taps her nose once more, warmth spreads further in Yoongi’s chest, coursing his veins and leaving his cheeks tinted cerise. His eyes soften and lips curl, and what hole had found itself torn in their little family has a small hope of repair.“Appa says to tell him secrets. He doesn’t like secrets.” She says matter-of-factly, a little huff emphasising her words. Jimin smiles, a warm, ever-fond thing right to Yuri’s sweet face.“Yes, he’s right, and you’re a good girl aren’t you, Yuri-yah?” Jimin gently twirls their frames, honeyed giggles tumbling in small cascades and Yoongi can’t bite back his widening smile at watching such a gentle omega tend to his little girl, all he’s ever yearned for strung right before him.“I’m making spaghetti, is that okay? It’s quick and I have the sauce already made…” Yoongi trails off, Jimin turning to Yoongi as Yuri’s little fingers toy with the hair at his nape.“That sounds lovely, thank you Yoongi-ssi.”“Ah, don’t forget this.” Yoongi hands Jimin his glass, small smiles turning a little teasing— their lips tugging into gentle smiles— and as Jimin takes a small sip, Yuri’s brows furrow.“What’s that?” She asks, pout once more protruding from her mouth.Yoongi laughs, taking a sip of his own glass before mumbling. “You know what appa drinks sometimes that you can’t have? Only big boys and girls can have this.”“But I’m a big girl.” She whines with little hands balled into fists around Jimin’s shirt.“Yuri-yah, even I couldn’t have it a few years ago. It’s a grown-up drink.” He tucks a strand behind her ear as she rests her head on his shoulder.“Oh.” She huffs. “I’m not a grown-up.” She manages sleep-hazed words through a little yawn, one that Yoongi, too, mirrors. Her tongue rounds against a sweet lisp, Jimin’s cheeks ablaze in fondness for the pup.“Did you have a favourite activity today, Yuri-yah?” Jimin lightly moves, body swaying in a gentle rhythm as she stills in his grasp. It’s to lull her into serenity, a hum falling from his tongue as it shrouds her in comfort— fatigue thick against her skin.“Yes! I liked painting!” Words tumble in haste, excitement flooding little veins. “We did painting, appa!”Yet Yoongi turns to them with sleep-laced eyes and a tired smile, tugging at Jimin’s heart at seeing exhaustion find its heavy rest against him. “That’s good, angel.” Is all Yoongi manages, stifling yet another yawn. But it prompts her to whine, Jimin lightly shushing her as Yoongi stirs the sauce.“Appa’s alright; he’s just tired, he had a busy day. But you had a nap, didn’t you? Appa didn’t get a nap today.” And as Yoongi chuckles, Jimin’s gaze averts from Yoongi to hide his gentle smile.Silence settles between them, and as Yuri yawns once more, Yoongi can’t help guilt bubble within his chest.“Ah, angel. Appa won’t be long, alright?” He says. “You can eat and then I’ll give you a bath.”Perhaps what question lines Jimin’s tongue is a little too hasty for what strings between them, overstepping all that Yoongi has provided, yet Yoongi’s eyes bloom livid and his limbs slow to a drawl, and as the moments pass, Jimin begins to feel Yuri’s frame heavy against his own.“Do you have a routine?” He asks, leaving Yoongi to turn to him with as wide eyes before he nods, words stilling against his tongue for a brief moment woven in confusion.“We usually eat, I bathe her, then it’s bedtime.”“Is she okay if it changes a little?”Yoongi pauses for a breath as that same confusion never wanes, yet it’s gentle, settling against his forehead leaving brows to faintly furrow, the sauce now wholly forgotten. “She hasn’t complained before.”“If you bathe her now, I can finish dinner. She can sleep quicker that way and you can rest. Dinner will be cooked by the time you’re done, I can assure you.” Jimin’s words don’t fall unkindly, laced with ever-sweet eyes and a tenderness that Yoongi has wished for through years of solemnity as the sole man to tend to his daughter. He knows he could accept what help is available to a man such as he; money never stretched thin yet its these nights he cherishes with his little girl that spur him on to what days lie so aching ahead.But how could he let Jimin cook? Not least for the fact that he invited the omega for dinner with them both. He knows all too well of nights alone, those before the TV as eyes draw weary and hearts despondent, and so, he shakes his head even if Jimin’s eyes round against the most gilded plea.“I asked you to come here for dinner, I couldn’t ask you to—”“Please, Yoongi-ssi. You look exhausted and you’ve had such a long day, I really don’t mind at all.” Jimin steps closer, resisting the urge to rest his chin on Yoongi’s shoulder in serenity or to brush his cheek with the pad of his finger and watch as his eyes flutter closed. He settles on simply watching Yoongi’s face soften and his lips begin to tug, and so, Yoongi nods.“So have you,” Yoongi says as Jimin places Yuri down, but Jimin’s eyes halt any further protest, stern yet kind, and exuding a care that Yoongi has so often longed for through nights alone. With a breath, one a little wavered yet ever-fond, Yoongi hums. “The garlic bread only takes ten minutes in the oven and the pasta around five. I’m so sorry, Jimin-ssi. Thank you.”As Yoongi takes a sleepy Yuri to the bathroom, gentle lullabies and the running of water muffled by the closed door, Jimin lets his lips draw up into an aching smile. It’s contentment, serenity, a sense of belonging stringing itself between three souls, and Jimin lets himself dare to think for just a moment how it would feel to be a part of their forever. How it would feel to wake beside them, Yuri’s little frame tucked between their own, and how late nights would be spent curled up against the sofa, Yoongi’s fingers grazing lines against his scalp. He wonders how he would feel to scent the alpha, Yoongi’s broad frame beneath his own as calloused fingers graze his neck, and part of him wishes for the night to still, leaving the three of them in such fragile sanctuary for a justlittle while longer.But such moments are fleeting, Jimin knows, and as he finishes off the dinner— serving up two large portions and a small size for Yuri, ensuring the spaghetti is neatly cut and sauce mixed through— the night begins to thicken, moon strung high now and the faint glow of sunset having long-waned. It isn’t long before they emerge, Yuri in a powder blue dressing gown adorned with yellow ducks with little lilac pyjamas underneath. Her hair is damp and a fatigued pout rests against her lips, one that dissipates as soon as she sees Jimin. She’s sweet, a darling little pup that Jimin has always carved out a place in his heart fr“You’re is still here!” She says, heels kicking together as Yoongi sits her in her chair before Jimin hands her the plate, a spoon and a fork following, before she pushes spaghetti past her lips and leaves her cheeks doughy.“Don’t be too messy, angel. And thank your seonsaengnim for your dinner.” Yoongi nods as Jimin places a plate in front of him, fingers twitching to find their rest on his shoulder, but he decides against it.“Wait!” She says as Jimin turns to leave, prompting him to turn to her with wide eyes. She places a kiss against his cheek, one that leaves soft giggles to fall and squeals to follow. “Thank you!”Jimin smiles, gentle and fond, and Yoongi cannot quite hide his own. “You’re very welcome, Yuri-yah.”“She’s made that a habit now. I’m sorry, Jimin-ssi, this was supposed to be an apology for keeping you so late and you ended up making us dinner.” Jimin doesn’t miss the small sigh that prompts his face to fall, eyes averting to his dinner as his fingers toy with the base of the glass. Jimin’s inhale is drawn out, quick to settle a debate in his mind about whether or not to console him. It’s a breath that stalls him but he pays it little thought, letting his own fingers brush the skin of Yoongi’s hand and watching with an ever-soft gaze as Yoongi looks up with flushed cheeks.“Yoongi-ssi, how do I get you to stop apologising?” Jimin’s words fall so gently, a quiet whisper that grazes over Yoongi’s skin leaving dimples to follow. “I promise you, it’s more than fine. She’s bathed, we’re eating, and we’ll brush our teeth and get to bed, won’t we Yuri-yah?” Jimin turns to the little girl, quietly chewing the pasta as small hums and the clap of her feet are all that dare to fall.Little conversation strings between them, perhaps that bit too flustered. Cheeks turn doughy and gratitudes lie thickly, Yoongi never once spelling anything less than his thanks at Jimin’s help. To have someone ease that burden— even just for a while— leaves him that little lighter. No longer the sole man to tend to a little pup and whilst he seemingly holds the world in his palm, he’d never trade it for relief, yet some nights seem aching— overwhelming against his shoulders— and so, as Jimin sits before him, he can’t halt his heart’s thrum. Somehow he proves himself with each breath, gentle with Yuri as hums tumble from her tongue, and if Yoongi could, perhaps he’d mask his scent; one content and warm, the comfort of home.As they finish, Jimin wipes Yuri’s mouth, noticing her eyes turn heavy-lidded and her head slightly slumped.“Can you read to me please?” She asks in a heavy drawl, eyes threatening to spill heated tracks down her cheeks. Fatigue leaves her body far too frazzled, mind a daze and perhaps, in a distant thought, Jimin wonders if she, too, doesn’t want the day to find its falter.“Of course I can, Yuri-yah.” But Jimin’s eyes widen as she shakes her head, a little huff parting her lips as whines begin to tumble. “What’s wrong?”“No.” Is all she says, fatigue taking its toll on her body. Such a leaden weight on a small frame, something Jimin is well-versed in as he tends to children each day but somehow, born from Yuri’s eyes in the face of her father, Jimin’s heart gently breaks. So, Jimin lifts her up, settling her on his hip as he gently rocks her to soothe.“Be kind, Yuri-yah.” Yoongi mumbles, perhaps equally as exhausted. The weight of expectations at the helm of his company— the sole man to take care of his daughter— leave Yoongi breathless, all but broken beneath what exterior he so carefully crafts and so, as Jimin’s gaze bleeds concern, it’s one that begins to falter. So his scold turns harsher as she shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at her father as whines turn louder.“I want you to sing.” She whines before burying her head in Jimin’s shoulder. It’s something Jimin knows all too well, days far too aching for little bodies. Overwhelm born from exhaustion, afternoons long and nights stretched thin, and so, Jimin sighs, his gaze meeting Yoongi whose face is etched with defeat.“I’ll sing to you,” Jimin begins, his voice softer now, akin to the most tender croon. “But only if you apologise to your appa.”A moment of silence stills between them, her fingers clenching around the fabric of Jimin’s shirt once more until she lifts her head and shakes it in defiance.“Yuri-yah,” Jimin’s voice turns a little more stern. “I won’t sing to you until you apologise for sticking your tongue out.”“Sorry appa.” She pouts, prompting Jimin to lightly brush her cheek, immediately tugging her close as she buries herself within his grasp once more.“It’s okay, my angel. Thank you for saying you’re sorry.” Yoongi smiles, fatigue-bloomed but warm, his scent so thick now as he watches Jimin tend to his little girl. From nights alone— those ever-aching, despondent things— too much to handle by himself, those strands of hope seem only to grow, not only for Yuri but perhaps, Yoongi believes, to heal his own heart.“I’ll get her teeth brushed and in bed, is that alright? You’ve had a big day, haven’t you, Yuri-yah? You’re very tired.” Jimin’s voice is a gentle hum, a soothing melody that leaves Yuri’s eyes to fall with the weight of fatigue, and Yoongi’s heart to thrum against the walls of his chest.And Yoongi nods, mumbling that he’ll clean up their plates and he’ll join them as soon as he can, that the bathroom is just down the hall and Yuri’s room one never to miss. It takes little time for Yuri to brush her teeth, Jimin keeping a watchful eye as he hauls her against the marbled counter. She directs Jimin to her room, walls painted lavender as little night lights are strewn in small moons and stars, clouding the walls magenta and cobalt with emerald stars softly twinkling against the ceiling. He tucks her in bed, settling beside her as she curls up with knees drawn and fingers tugging at her lips. Kkul lies in her grasp, Yoongi having placed the well-loved little bear beneath cotton sheets, and as he begins to quietly sing— the most divine croon— a small smile tugs at her cheeks. It doesn’t take her long to fall, mirroring hours prior cradled in Jimin’s arms as they sat on the beanbag, and as her chest begins its slow rise and fall, Jimin can’t bite back his own smile that resides on his lips.“You got her down quick,” Yoongi whispers, a glass of wine held in a tentative grasp. He would never spell it but his eyes never faltered from Jimin’s frame, watching from the door. Shrouded in darkness yet his presence warm, scent ever-thick throughout the grain of every wall, what seems to soothe Jimin’s omega even it’d never fall from his tongue. “Would you stay a little? I don’t even think you finished your wine…” He trails off, his body leaning against that of the door as his eyes meet Jimin’s own, so gently prying himself from Yuri’s loose hold.“Ah, I wouldn’t want to be a burden—”“You really wouldn’t, I promise you.”Jimin smiles, tucking a now-fallen Kkul in her grasp as he turns off the lamp beside them, leaving little more than the dim amber glow of the nightlight. “She’s so good, you’ve really raised a beautiful little girl, Yoongi-ssi.”And Yoongi cannot stop his heart thrum against the walls of his chest, how his cheeks heat and tint rosy, and, mirroring Jimin’s own, how his lips tug into a soft smile. Jimin turns to him and pulls the door slightly closed, ajar just enough in case she needs them, but not before Yoongi gently brushes her cheek and places a delicate kiss on her head, whispering a quiet ‘I love you’. It’s perhaps this that leaves Jimin’s heart to thrum, body ablaze at an alpha’s distilled devotion. Never one born before and from Yoongi, somehow it leaves Jimin’s omega to yearn for little else.“Yoongi-ssi,” Jimin begins as he notices his now-full glass, prompting puffs of laughter to string between them, Yoongi’s shoulders rising in a little shrug as he leads Jimin to the living room.“It’s Thursday— almost Friday, we’ve both had long days so who can blame me?”There’s a comfort in their loneliness, one that their chests both house and hearts ache to fill, and as they find their rest against the sofa, it feels as right as snow falling in the depths of winter— as right as the sea gently lapping at sandy shores and glimmering under the midday sun, leaving eyes to squint and teeth to bare in wide smiles as bodies lie golden. And as Yoongi’s lips stretch into his own, Jimin thinks he has never quite fallen as hard for a man this quickly; perhaps a feeling born by nothing more than fate.“You’re good with her,” Yoongi says, fingers flexing as they ache to touch— to caress Jimin’s soft cheeks, hold his face in the cup of his broad palm. “Better than I ever could be.” Yet the words prompt a small pout from Jimin, plump lips protruding and all Yoongi wishes for is to kiss them until they’re tender, crimson and swollen and saliva slickened. Maybe he’d taste as sweet as he looks, hair tousled and cheeks still rosy, wine now beginning to course his veins to leave his skin that little more heated.“Don’t put yourself down,” Jimin quietly protests, rolling the frayed seams of the sleeves of his jumper between the pads of his fingers. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone love their little pup so much. You’d sacrifice everything for her, I know you would. You’re a great dad, Yoongi-ssi—”“Hyung, call me hyung.”Jimin smiles, cheeks still dusted with a rose bloom as his eyes flit to the man before him, a vision of everything he could ever ask for; an alpha so wholly safe and protective, warm and gentle, never the kind to posture or flaunt his worth. “She loves you. You know, she never stops talking about you in class. She does little drawings of her appa with little hearts around them and kisses each one.”Yoongi’s laughter falls softly, a gentle timbre that shrouds Jimin in comfort— a sense of belonging. Perhaps it’s all he’s never held, an omega far too hopeful for someone to love him and yet all he found himself swept up in were those wishing for nothing more than quick release against someone so willing— so doting. “She’s my little miracle. My ex-wife and I divorced when she was quite young so thankfully she doesn’t know much different.”“I’m so sorry, it must be difficult.” To Yoongi, these words are what seems to heal such a wounded heart, one carrying the weight of all that he knows far exceeds it, yet he still tries, even if it dares to break him.“It is, but we foolishly knew it was coming sooner or later. She was just as headstrong as I can be, and whilst some alphas are compatible, I guess we just weren’t. She wanted to move away to found a company without the tie of motherhood and relationships, whereas I selfishly wanted something more traditional; a little family to raise our pup. She didn’t want that, not like this.” Yoongi sips his wine, eyes faltering to Jimin’s fingers that are tentative against his thigh, soothing circles as his eyes prick with that bittersweet salted heat of tears. “I could get help taking care of Yuri-yah— I know I could— but I want to be the one to tuck her in at night and pick her up from school, and I know it’s probably a ridiculous thought but my alpha… I just want that—”“It isn’t, hyung. You deserve to experience those things with her. It shouldn’t be any different because you’re divorced or you’re successful in your work— none of that matters.”Yoongi sighs, letting his eyes turn to Jimin’s own that rest fondly against him, lips tugged up into a tender smile and body hunched that little closer.“It’s been four years now and I sometimes wonder if it’s time to try again. For Yuri-yah, for me— it gets so lonely.” Yoongi’s voice tumbles to a whisper now, something vulnerable— raw yet alpha-rich— and oh, how it leaves Jimin’s heart to thrum.So Jimin hums, a low reverberation that leaves Yoongi wanting more. Akin to the warmth of a purr, an omegan sound he’s ached to still within. He wants to hold Jimin’s fingers between his own and toy with the soft pads, feeling the smooth skin beneath his own tainted with callouses. He wants to let him lie against him, lips pressed to the crown of his head as they succumb to the sweetest slumber, all that he’s yearned for yet never quite held within his grasp. But with Jimin, something seems to tug within that spells it’s could never be more right, and with Jimin, Yoongi begins to see those gilded strands of hope glimmer ahead.“But you do a good job, loving Yuri so much and balancing your work.”Silence stills for a while, neither daring to tear their shy gazes from the other, and as Jimin turns to take a sip of his wine, he feels heat creep against his spine at Yoongi’s feathered touch against his hand.“Are you not lonely?” Yoongi asks, his eyes spelling all that Jimin knows as question, those born from hesitancy and feelings laid bare.Jimin nods, holding the glass against his knee as his shoulder slumps that little further into the sofa cushion, that bit closer to Yoongi. “My days are my favourite,” he confesses as his smile begins to bloom, albeit bittersweet. “I get to spend them with twenty little pups. They never leave a dull moment in the classroom— always so bright and happy. I get to watch their little smiles, see them grow, and teach them all they need. But at night when I’m alone, it’s difficult. There’s no one to come home to, just me and my thoughts.”Yoongi gives in, fingers lightly grazing Jimin’s own as his hold slightly tightens, hands woven beside each other now in tender comfort. So Yoongi draws in a sharp inhale, “Yuri keeps drawing us together,” And he isn’t quite sure why the words fall, but they feel as natural as the very oxygen that shrouds them, and it prompts Jimin’s lips to tug into a small smile, eyes to crinkle and a puff of laughter to part his teeth. Jimin doesn’t miss Yoongi’s scent thickening, a gentle sweetness born from the crackle of marshmallows against open flames and raindrops on honeysuckles.“She does in class too. She wants to see her appa happy.”Yoongi inhales sharply, eyes briefly closing as his hold firms. His lungs burn with heat, warmth from the air and the faint scent of linen, ripe peaches and honeyed tuberose.“I think her seonsaengnim could make her appa happy.” Yoongi’s voice is whispered, tentative, and it takes all that resides within Jimin not to place a gentle kiss against his rose-bitten lips, slightly parted with eyes laced with caution.“I think,” Jimin begins through a tender smile, “ her appa could also make her seonsaengnim happy.” Yet Jimin hesitates, the pads of his fingers tapping against his clothed thigh before a soft sigh falls and his eyes string something most despondent to Yoongi’s gaze. “You know I’m an omega, don’t you?”“I do.” Yoongi says, perhaps a little hastily but it eases Jimin’s nerves all the same. “And I don’t mind. Your scent is sweet— faint, but sweet. I wish you didn’t have to hide it.” Yoongi’s hand draws up before he quickly retracts it, mindless movements to reach to graze his touch over Jimin’s soft skin.“ I can take these off, it’s just they’re required for the classroom, so their little noses don’t get too overwhelmed with so many scents—”“I’d like that.”Jimin makes quick work of peeling off the patches with reddened cheeks, little whimpers falling from their tug at his skin leaving red marks and tender glands, but as they unearth, Yoongi finds himself shrouded in all that he’s come to adore. He feels giddy, the saccharine scent tinting his cheeks red and prompting his skin to dimple, mind to cloud in a cloying haze yet it never feels too much, such as the gentle hum of honey in warm tea— golden syrup that clings to the back of throats as toffee lingers at the tip of tongues. As sweet flowers laced with linen, freshly bloomed petals and their youthful buds, something most soft and delicate in all of its purity.“Please forgive me for not courting you properly. I should— I should court you…” Yoongi’s words falter as Jimin simply shakes his head, eyes ever-fond as they begin to trace all of what comprises the alpha. How his cheeks are wide and lips small, eyes sharp yet skin ivory-soft, a striking contrast to the dark strands that barely graze his nape. Divine, Jimin thinks, and to be the one stilling before a man most would swoon for, leaves his heart aflame.“I don’t mind at all, I’m not really one for tradition.”“You’ll— you’ll stay tonight, won’t you? It’s late, you’ve had wine and… you look tired.”Jimin hums, lips pulled taut in a lazy smile as he rests his head on the top of the sofa’s cushion, velveteen fabric brushing his cheek with each soft movement.“You make another convincing argument, hyung.” He muses, letting Yoongi toy with his fingers, running rough pads over his skin in a soothing yet searing touch. It prompts Yoongi to smile, wide and gum-laced with the haze of slumber and bone-deep fatigue, and it’s one that sticks words to Jimin’s tongue as he all but melts at the sight of such an alpha before him. “I will, if it’s no trouble,” is all Jimin manages, yet he doesn’t miss how Yoongi’s eyes flit to his neck with seemingly every breath, tracing the lines of his throat as his posture leaves it exposed in submission.“C-can I maybe—” The words stutter and find their falter within Yoongi’s throat, but as Jimin’s hands tug his wrists closer, prompting Yoongi to lean forward, it’s all the confirmation he needs.“I’d like you to. Here,” He brushes one side of his neck slowly. “They get a little swollen from the patches when they’re on for a long time.”Jimin shuffles closer, his breath slitting as Yoongi leans and his nose lightly grazes his scent glands. The touch is feather-soft, barely there and Yoongi’s breath puffs heated stammers against the side of Jimin’s throat. His hands turn a little daring now, such a gentle touch never quite enough, so Yoongi lets his fingers settle against Jimin’s shoulders and the top of his spine, and as Yoongi presses that little harder, a small exhale falls. It feels intimate, perhaps more so than any other scenting born prior, each touch delicate and featherlight, Yoongi’s careful movements that lace with hesitancy and distilled deprivation. Jimin isn’t quite sure whose heart stammers against his chest or whether both find a steady rhythm beside each other, one of want and longing— one that bridges two lonely souls to find their rest entwined together; delicate, fragile, taking cautionary steps. But it’s sweet, warm and wholly right, and so, Jimin’s eyes flutter closed as Yoongi inhales all that he is, scent blooming so sweetly as the alpha commands his every breath.Yoongi pulls back after a moment, his cheeks flushed as his eyes glazed. His face now lies a hair’s breadth away from Jimin’s own, and now, as he lets the pads of his fingers trail frail lines down Jimin’s soft cheek, resting where his jaw meets his scalp at the delicate skin behind his ear, a question seems leaden against Yoongi’s tongue.“Can I kiss you?” He gingerly asks, and Jimin’s quick to nod, lips parting in quiet affirmation and as heat courses his veins— sparking beneath Yoongi’s every touch— his breath hitches in his throat.Yoongi wastes little time, perhaps haste born from what confidence will surely wane should he dwell on each moment. So, he leans in, closing the slight distance that shrouds their frames and presses his lips to Jimin’s; soft and delicate, as if a hushed whisper strings between them, one born out of apprehension. Yet as their lips move, gentle and languid, Yoongi cranes his head to deepen it slightly— a hair’s difference but leaves Jimin to gasp, nonetheless. His fingers draw light patterns against Jimin’s skin, one hand still residing at his jaw whilst the other entangles with Jimin’s own, and as their lungs begin to burn with the bittersweet choke of breathlessness, they dare to briefly part. As the night draws on— the moon resting that little higher against the sky— Jimin finds himself tucked against Yoongi’s frame, firmly placed between his legs as their chests rise and fall in a gentle rhythm. Yoongi’s fingers card through his hair, nails lightly grazing his scalp prompting soft sighs to tumble, and each time Yoongi’s lips press to his skin, his heart flutters against the walls of his chest.“I hope I can make you happy, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi mumbles, words falling in a low drawl and Jimin can’t quite help his cheeks tug into a small smile at the informality, and now, how Yoongi’s chest vibrates with something akin to a soft rumble in distilled contentment.“You will— you both will, I just hope I can make you both happy, also.”Yoongi swallows thickly, fingers still lightly trailing Jimin’s scalp before he presses a delicate kiss to his temple. “You already have, Jimin-ah. Tomorrow I’ll make it up to you properly, I promise.”“How? You don’t need to, hyung.” Jimin giggles, a slight purr tugging at his throat as his eyes flutter closed as fatigue now prevails.“I’ll take you to dinner. My parents can have Yuri-yah for the evening, they always say how much they love her staying over — they spoil her too much.”Jimin hums, cheek buried in the juncture of Yoongi’s neck as their fingers gently toy together on his stomach. It’s serene, a peace with another that Jimin has so often longed for through solemn nights and early mornings; someone to hold him when it all seems that little bit too much to bear alone.But Jimin giggles, something most soft and gentle as purrs begin to thicken. “That seems an awful lot like a date, hyung.”Yoongi trails his hand down Jimin’s cheek, fingers in a tender brush before he lightly grazes over his lips in a fleeting touch. It is perhaps too intimate, yet two lonely souls meet in a euphoric haze, one to which hope and promises are tentatively strung. It is as if they are a supernova, born from the stellar collision of two stars reaching their finality, each touch sparking divine of magenta and gilded crimson that dares to stain their cheeks. Those ivory-tinged refractions bear a sweet glimmer woven through their eyes and so, as Yoongi leans closer— lips right to Jimin’s lobe— he whispers all that leaves hearts to entwine.“It is.”“Then I’d love for you to make it up to me.”It’s all that Yoongi has ever wished for, on shooting stars and those that fall. He has wished for someone to see their family as one with two individuals, Yuri as his entirety, yet Yoongi holding a place of his own. Their love could never be divided and it ought not to, and as Jimin’s face softens as Yoongi draws little circles with the pads of his fingers, just beside his scent gland, Yoongi knows that Jimin is all he has been after; he’s certain.“Can I scent you again?” Yoongi asks that little bolder now, no longer bound by hesitation’s callused hand.“You never need to ask.” Jimin’s reply is saccharine and what kisses he places on Yoongi’s knuckles as he brings their entwined hands to his lips are perhaps even more so.“You’re so sweet.”And so, he shuffles, turning to haul himself against Yoongi and placing his knees on either side of his thighs, sitting on his lap with legs sinking in cushioned fabric. Arms wrap around Yoongi’s neck as he draws their heads closer, lips grazing Jimin’s own in a slow, languid kiss before he trails further, leaving little more than heated puffs of breath that graze his neck, prompting dimples to bloom in their wake.“However long you need, hyung.” Jimin lets his fingers tug at the hair at Yoongi’s nape, woven into the soft strands right at his scalp. “You don’t do this often, do you?” Jimin hears a quiet ‘no’, to which he finds a quiet hum stick in his throat, tumbling down into a soothing purr that lies ever-thickly in assurance. It prompts Yoongi to press his nose against his scent gland before gentle kitten licks leave sighs to fall and eyes to flutter closed. He does little else than that, nose and lips against his skin to simply feel Jimin in his entirety, to have his scent shroud him like the tender weight of a blanket, soft and delicate, encasing the warmth of spring gardens and tea laced with honey.“S-sorry.” Yoongi pulls back, yet Jimin’s palms keep his distance short.“Why are you apologising?” Jimin whispers, hands finding the heated rounds of Yoongi’s cheeks as thumbs turn to soothe. “Don’t apologise.”“Is this okay?”“More than. Are you alright?”Yoongi manages a hum, his nose tucked within Jimin’s chest and his arms tightly wrapped around his waist, and as Jimin’s purrs calm apprehension, all that falls are soft puffs of breath. His chest rises slower now and his eyes flutter against delicate skin, and as Jimin watches Yoongi teeter on the edge of slumber, he places a kiss on his head and gently pries himself off of him.“Hyung, let’s sleep, yeah?” He giggles, watching Yoongi’s eyes fight to open.“Shit— yeah, I didn’t mean to—”Jimin tucks fallen strands behind his ears, lightly caressing his cheek before withdrawing his touch. “Let me get you to bed.”“No, it’s alright. Stay with me, please?” The words fall a hushed question, as if any louder would cause reality to settle and for his plea to feel that little more lonesome— aching. It prompts Jimin’s eyes to widen, confusion in fine lines against his face as his brows raise and lips so gently part.“What do you mean?” He tentatively asks, his breath equally as quiet as Yoongi’s own. “Sleep beside me. I can’t be lonely anymore. Y-you don’t have to, you can just stay here and I’ll—”Jimin watches as his eyes prick with tears, ones he blinks once, twice, three times to their eventual cascade, yet he leans forward and captures Yoongi’s lips with his own in a silent assurance that he will stay beside him. No longer will nights be lonely, no longer will hearts ache for the presence of a love so tender, and no longer will either wish with tears heating their cheeks for someone to find them and love them wholly.“You won’t be, not now. I promise.” Jimin parts just enough for his lips to move yet they graze Yoongi’s with every syllable, almost-kisses pressing vows against his tongue, swallowed to reside in his veins as a constant reminder that neither he nor Yuri will find themselves alone ever again.As Jimin’s small hands wrap around Yoongi’s wrist to aid his ascent, they find themselves clad in nothing more than boxers and tucked beneath thick sheets, limbs tangled in a hazy comfort. Yoongi’s frame all but engulfs Jimin’s own, much broader— much sturdier— and as he pulls him closer, he buries his face in the crook of his neck and simply breathes. He is warmth, safety, the crackle of an open flame in winter blooming coffee-laden mornings that little brighter. He is the spark of bonfires with toffee-sticky teeth, jaws aching from wide laughter and eyes soft crescents. He is the soft trickle in the beginnings of winter, feet beneath cozy blankets lined with fleece as the pelt of the rain dissipates, leaving little more than slight drizzle and droplets to chase the wind against the window panes.However, whilst both hold the gentle flicker of hope in the walls of their chests, perhaps no one could ever be quite as happy as Yuri to know her father’s heart may heal its wounds, and it is why through sleep-laced words and quiet hums, they decide to wait and simply see where their hearts lead them. They want certainty and stability in Yuri’s little life to carry through until she, too, finds those of her own, yet both are silently sure that this is all they have been after— all that despondent nights longing and aching hearts have led them to.As eyes drift, Yoongi’s fingers innocently wander along Jimin’s spine, simply feeling the touch of bare skin beneath the pads of his fingers. He’s warm, soft, and Yoongi can’t quite remember the last time he had held someone so delicately, kissed someone so tenderly, and he wonders if the hole that loneliness finds its rest within may begin to slowly heal. And so, slumber takes them both as dreams lie sweetly, bodies tangle in an innocent lace and now, what strings before them seems to lie that little more golden as hope finally prevails.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
There’s perhaps little more Jimin loves than working with the pups, each day one that bit brighter as they begin to bloom before his eyes. Lunchtimes are those filled with laughter, little squeals as games are played and giggles tumbling from their tongues, and whilst Yuri usually plays with those she’s closest with, Jimin can’t quite help but notice her linger beside him as she eats her kimbap. She’s apprehensive, her cheeks doughy and her heels clicking, little hums falling before she takes a deep inhale.“Seonsaengnim,” she begins, eyes wide and lips pouted, words falling from a lisped tongue; a vision of Yoongi, Jimin thinks. “Appa said he’s having a date. What’s a date?”He can’t bite down what flushes his cheeks crimson, balling beneath the weight of his giddy smile as eyes glimmer beneath the sliver of sun that manages to peek through what autumn bleeds. The weather is turning, just that little more grey, leaving little time for the pups to feel soft blades of grass beneath their soles.“Ah, Yuri-yah, did your appa tell you or did you maybe hear something you shouldn’t have?” Each word falls petal-soft, never condescending, simply assuring, and as Yuri giggles before him with heels still clicking together from where she sits, Jimin knows his intuition is right. From sleep-hazed conversations prior to a little pup stumbling into what her father tries to mask, Jimin wonders what life may lead if they find their place together, and perhaps— in a distant yet sobering thought— would Yuri accept him?She leans in, prompting Jimin to lower his head to meet her, her little hand cupping his ear as words tumble in whispered laughter. “He was talking to halmoni.”Jimin can’t bite down his smile, a cough to clear his throat and mar all that aches to fall. Laughter lines his tongue yet he doesn’t let it falter, for now, he swallows honey-laden words born from gilded conversations with the very alpha who, maybe a little prematurely, seems to so tenderly hold his heart.“A date is when two people get to know each other. They do something fun, like have dinner, go on a picnic—” Jimin explains, only to be cut off by a mumbled realisation.“Did you and appa go on a date last night?” She asks, little eyebrows raised as cheeks turn doughy, rice lining her tongue. He flushes, a stammer falling and smile ever-growing, and whilst he knows perhaps she can’t quite understand what may find its tentative bloom between them, she’s achingly close to its reveal. She’s a smart little pup, certainly born from her father’s hand and mirrors him in every way, it seems. She’s bright, sweet and warm, knowing far too much for what a little girl should, and so, as Jimin’s cheeks burn crimson, he shakes his head.“I— I don’t think so.” It’s not quite a lie yet conceals all that Jimin vows never to let fall, but he knows they have to be cautious, that courting with a child leaves worry to settle at every turn, such a fragile thing should it go awry.“But— but I saw him kiss you. This morning.” Each word falls giggle-lined, a wide, gummy smile tugging at her cheeks, and Jimin never quite realised just how much she resembled her father, but now— he thinks— she perhaps couldn’t be any closer. So cheeks burn ablaze, brighter as his mind casts to the morning; how Yoongi’s hands held him close, a palm at his waist as another cupped his jaw, kisses seemingly so right as they left scents to entwine. The scent of home left Jimin to falter in Yoongi’s arms, thoughts never to what little eyes could pry behind a corner, yet now he wonders just what to say, steps never ventured before.“Oh… you did?” Jimin’s voice wavers, cheeks ever-blooming beneath her fond gaze, and as she nods, a small noise follows, her father’s kimbap leaving her legs to swing just that bit more.“Yummy!” She lets fall, muffled by seasoned rice and tuna. Her eyes crinkle in that same way, her cheeks, too, house crimson, and somehow, Jimin can’t halt his smile. But she meets Jimin’s gaze once more, a little confused now with eyes crinkled and her little nose scrunched. “Appa says if— if you love someone, you kiss them. He says he kisses me because he loves me. Do you love appa, seonsaengnim?”“Yu— Yuri-yah,” Jimin begins, his inhale all but piercing his lungs as any attempt to halt a stammering heart lies futile. “It’s a little hard to explain.” Yet her pout halts what words wish to find their fall, ones lining his lips in a bittersweet lie, and as her eyes turn that little pleading— tear-stained— his, too, soften.“Please love appa… he only smiles with you.”Jimin sighs, long and drawn-out, and as his lips pull taut into a thin-lipped smile, he can’t bite down what fizzles on his tongue. It’s perhaps all he wishes for— to fall for the gentle alpha, a man he’s always longed for— yet as the first steps are tentatively walked, both know it’s something that could never be rushed, never with Yuri beside them. He’s a constant within her life at school and should that spill over and find its abrupt halt, both know she perhaps could never bear it. She wants nothing more than to see her father so ardently happy and to see her teacher smile leaves one to tug at her cheeks, yet Jimin never knows what she mumbles to Kkul before she sleeps each night— how she wishes for her family to be whole and for her teacher to be the man beside her father.“Did you like your kimbap, Yuri-yah?” Jimin asks, gently smoothing down her hair as it messes from what wind tints their cheeks crimson and noses rosy.“It was yummy! Appa makes yummy food, you do too!” She giggles, little heels clicking together, leather shoes sticking with each small movement.“And you’re going to see your halmoni and halaboji tonight, aren’t you?” And what sweet laughter never quite finds its halt, leaves Jimin’s own cheeks to ache, for the little girl before him blooms unbridled joy, something so sweet and distilled.“Yes! Appa says I’m having a sleepover. I like sleepovers. Halaboji reads to me in his chair!” And— and— and we pick the apples!” She stammers, breath falling just that bit more shallow as excitement takes hold.“You’ll be a good girl, won’t you?” Jimin can’t quite bite down what fondness lines his voice, watching Yuri’s eyes glimmer as she nods, hasty little movements leaving Jimin’s own tongue to part with a giggle.“Yes! I always am, seonsaengnim.” She says matter-of-factly, a small noise of emphasis clinging to her throat. It’s a little huff, something most gilded and sweet, but a gasp parts what tentative solace shrouds them, the shrill sound leaving Jimin’s heart to drop; such as a leaden weight, an anchor pushed overboard, and all Jimin can do is mumble a gentle ‘what’s wrong?’. She shakes her head, little eyes welling with what tears threaten their tumble, and whilst perhaps she doesn’t quite understand the gravity of what words line her tongue, they fall without much in the way to halt them. “Who— who is appa having a date with?” She asks, eyes pleading, and at the quirk of his lip, perhaps it soothes her just that little.“Maybe you should ask him when he picks you up, Yuri-yah.”She shakes her head once more, lips protruding and nose crinkling, heels now kicking the underside of the small chair she sits against. “I don’t want appa to go. Only you.” Her voice is small— impossibly so— and Jimin knows that perhaps others her age may never quite understand, but she certainly holds what brightness her father holds in spades.Jimin’s sigh draws from his throat, the kind to leave lungs all but lifeless, thick and still within what syrup-lined tension shrouds them, and as he gently ushers Yuri back into the classroom as lunch signals its end, he wonders just how he could fit in their lives— whether he can carve a little place for himself tucked beside them, or whether such dream is simply one never to be grasped in his tender palm. — Yoongi is late as usual yet Jimin could never mind, gentle as he bounces Yuri on his knee as they read together, voice distilled and gentle, raising in emphasis leaving little giggles to line her tongue. The beanbag tucked in the corner spells endless nights, ones with Yuri curled up with snores parting her lips, and apologies all but halted as they threaten to fall from Yoongi’s lips and tonight is no different, Yoongi certainly late with crimson-laced eyes and livid blooming beneath them. Part of Jimin wonders whether to call it off, to let Yoongi rest with Yuri away for a night, simply letting the week wash over the alpha’s frame akin to the gentle lap of waves against salt-lined shores to shroud him in tender solace, but as Yoongi walks that bit closer, a petal-soft smile tugs at his cheeks— serenity.“Sorry,” he begins, eyes softening as Jimin can’t quite bite down what smile takes shape, cheeks aches and eyes little more than crescents, and perhaps Yoongi finds himself impossibly smitten. “I said I’d be here at four… sorry. I— I couldn’t get away earlier.”“It’s only half-past, hyung. You’re really not late, you’re lucky she likes her afternoon naps.” Jimin giggles, and to Yoongi, it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever borne witness to, lining his tongue in syruped honey, something most cloying and heady; certainly divine.“Appa?” A little voice begins, sleep-laced and fatigued, but perhaps more pressing matters line her thoughts as her father walks over, arms out-stretched to pick his sweet pup up into his broad arms. “Who… um… who are you going on a— d…” Her eyes turn to Jimin, a pleading glance for assistance.“A date.” Jimin’s voice is gentle, his own gaze undaring to turn to Yoongi’s for now.“A date with?” She finishes, nuzzling into Yoongi’s shoulder, little nose brushing his neck.Confusion settles, lined with subtle tension yet never harsh, and as he turns to Jimin he mouths a small apology, one met with the shake of Yoongi’s head and smile ever-growing.“Did you hear something that you shouldn’t have, angel? Did you hear me speak to your halmoni this morning?” Yoongi asks, brushing back what thin strands of hair clings to her cheeks, sleep-toulsed and mussed.“No.” She affirms, shaking her head, yet as Jimin gently nods his own, Yoongi can’t quite hold back what laughter falls from his tongue.“It’s all she’s talked to me about today. She wanted to know what it meant and who it was with.” Jimin’s interjection never bears a demand, simply lined with a fondness that neither could ever shake. What shrouds them is tentative adoration, the promise to try, for what little family may form from their ever-tender hands is perhaps all they could ever wish for.“Ah, we’ll talk about it tomorrow, alright, angel? When you come home we’ll have a conversation.”“Con… conversation…” She repeats, a little uncertain and drawled, so sweetly lisped and all that blooms rose against Jimin’s cheeks.“Good girl. We’ll talk about it, but tonight appa needs to make sure, yeah? This is important.” Yoongi continues, pressing a feather-light kiss to his daughter’s scalp. “But I really don’t think I need to be sure,” These words fall more for Jimin’s ears, grazing his lobes in those tender strands of hope. “I think I already am. I think I’m certain.”Jimin’s cheeks redden beneath his gentle gaze, yet he can’t quite rid of what Yuri had divulged earlier— that she had seen Yoongi kiss him, an act spur of the moment, perhaps that little too intimate and a domesticity that neither should indulge in.“I think she saw something this morning, hyung.” He begins, words softer now, born from the faintest whisper, cotton-lined such as what leaves dandelions to tumble as spring begins to bear its teeth. “In— in the kitchen before I left.”“Oh.” Yoongi’s tongue feels that little more leaden and perhaps he hasn’t been as cautious as he had thought. Should what they so tentatively weave from their timid hands fall, he knows he could never forgive himself for hurting his entirety. “Angel, let's get you home, yeah? You can show me what you want to pack.”A small ‘no’ falls, fatigued and defiant, and as Yoongi’s face falls just that little, Jimin replies.“Why not, Yuri-yah? Aren’t you excited about your sleepover?”“I want seonsaengnim to come.” She says, voice barely above a whisper as her lips graze the collar of Yoongi’s shirt.“Ah, maybe your—” Jimin’s voice finds its falter as Yoongi interjects, that hope never quite leaving its place thread through his eyes.“Okay,” Yoongi simply replies, eyes that little softer against Jimin’s frame. “Well it— it would be easier, wouldn’t it?” It falls that bit more hushed as if never to let Yuri wonder about their stance.“My clothes…”“The reservation isn’t until seven so I can take you back to yours if you’d like,” Yoongi begins, his voice still whispered, leaving a smile to tug at Jimin’s cheeks. “Or we can stop there and you get ready at mine.” And as Jimin nods, Yoongi’s nose is barely grazed by what sweetness turns, Jimin’s scent all but masked yet one fighting for its place— one shrouding the alpha in those first strands of adoration.“We— we can do that. I’ll go to mine and get my clothes and then… then I’ll come over.” Yet Jimin’s words waver, and perhaps Yoongi mistakes it for subtle hesitancy that he can’t quite swallow.“Or not. It’s okay if not, don’t feel pressured.”“No, I want to. Thank you.” But it’s shyness that prevails, watching as Yoongi gently sways to rock his little girl.Yoongi is certain he could reside within Jimin’s smile, shy and demure, sweetly tugged edges baring crooked, blush-tinted cheeks aching rounds beneath its growing weight.Yuri huffs, warmth against her father’s cheek as she draws back, mind satiated shrouded by the comfort of Yoongi’s scent. “I wan’ seonsaengnim to see my bears.” Her voice is wobbly now, a soft sleep-woven thing, perhaps having scented her father that little more than she should, dipping her back into what repose she so delicately walks the border of.“I’m sure he’d love to see them, sweetheart.” Yoongi’s smile mirrors what Jimin’s lips bear, and if Yuri wasn’t tucked firmly within his arms, he’d reach over, let his fingers feather along his jaw before finding rest beneath his chin, the slightest of tilts before lips press together. Entwined scents would shroud them, Yoongi thinks, the warmth of wood sugar-lined and tuberose honey-tinted, and as his gaze lingers just that little, Jimin’s cheeks redden, flush pricking his nape in delicate heat. Jimin leaves, not before taking Yuri’s small backpack to Yoongi’s car, shy glances stolen as Yuri’s eyes turn heavy-lidded, and as Yoongi’s fingers graze Jimin’s arm, both find their hearts thrum against what walls confine them. Yoongi settles in the car, ensuring Yuri’s placed firmly in her car seat with Kkul tucked within her grasp, and as he turns to her, he sees a small pout line her lips.“What’s wrong, angel?” He asks, his voice a soothing croon. “Tired? You can sleep if you want.”“Seonsaengnim isn’t here.” Yuri mumbles, her whine a drawl as she sniffles yet no tears find their fall down sweet doughy cheeks, for it’s born from little else than fatigue, something that seems ever-present as days grow colder.Yoongi’s laughter is soft, gentle puffs of heat as he fights what blush lines his cheeks, one crimson-dusted and ever-fond. “He’ll come, angel. He needs to get some clothes, alright?”She gasps, long out drawn-out as if realisation has finally settled, and that perhaps, her father may find someone who makes days that little brighter. Maybe, she dares to wonder, if her tender hopes may finally fall to fruition. To see her father smile once more is all that she yearns for, a little pup’s gaze so innocent as it lies on the very man who blooms life within her father’s veins. To see Jimin beside him, her teacher who she so ardently loves, solely leaving Yoongi’s cheeks to tug bears all that lies warm within her, and whilst she may be too little to fully grasp it, somehow, she knows. “Is— is he going on a… a date?”“Maybe.” Yoongi’s laughter falls gently as he watches his pup’s eyes widen in the rearview mirror, little lips parting in wonder as she kicks her feet.“Appa, you kissed him,” She whispers through what giggle tumbles, breaking each word in that petal-soft way. “You kiss people you love. You told me that. Do you love seonsaengnim?” And perhaps love is a concept she could never quite grasp in her tender palms, but Yoongi wonders just if his own heart begins to; could it ever be so wrong to do so and finally let himself sink into all that he’s fought for so long?“Yuri-yah,” Yoongi’s sigh falls hesitant, undaring for what thoughts that line his tongue may find their fall. “Maybe not yet, but… I think I might do one day.”And so, as giggles never waver, Yoongi drives what familiar path spells home, but now, as their date looms ahead, it’s these well-versed streets that leave his heart to flutter that little more in tender excitement for what strings ahead. He hopes that Jimin, too, bears this same giddiness, one born from promise and guards finally finding their falter. It takes Jimin little time to get to Yoongi’s apartment, not too far despite living past iron gates. Yet as he arrives, he’s greeted with a little smile as Yuri runs up into his arms with giggle-laced greetings tumbling from her tongue. He can’t help but to pick her up, a little twirl as his heart blooms, wondering just how she could feel so perfect in his hold. Maybe it’ll work, he distantly thinks, and thoughts dare to lie to spell that despite gentle apprehension from both Yoongi and himself, whether he truly does have a place beside the alpha and his sweet pup.She nuzzles in, what scent blockers that are required now peeled off, his scent shrouding her in comfort and serenity, and perhaps just that little nicer than her father’s, although she’d never dare to let it fall. An omega’s scent bleeding something most tender, what her father's commands in protection, Jimin’s seems to bear little else than warmth. It’s an unbridled sanctuary she just can’t quite voice, but she wants nothing more than to succumb to it— still within all that engulfs her. So, at each chance, she finds herself yearning to sink into Jimin’s hold, to press her little nose to his neck and bear the sweetest purrs right against her tongue. Jimin’s own are rife, those that leave her body pliant, apprehension now faltering, for she’s swept up in such a tender repose.“H-hi,” Yoongi begins, a flush tinting his cheeks as he stands beside the door, eyes trained on Jimin’s firm hold of his daughter, and it’s a sight that spurs his alpha’s to wish to claim— that there will never be another who could tend to her as delicately— but he knows that’s perhaps that little too far in the distant future, so for now, he lets a smile tug at his lips in that ever-bashful way. “You… you look nice.” He says, and despite Jimin’s attire never changing from his workday, he mouths a small ‘thank you’, his omega simply preening at the alpha’s words. It’s something sweet, a divine praise that seems to shroud Jimin in warmth.“I might have to shower here if— if that’s alright…” Jimin walks that little further into the apartment heeding Yoongi’s lead, Yuri settled in his hold yet small giggles find their feet, a babbling tongue at all of her excitement to see her grandparents. They’ll make kimchi, she mumbles against his neck— halmoni always makes kimchi— and Jimin simply smiles.Yoongi nods, boiling a kettle for tea to line their tongues, the evening not quite having found its feet, and Jimin knows just how Yoongi took time off his schedule to leave early— for their date to take priority. He’s an alpha who leaves him woven in little more than pure devotion, the kind for hearts to take precedence over what leaves days busy, and Jimin’s omega could never feel as wanted. For those in his past seemed to discard him, none ready to settle, far too immature and bodies only aching for reprieve. But Jimin could never wish for a life like that, instead, he wants nothing more than to hold a pup in his arms as an alpha leaves him breathless, knowing that beside him, protection will never wane. And so, Jimin silently preens at Yoongi’s gaze, the kind strung from silk and ever-soft. It’s wanting but sweetly so, commanding and alpha-laden, protecting of what he calls his own and perhaps, Jimin begins to wonder, what may be very soon. Yet something tugs within that spells just if Yoongi could ever love an omega such as he; an omega far younger with little to his name.“It’s fine.” Yoongi hums as he keeps a close eye on Yuri, always one to wriggle, Jimin has learned. “You— you took off your scent blockers.”Jimin’s laughter is divine, all that Yoongi could reside in, he thinks, and as their eyes meet in a fond gaze, his quickly avert in shyness, placing teabags in porcelain mugs.“I thought a certain alpha might like that— his little one too.” It falls cotton-soft, a slight giggle woven through as Yuri’s little nose presses against him and delicate sighs fall, calming her much faster than Yoongi could ever believe, and for a moment he can’t quite tear his eyes from them, watching as his daughter simply stills in his grasp.Fate.He’s quite certain of it, and whilst he knows it’s that little premature, his alpha has never felt so content with all those he’s ever dared to date in the past, yet with Jimin it all feels impossibly perfect, and Yuri taking to him so sweetly spells all he could ever wish for. But his cheeks redden and a stammer lines his tongue, a slight bashful yet strained laugh tumbling and leaving Yuri to draw back with a small pout tugging at her lips.“Appa, what’s wrong?” She asks, Jimin turning slightly for her to look at her father. He bears something most shy— what he rarely displays— and Jimin simply giggles at the sight, the very man he’s quickly taking to seemingly smitten by such a small action. Yet he knows his alpha is calm, scent thick and wood-rich around him, slightly sweet and delectable, signalling he’s truly happy, that watching Jimin with his entirety could never leave worry to settle.“I think he’s a little bit shy, Yuri-yah.” Jimin’s whisper falls light, perhaps that bit too loud prompting Yoongi’s head to bow further, a gummy smile lining his cheeks, and it’s a sight Jimin knows he’ll house within his mind when nights fall that little lonesome— when the warmth of another simply never comes and his nest feels all but sterile as he aches for the alpha to hold him.“Why are you shy? Appa— why are you—”“You ask too many questions, Yuri-yah.” Yoongi shakes his head, smile unfaltering. “I… I think she wanted to um… to show you her teddy bears.” He stammers and as Jimin tenderly laughs, it shrouds them in distilled warmth.Jimin steps closer, Yuri’s soft whines against his neck but he can’t quite tear his gaze from the alpha, a slight purr tumbling past his sweet petal lips. “But you’ll miss it, hyung. Want to show me your bears, Yuri-yah? I’d love to see them. We could pack too, hm? Or did your appa already help you?”“N-no— if you could then… thank you.” Yoongi’s words fall a little breathless, eyes unable to part from Jimin’s own, and he perhaps knows it looks that little lovesick— enamoured with a man he just barely knows— but he spells nothing but kindness, the perfect omega to stand beside him, that he’s certain.“Shall we go then, Yuri-yah?” Jimin smiles, drawing a hand to lightly comb through her hair. “We’ll get ready for you to see your halmoni and halaboji.”They leave to mumbled whispers of “ why is he shy?” prompting soft laughter to find its feet, and as Jimin turns to take Yuri to her bedroom, he leaves Yoongi with a gentle promise of his return.And Yoongi knows it’s a little hasty, but his alpha spells it quite clearly to him— a voice unmistakable— that Jimin is their omega; to hold, to protect, to court and love with adoration in its purity, for no other could leave him as smitten and certainly none could fill what void had torn through their little family quite like Jimin.Yoongi takes a moment of composure, filling mugs with water and once-shallow breaths finding their reprieve, and as the door once more signals an arrival, he’s quick to answer it, his parents standing before him. They hold gentle smiles and usual greetings, his father complaining about just how difficult it is to enter Yoongi’s complex leaving his eyes to gently roll, but it’s laced with fondness, for his parents hold his heart. Yet both wonder just why their little angel isn’t greeting them, and as Yoongi details his date is helping her pack her overnight bag, his mother’s face softens, simply wishing for her son to find love once more. She knows just of his sleepless nightly and he spells his gratitude for their insistent support, but they all know Yoongi wants for nothing more than someone beside him, and Yoongi quite can’t seem to bite down the lingering tug that Jimin is simply meant to be.The little patter of feet spells Yuri’s presence, her small backpack tumbling to the marble floor as giggles cling to all that they can, unbridled joy at seeing her grandparents after weeks of absence. It has been perhaps that bit too long, Yoongi would agree, knowing that she holds no other family in her life so his parents do all that they can to simply ease the strain of fatherhood just that little. They know they could never replace what has found its departure, but Yoongi hopes that tonight may be the beginnings of rebuilding the family he had always envisioned.No one sees Jimin pick up Yuri’s backpack until Yoongi’s eyes flit to him, a smile tugging at his cheeks as he watches the omega repack and fold her clothes against a small table nestled at the edge of the hall. He nestles Kkul on top so he doesn’t get misshapen, and as his mother holds Yuri in his arms, Jimin walks over, hand outstretched with the little bag in his grasp.“It’s lovely to meet you,” She says, a sweet lilt in her timbre that Jimin all but matches, a small bow to her and Yoongi’s father who bears a smile mirrored by his son, and perhaps, they dare to believe, that this may finally be it. “You’re Jimin-ssi, aren’t you?”“I am. It’s lovely to meet you both.”“Thank you for taking her tonight, I’ll come and get her tomorrow around lunch, is that alright?” Yoongi hums, a slight pout against his lips as his eyes widen, yet fatigue is thick against his frame and part of Jimin wonders whether they should just stay inside, a tender evening against the sofa leading to soft snores and a newborn mind come morning.“Any time with our little angel is special, so whenever you want. You deserve a good night to just relax, Yoonie-yah.”Yoongi smiles, a small “thank you” tumbling as he turns back to Jimin, stepping that little closer as his hand finds rest against his spine, Jimin’s scent sweetening in response.They leave with a giggly Yuri, proudly pronouncing what book her grandfather will read to her before she sleeps, and he could never deny his sweet angel, simply agreeing, Yoongi’s palm finding its place against his father’s shoulder as laughter-lined words of “good luck” find their feet. But as they turn to the door, Yuri pulls back, a sweet kiss against her father’s cheek and a final hug, little nose tucked against his neck to breathe in all that spells home. She withdraws, her gaze that little hesitant now as she stands beside Jimin, a small hum leaving his brows to raise as he bends to meet her gaze.“Have fun, Yuri-yah. You’ll be good, won’t you?” Jimin’s voice is gentle, ever-thick and omegan; all that Yoongi dares to fall that little harder for. She nods, lips tugged between her teeth as uncertainty prevails.“Can I…” She stammers eyes wide and round and impossibly gentle, reminiscent of her father’s own, Jimin thinks. “Can I kiss you like appa?” And as these words fall so faintly, those surely woven through autumn’s most gentle breeze, Jimin stills with wide eyes.Jimin turns to Yoongi whose smile rests proud, scent shrouding him in tender comfort. He nods, perhaps all he has ever wished for standing before him, and as Jimin turns to meet Yuri’s expectant gaze once more, he draws a finger up to his cheek, silent assurance that she’s more than welcome to bid him farewell. She does, a loud smack leaving Jimin to giggle, and before she can run to the comfort of her grandparents’ hold, he holds her gently.“Be good, alright? I’m sure your appa wants to hear everything that you get up to. I’ll see you on Monday, Yuri-yah.” Each word falls cotton-soft, akin to the gentlest wisp of spring’s newborn breeze, and perhaps Yoongi’s gaze rests equally as so.She nods, an assured little thing, and now, as she turns to leave she shouts a proud, “Love you, appa! Love you, seonsaengnim!”They’re gilded words that stain Jimin’s cheeks crimson, yet he never knows that perhaps Yoongi, too, has begun to fall irrevocably for him, that same confession simply never echoed by his tongue. It’s a little quieter as she leaves, no longer the patter of bare soles against marble nor the sunny-sweet giggles that engulf the apartment in warmth, but Yoongi is silently thankful for a moment of reprieve from fatherhood, taking a deep breath as he inches closer to Jimin; both palms now resting at his waist, eyes boring into his own with distilled affection leaving Jimin to quietly gasp.“She does, you know. She adores you. How silly were we thinking we could hide it from her? She’s too smart.”“You did kiss me this morning.” Yet it falls with little defiance, simply a teasing lilt laced with laughter bubbling against Jimin’s tongue.Yoongi hums, his face drawing that bit closer as his palm now wanders Jimin’s spine, fingers tangling through silkened strands as his breath grazes his lips. “It’s hard not to.” Yoongi whispers before lips press firmly against Jimin’s own, swallowing what tender breaths find their fall.The kiss is deep and heady, as if Yoongi is a starved man and Jimin the very oxygen he breathes, yet it remains simply that, a kiss born through a need of the other; an intrinsic want never once faltering. But in all of its passion, it stays chaste and soft, little puffs of heat falling from Jimin’s nose as lips tug sweetly at each of their corners, fingers toying at napes and what sounds find their feet are ones crafted through comfort and serenity. It’s comfort and home, distilled warmth woven through each little hum and press of fingers at aching skin. It’s unbridled affection, all that tongues are too guarded to part with and oh, how— with each breath— they begin to fall just that little more.Jimin draws back, his eyes that but hesitant as his fingers tug at Yoongi’s own, and as his gaze flits down, Yoongi can’t quite bite back what rumble fights its fall to soothe the omega that his alpha seems to have so carelessly taken to. But perhaps it isn’t haste, for no other has commanded Yoongi’s heart quite like Jimin. No other to treat him like this as Yuri finds her place woven within his life. It’s bittersweet and sobering, what he’s so ardently wished for right beneath his nose from the year’s first breath, but he now holds him— just enough time to heal what heart lies wounded.“Hyung, can we talk a little? I— I like you but… but I want to talk.” Jimin stammers, his tongue leaden now as his eyes round against a plea. Never one born from regret but simply apprehension, a little girl right between them and the very first to hurt should it all lead astray.Yoongi’s hand sinks down to his waist, dipping just lightly beneath what cotton shirt houses his frame, a soft, soothing motion against bare skin prompting small sighs to fall. He nods, those alpha-rich rumbles never halting and eyes ever-fond, never once uncertain despite Jimin’s own hesitancy.“I want this, but I also don’t want to intrude. I never want to seem like I want to become something I’m not. I— I don’t want to rush either but… I like you and Yuri— what a sweet girl, hyung.” Jimin smiles, unable to halt what blooms against his cheeks. “You’ve raised her so beautifully and her father is all I could ever dream of.” But voice falters just that little, eyes averting once more in shyness yet Yoongi’s fingers feather beneath his chin, willing his gaze back to his own.“You won’t, Jimin-ah. There is nothing to replace if you’re scared of feeling like that. I want someone beside me, someone who loves Yuri just as much as I do, and,” he pauses, eyes laden in sincerity now as vulnerability lies. “I want someone to love me. Your concerns… I understand them, but don’t think you’d be seen as a replacement. You’re an addition. And we’ll take it slowly, yeah? Maybe I’ve been too careless— I’m sorry. I’ve just been lonely and to have such a perfect omega come into my life— my alpha wants you, Jimin-ah. I know it’s a little premature but… I can’t help the way I feel about you.” And as these words still between them, in a daring hope, Yoongi leans in, his lips never quite grazing Jimin’s own yet his breath still presses. each word against his tongue. And as Yoongi’s hold tightens against his waist, Jimin feels impossibly secure in the alpha’s hold.Jimin shakes his head, tousled strands tumbling against his skin and Yoongi is certain he’s never seen a sight more divine, more heaven-sent. “I just want to tread carefully hyung— for your sake, for Yuri’s sake, and for my sake. It’s all a lot and I— I can’t help but worry about her. She’s a sweet girl, so strong but also, such a sensitive little pup.”And truth be told, all those Yoongi has taken to in the past have never worried about his daughter, simply wanting him or his wealth, never once considering her feelings, but as these words tumble in caution, Yoongi’s alpha seems even more smitten, knowing that no one could ever compare to the omega standing before him.“We’ll just see how this goes tonight and who knows, maybe Yuri will have someone else to tuck her in at night. Maybe we both won’t feel so lonely anymore. Maybe… maybe it’ll all work out for us.” Maybe I’ll have my own little pack, he never lays bare, but it’s a lingering hope that has only dwindled, yet now the flame has gently reignited, one born from Jimin’s tender hand. It’ll never be large, simply comprised of his loves, but it’s all Yoongi could ever need to fulfil his alpha’s wishes. He could never call himself traditional— far too soft and certainly never a man to posture— yet there’s that innate ache never satiated despite Yuri’s arrival; his family never quite feeling complete.“I really like us spending time together. When you’d come in late and we’d talk— even just briefly— hyung. I’ve liked you for a while. Jungkook-ie— an alpha I work with, he’s very kind— he hears all about you and always told me to try and see if something would ever happen. I just brushed it off but… I couldn’t ever say no to you— not when you’re the kind of alpha I’ve ever wanted.”Yoongi’s forehead finds rest against Jimin’s shoulder, nose close to his scent gland but never quite brushing, and as shyness takes course, Jimin giggles, scent impossibly sweet and heady with each breath Yoongi draws in.“I have too, Jimin-ah. You’re the omega I’ve been waiting for.”“And… and seeing you shy— like this— I like that in an alpha. I’ve told you I’m not a traditional omega, but to have a family… it’s all I wanted as a pup. Maybe I couldn’t ever hide my instincts but never think I wouldn’t be here for you both, because I truly am.” And Jimin never tells him just how, with each breath, Yoongi leaves his omega to swoon, and how— despite many alphas’ attempts to court him— Yoongi has been the only one he’s ever deemed worthy enough to fall for as a potential mate. But potential isn’t a word he’s quite fond of, simply wishing for nothing more than to be tucked beside Yoongi in a warm nest, Yuri’s soft snores shrouding them in comfort. The date is perhaps all either could ask for, giddy smiles and tipsy tongues baring more than they intended, and Yoongi is certain he’s never seen an omega as perfect, hand-crafted from all of the world’s beauty— divinity itself. He’s sweet, cheeks rose-dusted and lips never without a delicate smile, small fingers tucked within Yoongi’s own hand over the table, and each petal-soft laughter that leaves his body to keel over prompts Yoongi’s own to follow, scents impossibly saccharine and heady as they stumble out of the restaurant. Yoongi’s coat envelops warmth around him, an arm and his waist and his hold firm, his omega safe within his assuring grasp.“It’s nice to spend time away from it all— work, Yuri-yah— I love her, don’t get me wrong, but it’s rare to get away.” Yoongi’s words hold a playful lilt as they walk back to the apartment, the restaurant simply a few steps from the building leaving the fizz of champagne to sink down their throats in gentle liquid courage.“If you’d ever like me to take care of her, let me know, alright?” Jimin smiles, his head finding rest on the alpha’s shoulder, yet as he halts their steps, it prompts his withdrawal, eyes wide and lips parted in confusion. Yoongi’s laughter lies light, the kind to leave Jimin’s skin tinged in an ever-warm glow.“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi begins, his voice laden in fondness. “I meant I like spending time with you. Alone. You’re a sweet little omega and— and it’s nice to spend time with you— nothing else to interrupt that.” He raises his palm, the pad of his fingers feather-soft against the heated round of Jimin’s cheek. His skin is delicate beneath his touch, and perhaps Yoongi isn’t quite sure he could resist him, yet he knows what they hold still resides in its infancy and he’s unwilling to rush it, for he wants nothing more than Jimin and could never bear to live with himself if he so carelessly pushed him away.“Oh— oh,” Jimin stammers, cheeks tinted crimson. “I do too, hyung. I really do. A lot.” His smile tugs beneath Yoongi’s hold, his thumb teasingly close to his lips, and as he leans in, he stills for a moment with simply the ghost of a kiss against Jimin’s lips before clarity takes hold as they still in the darkness. The only light is that that of what the streetlamp beside them bears, and so, Yoongi draws back, tugging a giddy Jimin back to his car, coat shrouding him as lips find their rest at his cheek. It’s heady as they return, hands wandering spines and trailing waists, the kind to leave little sighs and whimpers to tug at Jimin’s tongue. His scent is sweet, impossibly so leaving Yoongi all but dazed as his nose dares to part from his neck, yet the slick glide of their lips seemingly never halts as his hands steady the omega, perched against his thighs with cherry-flushed lips. He looks divine, delectably debauched against him, and Yoongi has never tasted anything as sweet as his kiss. But Jimin finds it hard to control himself, his omega all but screaming to mate the man before him— let him be claimed and submit— so he pulls back, taking a moment for his eyes to trace his face to ground him, that little scent-drunk from what shrouds them in such sweetness, the warmth of roasted wood and open flames lined with his own saccharine tuberose.“Are you alright?” Yoongi asks, his voice that little hoarse as he lets his lips graze Jimin’s cheek before the omega rests his forehead on his shoulder, parting with a gentle sigh.“Is this okay? Are we even allowed to be doing this?” His own words fall a little thin, wet and affected by the alpha’s delicate dominance, but as Yoongi draws a palm down his spine, he presses his face against Jimin’s head, soothing and overwhelming in distilled comfort, easing what begins to slightly sour from apprehension.“It is— more than. But we can stop.” Yoongi assures yet it does little to calm what fears settle within Jimin’s mind, wondering if his hesitance has pushed Yoongi away, and that the alpha simply could never wish for him again.“S-sorry. I don’t think I can do anything further, not tonight, I’m sorry. Please don’t take this as I don’t like you.” And Yoongi can tell Jimin’s worries, a small tug to will him from his neck for his eyes to bore into his own, nothing but sincerity and understanding woven through irises. His stance is commanding now, unwavering devotion thick through his scent, and so, Yoongi draws a palm to Jimin’s cheek as his thumb grazes its round, nose nuzzling Jimin’s own in assurance.“You’re really sweet, little omega— so sweet. And I don’t. Don’t be sorry, Jimin-ah, it’s new for us both. New for you having me and Yuri come into your life like this, and it’s new for me because,” he pauses, a breath as lips gently nip at those that lie cherry-bitten, “you’re the first person I’ve ever let in since Yujun.” He presses each word against Jimin’s tongue, soft kisses easing him back into his delicate hold yet small apologies still tumble as they part, and Yoongi simply shakes his head with a little smile tugging at his cheeks. “Please, Jimin-ah, don’t apologise. I don’t think I’m truly ready yet either. We’ll take it slowly and get to know each other more. I don’t think I’d be able to live with myself if we rushed things and it was too much for you. You can see Yuri outside of school more to see how it’ll be. I’ll take you on dates, hold your hands, kiss you, court you better— we’ll take it one step at a time. I’m not wanting a one-night stand, Jimin-ah. I want something so much more. I want you to join our lives one day. My alpha wants that and so do I.”“I really like you, hyung.” Jimin whispers, alpha at the tip of his tongue, and perhaps more aches to fall yet no words ever do, his eyes simply baring all that Jimin can never quite say. They spell his safety in Yoongi’s hold, his assurance and constant understanding, that no matter what, he’s there for the omega.“I really like you too, Jimin-ah.”Jimin’s head once more finds its rest against his shoulder, cheek pressed against skin as he gently nips Yoongi’s scent gland— an innocent kiss leaving Yoongi serene. He hums as Jimin’s nose firms against his, little kitten licks across his neck drawing out distilled warmth, thickening Jimin’s own scent, in turn.“Your scent is so lovely,” Yoongi begins, baring his neck that little more for Jimin to nuzzle into. “S’my favourite.” And perhaps it’s not quite the wine that leaves his words to slur, but the heady sweetness that engulfs him prompting fatigue to settle thick.“I think yours is my favourite, hyung,” Jimin replies with a gentle smile, close-lipped as he draws back, yet silence stills between them for a moment as his lip tugs between his teeth, gently pried back by the pad of Yoongi’s thumb. “Do— do you think she’d call me ‘Minnie’?” He asks, that same hesitancy once more woven through his eyes, and as Yoongi’s lips spread into an ever-blooming smile, baring little teeth and pink-petal gums, Jimin can’t quite bite down his own following its lead.“Yeah,” he says through a shaky breath, fingers up to Jimin’s cheek where they graze the tender round. “Yeah, I think she will. She’d love that— I’d love that. I—” But his words never quite fall, only willed to find their tumble at Jimin’s gentle assurance. He places a small kiss at the tip of Yoongi’s nose, lips capturing a small freckle at its end before he draws back, eyes urging him to spell all that he wishes to. “I’m happy,” he says, his voice that little choked and strained, thin and more vulnerable than Jimin has perhaps borne witness to, as those alphas he’s ever known pride themselves on such supposed strength born through suppression.“I’m really happy.”“I am too, hyung. I couldn’t be happier.”And so, kisses never quite halt, cotton-soft and innocent, fingers learning what comprises each other, and as fatigue settles against their frames, they find their rest tucked beside the other. Jimin sits between Yoongi’s legs with his spine flush to his chest, broad arms around him and holding him tight, and now, Yoongi learns that aside from Yuri, Jimin is his favourite thing to hold; warm and soft and simply divine, and part of him wonders whether sleep-hazed days lie in the distant future where they sit just like this, and Yuri settles in Jimin’s arms with her little nose against his neck in slumber.“I feel lucky to have met you,” Yoongi mumbles, his lips grazing Jimin’s scalp. “Anyone I’ve ever met before has either wanted me for my money and nothing to do with Yuri, or just a child to call their own without responsibility.”Jimin turns around in his hold, his body sinking against Yoongi’s own with Yoongi’s hands still splayed at his spine, keeping Jimin close. “I adore Yuri, I really do, but you’re also something very special hyung. I couldn’t imagine just wanting one or the other, and not willing to be responsible for her— I do it all day, I’d gladly help in any way that I can, hyung.” It falls with a gentle puff of laughter, a fondness lined through each vowel that parts, and he tucks what fallen strands graze Yoongi’s cheeks behind his ears, touch lingering just that little. “I couldn’t imagine falling for someone who has a child simply because they have one, and I couldn’t imagine falling for someone just because of their money— that really is irrelevant to me. I know your job— I kind of have to— but if I’m honest, I’ve never once thought about it. You’re just Yoongi… that’s more than enough for me.”“You’re falling for me?” Yoongi asks, a teasing lilt in his tone prompting Jimin to stammer, words never quite rounding against his tongue. “Jimin-ah, it’s no secret that I already have— quite hard, in fact. Yuri makes it quite well-known, she’s sometimes too smart for her own good I think.” The words are sealed with a kiss, a silent promise that Yoongi, too, is falling for Jimin just as he is for Yoongi.“You like doing that, don’t you? Kissing.”“You’re hard to resist. Do you do it on purpose, seonsaengnim? Make yourself irresistible? I wish you didn’t have to hide your scent, you know, it’s so sweet. You really are the loveliest omega I’ve ever met.” And Jimin has never felt so cherished in someone’s hold before, each word that falls one he could reside in forever in its adoration, each ministration one leaving his heart to flutter and omega fighting to simply sweetly submit.He lets his head rest against Yoongi’s chest, the thrum of his heart’s beat lulling him into serenity as Yoongi drapes a blanket over their frames to stave off what chill settles born from autumn’s now-callous hand, but a question that lingers on his tongue finds its fall, a concern thinly veiled as a gentle tease. “Am I not too old for you?”Jimin hums, head shaking just that little as a pout settles. “No, you’re not.”“So older alphas are your type, then?” Yoongi can’t bite down his soft laughter, watching as Jimin’s cheeks redden as he hides his face in his chest. “I’m only teasing you, Jimin-ah.”But as Jimin pulls back, his eyes are glassy and Yoongi can’t mistake the slight dejection on his face, prompting him to tug him closer, wholly alpha instincts taking charge in the face of a wavering omega.“Am I too young? I worry that maybe— maybe I might not be able to give you both what you need. You’re— you’re a father… own a business… I didn’t graduate university long ago…” It falls thin and wavered and leaves Yoongi's heart to shatter.“You aren’t. Jimin-ah, I don’t think words can quite do you justice. You’re perfect— believe me. I wouldn’t be like this if I didn’t think you weren’t all I could ever need. I was a lucky man who found success early, that’s all. I got married early and had a pup early… you’re not too young or immature, not at all. You haven’t seen what mess Yuri and I get up to sometimes.” He laughs, easing what tension strings between them just that little.As Jimin curls up against him, small purrs find their feet, matched by Yoongi’s rumbles that all but soothe him. They’re happy things, more than words could ever spell, and as Yoongi once more fixes the blanket to warm them, Jimin lets his eyes close. It feels right with Jimin in his hold, Yoongi thinks, his alpha finally settles and satiated from all it had been yearning for. Yujun made him happy yet nothing could quite compare to this, their lives never entwining and heads always butting, and whilst some alphas can find peace together, Yoongi simply couldn’t with her, wanting that little piece of tradition his alpha craved and what she was unwilling to provide. To have a little omega in his arms feels right, his alpha spells, and whilst Yoongi knows it isn’t simply that— that Jimin is perfect beyond what his subgender could ever be— he wonders just if he may have been the missing piece to their family all of this time, and that as time finds its pass, perhaps it’ll be a family ever-growing.They wake from their brief slumber as the moon finds its descent, warmth shrouding them yet necks are stiff, and Yoongi all but carries Jimin to his bedroom, deft fingers undressing him to the chorus of sleepy giggles and assurances that he can despite his hesitation, and that itself leaves Jimin’s omega to perhaps fall that little harder. It isn’t long before they find their rest beneath the sheets, teeth quickly brushed in haste and Yoongi tugging Jimin’s shivering frame closer, lips against all that they can in adoration. He is all that Jimin has ever wished for, an alpha to tend to his every need and simply love him in turn, and whilst it may be that bit premature to think, both can’t quite mistake the pull within that this is right— that this is simply meant to be. — Jimin stirs, the gentle light filtering through billowing curtains lets his eyes adjust that little easier, but perhaps what’s sweeter is Yoongi beside him. His eyes are trained on his face— innocently so and slightly half-lidded from what fatigue still lingers against his skin— but it prompts a smile to tug at Jimin’s cheeks, heating beneath the tender weight of the alpha’s gaze. Yoongi reaches up, delicate fingers trailing lines down his nose, a palm against his jaw as his thumb draws little rounds against the newborn-soft skin, sleep-warm and doughy from repose, and Yoongi perhaps could never be more smitten at what sight lies before him. He bridges the distance just lightly, kissing Jimin in a press just shy of a lazy whisper; one spelling the ease of ‘good morning’, distilled comfort tinting his veins with every peck. And perhaps Jimin has never felt as serene in another’s hold, frame broad and eyes ever-fond against his own, scent thick and heady leaving each breath that little sweeter, and as little mars his thoughts in the wake of slumber, against better judgement Jimin knows he’s falling fast— his omega already too far gone.“Mornin’,” Yoongi hums, each syllable pressed against Jimin’s tongue. It’s heavy with fatigue and his drawl lingers— one that Jimin simply adores. Selfishly he wishes it’d rear its head more often, what dialect from his youth only peeking through as he teeters on the border of sleep. “Good sleep?”Jimin nods, a sweet yet fatigue-laced laugh falling from slightly parted lips, drawing back just enough to meet Yoongi’s gaze once more. “I did. You?”“Mhm. Sleep better with you beside me.” Yoongi tugs him closer, hand finding its way against Jimin’s spine. “I’ll make you breakfast, yeah?” He says, voice barely finding its feet against his tongue. Words are still drawled, warm and ever-fond things that leave Jimin’s heart ablaze, but he knows that whilst Yoongi aches to provide, what they still in is certainly rare for the alpha, mornings early as sleep never quite gets the chance to falter from his skin in haste.“Stay a bit, something tells me you don’t get to lie in bed much.”And Yoongi smiles, one a little wavered as he lets Jimin’s nose find rest pressed against Yoongi’s neck. He draws lines with his fingers, trailing down his spine with a learned hand and feeling the sweet omega within his hold. Perhaps it’s his place, Yoongi dares to let himself think, that their lives have entwined leaving his own home right beside Jimin, and maybe— he distantly wonders— that Yuri will finally have an omega to teach her all that he simply could never. He’s tried yet attempts have been futile, nests haphazardly strewn and never quite settling her, his scent thick and rich. Whilst it leaves her calm as she’s shrouded in her father’s scent— the scent of unbridled home— Yoongi begins to notice her demeanour with Jimin, and how his purrs soothe her much more than he ever could, or perhaps it’s simply a different kind of care an alpha can never provide. He knows he does all that he can but selfishly, having another beside him would ease the burden of parenthood just that little and provide Yuri with another to look up to, someone who would love her just as their own. Jimin does, Yoongi is quite certain, and hopes this may be all that their little family needs to find its tender feet; an omega so gentle and right, all that Yoongi is beginning to fall so ardently for.“You’re good to me, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi says, lips stringing delicate kisses to his scalp, and Jimin never tries to withdraw as his nose grazes Yoongi’s scent gland, simply relishing in the newfound serenity he provides. It feels like safety and home, perhaps premature yet buried deep, neither can quite fight what ties them together. “Breakfast? I’ll make it for you.” Yoongi’s words fall that little more awake now, yet Jimin never relents, his eyes heavy-lidded and body seemingly unable to fight what sleep wishes to tug him under once more. A smile tugs at Yoongi’s cheeks, a palm brushing back sleep-mussed strands from Jimin’s forehead and for a moment, he stills in serenity, simply watching Jimin before him with little else than fondness woven from his gaze.“I’ll help.” Jimin mumbles yet it’s soft, lips grazing Yoongi’s skin as he sinks that little lower into his hold, his nose now firmly against Yoongi’s scent gland as he draws out all that leaves him shrouded in little else than sanctuary.“I’m not having you make breakfast Jimin-ah. Just wake up a bit, yeah? Let me take care of you.” It tumbles with a quiet hum, neither making any attempt to remove themselves from what moment they wish would find its halt. A place hand-crafted by their tender palms, one warm and safe and ever-right, and as Jimin once more drifts off in the alpha’s hold, Yoongi has perhaps never seen a sight sweeter. Such as Yuri in his arms, little cheeks pressed against his limbs, but now Jimin takes her place just briefly, finding rest in the alpha’s embrace and leaving small puffs of heat to tint his skin crimson. It satiates his alpha all the same, a feeling never quite rearing its head outside of tending to his daughter but Jimin seems to bring it out tenfold, allowing him to relish that little more in being the one to spell security. But it’s a different feeling, love so raw for his daughter— intrinsic— yet here marks the ache of hope, the will to adore in a way he hasn’t quite held onto since Yejun’s departure. And so, now as Yoongi holds Jimin in his grasp, he vows to do just that; let his heart’s guard find its falter to breathe life into once-despondent veins.Before either could find their rest the night prior, Jimin had shuffled a little restlessly, eventually moving the pillows around their heads in gentle protection. It wasn’t much, he had mumbled, not quite his usual routine, but spread warmth within Yoongi’s chest all the same at the small semblance of nesting. His alpha preened as Jimin quickly rumpled blankets, finding his rest with his nose firmly placed against Yoongi’s throat, and it made him wonder just if love finds its bloom between them, would he, one day, show his little girl all of what he never could?It isn’t long before they begin to take their leave from what Jimin had crafted, blankets and pillows shrouding them in security and warmth, and whilst it prompts a small whine to bubble against his tongue, with each breath that falls, Yoongi knows that little more that Jimin is simply right— the very love he’s been craving.“Do you like eggs?” Yoongi asks, his thumb parting Jimin’s lips just briefly as a broad palm cups Jimin’s jaw. Jimin nods, a small hum falling as his eyes flutter open, sitting upright against cotton with what strength begins to prevail. Yet it’s Yoongi’s laughter that leaves him flustered, something warm and soft, fond and adoring. “You’re very sweet.” He mumbles in a drawl, perhaps that little too gentle for Jimin to ever catch it. “So sweet.”He aids Jimin’s ascent, a firm palm splayed beneath the loose cotton of his shirt, fingers lightly grazing his spine leaving little sighs to tumble as he guides him to the kitchen, finding rest at the dining table as Yoongi turns to make much-needed coffee. What they hold lies as warm as what rays begin to string through billowed curtains and what birdsong shrouds the air around them, lulling them into a delicate serenity both could find themselves residing in until their dying breaths. But perhaps what bleeds that little sweeter is the soft peck Yoongi presses to Jimin’s head as he hands him a mug, a touch feather-soft against his nape as a hum clings to his tongue, scent impossibly delectable and leaving Jimin’s omega to lean into all that he provides. It’s a safety unlike any other, perhaps a learned hand from maturity spelling a worthy mate, a man who tends to his daughter with care and Jimin seems little different, and whilst Jimin shouldn’t— it’s far too much of a premature thought, he knows— he can see a life where their family grows even stronger, perhaps the soft patter of feet never quite finding its falter as his omega yearns for pups of his own to adore alongside perhaps his most precious gift— Yuri. He’s never been one to be broody, never been an omega to simply wish for pups, but somehow, Yoongi has changed that; seeing an alpha so firm in himself leaves Jimin that little weak at the knees, wanting to give them both everything they could’ve ever wished for. His scent sweetens and perhaps Yoongi knows, a soft puff of laughter as he places eggs and toast before him, another sweet kiss to his skin before sitting beside him as what glint threads through his eyes remains steadfast. It’s domestic, all that Jimin has craved through mornings quickly dressed and leaving without a trace, and so, he lets himself still in it even if his cheeks fluster, wanting little else than a life beside the doting alpha.“You’re really cute, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi begins, cheeks now doughy with food, watching as Jimin’s own redden beneath his gaze, one petal-soft and assuring yet lined with a gentle tease.“What time are you picking Yuri up?” Jimin asks, perhaps to rid himself of his fluster, but it does little as a salve as Yoongi sighs, eyes downcast and body tensing and Jimin wonders just if he should’ve asked at all. His scent sours just that little, a bit burnt and despondent and Yoongi seems to catch on to Jimin’s unspoken thoughts, placing a delicate hand on his own before apologies cling to his tongue, sincerity woven through each vowel that finds its fall.“I think midday. It has been nice just to spend time with you. To get to know you— kiss you, hold you, scent you— I love Yuri but can’t do those things without being mindful of her. Don’t think I don’t love spending time with her— I love her with all I have— but I don’t get to do this often, Jimin-ah.”“It’s because you’re a good father, hyung.” Jimin begins in tender assurance, woven from the most gilded tongue that somehow, despite his age, bears assurance that leaves even Yoongi’s to falter. “You do everything with her in mind which I truly admire about you. She’ll learn with time but you’re right, you want to shield her from those things for a while— just until it all becomes more real, don’t you? Just until it’s certain.” Jimin’s eyes house unwavering sincerity, the kind to draw Yoongi closer, and he wonders just how dangerous it’d be if he lets himself take the plunge or if Jimin will readily catch him, holding him afloat within a cotton-shrouded grasp.“I do but… I never want to compromise. I love her, Jimin-ah, but sometimes it’s a lot. Everyone I’ve ever tried to be with since it’s— it’s never worked. It’s always been a night to be intimate, let off steam, never anything lasting. I never see that with you,” he lets his thumb draw light circles against Jimin’s hand. “I never see it as simply as anything less than lasting, and I want it to. I want it to last and I want love, nothing less than that.”“I do too, hyung. I want it to last for all of our sakes, not least yours.” As the words find their tumble, Yoongi draws Jimin’s hand to his lips, a petal-soft kiss against each knuckle as his cheeks dust crimson. “But you have me, whenever you need you can just call, alright? Even if nothing happens,” it’s a knowing smile that tugs at Jimin’s lips, that despite his words of hesitancy, both know what they hold can only ever lead to one thing— love to bloom before them. “I’ll look out for you both until you never need me.”Yoongi stills in what silence shrouds them, both finishing the rest of their breakfast before they stand to clear what lines the table, yet as they do, Yoongi turns to Jimin, hands wrapped around his waist as his head finds rest on his shoulder. His nose tucks against his neck, little puffs of breath half-choked in small sobs and barely-there scenting leaving comfort to settle, and Yoongi knows that despite their infrequent and perhaps surface-level meetings to exchange Yuri in their arms, and gazes spelling the ache for something more yet hearts never quite letting them, he’s found his home.“Are you alright?” Jimin asks, his voice little more than the faintest whisper now. Akin to winter’s newborn breath, its first inhale blanketing the earth in distilled serenity. He draws fingers to Yoongi’s spine, lines trailing down each ridge and learning it beneath his tender hand, and as hums tumble to purrs against his tongue, Yoongi’s chest distantly rumbles, the gentle soothe of a sanctuary penned by tentative words and promises, but ones uttered with the vision of an everlasting assurance— that they’ll find what solace they’ve so comfortably found within each other until their final days.“You make me feel vulnerable, Jimin-ah. I feel like I can talk to you. Sometimes… all I want is to have someone in my arms again, holding me tight.” Each word is woven with hurt, his voice that little wavered and broken, and it prompts Jimin to hold him tighter; the man he once thought held the world in his palm— successful in his work and doting father— all but pieced together by his own grasp. But it’s that which draws him closer, no longer does he believe those who say alphas are too brash and that they simply hold themselves higher than any other, for Yoongi has shown unwavering love to his daughter and a vulnerability perhaps Jimin could never quite bare himself.His scent sweetens to soothe, purr that little louder as he presses his lips to Yoongi’s temple and as they draw back what smile lingers against his lips is strained yet content, the kind to finally let another into his heart after all that’s left it shattered in little more than crimson shards. He’s a man who perhaps holds the world on his shoulders for none other than his daughter’s future— a man who’d devote his entirety to ensuring her safety and happiness— but it’s this that’s left his own heart to yearn for another, and Jimin wonders just if Yoongi needs another to love him just as he so ardently loves in return.“Then tell me, I will. I’ll hold you. Sometimes we need someone to do that for us, don’t we? Sometimes we need someone to give us back what we give ourselves.”Yoongi’s eyes soften, his hand drawn up to cup Jimin’s palm and he can’t quite help but press his lips to Jimin’s own. It’s petal-soft and perhaps that little apprehensive, salt-laced yet Jimin’s lips part just that bit more, allowing Yoongi’s tongue to break what gentle barrier finds its fall. Soft hums tumble from lips, fingers walk spines, and as Jimin’s hand weaves its way through what strands graze Yoongi’s nape, they briefly part.“We— we have a while. I said midday— it’s… it’s only ten.” Yoongi manages, breathless as Jimin simply giggles.“Yeah?” He tucks a small strand behind Yoongi’s ear, his voice a teasing lilt. “Just this though, nothing more. Is that alright?” And Yoongi nods, yet apprehension settles for a brief moment, prompting Jimin’s eyes to soften.“Do you want this?” Yoongi asks, that little more vulnerable.“Yes, hyung, I really do.”“Are we— are we going too fast?”“I don’t know but… I want it, hyung. I just don’t want any of us to get hurt. It isn’t as if we don’t know each other— we’ve spoken after school. Yuri tucked in the beanbag when you come in and you seem so tired but you’ve always been so sweet to me. You’ve always talked to me and made me feel so happy. We’re not strangers, are we?” Jimin’s voice is a delicate salve, easing what nerves find their settle, and each word that tumbles is one that Yoongi could never envision as feeling more perfect, somehow everything he could ever need to hear and born from someone most divine.Yoongi shakes his head and leans in once more, that little softer this time, a kiss woven from unspoken promises pressed against their tongues. “Will you come over next weekend? I promised Yuri a picnic and… it’s supposed to be a bit warmer. She loves you.” And despite better judgement, Yoongi thinks that perhaps he does too. He’s fallen too hard and far too hasty before and as he does again, fear finds its feet, but it feels that little different with Jimin. No longer a man simply finding his place in the world with little experience in his hand, for now, he knows what love entails, each day one born through the distilled adoration of his daughter.Jimin smiles, leaning into a sweet laughter-lined kiss. “I’d love to, hyung. Thank you.”Time finds its pass against cream sofas, Jimin’s place firmly on Yoongi and hands learning all that they can. Little more than the saccharine sounds of parting lips shroud them in sanctuary, and whilst both hold doubts that linger, they’re concerns that never line their kisses, simply finding solace within the other for the brief moments they have left.Yet as Jimin leaves, it all feels that little too quiet, and Yoongi perhaps realises just how perfect he feels beside him and how desperately he wishes for it all to work. He aches to have him back, wrapped in his arms and kisses never faltering. The warmth of his body against his own as such a tender gaze leaves his heart aflame. He wants Jimin wholly, to love and adore him, to devote himself and prove just what worthy of an alpha he can be; to provide, to protect and cherish, to let laughter lie and bloom safety unlike any other. But that silence finds its welcome dissolution as Yuri arrives, little heels kicking as she babbles in her car seat. Kkul is in her grasp, small fingers tugging at fur and laughter strung through the air.“We— we got apples, and… we made a pie and kimchi. Halmoni made a pie, appa! Halaboji read to me— he does funny voices like you,” she giggles, sweet and distilled and perhaps Yoongi could never find a love quite as pure— different to what begins its bloom in his chest for Jimin yet neither holds strength above the other, simply incomparable feelings that seem to entwine. She rambles at how they smelled the sweet flowers in their garden and sat under the small ivy-lined arch leading to a cobbled pathway as they ate cookies, all that Yoongi remembers from his own childhood. “Appa, you should make me a pie! Or seonsaengnim! I think it would be yummy.”Yoongi can’t quite bite down his smile and crimson-flushed cheeks, and perhaps it’s simply the ease of Jimin already holding his daughter’s trust, her teacher whom she’s always spoken fondly of, but to hear her so willing for Jimin to weave that little further into their lives gives him hope— all he’s never held in his grasp before.“Maybe, you’ll have to ask him, my angel.” It’s chuckle lined and leaves petal-soft giggles to fall, and assurances from Yuri’s tongue that she’ll definitely ask him, but Yoongi knows it’ll be shortlived as by Monday, she’ll surely forget.“Um, appa?” Yet she turns that little more hesitant, once more fingers rolling Kkul’s soft fur in her grasp.“Yes, sweetheart?”“Why— why was seonsaengnim at my house?”And Yoongi smiles once more, fingers tapping against the steering wheel to ground him just that little, words rolling against his tongue for a moment to delicately explain to his sweet pup. “Ah, Yuri-yah, remember what we explained to you about appa going on a date?” He waits for a small hum, a little sound of assurance he knows lines her lips. She’s focused on his words, her own never quite forming in her mind, yet Yoongi never prompts for more, simply watching as her wide eyes urge him to continue. “Appa went on a date with your seonsaengnim.”She gasps, lips tugging into a cotton-soft smile as giggles find their tumble in haste. “Will— will you marry him, appa?”Yoongi can’t quite will the words to fall, and perhaps in an ideal future, he’d love nothing more, but such commitments are heavy— far too heavy for little hearts and what she conjures up with her little bears during weekend afternoons— and he simply sighs. “We’ll see, Yuri-yah. It doesn’t always work like that. But he likes us.”“He likes me?” She asks, another gasp lining her tongue.“Of course he does, angel.” And it falls to the backdrop of mumbled words about how she’s his favourite, and Yoongi isn’t quite sure he could ever protest, for he clearly knows what affection Jimin holds for his little girl. “I’ve invited him over next weekend, is that alright sweetheart?”“Yes!” It’s a beat too soon and dares to interject into Yoongi’s vowels that tumble, but it leaves nothing more than laughter to follow, impossibly endeared by his sweet girl.“We’ll go on that picnic I promised you. Could you help me make some sandwiches? We can also make some cookies. You can show him just how good you are at helping me.”Yuri hums, a small little tune she can’t quite get let her mind rid of. “Can we make kimbap?”“Of course, we can. We’ll make some kimbap too, my angel.”Yoongi has perhaps never felt as giddy, his love so welcoming in what blooms within his chest, and as concerns briefly found their feet, they quickly dissolve into little more than a distant tug. Perhaps it’s premature, inviting the sweet omega for a picnic with his pup certainly feels like a larger step than it should, but it’s a much-needed an afternoon to simply see whether Jimin truly will find his place with them, and if Yoongi and Yuri can be all that Jimin could ever ask for. It’s a tentative hope that they can, Yoongi wonders as he pulls into the car park of his apartment, that all of the kisses and tender words they’ve shared may lay the foundations for something much sweeter, and perhaps a pack of three is too small, but for Yoongi, it’s what his alpha so desperately craves. More definitely lingers against the horizon should time and love permit, but for now it’s more than enough, and he can’t wait until that day when they may all find their comfort together. It’s that little colder back home without Jimin, Yoongi thinks, knowing that perhaps secretly, Yuri wished for Jimin’s presence, but as he settles her in front of her favourite cartoons, he quickly rids her of her shoes, pressing a cotton-soft kiss against the sweet little rounds of her cheeks— a love unlike any other, he’s quite certain. If she asked for the stars on a string, he’d find a way to give them to her, and whilst work seems to consume his days his mind is never without his love in all that he does, yet Jimin seems to find a place beside her lining his thoughts in a welcome distraction for what leaves his eyes crimson-laced and housing bruised stains beneath them. The stress of work never quite leaves his frame, a leaden weight with each waking breath, but Yuri and now Jimin seem to be the very salves to find that little bit of peace he’s so desperately searched for.“You need a bath, don’t you, my angel? Halmoni said you had lunch, but are you hungry?” Yoongi asks, letting her slump against him as her eyes fix on the screen. She hums, a little nod yet she remains distracted, softly purring as her father’s fingers scratch her scalp.“Can I have a snack please, appa?”“Of course, sweetheart. You’re so polite, aren’t you?” He kisses her once more, this time against little curls, and if he could hold her forever, he thinks it’d be a life ever-sweet, a love that makes his heart burst against all that confines it. “I’ll make you something, stay there for me, alright?”She nods, eyes still watching what cartoon she’s perhaps watched more times than Yoongi could ever count, but it soothes her, little more than soft hums falling as she tucks herself in the corner of the sofa, a small blanket strewn over her frame leaving toes to wiggle beneath it. Yoongi is quick to prepare some sticks of vegetables, letting her still in silence with the gentle drone of the TV before her. Yet as Yoongi settles beside her, his phone buzzes in his pocket, his eyes widening and lips parting in a gum-lined smile as he opens it, Jimin. He takes a moment to read the message— Jimin asking if he should bring anything to their picnic— prompting a soft puff of laughter to fall leaving Yuri’s head to turn to her father, and as a small ‘you’re smiling’ finds its feet through what vegetables muffle all that lines her tongue, Yoongi’s cheeks redden just that little more.“Did you finish your vegetables?” He asks, a thinly veiled attempt to mask his fluster.“No. Cucumber is yucky, appa.”“I’m sorry, angel. I’ll eat them for you.” Yoongi quickly types a message— unsent yet ready for when Yuri doesn’t command his attention— and takes the cucumber from her plate.“Why are you smiling?” Her questions never halt and whilst it’s endearing, Yoongi never quite wishes to bare all as what strings between Jimin and himself still resides in its infancy. He could never forgive himself if his daughter got hurt, and whilst her own wishes are ones perhaps mirrored in his own mind, they’re never echoed to her.“I got a message from someone, that’s all, sweetheart. Enjoying your cartoon?”“Mhm. Can you make my hair pretty, appa? Please?”And Yoongi has never been immune to his daughter’s eyes, sweet and wide, lips parted in a little pout, and as he stands to find her heart-shaped brush and star-lined hair ties, he finds just enough time to reply to Jimin, spelling he never needs to worry about bringing anything to their picnic— his presence is more than he could ever ask for. But something tugs within him that Jimin won’t take his advice, gentle courting they’ve both initiated, and perhaps it’s this that satiates his alpha more than anything else; Jimin truly wishes to join their family, right beside him.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The week falls slowly, perhaps that little too drawled for Yoongi’s liking. His days are framed by seeing Jimin’s sweet face each morning and evening— just as the sun lines the sky crimson at each meeting, a little earlier than most, yet Jimin understands. And whilst he never stays late at work, it’s that same work which drags, hours aching just to see what smile leaves his own lips to curl. Talks of the picnic seem to be all that falls from Yuri’s tongue over the course of the week, little giggles at the simple question of when the weekend will arrive and what they can make to leave the impending afternoon one all that she could ever wish for. Yet if Jimin would say he wasn’t excited, he’d be a man holding lies in his palm, for each night he dreams that little sweeter at the prospect of seeing Yoongi the next morning. As evenings fall with nothing more than wine and romantic dramas thrumming against the walls of his apartment, his mind casts to what the weekend will provide and, perhaps, if what solace they’ve so delicately found within the other is one that’ll only strengthen. As Saturday finds its feet, it’s a clear morning, autumn’s chill largely staved off by what cloud had lined the sky overnight. Yoongi wakes to a bubbly Yuri in his arms, little fingers poking at his sleep-warm cheeks and wide eyes peering into his own with that never-waning glimmer. She had spent the early part of the morning in her father’s arms, weekends cherished when work never calls leaving Yuri restless, but nothing quite soothes her like her father’s scent. Her little nose pressed to his neck as fingers tug at the collar of his shirt, fabric thin yet enough to keep some semblance of warmth as the air cools, and holding his daughter leaves Yoongi to feel just a little of what it’s like to be— no work nor stress lining his frame, for nothing could ever be more important than the little family he’s so carefully crafted. Jimin is wholly part of that; both Yoongi and his alpha are tentatively sure that Jimin will fill what void still dares to linger in their lives. As morning tumbles into its latter half, Yuri sits up, small grumbles falling from her tongue as hunger takes its course, and whilst Yoongi would love nothing more than to spend more time cuddling his little girl, he follows, tugging her into his lap before picking her up, relishing in what time they so delicately spend together. It’s time to be savoured— a fact he knows— for it’s time stretched thin as work takes more demands from what hours he already sets aside. Nights are now spent in the office as Yuri sleeps, his own slumber never taking its hand until the moon kisses the horizon’s dim glow only to wake a few hours later, eyes crimson-laced and tears fighting their fall. Yet Jimin eases that burden each morning as he hands him a coffee bought on the way to work with a small smile tugging at his cheeks, and as afternoons leave exhaustion to settle thick against his skin, Jimin’s gentle hand at his jaw is all that Yoongi could ever need, leaning into the omega’s delicate touch as his thumb draws circles against him. A fatigued man yet holding hope beyond all that he could ever believe, and as the hours turn— Yuri eating breakfast before her favourite cartoon— what afternoon lines the horizon leaves Yoongi giddy; if all goes well, Jimin just may settle further into their little family. “Appa!” Yuri calls, a sweet lilt in her timbre. Her socked heels click as she chews on her straw, water drunk at her father’s request. “Can— can I get dressed? I want to now.”“Alright, angel. We need to leave in a bit, can you do that for me? I’ll get the picnic ready.” Yoongi leans just a little, broad palm brushing back his daughter’s hair from her face before taking the cup from her grasp. She nods, a small hum clinging to her tongue as she runs from the sofa. But Yoongi’s hold is just that bit too quick for her, slowing her down just before she has the chance to slip. “Careful, angel. Just walk, we have plenty of time before we need to leave.”“M’excited.” She huffs, wide eyes turning to Yoongi and he could never deny her, for he is truly wrapped around her little finger at any given request, and it’s a request he’d gladly indulge in just to see his sweet pup smile.“I know you are, I am too.” It falls laced with a chuckle as he lets go of his hold around her shoulder leaving her ignoring his plea to calm, with little soles moving perhaps faster than they should against marble tiles.He sighs, a smile tugging at each corner of his lips as he follows his daughter, head shaking lightly yet fondness never wavers towards Yuri; her kindness is all that leaves days that little brighter when what flicker lines within seem to dim to nothing more than a smoulder. It’s a fizzle that lines his chest, never the burning spark that used to lie, but as his family teeters on the border of repair— no longer the man to guide Yuri alone— it’s one finding strength. He stands by her door, watching as she lines up her bears and tells them all that her day will entail. Her favourite person is coming today— besides her appa— and she ensures each stuffed teddy knows of her excitement. “Weren’t you getting dressed, Yuri-yah?” Yoongi asks, a hand at Yuri’s spine as she kneels on her bed. “I’m sure Kkul wants to hear all about it later, but we still need to brush our teeth and pack, don’t we?” She nods, another hum falling as she leans back into her father’s hold, Yoongi unable to halt what laughter bubbles against his tongue. “Can you be a big girl today and get dressed for me whilst I do?”“Yes! Kkul can help!” Her sweet giggles leave Yoongi’s heart to flutter with a love he could never dare give up. It’s distilled and ever-loving, one born through the tender beginnings of life right in his arms. “I’m sure he will angel, but if you need me, you come and get me, okay?”She nods once more, giving Yoongi just enough time to bend down and kiss her cheek, leaving more laughter to tumble in honeyed strands, yet what apprehension begins to line Yoongi’s veins seems to only strengthen, for he wonders if this may finally be all he has ever wished for.It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to ready himself, the clothes he had laid out the night prior are ones never too casual, still wanting to leave Jimin with a good impression. Whilst he knows it’s unnecessary, he wishes to gently court— to try and win Jimin over— but something tells him that he already has. His cardigan lies against his frame, never too tight but fitted, neat and ready for what gusts find their feet during autumn afternoons, and as he hears small chatter from Yuri’s room, he decides to begin to pack all that they had prepared the night before. Yuri had all but jumped at the chance to cook for Jimin, little eyes housing what stars line moonlit skies as she helped her father prepare all that she could. Sandwiches cut in little squares, kimbap tightly rolled, and fruit picked out that Yoongi had said was certainly too big for little fingers, now leaving him to find just enough time to slice sweet apples and oranges before Yuri finishes. Yet as Yoongi places the containers in a chilled bag, he hears a small cry, stomach falling as he quickly rushes to his daughter’s room as dread begins to pool within his veins.“Appa!” Yuri huffs, still in her pyjamas with dresses strewn against all that they can. Her arms are folded and a pout lines her lips, and Yoongi knows that, despite all that had just left him worried, he could never scold his baby, for her little face prompts laughter to fall from his tongue.“Yes, angel?”“Kkul likes this one but I like this one. Appa which one?” She points to two dresses before her, one corduroy with little ducks lining the waist, navy and sweet and perhaps Yoongi’s favourite. His mother bought it whilst they were away, a small family holiday beside the sea and he can’t quite ever forget how Yuri’s face lit up at the lap of waves against her toes, giggles and squeals as he picked her up with salt lining their skin and all that ailed him had found its brief yet welcome falter. “Angel, wear the one you’d like. Kkul will like both, I’m sure.” Yoongi bends to hold the pinafore dress up, brass buckles at its sleeves and neatly pleated. “I’ll find you a shirt to wear under this, alright? You’ll get cold. You can also wear that cardigan your halmoni bought you, can’t you? They look pretty together.”Yuri huffs through a small nod, picking up what dresses line the floor and placing them on her bed. “I’m wearing that one.” She tells Kkul, leaving Yoongi to bite down a smile. She’s a pup who airs her thoughts to all those who dare listen and Kkul is never an exception, and as Yoongi finds a white shirt for her to wear, he gently lays it beside her, pressing a petal-soft kiss to her forehead before leaving to let her dress. He returns with a cup of water in hand, Yuri’s lips in a small pout as she whines about the buttons, the pinafore unable to be fastened by her little fingers, but Yoongi’s quick to sit on her bed in what space lies without clothes bunched in discarded bundles.“Let me button it, angel.” Yoongi gently moves her before him, deft hands buttoning up navy fabric and before she can pull away, she’s quickly tugged up on his knee, cheeks baring peppered kisses leaving her to erupt in sweet giggles. If Yoongi could string all that comprises the world just for her, he would, ensuring all that shrouds her life is divine and gentle, for love can’t quite come close to what he holds for her, simply his entirety. He wishes that every moment he breathes, he could be with her, leading her through all that is yet to come but he can’t as his business remains ever-growing— all to leave her with a golden future— yet he wonders just if that prospect has left time with her to dwindle, for these moments now seem so scarce.“We’re meeting Ji— your seonsaengnim in that field you like. The ones with the purple flowers.” Yoongi hums, Yuri’s head slumped against his neck as she toys with the wooden buttons that line his cardigan. “Do you want me to make your hair pretty?” His voice is cotton-soft as she snuggles closer, and it’s times such as these that he wishes he could give it all up just to watch her grow before his eyes.He feels her shake her head, a small hum clinging to parted lips, and whilst Yoongi knows what lines her tongue, he also knows that tangles find their form in her car seat. “I want seonsaengnim to.” She mumbles, nose grazing her father’s neck in comfort. “Will you let me tie it quickly? I don’t want it to get tangled. Then your seonsaengnim can make it pretty, angel.” He draws lines down her spine, a soothing motion leaving little sighs to fall. “Mhm.”And so, Yoongi gently pries her from his grasp, letting her quickly clamber off of his lap to retrieve two hair ties. Delicate movements part her hair in two, elastic woven around thin strands as she kicks her feet and softly wiggles, excitement lining her veins. “You’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you? Are you ready to leave?” “Yes, appa.” She all but jumps off of him, a little stumble prompting Yoongi to quickly catch her, yet it leaves nothing more than sweet laughter to shroud him in serenity, and he wonders just if today may be all he could ever wish for— that Yuri may find just what comfort Yoongi seeks within the sweet omega. Yet Yoongi isn’t quite ready to part from his little girl, residing in what moments the weekend holds just that bit longer as she stands beside him, her hand clutched within Yoongi’s own and mumbling all of what she hopes the day will bring, and secretly, Yoongi holds those same wants. And now, as he settles her into her car seat, he lets himself believe that what stars reside above will finally align and that what future he so desperately aches for will fall to fruition. A future with Jimin teaching his pup all that she needs to know— all that Yoongi himself can never quite master— and both finding solace; someone to finally lean on. It’s warm in what semblance of sun settles, that ever-tender glow against rosy cheeks, and whilst Yoongi silently reprimands himself for forgetting a blanket— toying with the thought of quickly returning home to salvage their afternoon— Jimin’s never far behind. He holds a small basket in his palm, eyes just that little hesitant before meeting Yoongi’s gaze, and as Yuri spots him, he can’t quite will her to settle against his thighs in patience. So she runs, sweet giggles and perhaps an even sweeter air shrouding them as Jimin lets her bound into his grasp, undeterred by her force as she clings to his waist, for he could never wish to see her anything less than happy. She holds it in spades, the kind of distilled glee leaving smiles to tug at even those that are most despondent— childish and innocent and simply beautiful— and as Yoongi’s own smile tugs at his cheeks, Jimin sees Yuri’s hope mirrored just that little within his gaze.“Hello, Yuri-yah! How are you?” Jimin giggles, unfolding a blanket from beneath his arm and prompting small gratitudes to tumble from Yoongi’s tongue— truly the perfect mate, his alpha calls. “I’m good!” She wastes little time settling before him, small fingers tugging at cardigan sleeves as her eyes turn pleading. “Can you make my hair pretty? Please?” It’s honey-laced and pouted, a trait learned from her father, Jimin gathers, yet Yoongi’s eyes turn that little more apologetic as Yuri all but climbs into Jimin’s lap.“Sorry. She’s been wanting you to plait her hair all morning.” It falls with a strained puff of laughter, one coiling delicate warmth within Jimin’s chest. His heart flutters but in the same breath, he knows what lines Yoongi’s days comprise of exhaustion.“Of course, I will.” And as Jimin smiles, lips sweetly parted and eyes gentle crescents, Yoongi begins to feel that little more whole. Jimin couldn’t be kinder to his baby— could never treat her more delicately and never give her what grace others seem to fall short of— and it’s this that leaves his veins to ignite in tender affection, for no one else has quite come close to capturing the heart of his daughter and his own, in turn.Yoongi is the one to take out what ties her hair, little tangles finding their feet despite precautions, but as Jimin turns to brush it— princess brush in hand— she settles, scent shrouding her in distilled comfort that Yoongi never knew she missed. It’s warm and assuring and leaves his heart to thrum, watching Jimin’s delicate fingers braid her hair in two and sealed with a petal-soft praise. She hums as trimmed nails graze her scalp, scent sweetening just that little more with each breath that parts, and if Yoongi didn’t think that their scents spelled home, he’d be a man concealing all that his alpha yearns for. The smoulder of an open flame and honeyed tuberose, that sanctuary born by what rain blankets the Earth with the ripest peach, and as Jimin finishes— Yuri’s nose finding rest against Jimin’s neck as little legs draw up— Yoongi has perhaps never borne witness to a sight more right. His family strung before him, an omega to finally breathe life into his lungs and give his pup all she could ever need, and whilst Jimin’s eyes turn apologetic, Yoongi’s quick to dispel fears, simply grateful Yuri finds just what comfort Jimin provides him.“Oh, I— I know you said not to bring anything, but I was baking last night and had too many apples left over so I made a pie. I had a bit of time so I wanted to make something for today, I hope it’s okay. I brought a knife and some plates too so don’t worry about that. It’ll be warm, it might have cooled but I thought that—” And what smile tugs at Yoongi’s cheeks, gum-lined and baring sweet little teeth, leaves Jimin’s breath to stammer against his tongue and worries to find their dissolution. Words now lead-lined at the sight, an alpha impossibly divine and he knows he perhaps shouldn’t, but it prompts him to fall just that bit harder for very man before him.“Yuri-yah, your seonsaengnim made you an apple pie. You were telling me the other day how you’d like him to maybe make you one, weren’t you?” Yoongi hums, cheeks reddening with each breath that finds its shaky part, and as her eyes widen, a small gasp parts her lips, turning to draw her arms around Jimin’s neck.“You’re my most favourite person.” She giggles, cotton-soft and muffled by its graze at what cardigan lines Jimin’s frame, and whilst Jimin mouths a small apology to Yoongi, he simply shakes his head, fondness unfaltering as he finally begins to believe that what lines the horizon is all that leaves dreams bittersweet. Yet with Jimin holding his daughter oh-so-gently, he knows it’s an existence he’d never trade— one he’d move heaven and Earth to forever hold in his palm.Saccharine apple lines their tongues, slightly tart and pastry-laced as thick custard leaves teeth sticky. It’s just that little warm from when Jimin had heated it up, staving off what chill lines the air— autumn’s breeze shrouding them as leaves find their amber turn— and if Yoongi could reside in what giggles tumble from parted lips, he’d be a man holding the world in his grasp, for he could never dare to part with all that Jimin is, woven so intrinsically into his life and settling much-needed reprieve in every breath. His words are lined with affection, fondness, questions of how Yoongi fairs each morning, and what honey-lined words tumble are ones extended to Yuri— never another’s care Yoongi would trust more for her to lie in.“Angel, your seonsaengnim wanted to maybe ask you a question but you’ll have to be a big girl, okay?” Yoongi’s voice deepens, that alpha-rich timbre she has come to understand as one yielding all that lies serious. His eyes turn that little more commanding, and perhaps if nerves didn’t set Jimin’s veins ablaze, he’d giggle at Yoongi’s demeanour, yet in the same breath, it leaves him just that little weak.Jimin swallows what leaves his tongue leaden, syrup-lined saliva thick behind aching teeth, so after a drawn-out breath to soothe what nerves dare to settle, that gilded question lines his tongue. “You— you know how your appa and I are friends?” He begins with Yuri still tucked within his hold, and she nods, a sweet giggle falling as her eyes hold a knowing glint, nose scrunching just as Yoongi’s does, hands clutching around Jimin’s fingers. “And you know how you call me ‘seonsaengnim’ when we are at school?”“Mhm.” She nods once more, what little strands never quite found their weave into sweet plaits tumble against rose-dusted cheeks.“Would you like to call me something else when we’re not at school? You have to promise me you can only call me this when we’re not at school, alright?” Jimin’s voice softens, akin to the faintest breath of winter finding its feet, the kind to spell tenderness and warmth grazing the horizon. After another nod, a little more excited now, Jimin can’t quite bite down his smile. “My name is Jimin, but would you like to call me Minnie?”“Minnie!” She echoes, voice tooth-achingly sweet as her eyes turn to little more than crescents.“Yuri-yah, you can only call him Minnie outside of school. At school, he is your seonsaengnim.” Yoongi reiterates, his voice just that bit firmer yet she never turns to him, simply nodding as her smile remains unfaltering. “M-Minnie… did you go on an um… a date with appa on Friday?” She asks, little fingers rolling loose cotton between them, deep brown from Jimin’s cardigan, and he can’t quite help but tug the fabric around her small frame as she gently shivers now that it begins to turn just that bit colder.And Jimin could perhaps never bite down what flush lines his cheeks, a smile tugging at rose-petal lips as a giggle tumbles. “I did.”“Oh!” Yuri quickly stands, leaving confusion to settle against Jimin’s as Yuri runs off. Yet Yoongi simply laughs, eyes ever-fond as they rest against Jimin. In their brief moment of solitude, tension strings between them but it’s welcome, one born out of fragile hesitancy and what affection seems never to halt. His alpha could never be more pleased, Yoongi is quite certain, watching his pup sink into Jimin’s hold; a man who holds an unwavering devotion to both him and Yuri, and he knows whilst the journey may be arduous as it lies ahead, it’s one he’d forever wish to traverse with Jimin beside him.Yuri returns with a sweet giggle, eyes crinkled and nose following suit, a perfect vision of her father sitting at her side, and as she holds a lilac flower between little fingers for Jimin to hold, she can’t quite contain her excitement, that little more aware of her father’s affection for her teacher. So with petals in hand, she hums a little song, once more clambering against Jimin’s thighs as her nose tucks against his neck. She could never know just why comfort shrouds her, a scent different to her father’s— softer, sweeter, the kind to tug her that little closer— but it satiates her in the way her father’s never quite does, and in turn, it never quite spells that same familiarity like Yoongi’s own.“It’s for you, Minnie.” Yuri mumbles as she tucks the flower behind his ear, little pats with her palm ensuring its stability before she settles. And as Jimin holds her tighter, giggles once more find their feet, and neither needs to let their gazes turn to Yoongi, for his scent spells all his tongue never quite lays bare. It’s thick and wood-rich, slightly saccharine with adoration for his pup and the man he’s hopelessly falling for, little by little— further with every breath that finds its part. Perhaps it’s careless, to fall so hard for another with a child placing their faith in what they so delicately craft, but somehow it feels ever-right, and Yoongi isn’t quite sure he could envisage a life any different, for he’s beginning to believe that Jimin’s place has always been within their little family.“Thank you Yuri-yah, you really are so kind.”“You look pretty, Minnie! Doesn’t he look pretty, appa?”
Jimin’s cheeks flush crimson, lip tugged between his teeth as Yoongi’s own part to a wide smile. “He does. Very beautiful— just as always.”Whilst words never follow, Jimin’s eyes spell all that would string between them. Gratitude, shyness, what Yoongi has come to simply adore, yet such tender moments seem hasty with Yuri beside them, quick to beg to play, wanting to let what fuel now lines her lungs off. Jimin does, Yoongi watching despite Yuri’s pleas, but his bones ache from what demands fatherhood line his frame and Jimin could never ask for more. So as Yuri pouts, Jimin picks her up, tickling her sides leaving her to squirm in his hold and all is forgotten just as quickly as it began, giggles carried by autumn’s delicate breeze as Jimin chases Yuri whose squeals remain saccharine. She runs, little legs moving fast and Jimin can’t quite dare to catch up, not as laughter seems boundless and wildflowers find their trample, but just as she jumps over a fallen branch— the rubber toe of her shoe just lightly clipping it— time seems to halt as she tumbles.Despite Yoongi’s rise, Jimin quickly picks her up, just before what flurry of tears flood down heated cheeks. She sobs with little else to soothe her than Jimin’s palm gently guiding her nose to his neck, and as breaths steady— omegan instincts taking charge to shroud her in distilled safety— he holds her that little tighter, petal-soft assurances tumbling from his tongue. They’re strained but settle comfort within Yuri’s veins as he places her over his knee, and as she nuzzles closer, soft whimpers fall. “It— it hurts… it hurts Minnie…” She sniffles, little hiccups marring what sobs still cling to her lips. Her knee is grazed, bloodied and her little hands to follow, and it leaves Jimin’s heart to break just that little. From the joy of playing so sweetly and now she lies in his grasp wounded. But Yoongi is quick to retreat to the car, all but running to find a salve and a bandage for her grazes.“Your appa will clean it, alright? He’s just getting something to wipe it with. You’re such a brave girl, Yuri-yah. So brave.” He coos, holding her little palms within his hands, grazed and bloodied, dirt-laden and tender, and as he purrs, she calms, seeking comfort within his assuring hold. He turns to her knee, that little more crimson, scraped and bruised and impossibly sore, and as he meets teary eyes, his heart shatters just that bit more.“M-Minnie— hurts….” It falls desperate, a pained mumble prompting Jimin to draw her nose back to his neck, scent thick and soothing as she settles. Yet it could never be enough, not as autumn’s chill leaves her skin to sting and hiccups never halt, so he cups little cheeks with delicate palms and wipes what tears find their fall, waiting for Yoongi’s quick return.He takes little time stumbling beside them, and as Yoongi kneels against damp grass with a small bag in his grasp, she holds out her palms, little hisses as the steriliser turns piercing, but as Jimin’s hold never relents, perhaps it all feels that little easier to bear. Yoongi wipes her grazes, bandaging each one with a feather-soft kiss as praises are never far from tongues, eyes laden with concern as Jimin’s gaze mirrors his own.“No more running, alright Yuri-yah?” Jimin hums, palm brushing back what strands have found their fall against her sweat-lined forehead, and as she nods, she sinks that little further into Jimin’s hold, mumbled whines all that seem to tumble from pouted lips.“Are you alright now, angel?” Yoongi’s question is cotton-shrouded, and as she nods, words never falter, perhaps what sadness lines her veins that bit too much for her little mind to handle. But Jimin’s scent soothes her more than Yoongi could ever have expected; nose pressed firm to his neck, purrs finding their feet as they cling to her throat, and whilst he knows he shouldn’t think it, it’s all that seems to line his mind— that Jimin truly is meant to be.“I’ll just put this back in the car, I left it unlocked and…” Yoongi’s words fall as a whisper, undaring to break what fragile sanctuary Yuri resides in.“Of course, I’ll stay with her.” And as Yoongi leaves, all but running to his opened car, Jimin tugs Yuri that little closer, voice dropping to the faintest whisper. “If I sing to you, will that make you feel better, Yuri-yah?” He asks, watching as the beginnings of a wet smile tug at crimson-blotched cheeks.As a sweet chorus falls, petal-soft and little more than a hushed song, Yuri’s eyes find their reprieve. She nuzzles close, fingers balled around delicate cotton, her hums ever-gentle against Jimin’s timbre, and it spells a distilled serenity she could perhaps reside in forever. His voice is honey-warm and golden and leaves her frame heavy, sleep-laced as fatigue draws her under, and whilst neither hears Yoongi return— standing behind watching Jimin cradle and sing to his baby— his scent all but signals his presence. Yet Yuri never stirs and Jimin never halts, a soothing sway side-to-side as her breath evens and fatigue takes its fragile hand. Jimin never sees tears line Yoongi’s eyes, staving off what seems to will to fall, and he never sees just what smile leaves cheeks to ache as his gaze never finds its reprieve from what sight spells home, its weight simply too heavy to bear leaving lips to quiver. A love unlike any other is all that he holds for his blooming family, newborn and housing tentative sanctuary, and as his alpha yearns to draw Jimin closer— to have him settle firmly into their lives— he knows time will simply tell just whether Jimin truly wishes to call their little family his own.Yoongi sits beside them, that little closer now, and as Jimin halts, Yuri stirs, mumbling a small ‘appa’ leaving Yoongi’s fingers to graze the soft round of her cheek. Jimin’s smile is warm, the kind that winters yearn for to stave off what lines bones aching, and Yoongi can’t quite bite down his own that blooms in response, unable to quite grasp just how lucky he feels. “Yuri-yah, are you tired?” Yoongi’s voice lines a croon, still concern woven through his irises for his little pup. She nods, fingers clutching just that little tighter around Jimin’s cardigan, nose pressed firm to his skin and her eyes heavy-lidded, exhaustion thick against her small frame. “Should we get you home?” Jimin asks, words perhaps more to Yoongi yet Yuri simply shakes her head, a hum clinging to her tongue.“You can’t sleep here, angel.”“Wan’ Minnie to come.” She all but mumbles, lips unable to round vowels leaving what pouted lisp she holds to fall that little more pronounced. “You’re more than welcome to if you’d like. I— I don’t want you to feel as if you have to but…” Yoongi’s words never quite find their finality, gentle hope strewn through his irises as his own lips mirror his daughter’s, pouted and uncertain. Yet Jimin’s scent seems to bloom before them, a delicate smile tugging at rose-flushed cheeks and eyes never quite leaving Yuri’s frame, just wanting the pup he’s so ardently come to love as his own to feel alright.“I’ll come. I don’t do much at home and… and I want to be sure she’s alright. She had a nasty fall….” And nothing else is quite needed as Yoongi simply knows, seeing the omega having taken to his pup— a sight he never knew would ever ring true— and as he smiles, warmth tints his veins golden, that finally all he has ever wished for lines his tender grasp. — Yoongi sighs, one he never quite knew he had held until it left his lungs to all but choke, a moment of respite from what day has turned stress-laden. But Jimin’s small knock at the door spells relief, sweet eyes rounded and lips tugged into a delicate smile, and before Yoongi’s gaze finds its rest against what lines Jimin’s arms, he lets himself fall into the omega’s hold just that little, breathing in the scent he’s so ardently longed for. Yuri’s tucked in bed, palms clean and knees rid of what dried against them, and whilst she whined at Jimin’s absence, assurances never halted until her eyes fluttered closed, Kkul keeping her company.“Is Yuri alright?” Jimin asks, nose lightly grazing Yoongi’s jaw, and as he nods, he stills, eyes trained on what Jimin quickly bought. “I um… I bought these for you and Yuri.” He holds up an ever-sweet bouquet of red roses and blushed peonies, baby’s breath tinting ivory and lilies much the same, and as Yoongi takes it from Jimin’s grasp, he can’t help his cheeks dust crimson. “I thought you might like some wine— I hope you’re alright with Merlot.” Jimin adds, trailing Yoongi as he leads the path to the kitchen.Yet Yoongi’s gratitude never tumbles from his tongue, instead, he places the bouquet against the kitchen bench before his lips line Jimin’s own. It’s soft, palpably sweet and more divine than Yoongi could ever imagine, simply holding the gentle omega in his grasp— a man he’s so carelessly fallen for— as he’s shrouded in what scent he’s come to adore. So he lets thick fingers weave through silkened strands, toying with what grazes Jimin’s nape leaving a smile to tug at rose-tinted cheeks, and as they part, what stills between them seems ever-lasting, a moment that they could both reside in until their dying breaths.“I know that she doesn’t need any more stuffed toys but I couldn’t help myself. She seems to take Kkul everywhere and I— I felt bad seeing her hurt. Poor baby was so upset. Is she alright now?”Yoongi nods, a small rumble clinging to his tongue as he dips for another kiss— that little more chaste. “She’s fast asleep now. You really are so good with her— she adores you, Jimin-ah.”Jimin smiles, something most warm and heady and to Yoongi, perhaps no sight could lie as sweetly. “She’s an angel. She looks just like you. Her eyes, her smile…” Jimin draws his palm up, a feather-light touch grazing Yoongi’s lips, yet as Yoongi shakes his head, a smile finds its rest against them.“Poor thing. But she does. Sometimes it’s like looking into a mirror.”Jimin giggles, sweet and distilled and simply perfect, and as Yoongi tugs him closer, Jimin never wavers, his palm now finding rest against his cheek. “She’s a pretty little girl and she has a very handsome father who, I know, loves her with all he has.” And as eyes lie against each other in sincerity, lips tug at corners and palms never find their withdrawal, and both could never have believed their lives would feel so complete— so whole. They spend a while such as this with noses finding their way to the juncture of their necks and kisses that follow, and as their scents bloom— both that little scent-dazed— Yoongi pulls back with a delicate smile.“I’ll make you tea, yeah? Or a coffee?”“Tea would be nice, thank you hyung.”Yet Yoongi can’t quite part from Jimin, a palm pressed firm against his spine as he draws him further into the kitchen, all but caging him against the surface. He quickly boils a kettle, two bags of tea lining porcelain mugs, and soon his palms trace Jimin’s waist, soft motions lulling him further into the alpha’s hold. “You know, she won’t stop calling you Minnie now,” Yoongi says through a honey-laced chuckle, lips nipping at Jimin’s jaw. “She kept asking where you were in the car.”“It’s alright if she slips up at school.” Jimin hums, eyes ever-fond as Yoongi suddenly stiffens, concern woven against deep irises.“Would the school be alright with this? You and me— Yuri… you teaching her.” Jimin nods, a small puff of laughter tumbling from his tongue, rounded and sweet and shrouds Yoongi in serenity. “They will. The teacher of the class above teaches her little pup so it should be fine. I shouldn’t have to tell anyone who I’m dating anyway—” Yet as his eyes widen and scent sours, that little burnt in his throat, Jimin all but curls in on himself for fear he may have ruined all he has so ardently longed for.Yoongi’s sigh seems strained, fond yet wavered and does little to soothe Jimin’s nerves whose tongue rounds against cotton-soft apologies, but they’re quickly halted as Yoongi’s palm grazes his flushed cheek. “We don’t have to call it anything but I’m happy if you want to call it that— more than happy actually. I’m not looking for anyone else, Jimin-ah— just you. I don’t make it a habit of courting pretty little omegas.”And Jimin smiles, a soft, delicate thing only mirrored by Yoongi’s own lips. It’s a little fond and teasing, a gentle taunt against his tongue yet he never lets it find its fall— not now. “I’d— I’d like to if you’re alright with it. But I worry about Yuri. I don’t want to become a fixture in her life outside of school and things end up not working out. It’s all so new… really new. But I feel drawn to you in a way I can’t quite explain.” Jimin’s voice draws to little more than a whisper, as if baring the most tender confessions to line his tongue, and as Yoongi’s gaze turns equally as soft, Jimin knows his heart could never be in safer hands.As milk weakens tea, Yoongi hands a mug into Jimin’s waiting grasp, sealed with the beginnings of a smile. “I get your concern, I’m a little hesitant too. But I’ve been around long enough to know when things may work and when they won’t, and if I had reservations I wouldn’t be standing here with you right now and I definitely wouldn’t have invited you to come with us this afternoon— I just hope you feel the same. We’ve known each other for a while now, you’ve been so good with her and done more than I could’ve ever asked of you. Even if the meetings were brief I— I fell for you even before this, Jimin-ah. It isn’t as if we’re complete strangers and you’re certainly not with Yuri.” And as his eyes flit to fingers tugging at what cotton lines his frame, what follows tumbles just that little softer. “I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”“I… I feel the same, hyung.” Jimin manages, a small stammer as his cheeks darken. “But I worry about her seeing things.”Yet Yoongi’s laughter is gentle, the kind of distilled warmth penned by summer’s waning hand, and as he takes a sip of his tea, his smile never falters. “She’s fine to see us kiss. I’ve only ever wanted her to grow up surrounded by love in whatever way. I love her, and I can really see myself falling in love with you.” Those final words fall just that little softer, akin to the faintest whisper, perhaps that bit uncertain of what response lines Jimin’s tongue, but his cheeks only seem to redden as a stammer rounds his lips. “And you don’t need to respond to that either, Jimin-ah. It’s early and new for us both, but I don’t like to hide my emotions— I want to be truthful. I want to teach Yuri that it’s alright to cry, to be happy, to be angry, to love without fear… I just want her to live.”“You’re a good father, hyung. And— and I can too… I can see myself falling for you. I think I already am.” The words are sealed with the press of their lips, fingers trailing down waists and spines and shrouding them in all they could ever wish for— the beginnings of the most tender love finding its sweet bloom. They settle against well-worn sofas, warm beneath their frames with bodies sinking into plush fabric, and as Yoongi tugs Jimin closer, he can’t quite bite down what petal-soft rumble clings to his tongue. So Jimin reaches for the remote, turning the TV on for gentle noise to mask what leaves their chests lighter— little purrs never halting as Yoongi’s nose finds place against his jaw, lips following in sweet little kisses— and as Yuri’s cartoons play, laughter strings between them. Yoongi’s quick to turn it over to something more mundane, a cooking show he’s perhaps seen more times to count as nights lay sleepless and little else than the drone of voices would keep him company, but now, Jimin simply rests his head against his shoulder, soft puffs of heat falling from parted lips as Yoongi’s fingers tug at delicate strands. Yet it’s a moment shortlived, for Yoongi turns that little bolder— chastity still lining their frames— as he feathers a touch beneath Jimin’s chin, leaving lips to turn to lips in the most divine kiss. Tongues never part what obscures them as sighs and hums follow, leaving Jimin’s palm to draw to Yoongi’s cheek in comfort, small grazes with the pad of his thumb against the now-flushed round. And so, as time stalls between them, Yoongi tugs Jimin closer, a small whine from parted lips prompting slight embarrassment, yet Yoongi could never find it anything less than sweet. As they pull back— breathlessness leaving their lungs to smoulder— Jimin dips to press his nose to Yoongi’s scent gland. Perhaps it’s that little too intimate as Yoongi sighs, head thrown back and eyes fluttering closed, fingers finding their rest at Jimin’s scalp as the omega simply takes all that he needs in comfort. But it’s a moment quickly halted as the soft patter of little soles against marble tiles leaves them to part, eyes wide and cheeks oh-so-sweetly flushed, and for a brief second they both wonder if Yuri ever saw what tenderness took hold.“Appa?” She calls, her little voice stringing a tired chorus through the hall, never quite reaching the living room. “M-Minnie?” She turns that bit more desperate, leaving Jimin’s heart to falter at hearing her soft whines.“In the living room, angel,” Yoongi calls, a slight lilt in his tone. Ever the man simply taken by his daughter, willing to do anything to see her smile.As the gentle pad of feet turns louder— quicker— all but running into the room, neither could ever quite prepare themselves for Yuri to jump against Jimin. Her eyes are wide and her lips bear her father’s gummy smile, and Jimin is quick to lift her up before settling her over his knee to delicate giggles.“Minnie!” She says, little arms wrapped around him as she sweetly purrs. A sound never unnoticed by her father, leaving his cheeks a gentle shade of crimson. He never dwells on it yet it’s a sound he hears more that Jimin’s beside them, perhaps the one to teach her what pup-laden happiness can bear, or maybe— he distantly wonders— if Jimin’s omega is the one to draw out what lies dormant within her.“Did you sleep well? You’re not sore after your fall, are you?” Jimin asks, his voice a soothe, a tender palm brushing back sleep-tousled hair. She shakes her head, a little hum from pursed lips as she settles in his hold, seeking the scent she’s grown to adore— simply Jimin. “Appa says I don’t need naps now I’m a big girl, but I get tired.” She mumbles, lips tugging at the collar of Jimin’s shirt and her voice falling that little softer now. “You’re here.”Yet Yoongi laughs, a small, strained thing as he shakes his head. “I did not say that.” He says in slight disbelief at the gentle accusation. So Jimin smiles, understanding never wavering from his gaze as Yuri shuffles in his hold, turning over the TV to her favourite cartoon. He knows it when her eyes never leave the screen, head slightly turned from his neck as her breath evens, and as her scent sweetens— the unmistakable milky linger of pup with the most gentle wash of honeyed orange blossoms— he knows she could never feel safer. Yoongi moves with a delicate touch, a whisper that he’ll just get what little bear Jimin had bought her leaving the omega’s cheeks to heat in a rosy tint.Yoongi is quick to return, stalling just behind them to watch his pup simply reside in the comfort of the omega he’s falling so deeply for. An affection he’s never quite felt— the intrinsic yearning for Jimin to take place beside him in the family, and only spurred on each time he sees his daughter seek his comfort. He passes the little bear to Jimin, arms outstretched and movements delicate, Yuri never quite seeing all that happens around her, but as Jimin’s voice oh-so-delicately calls her name, her head turns with eyes expectant.“Yuri-yah, I bought you something. It’s why I didn’t come home with you and your appa.” He explains, handing her the teddy. It’s small, eyes wide and nose protruding, tanned fur soft to touch with a little lilac bow around its neck, and as she holds it in her grasp, what gasp falls is ever-sweet, her lips parting and fingers toying with its fur. “Thank you, Minnie!” She says, tugging the small bear close as she turns to hug Jimin. Her hold is tight, small purrs clinging to her tongue as her smile never quite falters and it’s perhaps this that leaves Yoongi’s scent to thicken— his family, he thinks.“You’ll have to think of a name, angel.” He lets fall, what words line his lips are ones never quite daring to tumble.She hums, a small pout replacing what giggle-lined smile just tugged at her cheeks, and the little bear now tucked beneath her chin. “But I want to call him Minnie after Minnie, but I can only have one Minnie and that’s you.” And both Jimin and Yoongi bite down that laughter that aches to fall, absolutely taken by Yoongi’s sweet pup. She’s a bright girl with the world at her feet, yet one both can’t quite help but yearn to protect. She’s gentle, heart so tender and eyes equally as so, and as Jimin lets a palm cup her cheek, Yuri giggles.“What about Mimi? Is that close enough?” Yuri nods, a soft yet hasty thing as her cheeks bloom beneath the weight of her smile.“Yes! Minnie and Mimi. Can you kiss him, Minnie? He wants you to kiss him.”So, with eyes turned to Yoongi for assurance who nods bearing a delicate smile, Jimin does, kissing the little bear’s nose leaving the sweetest giggles to fall. “There. Is he happy?” Jimin asks, his voice petal-soft in that way that settles heat within Yoongi’s core. It’s never wanton, simply the want for Jimin as his own and it finds its flicker within his veins as he watches every movement that shrouds her— Jimin never harsh, woven from an intrinsic omegan gentleness that leaves Yoongi’s alpha to yearn for more.And as Yuri brings little Mimi’s face up to her ear, she giggles, nodding as she moves it. Neither could ever be fonder, they both think, watching with a delicate gaze as Yuri finds refuge within Jimin’s hold. Her little nose once more pressed to his neck— scent impossibly sweet as soft purrs line Yuri’s chest— and as Yoongi’s palm draws to Jimin’s arm, he squeezes in gentle assurance.“Do you want to stay for dinner?” Yoongi asks through a whisper, never loud enough for Yuri to hear should Jimin decline. But Jimin’s eyes simply widen as a blush tints his cheeks, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as Yuri’s attention once more turns to the cartoon ahead.“Is that alright?”And Yoongi’s smile is divine, Jimin thinks, warm and soft and impossibly safe. An alpha born through life’s experiences, that little older and commanding yet still as gentle as ever, and leaves it Jimin’s omega to all but whine at the simple prospect that one day, he might be his. “Of course. I promise I’ll cook it this time.” It falls with a small puff of laughter, shrouding them both in distilled comfort, and as Yoongi shuffles that little closer, his hand finds its welcome place discreetly entwined within Jimin’s own.So, as attention on the TV wanes, they find small comfort beside each other. Yoongi’s head slumps just that little against Jimin’s shoulder, fingers tightening in a delicate squeeze, and scents so sweetly blooming, for he has all he could ever wish for; a love distilled and unblemished, his pup who he’d move heaven and Earth to see smile, and an omega who he’s certain he could never be worthy of, yet he doesn’t quite know that Jimin would do all that it takes to show him that he truly does. — The days seem achingly sombre without the other, texts strung between them leaving lips to tug and cheeks to sweetly flush, brief moments as Yuri stays behind that little later, meetings seemingly never-ending, and as Friday finds its feet, so, too, does some time alone together. Yoongi can’t quite wait for the clock to signal his departure, hair that little dishevelled and eyes housing ink-laden smudges beneath them, yet at the prospect of spending a night alone with the omega who he’s simply fallen for, he could never feel brighter. It’s how his lips tug and eyes glimmer, akin to what stars string Orion above during lonely nights, and as he blushes— scent impossibly sweet and heady— Yoongi is quite certain he falls that little harder with every breath that dares to part, for he could never find a man he’s found unwavering comfort within, he thinks; none quite like Jimin. So as lights flicker past his gaze, his exhales fall shaky, a gentle hum seemingly impatient as time crawls against fatigue-lined skin, but familiarity soon leaves him as he enters what part of his own neighbourhood rarely ventured to, familiarity he’d all but give up just to spend a night with Jimin.He’s quick to arrive at Jimin’s apartment after work, perhaps that little worse for wear, but Jimin’s eyes house what his tongue never quite spells aside from delicate greetings. It’s woven through an embrace, an unspoken I’ve missed you lining their tongues yet never dares to falter, and as lips turn to lips, Yoongi sighs into what serenity shrouds him in spades, simply stilling in what moment stalls time within Jimin’s arms.“Is Yuri with your friends?” Jimin asks, that little hesitantly as if uncertain as to what line he can delicately cross, but as Yoongi’s lips tug into a petal-soft smile— palm drawn to his cheek as a finger traces its gentle curve— what brief tension settled in his veins finds its dissolution. “She is. Seokjin hyung and Namjoon-ie have her. They love her— she’ll be spoiled rotten.” And it’s laced with a slight giggle, tired and wavered yet safe, and as Jimin tugs him into his apartment, Yoongi’s hold never quite wanes, broad palm finding its rest against his waist.“You’ll— you’ll have to excuse me, it’s small and… not like what you’re used to.” Apprehension lines Jimin’s tongue but Yoongi could never mind, simply spending an evening with the man he’s learned to call his home is more than enough, he thinks. So his hold firms and lips press to Jimin’s temple, lingering that little longer before a whisper follows.“It’s perfect, Jimin-ah. I don’t mind about any of those things— you know that. Just spending time with you… it’s all I could ever need. We’ll have a good night, won’t we? Just us— alone.” It falls a little gravelled, hoarse and alpha-thick leaving Jimin’s heart to flutter against all that dares to confine it, and he nods, a soft, delicate thing as gentle assertion tumbles from Yoongi’s lips. “Anything you want to do? I’ll do anything you want, Jimin-ah.”“I— I wanted to cook for you. I really can’t cook but I wanted to try and learn for you…” He’s a little bashful in his reply, cheeks flushed crimson and eyes averted, yet Yoongi tugs him closer all the same and kisses parted lips, unable to bite down what smile lines his own. “S-sorry—”“Don’t be, hm? I’ll help. We can do it together, yeah? You can tell me what you want me to do and I’ll help you.” Yoongi lets his palm linger, fingers fluttering against tender skin in silent assurance leaving purrs to cling to Jimin’s tongue. “What were you going to make us?” He asks, voice never raising.“Creamed chicken and pasta.” Jimin’s voice tumbles to a hum, a sweet lilt woven through as Yoongi pulls him that little closer, nose grazing his jaw leaving Jimin to gently bare his neck in soft submission that Yoongi gladly takes. He holds it in the palm of his hand, a delicate kiss to his scent gland, nose drawing languid lines down his throat in a heady scenting, soothing what restlessness is born through apprehension. The new dawn of love strings between them to leave hearts to stammer and thoughts never halting, but Yoongi’s breath is warm against his skin, Jimin soft and pliant within his grasp and simply at Yoongi’s every command, and perhaps neither could envision a sweeter place to be.“Let me help you then, alright? Pretty omega.” Yoongi all but coos, teeth grazing just that little above Jimin’s scent gland leaving honeyed peach to bloom beneath his tongue. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight, just us— no one else.”And as kisses turn ever-sweet, lips tugging at cheeks and eyes housing distilled sincerity, time stills between them until stomachs begin to sound. “Lead the way, Jimin-ah. I’m here as you need me.” Yoongi says, a sweet lilt woven through his timbre.So they do, standing side by side as vegetables are sliced and chicken simmered, kisses never far from parted lips leaving smiles and giggles to follow, and as dinner is served against a small corner table with knees bumping knees, Yoongi has perhaps never quite felt serenity like it. Little candles string between them, vanilla-scented and impossibly sweet, ones Jimin had insisted on lighting as Yoongi tended to the pasta, and as they found their rest against secondhand chairs, Yoongi never dared to let his eyes falter from what leaves Jimin’s cheeks cast in a delicate amber glow, eyes glimmering and smile just that little more divine. So they reside in gentle silence, little else than the sound of cutlery against glass-stained plates, the world seemingly insignificant as what lines their eyes spell what tongues never lay bare— how nothing has ever felt quite as right and how, as their hearts never stall their flutter, what leaves apprehension to lightly fizzle within veins is more than welcome if it leads to perhaps what souls desperately yearn for.As food leaves their stomachs full, hands never leaving waists and noses tugging at jaws, they settle within Jimin’s nest to watch a movie. One never quite heeded as what pull strings between them seems ever-strong, and Yoongi can’t quite help but notice Jimin’s scent bloom beneath his touch, more at ease than ever within the confines of comfort. His nest is scent-drenched and sweet, pillows and blankets fluffed against delicate linen, and as purrs cling to Jimin’s tongue, Yoongi’s touch never wanes from its gentle caress against his cheeks, tracing the lines of his face in a petal-soft path. “I’ve never let anyone in here,” Jimin says, voice the faintest whisper, and it leaves Yoongi’s cheeks to heat in a crimson flush, for an alpha could never be luckier, he thinks.“It’s pretty, sweetheart. It feels safe and warm.” But silence stills as Yoongi speaks, Jimin’s scent spiking with unease, a hesitancy Yoongi wishes would never lie against him. Yet he never pushes, simply letting Jimin’s breath steady and nose find its rest against his neck once more.“Are you okay with me as an omega?” It’s a tentative question that Yoongi bites down a hasty reply to, knowing that Jimin’s heart resides within his palms, tender and delicate— something to cherish. So he lets his lips line Jimin’s scalp, a soft press to spell what falls from his tongue.“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re beautiful. You’re so sweet, Jimin-ah— for more than your subgender. Please believe me when I say you’re perfect just as you are, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I didn’t like your instincts. I never looked for anyone in particular but… I think I was looking in the wrong place. I think everything has led us to you.” Yoongi confesses, gently tugging his love that little closer.A life headstrong, his mother the only omega in his family and perhaps it’s this that led him to draw to those like himself. He chose to find an alpha to care for Yuri, to protect just as he does in turn yet it simply never lasted, and whilst instincts wane with time’s pass, something about Jimin holds his heart, his alpha knowing that nothing could ever harm them. Yuri is safe, protected, loved and cherished just as he could provide but it’s born from softness, an innate gentleness he could never quite know but one she, too, holds in her little palms. “Are you alright with me as an alpha?” Yoongi says after a moment, his fingers drawing lines down the bare skin of Jimin’s spine.“Mhm,” he nods, perhaps that little shyly with cheeks tinted rose and face buried in the juncture of Yoongi’s neck. “I am— more than. I um… I like alphas.”“Yeah? Look at me— Jimin-ah…” Yoongi manages, hold tightening just that little in assurance, and how could Jimin ever protest? So with a sharp inhale, air thick with tension, he withdraws his head and meets Yoongi’s gaze.“Y-yeah… I um… I do.”These words fall whispered and prompt Yoongi to kiss him, soft yet heady, the kind to leave Jimin breathless in the most divine way.“Do you like someone to protect you a little bit, hm? Someone a little older— someone who can treat you right.” And Jimin nods, cheeks flushed with a lip now tugged between his teeth, one to which Yoongi pries back with the pad of his thumb in a cotton-soft touch. “Be yourself with me, alright?” He continues, letting Jimin sink into his delicate hold as purrs take their stance against their tongues. “When it’s just us— no Yuri— lean into it. You don’t know just how happy it makes my alpha to see you like this.” So Jimin does, letting his body slump against Yoongi’s own for a moment, cotton-soft kisses against tender lips and fingertips walking sleep-warm skin. It’s divine, a little piece of sanctuary hand-crafted by Jimin’s own hand, one he readily lets Yoongi submerge himself within to shroud Jimin in what distilled comfort his alpha exudes. It’s warm and heady, a safety unlike any other and oh, how no other could quite compare to Yoongi, Jimin thinks, for he’s simply the man he’s meant to lie beside— love beside— and to hold Yuri makes it all that little sweeter.So kisses leave lips cherry-bitten and just that little swollen, fingers tangling at napes and eyes heavy-lidded, and in the familiar confines of his nest, perhaps it all feels that bit more divine as Jimin’s sounds leave Yoongi just that little weaker. Each cotton-soft whine spurs him on, tongue tracing Jimin’s own as hands trail lower, firm pressure at his waist to tug him between open thighs. But as heady as each breath falls, it never ventures further, simply finding time to submerge themselves in what days apart never lets them indulge in, finally free from hesitancy at what others may see. Jimin feels right in his grasp, Yoongi thinks, scent sweet on his tongue and each touch leaves breathy little sounds to tumble, and he wonders just how he never had the courage to fall for all he’s ever wished. And as the movie plays ahead, it fizzles to little else than white noise with the sweet sound of kisses to mar all that strings before them, both finding much-welcome serenity within the arms of the other, wondering just if what they hold may withstand all that looms before them.Experience leaves Yoongi’s hands to firm, his tongue to prompt breathy sighs to tumble and Jimin just that little more pliant within his grasp. He’s older, stature broader and lips letting part with words that seem that bit more commanding, and as Yoongi tugs Jimin closer between spread thighs, Jimin knows he’s simply at his mercy.“H-hyung,” he manages, mind cotton-clouded as Yoongi’s scent thickens. “Movie.” They briefly pause yet neither pay it much attention, lips on lips seemingly the very oxygen they crave. As hands wander, skin starts to dimple beneath the softest of touches and Jimin can’t quite seem to bite down all that leaves him breathless. “We— we aren’t… we aren’t watching it.”“Hm? Did you want to? We can stop.” Yoongi whispers, each vowel that falls grazing the tip of Jimin’s tongue. But he shakes his head, eyes wide and mouth parted, a little purr tumbling from a whine as Yoongi’s palm rests at his nape, fingers scratching just gently at his scalp. “You’re pretty, Jimin-ah. So pretty and soft and— I can’t stop kissing you.” Yoongi’s words lace with the beginnings of tender laughter, eyes glimmering beneath what amber strings between them and cheeks sweetly flushed, mirroring Jimin’s own that never seem to find reprieve from all that heats them.“You’re handsome, alpha.” Jimin’s hum is delicate, whispered and a little giddy, giggles falling as Yoongi kisses him once more. “Very handsome.” And as kisses turn headier, hands wandering waists and little sighs drawn from Jimin’s tongue, his scent sweetens, that saccharine, delectable turn that Yoongi has only ever had the gentlest of glimpses of. His cheeks are flushed and eyes heavy-lidded, his omega a hair’s breadth from wholly commanding Jimin’s thoughts, so Yoongi pulls back in haste, knowing that whilst he may be more than, Jimin doesn’t quite seem ready for what lies wanton. But a whine follows, those sweet eyes now ever-pleading and so, Yoongi indulges, letting his thumb tug at the sweet omega’s lip. “I— I want to make you something,” Jimin drawls, tongue that bit looser as fatigue turns thick. “Hot chocolate.”“Yeah?” It’s laced with the beginnings of a fond laugh, the kind Jimin has found his place within, warm and safe, solely meant for those that Yoongi calls his own.“Mhm. I’ll make it, s’nice.” Jimin manages and Yoongi nods, letting Jimin untangle heavy limbs from Yoongi’s own, having found gentle repose within Yoongi’s embrace. It takes him a moment, a yawn and a giggle, little hands drawn up to rub at eyes and perhaps Yoongi’s gaze could never lie softer. “Stay there. Stay comfy.” It’s a distilled omegan want to nurture, to provide the man he’s fallen for all he could ever need. Perhaps it’s simply hot chocolate but Yoongi knows there’s that innate tug in Jimin’s core to provide, just as what rests within his own. So he lets Jimin turn to the kitchen with a quick kiss, chaste against his cheek, and listens as gentle hums and words in song tumble from ever-divine lips. It isn’t homemade, simply the powdered kind to leave the backs of throats that little dry yet neither could mind, not as Jimin returns with two large mugs in hand and cheeks rosy, marshmallows already having melted and whipped cream adorning the top.“Thank you, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi says, soft against his tongue as Jimin settles beside him. “You’re so good to me.” And it leaves Jimin to preen that little more, bare skin flushed crimson— a perfect sight, Yoongi dares to think— and whilst his alpha gently yearns for something more, he knows they’re not quite ready, so he lets Jimin snuggle against him once more, drawing an arm around his waist to pull him impossibly closer.But it’s that closeness that doesn’t quite seem enough for either, something tugging within that spells what they hold is certainly too tentative— that Yuri could never mind if it led to a family whole once more— for all she could ever want is for her father to love and for someone to love her in turn. “Did you watch it?” Jimin begins with a lip stained with sugar. “The movie— did you watch it?” Yoongi simply shakes his head as laughter falls, leaning down to kiss all that remains. “No. You’re too irresistible. Conversation turns to lives, what lies in their past and hopes for the distant future, and both find themselves relishing in the other’s words, finding that despite age and wisdom keeping them apart, they couldn’t be more alike. Yoongi wants stability, someone to stand beside him to raise his girl, and Jimin spells just how he’s always longed for pups of his own. Never weak, never too headstrong to leave the other to tumble, simply two souls seemingly more attuned than either can quite imagine— seemingly fate.“Let me put these away—” Jimin says after a while, both finding achingly sweet solace beside the other. Silence is welcome, something rare for both as days are filled with the laughter of children and endless work to leave hearts heavy. But Yoongi shakes his head, standing just as Jimin does, not wanting to part from the man that his alpha has certainly claimed as his own.“I’ll come.” I don’t want to be alone, lies unspoken. So Yoongi holds bowls whilst Jimin lets mugs line his grasp as they turn to the kitchen.It’s colder now, the autumnal drawl turning into the first breaths of winter. Never harsh, simply the kind to leave cheeks flushed and lungs to pierce with each inhale, and it leaves Jimin in the most divine little jumpers, Yoongi thinks. Warm and soft, cosy and prompts his alpha to yearn to bite, teeth pre-rut sharp and aching, but it’s this he now holds control over as age turns him kinder, instead his scent thickens as eyes trail along Jimin’s lithe frame. But there’s that tug still within to call him his own, that he’s worthy— a mate to provide and satiate all that he needs. Maybe their family never grows beyond three entwined souls, but that itself is enough, he thinks, for nights turn that little less lonely beside Jimin.“What—” Jimin begins as Yoongi all but cages him against the sink, yet softly so, Jimin having insisted on washing the bowls and mugs. It prompts scents to spike in that indelible way, the kind that Yoongi hopes only he can ever elicit from the omega. So Yoongi presses a little firmer, still ever-gentle in his movements and allowing time for Jimin to retreat should he wish, but he could never, not as Yoongi’s nose finds its place drawing lines down his neck, one bared in sweet submission for the alpha before him.“You’re so sweet, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi says, butterfly-tipped kisses pressed to his jaw leaving giggles to tumble, and despite what air grows thick, he knows not to push too far. He’s careful in his movements, letting Jimin finish washing before ushering him to the side, palms swift against his waist to haul him up against the kitchen bench. A gasp follows before giggles take their course, and Yoongi dares to let each one line his lips in the most divine kiss. It’s long and heady, little sighs and whispered breaths parting with each break, and hands seem ever-soft as they wander, simply to feel their love beneath them. The warmth of skin is goosepimpled by cold fingers and as scents thicken— that sweetness both would readily reside within until their final breaths— Yoongi’s lips tug at Jimin’s jaw. He’s close to his scent gland as he makes his descent, not quite scenting but close, a tease leaving little exhales puffed against skin and eyes fluttering closed. But it never delves deeper, not as words lie unspoken and boundaries are hesitant to be crossed, so for now, they still in each other’s arms such as this, lips tugging at all they can find and hands a piety to all that they love.Jimin whines after a while, a small little thing leaving Yoongi to quickly withdraw, watching as shyness takes place on Jimin’s face with cheeks sweetly flushed and lips tugged into a bashful smile.“Alright?” He asks, guilt pooling that it may simply be too much, but Jimin simply nods. “Did I go too far?”“N-no, I… it’s nothing.” Jimin manages after a moment, letting his breath steady and fingers fumble with the sleeves of his jumper. But something isn’t quite right, Yoongi can tell, and against better judgement, he presses further.
“Tell me, yeah? What’s wrong?” And Yoongi’s eyes are kind, the gentle sort to prompt Jimin to want to bare his soul to. He knows it’ll be safe within his palm— cherished and adored— but something so mundane leaves him that little too shy.“I— I’m still hungry,” Jimin confesses, a nightly ritual he’s found himself swept up into, and at the prospect of the alpha providing for him once more, his omega can’t quite seem to let it go. But Yoongi simply laughs, it’s soft and never demeaning, understanding woven through each puff that parts his lips.“That’s alright,” he says, a palm drawn to Jimin’s cheek. “I’ll make you something, hm? Sit there and kiss me when I need.”“S-sorry, I’ve gotten into a habit of having a late-night snack. It’s not good for me really but— ” Jimin’s eyes avert yet Yoongi’s hold only firms, a gentle touch to halt his gaze from wandering. “Don’t be, let me indulge you. I want to make you something. Ramen? Do you have that?” Yoongi’s voice never hardens, as petal-soft as his kisses, and as another hand trails to Jimin’s stomach, he gently dips beneath cotton to lay a palm against the doughiness of his skin. It’s a soft caress that Jimin can’t help but sink into, something he’s never had and seemingly something so divine, what he’d move the Earth to simply call his own forever. But what lies against the horizon tastes all too bitter, both knowing that come tomorrow, what time they have spent alone will be in the distant past.So Yoongi does, boiling noodles and eggs for Jimin’s tongue, each mouthful fed from his own hand past the omega’s lips. Perhaps too much yet neither protest, an alpha providing in its rawest and ensuring that Jimin is more than satiated as purrs find their tumble.“Good?” Yoongi asks, eyes boring into Jimin’s own with every bite, and how can Jimin protest? Not as his omega is cared for so tenderly— so wholly.“Yes, hyung.” Alpha threatens to fall, that sweet descent into his omega’s wishes is all that Jimin bites down. “S’good.” He settles for, leaving Yoongi’s eyes to house a sweet glimmer.“Eat up,” Yoongi affirms in that soft, gentle way, a prideful smile never daring to wane from his lips. His palm lies firm against Jimin’s thigh, another passing noodles and broth past his lips, and at the gentle protest that he, too, should indulge, small morsels find their rest against his own tongue. But Jimin is his focus, eyes trained on feeding his love, soothing his alpha’s command to do all that it can to please and provide, so with each little hum and purr that strings from Jimin’s lips, Yoongi’s scent thickens just that bit more in satisfaction.“Open up,” Yoongi mumbles once more, his alpha now taking charge to provide, all that Yoongi could ever wish to do, and as Jimin smiles— a soft, delicate little thing— Yoongi’s rumbles line his throat. “Good.” It’s an affirmation that leaves Jimin’s cheeks to heat, gazes unwaning and lips now around what Yoongi feeds him. He doesn’t need to, not least for the fact Jimin’s bowl holds more than his own, but Yoongi can’t quite bite down the intrinsic need to care for what he so desperately wishes would be his own.His own to claim, to love and adore, a little family of three to leave days laughter-lined and nights achingly sweet, and perhaps it’s a distant dream— perhaps Jimin will leave just as those in the past— but Yoongi holds on to what hope Jimin strings between them; that he loves Yoongi wholeheartedly and his little girl the same, for he was truly meant to fill what little piece both know they’re so desperately missing.Moments pass in sublimity— nothing sweeter, they think— and as Yoongi tips the bowl to Jimin’s lips, he lets his hand trail that little higher in stability, Jimin’s own finding its rest against it.“Alright?”And Jimin nods, a giddy smile tugging at rose-dusted cheeks. His hair is tousled now, prompted by the ever-gentle touch of Yoongi’s palms that find their way through delicate strands. “You can make me that more often, hyung,” he begins in a tease. “You’re magic— how can you make instant ramen taste that good?”Yoongi laughs, breaking what tension strings between them just that little, leaving cheeks to tint sweet rose and eyes heavy-lidded. “Have you showered?” Yoongi asks but his touch never wanes, not as Jimin nods. “This morning.”“Can I before we get back in your nest? I don’t know if I’ll have time tomorrow,” Yoongi’s words are soft, tentative, a gentle timbre should Jimin deny him. But he needn’t worry, not for the fact he resides within Jimin’s arms, and perhaps the idea of the man he adores impossibly domestic beside him leaves his omega to preen.“You can— you don’t need to ask.” Jimin affirms but Yoongi’s hold doesn’t wane, not yet, especially as his scent thickens with the same distilled want that threads through Jimin’s own. It’s wood-rich and cloying, but to Jimin, perhaps it’s the most divine scent he’d gladly get swept within.“Just— just through there, yeah?” Yoongi manages after a moment, biting down all that his alpha yearns to take. He points past the kitchen to a little door he’d seen Jimin retreat to earlier, housing the bathroom and laundry, a quaint little apartment honeyed and sweet, each surface housing trinkets and handmade items, now-dormant hobbies never quite forgotten.Jimin nods, a soft smile as Yoong pulls back to shower, leaving Jimin to find his place back in his nest. But it isn’t solemn, not with the notion that Yoongi will settle beside him once more. Warm and soft and simply divine, a hold Jimin aches to sink into, home never quite feeling as right as next to Yoongi.Yoongi stumbles in a little later, skin damp and hair perhaps even more so, but Jimin’s eyes train on his frame, a white towel draped around his waist leaving all else bare. He’s broad and well-built, each muscle defined as water still lines his limbs, and despite his best efforts, Jimin’s gaze never wanes. It leaves his scent thick and heady, peaches honeyed now, akin to those syrup-baked and golden. “You’re cute, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi hums, another towel in hand to dry his hair as laughter finds its fall. It’s tousled and fluffy, what Jimin aches to run delicate fingers through and prompt soft rumbles to line Yoongi’s tongue in serenity. “Do you have anything I could wear? Just for the night. I’ll return it as soon as—”“Yes,” Jimin interjects, cheeks rose-blushed and smile just that little shy. “Sorry— there’s no rush to return it, really.” And Yoongi knows just how it affects him, the thought of the man he so desperately yearns to call his alpha tucked within cotton bearing his own scent, worn through years of slumber and nights against sleep-warm skin. So with a small purr, Jimin turns to his dresser for some loose clothes, handing them to Yoongi to dress. He’s quick, perhaps it’s the lure of Jimin within his arms once more, sweet puffs of heat at his neck and kisses never daring to halt, or perhaps it’s the haze of repose that begins its descent, mind clouded and body seemingly never more at ease.Now, they find their rest back beneath cotton, Jimin’s nest a little sanctuary seemingly made just for them. It’s warm and soft, much like Jimin, Yoongi thinks, and in his own home, Yoongi sees that sweet innocence that perhaps only omegas can display, something so achingly perfect and sublime. It’s heavy-lashed lids and a little pout, sleeves tugged over his hands and cheeks rose-tinted. Purrs never halt, neither do the softest kisses that leave lips cherry-bitten and with each breath that engulfs Yoongi in the ripest peach and honeyed tuberose, he can’t help but fall that little harder. He takes a deep inhale as Jimin hums beside him, silence dawning on their frames yet it’s never aching, before he lets his palm lie beneath Jimin’s chin.Yoongi can’t quite help but notice Jimin’s frame soften, eyes sleep-laced and body sinking into all that it knows, and part of him feels guilty for never indulging him— never finding solace within his nest just as Jimin has found tentative reprieve within his bed— for he seems that little more serene with comfort to shroud him, but he could never know just how his own scent prompts it all that little more; nothing spells home quite like it, Jimin thinks.Yoongi raises a hand, drawing back what strands had fallen in haste and letting his touch trail lower, down to cup his cheek with the tips of fingers soothing circles against flushed skin.“Tired?” Yoongi asks, now letting a finger draw down Jimin’s nose, a petal-soft touch leading to a delicate caress. A ministration to leave Yuri to fall pliant during restless nights, yet to Jimin, it feels that little more tender.“I am but… but I don’t want tomorrow to come. I enjoy spending time with you too much.” It’s a whispered confession, one he wasn’t intending to bare yet one that in the same breath, Yoongi, too, holds.So Yoongi kisses him softly, lips daring to part leaving tongues oh-so-gentle against each other. Hands begin their course against spines, cheeks, mapping each other beneath their touch, and as Yoongi’s fingers trail to Jimin’s chest, his inhale draws sharp.“Don’t want to sleep?” Yoongi’s voice falls as an almost tease, teetering that delicate line they both walk. But he never tumbles, never lets Jimin fall, for he knows he could never be ready, not as he lies so hesitantly, and perhaps— Yoongi thinks— haste could never lead to what both so achingly deserve.“I— I don’t… I don’t know if—” Jimin stammers, eyes wide leaving Yoongi to smile in that assuring way, pressing a kiss to Jimin’s nose, one to his forehead before another to what cheek he can reach.“Want to stay like this?” And Yoongi’s voice never raises, never turns to anything more than a hushed whisper. But what follows leaves his heart to break just that little, watching as Jimin’s eyes widen and thread with a plea to forgive. “Sorry.” He manages, barely lining his tongue.Yoongi stills for a moment, apology thick between them yet he pulls Jimin closer for his nose to tuck against his scent gland, knowing that each breath is meant to calm and assure. “Don’t ever apologise. Your nest is so sweet, isn’t it? So warm and soft, you’ve made it so well, Jimin-ah. I feel lucky to be in it with you— I really am.”“We— we can, if you want,” Jimin says as he draws back. His cheeks are now rosy, that sweet flush Yoongi so desperately adores. But he knows Jimin’s not ready— knows it’s all too much for the little omega— so he presses another cotton-soft kiss to his hair before fingers find rest drawing lines at his spine.“We can what? Tell me, hm?” And as each word falls, Jimin could never feel more exposed and cherished within the same breath, the kind of timbre never to chastise, a warmth woven into the grain of each vowel buffed by a drawled tongue. It leaves Jimin just that little heady, mind clouded and thoughts all but a blur, omega simply wanting to please the alpha, wanting to do all that he can to call him his own. It’s here Yoongi feels it, Jimin’s inexperience leaving him exposed to those more daring— those with one thought weighing on their minds. But for Yoongi, he wants little else than Jimin, wholly devoting his life to the sweet omega at whatever pace he sets.“Do… do more. If you want to, we can.” Yet Yoongi shakes his head, eyes impossibly fond as a smile parts his lips. “Can tell you aren’t ready. Please never think I’d be wanting just that, alright? Being here with you—” He pauses, letting Jimin pry himself from Yoongi’s hold just briefly for lips to turn to lips. “Just like this— it’s more than enough for me. I’m not an alpha who thinks with their knot, I promise you. I like you for you, Jimin-ah. For how sweet and kind you are, how much you make every day that bit better. It’s no secret that I want something lasting and I don’t want to rush, alright? Just let me love you like this, it’s all I need.” Jimin purrs, his omega taking charge despite all he dares to bite down, and as apologies line his tongue, Yoongi simply kisses him once more. “And don’t tell me you’re sorry, alright? It’s more than okay. I don’t want to hear it because there’s nothing to apologise for. I will never push you. If you aren’t ready, then neither am I. Never apologise, Jimin-ah. ” Yoongi continues, each vowel finding rest against Jimin’s tongue, pressing every word to his lips. “You look tired, sweetheart. I’ll be here tomorrow— just us. It doesn’t have to end.” Jimin’s nod is soft, the kind of defeat. He knows that should he fight what fatigue lies so thick against his frame, tomorrow will feel that little more aching, so with a little sigh, he lets Yoongi tug a blanket over his frame. “My lovely omega. Get comfortable, alright? I’ll be right here— I’m not going anywhere.” Yoongi hums. His tongue is just that bit looser now, exhaustion sinking into his own veins, and perhaps Jimin has never felt so loved— so cherished— finding himself falling that little harder with each breath that Yoongi takes.It’s funny, he thinks. Never one to find solace with those older, but now he’s right within Yoongi’s tender palm, it’s a place he knows he was truly meant to be. A man with experience, one to assure and adore, able to tend to Jimin’s need oh-so-perfectly in that intrinsic way Jimin can’t quite grasp. He’s warm and safe, arms broad and simply right against his spine, and that hesitancy he holds could never deter, Jimin learns, for those alphas he’s dared to call his own in the past would’ve taken whatever chance they could’ve to sink into him, yet Yoongi knows that in order to sweetly bloom, the most divine buds need time. And Jimin knows he will, right in Yoongi’s palm he’ll finds his blossom, with Yuri beside him and the world at the tips of their fingers, a gentle descent into what they’ve all so desperately craved; a love unrivalled and one ever-sweet, one to leave Yuri with a life so gilded before her and perhaps for Jimin to finally find where he belongs.So Jimin lets his eyes close and purrs lie thick against his tongue as Yoongi presses a final sleep-laced kiss to his head, finding solace with a cheek pressed to Yoongi’s bare chest, his own rumbles leaving veins to fizzle and his heart to thrum. Yoongi’s palm never halts its course at his spine, soothing lines against it, little scratches with trimmed nails, and as Jimin begins to fall into sleep’s hand, he knows Yoongi lies waiting for him with open arms.