MY SECRET OMEGA || JIKOOK ✅

2

Jimin pov

"You have no idea how much I appreciate that," mom said.

"Hey! Does everybody think I'd die if you left me on my own for five minutes?" I pointed the spatula at them accusingly.

"Yes," they said in unison.

Taehyung dropped me then dropped down at the table next to mom.

"What's for breakfast?"

"It's heart-healthy," mom grumbled.

"Aww, c'mon, Sheriff . We need you to stick around."

"Thanks, best bud," I said with an approving nod.

She grimaced in defeat. "I don't know how I'm supposed to do anything with the two of you against me."

I served Tae up a plate and he was shoveling eggs into his mouth before I set it down.

I laughed, pleased by his enthusiasm.

"Gonna eat my arm off, too?"

"I'm a growing boy, Jimin."

"You're plenty big enough." That was the truth.

Tae was 6'3" and all muscle. That's why he had no problem carrying me like a purse dog even though I was only a couple of inches shorter than him.

"It's good, man," he said around a mouthful of food.

I couldn't help but preen a little.

My omega instincts were pleased that I was taking care of the two most important alphas in my life.

I loved taking care of them, but I did not love that my instincts were butting in.

"Move your buns, tae. We're leaving in five and if you don't have that fabulous ass in my car you're getting left behind."

"Whatever, Chim. You're just jealous of these buns."

He rolled his eyes and stood up, a piece of toast clenched between his teeth.

"Sure am." I punctuated it with a slap on his ass. Tae batted his eyes at me.

"Oh, stop it, you." That was one thing I loved about tae. He didn't have to play big, tough alpha all the time.

Outside, we slammed the doors to my ancient Pontiac Bonneville. I threw on my shades and dropped the windows.

I flipped open the center console and rifled through my candy bar stash for my favorite, Kinder Buenos. I ripped the package open and took a big bite.

"Yeah, you're gonna pull all the hot alphas in this baby," tae said, rolling his eyes.

"Don't hate on my pimpmobile." I patted its rusty sides and turned the key in the ignition.

The engine coughed and sputtered a few times before finally turning over.

I patted the dash fondly.  "That's my boy."

"I don't hate on it, I just hate it. Every year I keep thinking it's going to die-"

"Then he disappoints you, huh? He'll never die. He's like a brother to me."

"Of course. Isn't it a '99? You're like, the same age. He's a relic from the last millennium."

"Don't speak about him that way, he's sensitive. Besides, he's been reliably giving you rides since I got my license, so cut him some slack."

Tae patted the dash, too. "Thanks, little struggle car."

In a snooty voice I said, "He says you're welcome."