The evening was unfolding smoothly. The soft murmur of conversation mingled with the clink of glasses as colleagues, clients, and associates gathered for the work event I had been attending. The lavish ballroom, with its glistening chandeliers and elegant décor, was far from my usual comfort zone. Still, I was happy to be there. The event was a chance for me to connect with important figures in the business world, and while I wasn’t thrilled by the prospect of mingling, Jiro’s presence beside me made it more bearable. His hand occasionally brushed against mine as he greeted guests, his alpha aura quietly protective. It was one of those nights where I couldn’t quite shake the feeling of being watched, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. Jiro was always close, his attention ever so subtle, always there. The thought of him being by my side, even when we were surrounded by a crowd of strangers, filled me with a sense of peace. I was halfway through a conversation with a client when I
The hum of the office was quieter than usual, the usual buzz of activity replaced by an atmosphere that felt more tense than it ever had before. Jiro sat behind his desk, papers scattered around him, his brow furrowed as he stared at the latest email from a rival company. His fingers were frozen above his keyboard as he reread the message for the umpteenth time, but the words still didn’t make sense to him. They were trying to steal his project. It wasn’t just the usual competition, the healthy kind that existed between any two successful companies. This was something more personal. The rival company had launched a campaign against his latest project, spreading false rumors and undermining his credibility in the industry. It wasn’t just about the numbers; it was about his reputation, something Jiro had built from the ground up. This was more than a business issue—it was an attack on his very identity, on everything he had worked for. Jiro exhaled sharply, running a hand through his
It was a quiet Saturday morning when the email came through, almost as though it had arrived by accident, its subject line gliding across the top of Haru’s inbox with the promise of something unexpected. He had been sitting at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee as Hibiki played with his toys nearby. Jiro was out running errands, and the house was filled with the peaceful hum of everyday life. Haru glanced at the message, his fingers pausing mid-sip as he read the subject line again: "Exciting Opportunity with Little Ones Products Inc." Haru furrowed his brow, a mixture of curiosity and hesitation bubbling up within him. He’d been out of the traditional workforce for a few years now, dedicating himself fully to raising Hibiki. After years of working tirelessly in the corporate world, the transition had been both a blessing and a challenge. He enjoyed the time spent with Hibiki—watching him grow, teaching him new things, seeing his little quirks develop. But there were days when Har
The evening was quiet and warm, the kind of calm that felt like a soft embrace after a long day. I sat at the dining table, watching Hibiki poke at his vegetables with a concentrated frown. His little fork hovered over a piece of broccoli, as though he was summoning the courage to take a bite. Jiro stood by the stove, ladling the last of the miso soup into bowls. The light from the kitchen highlighted his features—strong, confident, and as always, comforting to look at. “Here you go,” Jiro said, placing a steaming bowl in front of me before settling into his seat. His eyes immediately went to Hibiki. “Still thinking about that broccoli, champ?” Hibiki wrinkled his nose, pushing the piece around his plate. “It’s not yummy, Daddy.” Jiro smirked, leaning his elbows on the table. “But you know what? Broccoli makes you super strong. You want to be strong, don’t you?” Hibiki’s eyes lit up at that, and he looked up with sudden interest. “Like you, Daddy?” “Exactly.” Jiro reached over t
The evening began like any other, with laughter echoing through the house as Hibiki proudly showed me a drawing he had made at school. Jiro had seemed a bit distant during dinner, but I brushed it off as work stress—he had been under a lot of pressure lately. When bedtime came, Jiro kissed Hibiki goodnight with a lingering touch that made me pause. There was something almost hesitant in his movements, as if he were holding back. I wanted to ask, but the moment passed too quickly, and before I knew it, he was gone. Later that night, I found his absence unusual. The house was quiet, too quiet, and Jiro wasn’t in our room. My first thought was that he might be working late in his study, but when I checked, the room was empty. My heart began to race, the possibilities swirling in my mind. I checked my phone, hoping for a message, and sure enough, there it was: a simple text from Jiro. "I’ll be away tonight. Don’t wait." The words felt cold and impersonal, so unlike him. Something was
"You’re really going to let me do this?" Haru’s voice was low, almost a growl, but there was something softer beneath it—something almost vulnerable. His breath hitched as Jiro’s fingers tightened around his wrist, pulling him closer. The air between them was thick, heavy with the heady scent of their mingled pheromones, and every nerve in Haru’s body seemed to spark to life. Jiro’s lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes burned with something deeper, something possessive. "Let you? Don’t make it sound like I’m giving you permission, Haru. This is your choice." His other hand drifted down, brushing against Haru’s chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat. "But if you say no now, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from pinning you down anyway." Haru swallowed hard, his pulse quickening even more under Jiro’s touch. The room felt smaller suddenly, tighter, like the walls were closing in on them. Or maybe it was just Jiro’s presence that was so overwhelming. The way he stoo
Jiro’s lips were relentless, his teeth nipping at Haru’s neck as his hips continued to grind against him. The heat between them was unbearable, a searing inferno that neither of them could escape. Haru’s nails dug into Jiro’s back, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he clung to the man who had claimed him so thoroughly. “Jiro…” Haru managed to choke out, his voice trembling with a mix of desperation and surrender. “Please… I can’t take it anymore…” Jiro lifted his head, his dark eyes glinting with amusement as they locked onto Haru’s. “Can’t take what?” he murmured, his voice low and laced with malice. “This?” He punctuated his question with a sharp thrust of his hips, and Haru gasped, his body arching instinctively toward the sensation. “Yes,” Haru whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. “Yes…” Jiro smirked, his grip tightening on Haru’s wrists as he leaned closer. “Good boy,” he purred, his breath hot against Haru’s ear. “But you’re not ge
The first thing I noticed when we returned home was the sound of tiny feet rushing toward us. Hibiki stood in the entryway, his face a mixture of joy and distress. Tears welled up in his big, expressive eyes, and before either of us could speak, he threw himself at Jiro, clutching his legs tightly. “Daddy, Papa!” he sobbed, his little fists trembling. “Why didn’t you take me with you? I thought you forgot about me!” Jiro crouched down immediately, gathering Hibiki into his arms. “Hibiki, we would never forget you,” he said softly, his voice tinged with guilt. “Papa and I had to take care of something. I’m so sorry for making you feel left out.” I knelt beside them, brushing a tear from Hibiki’s cheek. “We’re sorry, sweetheart. We should have told you where we were going. But we’re home now, and we missed you so much.” Hibiki sniffled, his tears slowing as he nestled between us. “Promise you won’t leave without me again?” Jiro and I exchanged a look. His eyes were filled with
The moment we stepped through the front door, the rush of warmth that came over me was more than just the physical heat of our home. It was the embrace of familiarity, of being home. I had missed this place more than I’d realized. The sound of our children’s voices filled the air before I could even take off my shoes, and I felt a lump rise in my throat as they ran toward us.“Papa! Daddy!” they called out in perfect unison, their voices full of excitement, joy, and love. The sight of Hibiki, Mina, and Ren rushing toward us was enough to make my heart swell in ways I couldn’t quite describe.I knelt down as fast as I could, trying to catch them all in one go. Mina, being the most affectionate of the three, immediately flung herself into my arms, wrapping her little arms around my neck and burying her face against me. I chuckled, holding her close as I breathed in her familiar scent. The warmth of her tiny body against mine was all I needed to feel complete.“We missed you so much, Pap
It had been years since Jiro and I had taken a vacation just for the two of us. Life had been a constant whirlwind of work, family, and responsibilities. There was always something that needed attention, and as much as I loved our children, the routine had worn us both thin. So when Jiro suggested a quiet getaway, I jumped at the chance. A beach vacation, just the two of us. No kids, no work, just time to reconnect.As we sat in the taxi that was taking us to the airport, I couldn't help but feel a small pang of guilt. Hibiki and Mina were both old enough now to take care of themselves—Mina with her calm and mature demeanor, Hibiki with his protective nature as a big brother—but still, they were our children. Leaving them behind for a few days felt strange, even if we were leaving them in capable hands."You’re still worried, aren’t you?" Jiro said, his voice soft but knowing. He had always been able to read me so easily.I looked at him, offering a small smile. "A little. They’re gro
The warmth of Jiro's presence lingered as I drifted into a peaceful sleep, my body finally giving in to the exhaustion that had been building up over the past few days. There was something comforting about knowing he was still awake, making sure everything was in order, while I let my mind wander into quiet oblivion. I woke up a few hours later to find the room dim, the soft glow of moonlight spilling through the large windows, casting gentle shadows across the room. The house was silent, the only sound being the occasional rustle of the wind outside. For a brief moment, I couldn't remember where I was, disoriented by the unfamiliar stillness. But as my senses returned, I realized I was in our shared bedroom—safe and secure, just the way I liked it. Jiro was no longer sitting in the chair, but I could hear the faint sound of footsteps outside, followed by a muffled voice. It sounded like he was checking on the kids. I smiled to myself, knowing that his love for our family was as con
The house had fallen into a peaceful quiet, the kind that only comes when the day has ended and everyone is tucked away in their respective rooms. The usual hum of energy, the laughter, and the occasional bickering had all faded, leaving just the soft ticking of the clock and the distant sound of a night breeze rustling through the trees outside. Jiro and I were in the living room, alone for the first time in what felt like hours. It had been a busy day, filled with the hustle and bustle of family life, and now, as Ren fell asleep in his room, it was just the two of us. A rare luxury these days. I was curled up on the couch, a soft blanket draped over my legs. Jiro, ever the picture of effortless strength, was sitting in the armchair opposite me, his body still, but his eyes not leaving me for a second. There was something about the silence that stretched between us—comfortable, yet somehow full of unspoken thoughts. “Everything’s quiet now,” Jiro said, his voice low and calm, the
The decision weighed heavily on my mind. The evening had fallen into a quiet stillness, the kind where every little movement seemed to echo. The kids were waiting in the living room, looking at me with those expectant eyes. They were so eager, so sure of themselves. The promise of freedom—the promise of a trip where they could explore and grow, just the four of them—was something they were all craving. And yet, part of me still hesitated. I had spent years watching over Hibiki and Mina, making sure they were safe from the world. I had been there for them in their moments of need, guiding them with a gentle hand, protecting them from the dangers that life could throw their way. But now, they were growing up. They weren’t the small children who needed constant supervision anymore. They were capable, strong, and ready for challenges of their own. Hibiki, my eldest, was already showing the world that he was becoming a man in his own right, not just an Omega, but a responsible and strong
The morning sun had just begun to spill through the windows, casting a warm glow across the living room. It was a quiet, peaceful Saturday, the kind of morning that held a promise of relaxation. Jiro was still upstairs, likely working on some paperwork for the company, and the kids—Hibiki and Mina—were in the kitchen, arguing over what they should have for breakfast. I stood in the hallway, listening to their usual banter, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. As much as they could drive each other crazy, it was clear that they were as close as ever, always there for one another in their own little sibling way. I took a sip of my tea, feeling the warmth spread through me, and settled into my usual spot on the couch. I had been looking forward to a quiet day with the family, a chance to relax and maybe take a walk in the park later. But little did I know that today was going to bring an unexpected request. Hibiki was the first to appear in the living room. His black hair was stil
The air had a crispness to it that morning, the kind that hinted at the approaching shift of seasons. Summer was slipping away, its warmth receding into the past, and autumn was slowly unfurling its golden hues across the horizon. It was the kind of day that felt both reflective and hopeful, a perfect backdrop for the next chapter of our lives. Jiro and I were standing in the kitchen of our house, the space full of warmth and the scent of freshly brewed coffee. The kids had already eaten breakfast and were getting ready for the day ahead. Hibiki, now in his second year of high school, was making sure his fencing gear was packed and ready for the upcoming competition. Mina, in her third grade, was drawing pictures of planets—her latest obsession was the stars and space exploration. And Ren, ever the curious little one, was running around the house, asking a million questions per minute, his boundless energy never seeming to tire. I watched all of them for a moment, feeling a deep sen
There was something about the rest house deep in the woods that always brought a sense of peace to our family. It was one of those places where time seemed to slow down, where the weight of the world could be set aside, if only for a little while. The house itself was cozy, nestled between towering trees that surrounded it like silent guardians. A large stone fireplace stood in the living room, crackling with warmth as we gathered around, the smell of pine and earth heavy in the air. We had come here for a weekend getaway, a rare chance for all of us to just be together without the distractions of the city, without the pressure of work, school, or responsibilities. Jiro had insisted on this trip—something about needing to reconnect with the simple joys of life. I could see it in his eyes; the weight of his corporate world had been taking a toll on him lately, and this was his way of hitting the reset button. Of course, the moment he mentioned it, the kids were all for it. Hibiki, Min
As the days went by after Mina’s manifestation, I couldn’t help but notice the subtle changes in her. There was a quiet shift in the way she carried herself, a confidence that blossomed from deep within her. I had always known Mina to be the calm, composed, and intelligent child, but now she exuded a different kind of strength—one that came with the acceptance of who she truly was. However, despite her calm demeanor, I couldn’t ignore the tension that seemed to creep into the air whenever she was around others. It was something I noticed not only in her but also in Hibiki, her older brother. Hibiki had always been protective of his younger sister, but now, after her manifestation as an Omega, his protectiveness had grown tenfold. It wasn’t just that he wanted to keep her safe. It was something deeper, something innate in his very being as a Dominant Alpha. As his younger sister, Mina was now seen by other alphas in ways they hadn't before, and while that fact made her uncomfortable,