Felix45
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And then Yoongi saw him. He was wearing a Red robe which conceals nothing on his nudity. Red eyes staring intently at him like he was ready to devour him any moment. The Omega's eyes widen and felt like his heart went straight on his throat. He was huge, maybe almost six foot tall and with a physique of a rugby player. Shivers run down the Omega's spine as he wasn't told that this alpha is fucking big. His hair was long as it reaches his shoulders and shaved at the side of both ears which is as the dark as the night in contrast to Yoongi's silver hair. He was littered with tattoos of hangul, flowers and a dragon.
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The time when omega Min Yoongi needs to pay mafia boss Jeon jungkook their family's debt. But nobody told him that the alpha is fucking huge.
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“Victor, can you bend for me darling?”
He didn’t know how they’d come to this.
One moment he was talking to his husband over the phone on what he wants for dinner, and the next thing he knows, he’s bent over his husband’s office desk.
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Yoongi chuckled against Hoseok’s neck. His mouth pulling away from the spot he had been feasting upon so that it could hover over Hoseok’s ear once again.
“Did you just…?” Yoongi trailed off, his hands leaving Hoseok’s chest so that they could press against Hoseok’s front. “You just came in your pants.”
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Jung Hoseok: General troublemaker who should probably get his shit together.
Min Yoongi: Head of the school hall monitors and possible future president of Korea who just so happens to own Jung Hoseok's ass.
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“Rough day, Haruno?”
“Well, if it isn’t Konoha’s two favorite Uchiha.” Her tone is dry, clipped with the roughness of her drink, but the curiosity is sincere. "To what do I owe the honor?"
“Can’t a man just have a drink?” Shisui asks. He slips onto the seat beside her, one hand raised to catch the bartender’s attention, while Itachi’s glare forces a man out of her right-side seat.
Sakura hides her huff of mirth behind her drink, rolling her eyes as the bartender pours sake for the two men. “Oh you can,” She assures, clinking her glass with his. “But you two aren’t exactly known to drink.”
Itachi’s chest brushes against her shoulder and his breath fans against her neck. “It’s been a long day.” He offers his glass to her own, his eyes smoldering with the kindling of a controlled fire and dancing between shadow and flame.
A scarred finger drags upwards against her knee. “And we’re expecting an even longer night.”
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Yoongi comes home after a long day of work, and all he wants to do is see his baby boy.