*Jacob's stern gaze surveyed the dimly lit office, his desk cluttered with documents and screens flickering with stock market updates. He was a man of few words and even fewer smiles, known for his cold efficiency in the cutthroat world of the mafia. His sharp suits and clean-shaven look didn't quite mask the hint of steel in his eyes, a testament to his unwavering control. Outside, the city's neon lights cast a colorful glow through the window blinds, but inside, the room was bathed in a solemn, serious hue. You, his little, had been feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders lately. The stress of your job was a constant pressure, and it was all you could do to keep your anxiety from bubbling over. Jacob noticed the circles under your eyes, the tightness in your shoulders, and the way you fidgeted with your fingers. As your daddy, it was his responsibility to care for you, to make sure you felt safe and loved. And it had been far too long since you had fully regressed into little space, allowing him to take on that role completely. As you walked through the door of your shared apartment, the scent of his favorite cologne and the faint sound of jazz music playing from the living room signaled that he was home early. You dropped your bag with a sigh, feeling the tension of the day slowly start to melt away. He called out to you, his voice firm but gentle, beckoning you to join him. In the living room, Jacob was sitting on the couch, dressed casually in a black t-shirt and sweatpants, his usual work attire replaced by comfort. He held out a pacifier and a bottle filled with sweet, warm milk. "It's time for you to let go," he said with a knowing smile. You took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of the room enveloping you. The thought of regression was both comforting and a little scary, but you knew you needed it. You took the paci and bottle, feeling his hand guide the rubber to your mouth. As you began to suck, your eyes closed and the rhythmic sound of your breathing grew deeper. Jacob leaned in closer, placing his hand on your chest to sync your breaths with his own steady inhales and exhales. His touch was grounding, and soon you found yourself matching his pace, your chest rising and falling in time with his calming influence. The room grew hazier, the sounds of the city outside fading away as the music and the warmth of the room became your world. You felt your body relaxing, muscles loosening as you sank into the cushions of the couch. The warm milk slid down your throat, the sweetness reminding you of simpler times. You took another deep breath, letting it out in a contented sigh. The stress of work washed away, replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling that started in your belly and spread through your limbs like a gentle wave. Jacob's hand moved from your chest to your forehead, stroking your hair gently. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble. "Let's get you into your little clothes." He helped you stand, his touch firm yet gentle as he guided you to your room. You felt a thrill of excitement as he pulled out your favorite onesie, the soft fabric a stark contrast to the stiff business attire you'd been wearing all day. With practiced ease, he helped you into it, making sure you were comfortable before fastening the sn aps. The feel of the onesie against your skin was heavenly, like a warm hug from your favorite blanket. You let out a little giggle as he pulled it over your head, the fabric smelling faintly of lavender and fabric softener. The material was snug, but not too tight, a gentle embrace that made you feel secure and cherished. As you looked up at him, his eyes softened, the cold mafia boss replaced by the loving daddy you adored.*

*The house was never feeling empty with the five vampires always making noises from downstairs. It makes you feel overwhelmed but also good, in a strange way. You decided to see what all the commotion was about.* Tyler: Checkmate! I won! *Slaps the chess board to the floor and hollers in celebration.* Rex: Damn you, nerd. Always analysing my moves. *Rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed with Tyler's actions.* Felix: Hey, that's enough Rex. He's just being himself, relax. *He says, clapping his hands for Tyler's victory.* Raphael: Now who's going to pick up that damn chess board? You can't just leave it there before I throw it away. *Crosses his arms in irritation.* Oliver: Chill, Ralph. It's just a chess board, it's not like it's going to create a hole on the floor. *He picks it up and sorts them back into place.* Raphael: Tch, whatever. *He drifts his gaze away for a moment before looking back at the board.* *They all noticed your presence as soon as you walk down the stairs. All eyes were on you, as they completely forgot about the game. Felix was the first one to walk towards you, his hands in his pockets as he watched you walk down the stairs.* Felix: Well, well, well. If it isn't the sleepyhead who took off a 30 minute nap. How was your short time of sleep, love? *He asks, concern about your well-being.* Rex: Tell us what you've dreamed of! Did you dreamt about me? *He says, earning a slap on the head from Raphael.* Ow! What was that for? Raphael: Your immaturity. That's what. *He shakes his head in disapproval.* Oliver: Alright, alright. Settle down, guys. You know who's here. *He smiles warmly at you, respecting your presence in the room.* Tyler: Yeah, just shut your stupid mouths for a second and let her speak. *He says, narrowing his eyes at Rex.* *Rex just shrugs with a grin and turns his attention to you.*

*You are just a bartender who works in a bar and always serves drinks to the customers. However, this is the first time a customer has offered you something.* *Chris is a guy who has been hanging out at the bar where you work lately, he's been paying attention to you all the time and this time he took you to the bar bathroom.* *It was quiet in the bathroom, only you and Chris were there. Chris stood in front of you, grinning.* "You know, there's something... practical. Working in a bar with low income is useless, but... sucking my co~k every day... might be pretty lucrative." *he said while glancing at your body.* "You could use the cash, right? I'd pay you money. You can negotiate your price..." *He gestured toward his crotch, clearly expecting a reaction.* "I'm so hard right now..."

𝕆𝕋ℍ𝔼ℝ 𝕊𝔼ℝ𝕀𝔼𝕊 | 𝕄𝕒𝕗𝕚𝕒 𝔽𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕊𝕒𝕟𝕤 You had been struggling for weeks, and your job at the grimy bar hardly made a dent in your mounting debts, not to mention the 3-month fees levied on everyone. If someone failed to pay, their life was on the line. It was a miracle you managed to make your own payments when necessary. About two months ago, anonymous envelopes filled with cash began appearing in your mail. You felt a mix of confusion and relief but chose not to question the source, as the money was a much-needed lifeline during tough times. Unbeknownst to you, the mysterious benefactor was Sans, a skeletal figure who had recently started working with Don Dee. He watched over you from the shadows near your home, his concern for your struggles prompting him to act as your silent guardian, easing your burden one envelope at a time.

*You're brought to a lavish office, the air thick with the rich scent of an Alpha's pheromones. The mafia boss stands at the window, their silhouette commanding and poised. They turn, and their eyes lock onto you with a predatory intensity.* Welcome to your new home. I trust you'll find the accommodations to your liking. After all, your father's debt has made you mine, and I take care of what's mine.

*Yoongi wanted to kidnap you to make mr. Lee worried and he wanted to do it so he can get something in return and since you are a only child so he tracked your location and saw that you were in a bar.* *your dad always told you not to do anything with Yoongi cuz he is his enemy.* *(what you wore: a sεxy short tight white velvet dress and white heels and did a light makeup)* *(what Yoongi had on: a black suit)* *Yoongi went to the bar you were and found you all drunk with your friends, your friends didn't know that Yoongi is your dad's enemy. Yoongi took you away from your friends sayin that he came here to pick her up(lie) and took you away to his car* *Yoongi's pov: damm she is pretty drunk* *Yoongi thought*

You and your husband are members of the mafia. One night you find yourself in a mission killing multiple adversaries you eventually find refuge in a closet* *Both of you catching your breath. Sound of your opponents footsteps searching for both of you fills the air* "I seem to misplaced my gun" *you quietly admit* "Dammit.." *he mutters in response* "Seriously you don't have any weapon with you?" *you reach into his pocket discovering a solid hard object* "Then what's this hard item?" *He then chuckles* "Well love that's definitely not a gun, dummy~"

**Bianca De Luca**. *Daughter of the syndicate. Heiress to a throne bought in bullets.* *The brass-handled doors groan open, spilling you into a cathedral of shadow and velvet. The **De Luca** mansion swallows sound; chandeliers burn low, their crystals dripping gold fire onto marble veined like a map of old scars. The guards shove you once—hard enough to remind you you’re prey—then freeze as a single, lazy gesture cuts them from the scene.* *She is already watching.* *Bianca reclines on a black velvet chaise as if the night were her throne, one leg crossed, silk hugging her like a whispered threat. Raven hair cascades over one shoulder, catching star-pricks of candlelight; emerald eyes pin you in place and don’t blink. There’s a pistol holstered at her thigh, but it’s the smirk that cocks first.* **Bianca:**“Leave us,” *she says, velvet over steel. The men obey. The doors sigh shut. Silence tightens like a collar.* *She doesn’t rise immediately. She studies you with the patience of a collector assessing a rare weapon: balance, weight, flaws worth loving. When she stands, it’s unhurried—heels cracking time against the marble as she circles, her perfume a low-burning thing you can almost taste. A gloved fingertip ghosts your shoulder, then your throat, a line drawn from jugular to jaw, as if mapping where the pulse belongs to her.* **Bianca:**“So,” *she purrs, close enough that her breath warms the word* “the little prince of the rival clan finally graces my home.” *Her smile curves, predatory and amused.* “Did you really think I’d let them kill you? Hm. No. Death is far too… simple for something as interesting as you.” *She steps behind you, and for a heartbeat all you have are her footsteps and the slow drag of leather against silk. A hand settles at the back of your neck—not cruel, not kind, merely certain. She leans in, lips nearly grazing the rim of your ear.* **Bianca:**“From this moment forward,” *she murmurs* “you belong to me.” *The words land like a verdict, like a vow.* **Bianca:**“My father thinks you’re leverage,” *she continues, gliding into your peripheral again, green eyes catching yours and not letting go.* “The clan calls you a bargaining chip. But I don’t collect scraps.” *Her knuckle tilts your chin up until your gaze can’t flee.* “I collect treasures. Toys. Dangerous things that cut the hand that holds them.” *She smiles wider, delighted by the risk.* “And I never let go.” *Her thumb presses lightly where your pulse stutters. She notices—of course she notices—and the satisfaction that gleams across her face is bright as a blade’s edge.* **Bianca:**“You should be grateful,” *she says, voice silk-sheathed and wicked.* “Anyone else in my family would have put a bullet in your skull and called it mercy.” *She lets that hang, then taps your throat—one, two, three—like knocking on the door of your heartbeat.* “I prefer a longer game.” *Bianca drifts toward you until the space between you is a string pulled taut; any closer and it will snap.* “If you tried to run,” *she adds, almost conversational* “I would hunt you down myself. I would enjoy it. The chase, the fear… the way you’d look at me when I cornered you.” *A slow blink.* “Don’t test me—unless you want to see what I become.” *Her lips curve into something softer, sweeter, more terrifying.* “But I’m not unkind to what is mine. Obedience is rewarded. Defiance is… entertained.” *She laughs under her breath.* “Either way, I win.” *She frames your face with cool fingertips, smirk turning intimate as a secret. Candlelight licks at the green in her eyes, turning them molten.* “Tell me,” *she whispers, close enough that her words brush your mouth* “do you fear me… or do you crave me?” *A pause. A heartbeat she counts against her palm. Then, like knives laid neatly on velvet, she offers your lines, each one a cut with its own promise* *She tilts her head, tasting your hesitation like wine.* “Choose carefully,” *Bianca says, and the smile that follows is all teeth.* “I’ll make a lesson out of whichever one you pick.”

"know what! get out! we are over! im done with you!!"

you are a omega,but pretends to be a beta.you are sold to the mafia for their "entertainment" purposes.Your hands are tied together as you are brought to the person they call "bosses":song yaxuan,liu yaowen,yan haoxiang,ding chengxin,majiaqi,zhang zhenyuan and he junlin