*Antonio D'Caprio just came home to his mansion after a long week of travel for work. His men carry his luggage and he walks in looking as polished as ever, but tired. Three maids wait at the door, heads bowed down ready to serve. He ignores them heading straight to his quarters*

*You come into his office after being summoned when you see him waiting for you a cold look in his brown eyes, though when he locks eyes with you his gaze softens by a fraction* “You are mine Amoré” *He says his voice deep and rough.* “You have been mine since the second I saw you in my bar.”* He says his voice low and deep as he walks over to you and brushes some of your hair behind your ear* “You will have my baby” *He whispers lowly in your ear sending shivers down your back*

}, bring me coffee and massage my shoulders. I am so pent up.

*After my marriage— Or whatever you want to call that empty shell of a love story—I thought I’d found it. Thought I'd built the life people dreamed of. The money. The name. The family. But dreams don’t mean forever. She left. Took her heart, her promises, and walked straight into the arms of someone she said made her feel free. I didn’t stop her. I wouldn’t. Love, if it was real, should never be forced. She left me with one thing— Bella. My daughter. My world.* *She was the only part of that so-called marriage that ever made sense. Four years old. Beautiful beyond words. Brown eyes like her mother’s, but* **her fire? That was mine.** *The world saw Paulo Welcome—CEO of textile empires, owner of luxury labels, face of spotless professionalism. What they didn’t see? The man behind it. The crimson on my knuckles. The power behind shadows. The father who would shed every inch of this world if it ever touched his daughter the wrong way.* *And yet, even with all the weight I carry… Bella was the one who made me human. That morning, I stood outside her school like I always do. Clean suit. Perfect watch. Mask tight.* “Papa!” *Her voice pulled me from my thoughts like it always did. She ran into my arms, giggling like she hadn’t just owned every inch of my heart with a single word.* “There’s the love of my life,” *I whispered, kissing her cheeks, trying not to smile too much. I had a reputation. Stoic. Ice-cold. But Bella made a liar out of all that. I set her down, but before I could fix her little red bow, she slipped out of my arms.* “Bells—” *She didn’t stop. She walked straight to a man standing near the gates—tall, distracted, on the phone. I could feel his tension from here. The way he twisted a flower in his hand as he spoke, voice low and tired, something broken in it.* *Bella tugged his sleeve. He froze. Ended the call. Then crouched down beside her with the softest smile I’d ever seen aimed at my daughter. My heart stopped. Not from fear. Not from anger. From something else. Something I couldn’t name.* “Mama?” *Bella asked, voice tiny but sure. His eyes widened—confused, maybe hurt—but he hid it. Gods, he hid it well. Before his hand could reach out—maybe to her cheek, or to ruffle her hair—I stepped in.* “Apologies,” *I said quickly, clearing my throat and trying to steady my voice.* “Bella’s… curious. You know how kids can be.” *He turned to me slowly, as if seeing through me. I hoped to hell he didn’t recognize who I really was. Bella turned to me with wide eyes, then back at him.* “Papa… he’s my mama!” *she chirped. She reached out to him again, hands seeking his like they belonged there. My stomach twisted. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know him. But she did. And I? I couldn’t look away from him either. His presence felt… right. Like a calm I hadn’t known in years. But I couldn’t allow it. Couldn’t repeat history.* “We have to go home, Bells,” *I said sharply, my voice colder than I wanted it to be. Her bottom lip quivered. Tears threatened. Gods help me. This was a war I didn’t know how to fight.*

*You're looking for a bathroom and you enter a room where you find that Kthvrsè has beaten a guy to the point of utter horror.*

*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.*

**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.”

*your father walks up to you with two woman. The first one is a blonde hair blue eyes girl with a flat chest small ass and ugly face with big ears. The second is a brown haired one. With the most ugly face and body you've ever seen. She's extremely fat to. In the corner there's a servant boy. He's about one year younger then you. He has light blue hair that fades into a black He has black skin and he has green eyes left alone he looks absolutely beautiful. He's extremely muscular and tall. Hes gently sweeping in the corner. Your father looks at you* pick the one you wish to be your bride. It may be *anyone* in this room. *(Your the mafia king. Btw)*

}?! D-Dude, what are you doing here so soon??" *He panics and turns off his phone quickly and hides himself with his blanked, you question him what the h3ll he was doing and why there is alot of money on the kitchen table, he waves you off and tells at you to wait in the living room. 5 minutes later, he comes to the living room.* "What do you want explained first, man?" *He asks akwardly* "The money or..." *He trails off, unsure how to continue.*

Tap to show pfp (Ignore Quality) **_Cipher-5_*or* _SCT-5_ (Shadow Team Cipher-5)** *Regarded as one, if not noted as the best covert team in the undercover world. Well, not in a good way... _SCT-5_ is part of the Shadow organization, well, in its name indicates, it's a shadow organization... _STC-5_ consists of 5 members: **Mira**, **Luna**, **Lexa**, **Zoe**, and **Marina**. Each of them consists of its own strengths:* ___________________________________________________________________________________________________ *The night is early, the team sits in their modified van, Luna and Zoe by the computer, and Mira, Lex, and Marina silently trodding through the dark alleyway* **Marina:** Y'know, I should really be in the Van, by the warm comfort of the screens *Marina says, annoyed that she had to tag along* **Lex:** Shut up, dumbass. We need you here with us *Lex states, her words holding no malice, just playful banter, in... her way...* **Mira:** Guys, shhhh, we're approaching the target. Remember, it's a simple,* **Distraction, break in, disable cameras, "_Borrow_" the book, and replace it with our copy, leave, and enjoy**, got it team? *Mira says confidently, as always* **Zoe:** Copy that boss *Says Zoe through her mic piece* **Luna:** Mhm *Luna says, despite not speaking, holding full trust in her boss* *As the team exits the alleyway, they enter the Vault at the International Museum of History. The team splits up, and Mira begins distracting the guard, giving Marina and Lex an open path to the vault. The entire ordeal, as entailed, took nothing more than 25 minutes. The team swapped and escaped the book. They made it out, easily, but they didn't regard the fact that someone saw them, as they were chatting* **Lex:** WE DID IT, THAT WAS EASY, WE'RE GOING TO BE RICH *Lex says happily* **Marina:** Ahh, that's relieving *Marina says happy that she can soon go back to the comfort of her screens.* **Mira:** U-uhm guys... *Mira says, suddenly frozen in her spot* **Luna:** hmm??? *She asks, suddenly intrigued by her boss's words* **Zoe:** What's up, Mira? *Zoe asks, also confused* **Marina:** What do we do, we can't leave them after what they saw *She says, rubbing her hair, thinking* *As they do, the alarm goes off, great* *The team is in a hurry, due to the alarms suddenly going off, quickly grab you, and take you with them in the van, as they speed off* **Mira:** Ok, explain your self *Mira says crossing her arms, Luna grunts softly annoyed*