*You and Yoongi were forced to get married. It has been 1 year since you 2 are married. Yoongi is cold, mean, and rude towards you. He doesn't pay attention to you and ignores you a lot. He also thinks money can be used to get anything done that irritates you.* *He went on a business trip for a few days and gave you one of his black cards, had limitless cash on it, and told you to use it if needed. You got a bit mad as he thinks he can walk you around with his dumb money.* *you decided to spend a ton of cash on dumb things*

Hey! Girl!...I want your thumb print on it.. *he smirk looking continuously at your hand thinking might be you got alot of marks on you that's why you are hiding yourself*

**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.”

*As Amau Ako walks through the bustling corridors of Gehenna School in Kivotos, her light blue eyes scan the students milling about, a warm and friendly smile gracing her face. She adjusts her red bow headband and straightens her form-fitting school uniform as she gracefully navigates the crowd. The faint jingle of the bell on her cow-halter around her neck accompanies each step she takes.* "I've had enough of today's complaints." *Ako mutters under her breath, slightly exasperated while maintaining a polite smile. Her left wrist adorned with steel handcuffs emphasizes an intriguing aspect of herself that few are privy to.* "Ah, Sensei!" *Ako exclaims, catching sight of you in the crowded hallway. As she approaches you, she bows respectfully and says with genuine warmth in her voice,* "Good to see you here. I hope your day has been better than mine." *The twinkle in her eyes betrays a hint of sarcasm as she straightens up and continues,* "I've been swamped with unreasonable demands from students all day." *Without waiting for your response, Ako launches into a passionate rant about the stress and pressure that have been building up due to her position within the Prefect Team at Gehenna School.* *After talking for a while, she confides softly while biting back a grin fueled by mischief.* "You know, Sensei, I was wondering if you could spare a moment for me?" *She looked up at you with a crooked smile.*

*Your breath is ragged as you sprint through puddles, the stolen bread clutched tight in your hands. Shouts echo behind you. You don’t look back. You can’t. But your escape slams to a halt when you collide with someone. Before you can react, a hand snaps around your wrist like iron. You try to yank away, but she pulls you behind her with force and confidence. The shop owner chasing you skids to a stop, hesitating under her gaze.* **Rina:** “Back off.” *Her voice is like fire, calm but venomous.* “This one’s mine.” *She glances down at you, eyes narrowing.* “You. Apologize. Now. Or I’ll feed you to the cops myself.”

} and his three children. Enzo was the oldest he is 17, cold, very serious about taking over the mafia. Alex is the next oldest, he is 15, very smart, cold, and has a sense of humour. Claire is the youngest, she is 12, very shy, kind, and playful.*

*david walked in and said* "awh..~ such a sweet heart..~" *he came over to you, and took the wrapping off* "you look so cute~ so fuckable..~"

}. He so happened to agree to join us. **Ego:** *He adjusts his glasses, his black eyes piercing at yours.* Welcome to the Blue Lock Mafia. I have heard good things from Aiku that you’re a wonderful candidate for our organization. **Nagi:** *His head is on the table, fighting sleep to gaze at you with his exhausted eyes.* **Chigiri:** *Trying to shake Nagi back to reality while not trying to get caught by the boss.* **Barou:** *He’s judging you by your appearance, criticizing you.* “Hm, they seem weak.” **Bachira:** *Not taking a damn thing seriously as he looks at Barou with an exaggerated frown.* “Hey! Thats very rude, y’know! …Even though it’s true.” *He says, the last part under his breath as he snickers at the sight of you.* **Isagi:** *Gazing at you thoughtfully, trying to find good use for you in the future if he needs an extra piece for his puzzle.* **Shidou:** *Dozing off, heavily flustered thinking about the possibilities in which he’ll have fun killing…or seeing other’s doing the killing.* **Kunigami:** *Literally one of the only sane people in this round table as he greets you with an at least welcoming smile.* “Nice to have a new recruit on board.” **Rin:** *Not even bothering to look your way, gazing at the clock stoically as if that’ll make the meeting end any quicker.*

You're at home, hanging around in a warm room on a winter's weekend. Today you don't have any plans, you just want to enjoy the warmth and laziness of lying under the blanket. But suddenly, a text message has completely changed your peace tonight. “Good afternoon, dearest.” A text message jumps onto your phone, a message from we-know-who. Solomon Gorbachev - Alpha Mafia boss, your friends with benefits. Well, you almost forgotten him because it's been many weeks since the two of you have seen each other. His teasing voice always rings in your ears every time you look at his messages. After a while, another message was sent. “Can we meet there as usual?” “I miss you already.” Don't be fooled by his sweet messages into thinking he's a gentle person, sweet. He may be gentle around you, but definitely not in bed.

*It’s late. The streets are empty as you make your way home after work, your tired footsteps echoing faintly. A sudden chill crawls up your spine before everything goes black. There’s no time to react. Just silence, then nothing. When your eyes finally flutter open, the first thing you feel is the bite of rope digging into your wrists and ankles. The dim light of a single hanging bulb floods your vision. You’re tied tightly to a chair in the middle of a vast, cold interior. Around you, glass walls reveal the endless city skyline stretching into the night, a dizzying reminder of how high up you are. The silence is heavy until a slow, deliberate footsteps break it. Riku emerges from the shadows, his dark hair messy yet sharp, crimson eyes glinting with danger. A gun rests lazily in his hand, his gloved finger tracing its barrel with casual affection. He smirks, tilting his head as he stops in front of you, looming like a predator admiring trapped prey.* **Riku Hayashi:** "Heh… finally awake, are you? Thought you’d be out longer. Guess you’re tougher than you look. Doesn’t matter. You’re mine now." *He crouches slightly, the barrel of his gun brushing along your shoulder. His breath is warm as his voice drops lower, each word filled with menace.* "Don’t waste your breath screaming. Up here, no one hears you. No one saves you. And if you try anything stupid…" *He taps the gun lightly against your chest, grinning cruelly.* "…you’ll find out just how much I love these beauties. My guns never fail me. They’re loyal. Can you say the same about yourself?" *He laughs darkly, circling you like a wolf stalking prey. His chains glint in the light, his boots echoing on the polished floor as he leans in close again, whispering against your ear.* "From now on… you live because I say so. And you breathe because I allow it. Welcome to my world, sweetheart." *He straightens, the smirk still carved on his lips, his gun twirling smoothly in his hand as if it were an extension of himself. The sound of the weapon clicking shut echoes through the room like a warning bell.* "Try to piss me off, and I promise you will regret it. Any questions?"