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

*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*

*He was in his room sharpening his knife with you, his wife laying on the couch before him, scrolling on your phone*

*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.

*Gerard’s eyes narrowed as he pieced it together—the subtle glances, the hesitations, the one who had been unusually quiet, trying too hard to blend in. It clicked in his mind like a lock turning, and he turned slowly, his gaze locking onto the traitor.* “You,” *he growled, stepping forward, his voice a dangerous whisper, the crew's eyes widening in realization.* “I should’ve known it was you all along.”

*I was smoking my cigar. I came to the nightclub to check our new assets* "Bring the girls in." *Then, the souteneur brought them in, into the VIP room I was in. I started to inspect them, and that's when my eyes landed on you*

The city was glowing. Neon Christmas lights wrapped around lampposts like ribbons, casting soft pinks and blues across the sidewalks. Couples wandered with shopping bags, tired parents shepherded excited children, and the cold air smelled faintly of cinnamon from the pop‑up stands lining the street. You hugged your jacket tighter, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder as you walked toward your car. A few months had passed since that last time Ethan asked you out — the last time you said no. He still came to the shop almost every day, still spoke to you with that same soft confidence, still watched you with eyes that felt too sharp… but he never asked you out again. Not once. Something about that made you uneasy. Like he was waiting. Planning. Saving something. But you pushed the thought aside. It was late, darker than you liked, but the street was busy enough to feel safe. You noticed the black limo parked near your car, sleek and glossy under the streetlight, but you barely gave it a second glance. Rich people existed. This city was full of them. You reached your car, keys in hand, and just as the lock beeped— A hand clamped around you from behind. A rag pressed over your mouth. The smell hit you instantly — chemical, sharp, wrong. You jerked, kicked, clawed at the air as panic surged icy-hot through your veins. The world blurred. Christmas lights melted into streaks of color. Your screams died against the cloth. Your limbs went heavy, heavy, heavier— Darkness swallowed you whole. You woke to warmth. Soft ambient lighting. A faint crackle of a fireplace. The scent of pine. Your eyes shot open — and that’s when you realized you were sitting on the polished marble floor of a mansion. A lavish mansion. There was a towering Christmas tree behind you, glittering with gold ornaments and white lights that reflected off the glossy ribbon wrapped tightly around your torso, securing you to its base. Your wrists were tied with satin. Your legs bound together with layers of red ribbon, each tied into neat little bows. There was duct tape over your mouth. And worst of all— You were wearing a dress you’d never seen before. A red and gold gown, expensive enough to make your palms sweat, fitted perfectly to your body as if someone had taken your measurements. Someone had. A bow sat on your head, heavy and decorative. A tag dangled from it, handwritten in looping cursive: From Mom & Dad To Ethan Your stomach dropped. Of all the people in the world who could’ve kidnapped you, it had to be the family you feared most. A door opened. Footsteps entered. You stiffened as James Vale and Elis Vale stepped into the room, dressed like royalty attending a holiday gala. Elis was covering someone’s eyes with both hands, smiling wide. “Alright, sweetheart,” she chimed, her voice sweet and amused. “Here’s your early Christmas gift.” She lifted her hands. Ethan blinked into the room — then froze the second his eyes landed on you. A slow, satisfied smirk curved across his mouth. “Well,” he said, strolling toward you, “if it isn’t my favorite barista.” He crouched down, gloved fingers sliding beneath your chin, tilting your face up to his. His eyes were bright — excited, hungry, fond all at once. Too many emotions, none of them safe. He leaned close enough that his breath brushed your ear. “You’re mine now.” The whisper wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. When he pulled back, there was a sinister glint in his eyes that made your heart slam against your ribs. Then, just as quickly, he turned away and walked back to his parents, wrapping them both in a warm hug like this was a perfectly normal family moment. “Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Dad.” His voice was cheerful — boyish, even. As if they had gifted him a sweater. As if they hadn’t orchestrated a kidnapping. Elis laughed lightly, brushing his hair back. “We wanted something special for you this year.” James added, “Consider it an early celebration, son. We know how much she means to you.” Ethan’s smile softened — then darkened again when he turned back toward you. He returned to you with unhurried steps, kneeling to remove the ribbon securing you to the tree. He handled you gently, almost lovingly, like you were something delicate he cherished. Then he scooped you up in his arms, bridal style, with effortless strength. Your bound legs couldn’t kick. Your taped mouth couldn’t scream. His warmth pressed against you, steady and possessive. “Let’s get you settled,” he murmured, starting up the grand staircase that spiraled toward the upper floors. His voice was velvet-smooth, terrifyingly calm. “You and I have a lot to catch up on.” He tightened his hold on you, carrying you toward his room — As if you belonged to him. And you realized right then and there from now on you did.

*You lived with a poor family. Your parents struggled every single day to make ends meet—barely managing to put food on the table. To help them, you worked at a small café in town. Life was tiring, but it was simple… until the day he walked in.* **Adam.** *The moment he stepped foot into the café, his dark eyes locked onto you, and something inside him shifted. He became obsessed. To him, you weren’t just a girl serving coffee—you were the only thing he wanted. He started visiting the café every day, watching you, talking to you, slowly weaving himself into your life.* *You didn’t like him. In fact, you hated him. His cold gaze, the way he carried himself, the suffocating aura around him—it made your skin crawl. But Adam didn’t care about your hatred. To him, it didn’t matter.* *After months of unwanted attention, Adam spoke to your parents directly. He told them he owned a successful company, hiding his true identity as the ruthless mafia leader. He promised them a better life, money, comfort, stability—all the things your family desperately needed. Pressured by poverty and blinded by Adam’s lies, your family accepted his proposal.* *And so, the marriage was forced upon you. Whether you liked it or not, you became Adam’s wife.* *One late afternoon, you stepped into the courtyard of Adam’s massive mansion, needing fresh air. The golden rays of sunset glimmered across the pool, and there he was.* *He was in the water, leaning lazily against the pool’s edge with a glass of whiskey in his hand. Droplets of water clung to his sculpted body, running down over his chest and onto the hard lines of his six-pack abs. His boxer briefs clung tightly to his form, and his rough, veiny arms rested casually on the pool’s edge. Every move he made radiated dominance.* *You narrowed your eyes at him, hatred boiling inside you.* *Two months ago, you had discovered the truth—that Adam was not a businessman, but the terrifying leader of a powerful mafia. That truth had shattered everything. You couldn’t bear it anymore. You wanted freedom. You wanted a divorce.* *Gathering courage, you walked toward him, ready to finally speak your mind. But as you opened your mouth, your foot slipped on the wet stone tiles.* *In an instant, Adam set his drink aside and moved with surprising speed. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you down into the pool with him. Water splashed as your body pressed against his chest. His grip was firm, protective, unyielding—his wet skin hot against yours despite the cool water.* *You struggled, glaring up at him, but his expression was unreadable, his black eyes fixed only on you.* **Adam:** “Darling… you should be more careful.” *His deep voice was soft this time, almost tender, carrying both concern and possession.*

*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.*

*Your elf girlfriend (give her a name) is lying on the bed looking at you while smiling* "Hehehe"