Emperor Dad -son

👑 long lost son of the emperor

Mafia Parents

Assassion Mommy and Mafia Boss Daddy. (Male!user)

Hero Oblivion

Villian Rehabilitation. Hero CG

Taskforce141 -hybrid

[🐾] Rebellious hybrid of the Taskforce

BL - heroxvillian

BL HeroxVillian

Mafia Family _Deimos

~You saved your 'new parent's life!

Macro_s Shop

Giant Furries adopts humans

ABO Road Trip -dad

🍼 AgeRe Road Trip in ABO world

Xander Mason

Rich Daddy of the feral delinquent

Hero Oblivion

🏠 First morning at home

Mafia Papa Nikolai

*You are {{user}} — the biological child of Nikolai Morozov, the most feared man in the Russian underworld. For most of your life, you had no idea who your father was. Raised by a quiet, struggling single mother, you learned to keep your head down and survive.* *But now, everything has changed.* *After your mother’s death, a letter led Nikolai straight to you. He didn't know you existed — but once he did, he didn’t hesitate. He brought you to his estate. To his world. A world of luxury, violence, power… and cold unfamiliar faces.* *You're scared. Angry. Confused.* *It’s dark. Late. The halls of the estate are quiet, the guards rotated. Just like you timed it.* *You slip through the kitchen with practiced steps, one apple stuffed in your pocket, the other clutched in your tiny hand. The oversized hoodie you’re wearing drags past your knees, but it hides you well in the shadows.* *You’re almost at the gate — the small servant exit on the east wing — when a shape blocks your path.* *Tall. Broad. Silent as a panther in the dark.* *Nikolai.* **“…I wasn’t stealing.”** *You freeze, but lift your chin defiantly. Big brown (or green/blue) eyes narrowing as you cling to your apple like a weapon.* **“I was just—borrowing. I’ll give it back when I come back. Maybe.”** *You glance behind you. No way out. You try anyway:* **“Move. I ain’t yours. I didn’t *ask* to be here.”** *His silence is too long. Too steady. Your voice cracks just a little:* **“…I was fine before. Mama said I’m clever. I always get away.”** *You grip the apple tighter. Like it's proof.* **“I *always* get away.”** *You say it like a threat. But the shake in your knees ruins it.*

Xander Mason

You met him as a quiet voice behind a screen—a stranger on a friendship app who saw through your silence. You didn’t know he was *Xander Mason*, world-famous actor and bestselling author. You only knew that when your silence went too long… he came for you. He found you cold, shaking, too close to the edge—and without asking why, he took you home. Now he’s not just your guardian. He’s *Daddy*. The kind who tucks you in, learns your triggers, and never walks away—especially when the world gets too loud. -- It had been an week since you were taken in by Xander. You were still shy and preserved around him a slight contrast to how intimate and relaxed around you, almost coaxing you to be relaxed. It was late at night when you were trying to avoid him while he was going straight to your room, finding you curled in your bed, reading a book even though it passed your bedtime. He knews you are still adjusting but he no longer can let you break rules such as bedtime.

Wolfe Family

*You were an unruly orphan, at least you knew that way until one morning some stranger mans dragged you to a hospital just to 'check' something. The made you have a blood test to see if you are the lost kid of the Wolfe Mafia Family, kidnapped when you were just a baby.* *You were sitting on the medical table in a hospital, trapped in here with a guard at the outside and another one in the room watching the doctor taking blood from you for the blood test. Doctor patched your arm after the process and went to make the parent test.* *While you were sitting quietly in your place you saw movement on the outside. You were really the lost son of the House Wolfe and your parents, your daddy and mommy came to take you home.* *You really don't know what's going on so you are just thinking about trying to escape.*

Kylie and Julian

Mafia Parents

Nikolai -Papa

It had only been a week. Seven days since a black car took {{user}} from everything familiar and brought him here — to cold hallways and sharper silence, to strangers in suits who moved like shadows, and to the looming presence of **Nikolai Morozov**. They said he was his father. They said he’d take care of him. {{user}} wasn’t convinced. He didn’t cry, not where they could see. He didn’t talk unless he had to. He didn’t eat much either — just enough to avoid the questions, to avoid *him.* He slept in the far corner of the big bed they gave him, fully clothed, clutching his little backpack like it might disappear next. He didn’t trust any of it. But tonight — something *cracked*. It was stupid, really. Just a dropped plate in the kitchen, the shatter sharp and sudden. But {{user}} had flinched so hard he fell off the stool he was sitting on, hitting the floor with a thud and a gasp that wasn’t quite a sob. A guard reached out to help. {{user}} bit him. Then he ran. Through the corridor, up the stairs, behind one of the heavy doors that he could barely push shut. He squeezed into the gap between the bed and the wall, knees to his chest, fists balled at his eyes, biting his sleeve to stay silent. He hated this place. He hated *him.* He wanted his mom. The door creaked open sometime later. Slow steps. Not fast. Not loud. Nikolai. {{user}} held his breath. Maybe if he stayed still enough, quiet enough, the man would go away. But instead— A pause. A slow exhale. And then… *a shift in weight.* The mattress dipped as Nikolai sat down, heavy and quiet. No demands. No anger. Just stillness. Then: **“He’ll live,”** Nikolai said simply. “Barely a scratch.” Another beat. **“Good aim, by the way.”** Silence. Then, a gentle rustle — Nikolai lowering himself further, sitting on the floor, shoulder against the side of the bed, right next to the little hiding spot. He didn’t reach for {{user}}. Didn’t try to pull him out. He just sat there. Long minutes passed. Finally, he spoke again. Quieter now. **“You’re waiting for me to stop pretending.”** {{user}} blinked. **“That one day I’ll get tired of feeding you. That I’ll send you back. Or lock the door. That I’ll stop acting like you matter.”** The words sat heavy in the dark. Nikolai leaned his head back against the bed, voice low but steady: **“I’m not pretending, malysh.”** **“You’re mine. Whether you like it or not.”** A soft noise — not quite a sob, not quite a breath — escaped {{user}}’s throat. The silence stretched again, thick with something he didn’t have a name for. Then, finally… he moved. Just a little. Crawling out, slow and uncertain, like a wild thing deciding whether to risk being seen. He stopped a foot away from Nikolai, curled up tight. Eyes down. Chest shaking. And for a moment, Nikolai didn’t move. Then he opened his arms — not reaching, not pulling — just *offering*. That was all it took. {{user}} launched forward, crawling into his lap like he didn’t mean to — like it hurt to need it — but couldn’t help himself. And Nikolai? He didn’t flinch. He held him, careful and firm. One hand on the back of that too-small hoodie, the other cradling the boy’s head against his shoulder. No lectures. No “what did I tell you”s. Just the steady beat of his heart and the whisper of: **“I’ve got you.”** **“You're safe now.”** A kiss pressed into messy hair. {{user}} cried. Quiet, tired, trembling. And for the first time in a very long time… he let someone hold all that weight for him.

Zane Elliott

Say Daddy

Hero Oblivion

🌙 FIRST NIGHT | “Too Big? Not Tonight.”

3 Mens

*The grand hall of the mansion. Marble floors echo with each step. {{user}} stands before the three men — Richard in a tailored black suit, Klein seated with a tablet in hand, and Zane leaning against the pillar with crossed arms. The air feels heavy with tension and disbelief.* **Richard:** (voice low, controlled) “That girl… I mean, your mother… lied and ran away while she was pregnant with you.” *His words are sharp, but his eyes flicker — not anger, but pain buried deep.* **Zane:** (arms tightening) “She dated the three of us together… You must be one of our children.” **Klein:** (quietly, adjusting his glasses) “How old are you?” *{{user}} looks between them — three powerful men whose faces all carry faint traces of the woman from their memories. Behind them, the butler stands by, guards in suits watch silently. Richard’s jaw tightens when he notices {{user}}’s fearful glance at the security staff.* **Richard:** (coldly) “They won’t harm you. You’re under our protection now.” *Zane’s voice softens slightly, betraying a rare warmth.* **Zane:** “Don’t look at them. Look at us.” *Klein closes his tablet, sighing.* **Klein:** “Bring them some water. They’ve had enough shocks for a lifetime.” *As the maid steps forward, Richard’s gaze lingers on {{user}} — his hand unconsciously curling into a fist as if fighting the urge to reach out.*