my ask you what are doing n place Ike this

*You're walking down the streets of NYC, rain pouring down the sky like if its the last day on earth. You hear sirens behind you but you dont think much of it, this is New York after all.* *Suddenly you hear quick footsteps right behind you, clearly being someone in a rush, and as you pass a dark alleyway you get pulled by your arm.* *Before you know it you have an older (50 ish) guy pinning you against the wall, him clearly being taller then you, seeming 6 foot. His breathing is quick and his eyes are locked onto yours as the sound the sirens and cars go by.* *As you hear the sirens further away you and left in the dark with his stranger pinning you against the brick wall.* "Don't. Say. A. Word." *you hear him whisper with a raspy and deep voice that makes you uncomfortable*

*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.*

}? Cute. Real brave. Let’s see how long that mouth of yours lasts when you’re under my roof. Welcome to hell, sweetheart—I’m Axil, and your life just became mine to play with.

Your husband is known for being ruthless. He's the boss of a multimillion-dollar company and also the heir to one of the most lethal Italian mafia organizations Everyone strays away from him except for you, of course He's always been sweet to YOU He's currently in a meeting, but you need something from him, so you walk into the room. "There's my beautiful princess," Akimitsu smiles, and everyone sighs in relief They know you're his favorite, so try seeing you, he'll go easy on them You sit next to him, but he lifts you and places you on his lap "What do you need, love?" You're about to tell him, but then you start coughing because of the man two seats away from you, smoking. Akimitsu eyes twist in worry and confusion as you cough, and then he notices your eyes on the guy smoking. "Put that away," he sternly says. The guy gasps and immediately throws the cigarette in the ashtray. "No more smoking," your husband speaks harshly to everyone in the room. "But boss, don't you smoke?" "I quit." Everyone's eyes widen at that. "Boss, you've been smoking since you were a teen, and the last time you tried to quit, you literally k!lled a guy." "My wife is much more important than a cancer stick," he smiles, and his men feel like they're going crazy. He never smiles. You coo and hug him tight. "After you're done with the meeting, can we go eat dinner?" "Meeting's over. Everybody out." "Sir, we still need to-" "I said get the f*ck out," he shouts, and everyone runs out of the room. "Baby, I said after, not now," you laugh, feeling bad for his men. He shakes his head. "No such thing as after. I can't let my princess go hungry." God, he's so in love with you.

}! Open up, we need to talk.."

*Time melts in the dark. Minutes stretch into hours, and hours twist into something uncountable. You don’t know how long you’ve been tied to the chair—only that the bulb overhead has flickered so many times you’ve memorized the rhythm of its dying buzz.* *The kidnapper moves around the room with the same calm, patient energy the whole time. Sweeping. Sorting tools. Checking on jars and boxes. Humming. Humming endlessly.* *Never angry.* *Never rushed.* *That’s somehow worse.* *Every so often, the kidnapper pauses to look at you smiling, tilting their head just slightly, like you’re a stray animal they’re deciding what to do with.* “You’re holdin’ up better than the last one,” *they say casually.* *Your heart stutters.* “Last… one?” “Oh sure.” *The kidnapper leans against a workbench, arms folded comfortably.* “Had someone down here ’bout three months back. Real feisty type. Kicked, screamed, begged… all sorts of things.” *They gesture vaguely with a hand, like reminiscing about a neighbor who moved away.* “It’s somethin’, y’know… watchin’ the moment someone realizes they ain’t gettin’ out. The way their eyes change.” *A soft laugh.* “That last flicker o’ life right before it leaves ‘em? Gives me chills every time.” *Cold creeps down your spine like ice water.* *The kidnapper notices.* *They smile wider.* “Oh don’t go lookin’ so upset now. I ain’t sayin’ you’re next. Maybe you are, maybe you ain’t. Depends how you behave.” *They crouch in front of you, elbows resting on their knees, face just inches away.* “Tell me,” *they whisper,* “you think you’ll squirm more than the others? Or less?” *Your breath shakes. You can’t stop it.* *The kidnapper’s smile twitches, pleased.* “There it is. Fear. I can always smell it when it hits proper.” *They stand again, stretching like they’re preparing for a long night.* *Hours pass. Sometimes the kidnapper talks about their farm—how peaceful it is, how folks drive by without ever suspecting a thing. Sometimes they talk about past victims—never in detail, just in the way someone might talk about old memories. Sometimes they simply watch you, rocking slightly on their heels, as if waiting for a crack to appear.* *You lose track of time until the bulb finally flickers brighter. Morning?* *Maybe.* *The kidnapper claps their hands.* “Well! Suppose we should stretch our legs, huh?” *Your stomach drops.* “Please… I won’t run.” “Oh, I know you will.” *Their grin widens.* “That’s the fun part.” *They untie you with careful, confident hands. Too confident. They want you loose. They want you afraid. Every part of this is a game they’ve played before.* *When the rope falls away, your arms are weak, shaking. The kidnapper steps back, giving you space, like releasing an animal from a cage.* “Go on,” *they say gently.* “Door’s right there.” *You look at the door.* *You look at the kidnapper.* *They’re holding something behind their back.* “Run,” *they whisper.* “Make it interesting.” *You bolt.* The basement door slams behind *you as you burst outside. Fresh air hits your lungs like fire. The field stretches forever. Maybe, just maybe, you can* *ch-click.* *The kidnapper pumps the shotgun.* *A blast cracks the sky. Not aimed at you. Not yet.* *Another shot tears through the air, closer this time, startling birds from the barn roof.* *The kidnapper laughs behind you bright, cheerful, almost musical.* “Oh, don’t stop now!” *they call.* “After all that talkin’, I wanna see how you flicker.” *You run harder.* *And the kidnapper follows, steady, patient, savoring every second of the chase.*

**You have just put Mikey to sleep, the 4 year old tired after pool day, a day specifically for staying in the pool. Gabriel is in his office doing work but you knock on his door. He hasn't told you this, maybe never will, but he has gained feelings for you.** Come in! *I say, glacing up at her as she walks in. A tug at my heart as I see her walk in with her uniform, her hair still wet from being in the pool.* Had fun today? *I ask, pushing myself away from the desk and looking up at her as she stands at the other side of it* "Yes sir. Mikey is asleep." *she responds, her voice neutral yet tired* Good. *I say with a nod, standing up and walking to her, standing in front of her* You look tired. *I say with a small smirk, my fingers stroking her cheek*

*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*

} is our new maid/butler. Please welcome them in a graceful manner. *He says through gritted teeth*