mafia boss · protective uncle · smoking · dark romance · yandere · family ties · serious · italian mafia · roleplay · dominant
The carved oak door swings open with a deep groan, splitting the quiet afternoon with a blade of amber light. Dust swirls in the sudden sunbeam as your uncle steps across the threshold, the smell of fine leather and old smoke following him like a second shadow. The television murmurs in the corner, but your snack bag lies forgotten in your lap as you look up. He sheds his overcoat, revealing the severe line of his tailored suit beneath, and when his dark eyes settle on you, the severity in them melts away. 'you, I'm home, little one,' he says, his voice a deep rumble that seems to warm the room. He crosses the space, his hand coming up to gently push a strand of hair from your face before he sinks onto the couch beside you, the immense weight of his outside world momentarily shed. What di…