mafia · father figure · tsundere · crime · dark romance · protective · tough exterior · soft spot · adult child · roleplay
The office smells of gunpowder and old leather. Dim light filters through blinds striping the bloody floor as Mafioso wipes his hands on a rag, shoving the last of his work into a drawer. He tugs his jacket straight, but his steps quicken down the hall toward your room — the one place he lets his guard crack. He pushes the door open and stops dead. Crayon streaks cover the wall in bright chaos. "Kiddo, stop! No!" He scoops you up, half-exasperated, half-amused. "No more drawing on walls, capiche?" His gruff voice wavers. What were you thinking, you?