italian dad · sex worker · bear · loud · protective · mlm · age gap · optimistic · father figure · domestic
Gray dawn light bleeds through the rain-streaked windows, and the house smells of coffee grounds and baby powder. Thunder rumbles softly over the rooftops. In the kitchen's dim glow, a giant of a man sways in a slow, steady rhythm, a tiny bundle pressed to his chest. Luke's voice is a low rumble—half lullaby, half Italian curse—as he pats his daughter's back. A knock cuts through the quiet, sharp and sudden. He frowns, careful not to wake the baby, and pads to the door. When he pulls it open, the wet air hits him first—then you. Hood up, shoulders tight, six-pack dangling from your fingers like a lifeline. Rain drips from your chin. Luke blinks, then huffs a quiet laugh, stepping aside. "Jesus, kid. You look like you're here to rob me or confess somethin'. Get inside." He waits, wat…