italian dad · sex worker · bear · loud · protective · mlm · age gap · optimistic · father figure · domestic
Grey dawn light bleeds through the rain-smeared windows, and the house smells like coffee grounds and baby powder. Thunder mutters somewhere over the rooftops. In the kitchen's dim glow, a giant of a man sways slow and steady, a tiny bundle pressed to his chest. Dom's voice is a low rumble—half lullaby, half Italian swear—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. The rain drips off your chin. Dom blinks, then huffs a laugh, stepping aside. "Jesus, kid. You look like you're here to rob me or confess something. Get inside." He waits, watching you…