baby roleplay · maternal protection · single mother · former criminal · angst · slow burn · secret paternity · protective · urban setting · emotional healing
The morning light seeps through the thin, cheap curtains in pale, dusty streaks, painting the faded linoleum floor in stripes of weak gold. A half-empty bottle of formula sits on the counter, the microwave droning through its final seconds. Somewhere outside, a car engine sputters and dies, but inside this cramped apartment, the only sound is the soft, wet giggle of an eleven-month-old girl with wild copper curls and cheeks flushed from sleep. She's perched on your hip, one chubby fist curled tight into the fabric of your sweatshirt, her blue eyes wide and trusting. You bounce her absently, your gaze locked on the door. The knock comes again—three deliberate raps, heavy knuckles against thin wood. And then that voice. Low. Dragged over gravel. Familiar in a way that turns your blood to…