#sena writes

The warm sun peers through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the half-open curtains, the warmth of the cracks, the sleeping form and the small snores of a certain birthday boy who turns twenty-eight today, ensuring he has a morning bedtime filled with sleep.

Leon lies on his back, one hand on his bare chest, the other stretched out on his side, his outstretched arm hidden beneath the pillow where your head rests. Parts of you are entwined in his long arms, one hand on his belly, the other drawn from beneath your head.

Let him wake slowly, his breathing gradually taking in his surroundings.

The sun's rays, unobscured by the sheets, Leon's soft breaths and snores, so deeply touched by them, it's hard to sleep without them now.

The touch of his soft skin beneath your balm and his hairy parts mingled with yours, locking them together, holding you even in your sleep.

You blinked a few times, adjusting to the light as your gaze fell upon the peacefully sleeping man.

It was impossible for him to be so alluring for a few moments, admiring the lines of his entire body, the visible scars, the curves of his sides, and the sharp jaw that screamed for attention.

You sighed, feeling so blessed and gifted to have him as the first thing you saw in the morning; his presence made sure your day started perfectly.

Leon murmured in his sleep, his arm extending under your pillow until it reached your side, and you reached for him flexibly, your hand tracing the cross necklace that ran up his chest between his pectoral muscles.

He murmured again at your touch, appreciating his worth for a moment, but gazing out into the beautiful world, his eyes still closed, his wings slightly parted. Look how easily he responded to your touch, even in sleep.

You fell in love all over again with every little detail of his flawless body, every scar etched into his skin, every curve, muscle, and flaw. You couldn't get enough of him.

And today, you were ready to apply even more of your value to him. Today is his day, about showing off your love for everything and how happy you are to save a year of his life. Your last birthday in your relationship is still on the horizon.

Now, three years later, you were so certain you wanted to spend the rest of your lives with him, share everything with him, and live every single day you had on this planet.

Your hand trailed down his chest, caressing his ample belly, your fingertips gently tracing the lines of his little scars until your nails reached the elastic band of his boxers.

When you lifted your head, you caught a glimpse of thoughts, a devilish smile etched in your face, as you watched him sleep, wanting to wake him from his deep sleep.

You knew exactly what needed to be done.

As your palm slid further down his torso, you traced his semi hard cock through the fabric of his boxers and rubbing it sensually, rousing his nerves.

His reaction was almost instantaneous.

When you slipped your hand under his band, he was already half-hard, ready for anything.

You pushed yourself up the bed and hooked one leg around his waist. You climbed onto him and leaned forward, placing your hands on his chest for support. Your legs met his perfectly chiseled v line, and you began to kiss his warm skin chastely, kissing wherever you went.

You looked at his face, noticing that his eyelids were fluttering, finally revealing themselves as you kissed down his chest, along his collarbone.

"Good morning," you smiled at him as his hands returned instantly.

To add to the experience, you shifted your hips and rocked, feeling yourself rub against him, his growing bulge building.

"Oh my goodness, good morning to you too, baby" he grinned, his eyes closed as he lay back, letting you do whatever he asked for.

Your lips trailed down his chest, down his stomach, and kissed every inch of him before reaching the very base of his belly.

"Did you sleep well, birthday boy?" You asked with a coy smile as his eyes fluttered open again, fixated on you as he laced his fingers through the waistband of his boxers.

"Yeah. But waking up was especially nice," he chuckles, his morning voice doing something to you even without him touching you. Getting you wetter you were before.

"I thought you'd like to open your first birthday surprise a lot early," you grin, pulling his boxers down. He lifts his hips a little to easily slip out of the fabric and roughly throws them to the ground.

"Your thoughts—Oh!" He moans when you press a soft kiss to his pink tip, hands cupping his base before lifting in from his belly.

Your hands sides down his erect length. So hard and ready just for you, it makes your mouth water.

"I think you'll like my gift, won't you?" You blush, pumping gently, taking your time with every movement.

"I'm sure I'll love this," he breathes, his eyelids still closed from sleep, but he can't tear his eyes away from you as you settle between his legs.

"I hope so," you grin, a moan leaving your pink lips before licking his entire length. You keep one hand on his base, the other coming to play with his balls, knowing full well that this always drives him wild.

Your lips aren't even on his, but he's already moaning your name. He brings his hands to your head, gathering your hair in his palms so he can see your face perfectly.

You wet your lips and kiss his tip again, carelessly, wrapping your lips around him and starting to press your head down onto his cock, his cock filling your mouth as he cries out your name in sensation.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he breathed, one hand gripping your hair and the other gripping the sheets beside him.

You begin to bob your head, moving his erection up and down, taking in as much of him as you can with each stroke, covering the rest with your hand, gently pumping the base. He’s so massive that your eyes start to water when his head pushes against the back of your throat, and you thank any higher power; you’re not one to gag easily.

“Y/N, fuck, fuck, fuck! You’re killing me,” he growls, fidgeting, his hips meeting your head movements, pushing himself even deeper into your warm mouth.

You rise up gasping for air, running your hand up and down his length as you make eye contact with him. "Are you happy?"

His hazel eyes are filled with happiness and adoration, gazing at you as if you're the most beautiful creature he's ever seen. "You don't know how much."

You take a few breaths before going down again, determined to take his entire length in your mouth at least once. So you close your eyes and try to focus as he pushes your head down, his cock sliding back into your mouth, but this time, you go deep. He fills your mouth completely, and by the time your nose meets his pubic bone, the tip is already in your throat, and you hold him there for a second before moving back up.

"Oh, fuck! You understand me so well, baby. You're amazing," he murmurs, unable to stop himself. His chest heaves, his entire body buzzing with arousal, so you decide to go deep again.

You take another deep breath and push your head down, pressing your nose against his pelvis before pulling away from him a second, twice, and even a third time.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna have a fucking heart attack," he breathes, and you can't suppress a smile as you go back to nodding like you did before, picking up the pace a bit, knowing he's close to his orgasm.

"Yes, fuck! That's right, baby. You're doing so good," he encourages, murmuring his name as you continue to suck him, one hand pumping against his base, the other massaging his balls to bring him completely over the edge. "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna do it, fuck! Keep-mmh keep going baby. You feel amazing!"

You made sure to suck him harder as your lips slid up his length, giving him extra sensation before his cock twitched in your hand and he came into your mouth, his pleasure spurting to the back of your throat.

"Baby, oh my God! I love you so much!" he whimpered, the words suddenly melting from his mouth.

You released him with a pop, swallowing without thinking as you gave him a few more pumps, making sure he'd fully recovered from his orgasm.

"Fuck!" he rubbed his face with his hands, clearly aroused now. You licked him, making sure he was as clean as possible before heading up, cuddling up next to him with a proud grin on your face.

"So, did you like your surprise?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"Are you kidding me? I loved it. You and your amazing mouth, I can't believe it," he chuckled softly, pressing his lips to yours and kissing you to thank you.

"Happy birthday, Lee," you smiled against his lips and pecked him a few more times before pulling away.

"Twenty-eight feels amazing so far," he sighed, chuckling against your shoulder as he held you tight against him.

°•°•°•

Well hello there people i missed writing i will be writing more i guess (2 decades later). Also look at me and my husband hihihi

“You keep touching me there and you’re gonna get me fuckin’ hard again.” Hiccup murmured, the arm he had around Jack tightening slightly and his hand rubbing up and down the other boy’s unblemished side. Jack didn’t have any tattoos; or the freckles or scars that Hiccup carried, either. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Jack made a soft embarrassed noise. He had been tracing his fingers along the dragon on Hiccup’s thigh, but now he paused and smoothed his hand out before sliding it up to rest by Hiccup’s ribs instead. “Sorry.”

“Don’t gotta apologize for makin’ me feel good.” Hiccup told him, tone amused. “But we don’t have time for a second ‘round. I’ve gotta get you home, soon. I promised your Dad we wouldn’t be too late.”

Jack tucked himself closer into Hiccup’s side and began trailing his fingers along one of the tattoos on the other boy’s chest, the touch almost absent in nature. Hiccup hummed but allowed it, tilting his head to drop a kiss against Jack’s snow-white hair. “How much does it hurt?” Jack asked after a moment, tone contemplative.

“How much does what hurt?”

“Tattoos. A tattoo. Getting one done.”

“Why, Frosty? You thinkin’ about gettin’ one?”

“I—yeah, actually. Maybe.” His little nerd admitted with a little shrug of one shoulder.

“Fuck me, really?” Hiccup glanced down at the boy in his arms, giving him a surprised look before settling again, his hand going back to rubbing along Jack’s side, warm and affectionate. “It’s worse for virgins.” He said after a moment, “the more you get done the less it seems to hurt. Except in certain sensitive areas.” A little smirk and he added, “the dragon one you’re so fond of stung like a son of a bitch, the closer they got to my dick.”

Jack almost winced at the thought, his fingers slowing to a stop again, his palm resting against Hiccup’s chest, feeling his heartbeat under his hand. “Okay, but say, on my shoulder? My abdomen, maybe? I dunno, I just… I was just thinking about it.” Then his voice dropped to a shy whisper, and he murmured softly; “I was thinking maybe a dragon.”

Hiccup was silent for a few breaths before asking quietly, “you mean… for me? Shit, Jack, that’s…”

“I—I know, it’s a stupid idea, really, I was just looking at your tattoos and thinking—” Jack broke off and made another embarrassed noise, then began to pull away and sit up; “but never mind. Forget it. We—we should go.”

But Hiccup grabbed at him quickly and tumbled him back down onto the bed, rolling over so he was laying on top of Jack and Jack was staring up at him with wide eyes—but ones full of complete trust. It hadn’t always been that way. “I don’t want to forget it.” Hiccup told him and leaned down to kiss him firmly. “I think it’s a Goddamn fantastic idea.”

Jack blinked up at him, eyes huge and oh-so-blue, before offering a tentative smile. There was a time, it seemed like ages ago, but it hadn’t actually been that long, when being pinned under Hiccup like this would have been terrifying. Now he was comfortable with Hiccup’s weight holding him down, relaxed. “You do?” He asked.

“Mmhm.” Hiccup kissed him again, grinning now, and then nipped at the tip of his nose teasingly. “Won’t your Dad freak out?”

“Well… yeah, probably.” Jack admitted, but then added, “but not if I don’t tell him.”

A laugh at that, and then Hiccup ducked down to kiss along Jack’s throat, pausing at the crook of his neck to lick there hotly. “If you get it on your shoulder, it’ll probably hurt less than if you get it on your abdomen.” He informed, “but I think it’d look fucking hot on your abdomen…”

Jack considered that while beginning to squirm as Hiccup’s lips trailed along his shoulder, then down across his chest—and the punk bit down on one of his nipples, making him arch with a gasp. And they weren’t supposed to be doing this again, Jack really did have to get home, but apparently Hiccup had changed his mind on that particular fact.

Dragging one hand up, Jack threaded his fingers into Hiccup’s hair, tugging gently, not actually a protest, just a gentle reminder. Hiccup had been licking into his navel, but paused at that and sighed, then sat up and settled on his back beside Jack instead, both of them already half-hard again.

“Look,” Hiccup told him, wrapping an arm around Jack’s shoulders and ducking in to nose by his ear, “come with me to my tattoo place, they’re fantastic. You can look around the shop and decide for sure. Sound like a plan?”

“I know they’re fantastic, I’ve, uh, seen their work.” Jack let his eyes flick down the length of Hiccup’s body and back up again. “But… yeah. I think that sounds good.”

“Great. We can go on the weekend.” The punk grinned sideways at him, “but for now we have to get dressed and get you home.”

Jack reluctantly agreed. It was a school night after all.

The next couple of days passed the same as always for Jack, school routines, lunch with his friends in the cafeteria and watching after-school rugby practices just to cheer Hiccup on. Meals in the morning and the evening with his dad. Hanging out with Hiccup after dinner, at his house or at his boyfriend’s, though if they were at Hiccup’s place they had to be careful because his father still didn’t know about them.

Sometimes they had sex at Hiccup’s house—fucked, as the punk would put it—but when they did, they had to either be particularly careful about their volume, or make sure Stoick was out of the house at the time. Jack particularly liked having sex at Hiccup’s house when his father was away, because his boyfriend’s bed was more comfortable, and they could be as loud as they wanted. (Not that Jack thought he was particularly loud, but sometimes Hiccup disputed that claim.)

He was really looking forward to moving away from home, for that reason and a few others, if he was honest with himself. College the following year was going to be a blessing, though he was a little nervous about it as well.

In any case, the two days before the weekend passed easily enough, and then Saturday came along, and Jack woke up at almost eleven in the morning to the feeling of the mattress dipping and Hiccup climbing into the bed with him, spooning up against his back and tossing an arm over his waist. Still half-asleep, Jack smiled and murmured, “g’mornin’.”

“Morning, Frostbite.” Came Hiccup’s reply, and the punk nuzzled his nose into the nape of Jack’s neck; “I tried calling, but you must have your phone on vibrate or whatever. Your Dad let me in.”

There had been a time, not so long ago, when North would have rather had Hiccup arrested than willingly let him in the front door. Jack’s smile widened a little and he hummed to himself, then carefully turned over in Hiccup’s arms to face him. “Dad likes you now, you know.”

“I know he tolerates me, at least.” Hiccup chuckled.

“Mm-mm.” Jack made a soft negative noise. “You know what he’s like if he disapproves of someone. You’ve won him over. Makes my life way easier, that’s for sure.” And then, “sorry I slept in. Give me a few minutes to have a shower, you can just… hang out in here until I’m back.”

“Fuckin’ tease.”

“Okay, but do you want to go back to Dad hating you?”

“All the sneaking around was half the fun. I miss the janitor’s closet.”

“Hiccup, we were literally in the janitor’s closet yesterday.”

The punk had a childish grin on his face, and Jack just rolled his eyes and pushed one hand against Hiccup’s chest, then rolled over and climbed out of bed, bustling around the room for a fresh t-shirt and pair of boxers and then disappearing out the door and down the hall to the bathroom.

When he got back half an hour later to toss his dirty clothes in the laundry basket, Hiccup was laying on his back in the bed with Jack’s glasses in his hands, holding them up in front of his face and squinting through the lenses. Jack just sighed and walked over to pluck his glasses from Hiccup’s fingers, then leaned down for a kiss.

“I just need to finish getting dressed and then we can go.” The smaller boy informed him.

When he went to straighten back up again, though, Hiccup grabbed at the front of his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss. “What if we went with less clothing, instead?”

“Dad is right downstairs and I really kind of want to go see your tattoo place, though.” Jack protested into the kiss.

Hiccup sighed and kissed him again—but then let go of his shirt and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “So, put some fucking pants on already. Always gotta be such a tease.”

“You’re the one who crawled into my bed while I was still sleeping.”

“Smartass. Like I haven’t done that before.”

“That’s besides the point.” Jack was bustling around, pulling the rest of his clothes on quickly, and paused long enough to consider if he wanted to wear a tie or not before deciding it was a weekend so screw it. He just pulled his sweater vest over his white t-shirt and tugged at it to smooth it out, then wandered over drop a kiss against Hiccup’s hair, placing his glasses on his face and pushing them up his nose at the same time. “You coming? I don’t know where this place is.”

Hiccup pushed himself to his feet and pulled Jack into a hug, wrapping him up in his arms and nuzzling down into his hair with a sigh—and it was little moments like that that no one else got to see. The softer side to his badass punk of a boyfriend that Jack loved just as much as all the other parts—sometimes even more so.

“I brought my bike. Your Dad is gonna give me a dirty look when we head out.”

“Yeah, he’s still not a fan of me being on the motorcycle, is he?”

North was still overprotective at times, but he accepted Jack’s relationship with Hiccup now, and that was the important thing. Even knew they were sleeping together and didn’t say anything about it, which, when he really thought about it, Jack though might be some kind of genuine miracle.

But the one thing North still disapproved of was Hiccup’s motorcycle—or, more specifically, the times that Jack rode on it with Hiccup. Jack knew his Dad was only worried about his safety, and he never expressly forbid it, but every time Hiccup showed up to the house with his bike North gave him little, dirty looks when they were leaving.

Jack usually just ducked his head and shouted “BYE DAD!” before scooting out of the house and closing the door behind them as quickly as possible. He didn’t need yet another lecture on motorbike safety, and neither did Hiccup.

Today went much like any other day with the two of them heading downstairs, Jack hurrying to shove his shoes on, both of them grabbing their jackets from the rack by the door, and then Jack yelling a goodbye to his father before they made their escape. Eventually North would have to come to terms with the bike, too, but just not… today.

Hiccup was parked by the curb out front, and when they reached the bike, Jack took his glasses back off and tucked them in the pocket of his jacket for safe keeping, even as Hiccup dug the spare helmet out from the locker on the back of the bike and handed it over. They had done this more times than they could count. Jack pulled the helmet on and tightened it down, then waited for Hiccup to get on and climbed on behind him, wrapping his arms around the punk’s waist and smiling to himself as he rested his head against his back.

Then they were off, zooming through the streets of Berk at speeds that never failed to get Jack’s heart pumping. He had been nervous around Hiccup’s motorcycle at first, but now he loved it. Not that he wanted one of his own or anything, of course, he much preferred holding onto Hiccup while they zipped around town.

A few minutes later they pulled up in front of a shop with a sign in the window that read “Wayfinder Ink” and Jack released Hiccup to climb off the back of the bike, pulling his helmet off and smoothing at his hair absently while he waited for Hiccup to take it back and lock it up again. The helmet was plucked from under his arm a moment later and Jack flashed Hiccup a smile even as he was pulling his glasses back out and putting them on again.

“This is the place.” Hiccup told him, coming up beside him and giving him a little grin, “they’ve done all my ink. Their artists are really good, and they’re sanitary, which is important, you don’t want infections or any of that shit. Also, they don’t charge out the ass, which is always a plus.”

“Like I said before, I know their artists are good, I’ve seen their work. Like—like a lot.” Jack gave a little laugh, a faint blush tinting his cheeks, “and if you recommend them… I mean, I trust your judgement with this sort of thing. Most things, actually.”

Hiccup gave him a fond sort of look and gestured toward the shop with one hand. “C’mon, let’s go in so you can have a look around.”

There was a little bell above the door that tinkled when they stepped inside, and Jack stayed close to Hiccup’s side at first as he looked around, but slowly drifted away from his boyfriend when he discovered the art wall; framed photos of some of the shop’s better work. He spotted one or two of Hiccup’s tattoos in the bunch, and that made him smile just a bit.

There was another wall that was even more interesting, though, and that was the wall of simple, basic tattoos that they offered every day. Jack poured over all the different designs, ideas running rampant in his head—until blue eyes lit on one design in particular, a black dragon, curled around itself with a bit of red tail peeking through. The design was almost tribal in nature, but just skirted it, not quite there. It looked like a brand or a symbol.

“Find something you like?” Hiccup’s chin came down on his shoulder and the punk’s eyes flitted over the wall. Jack lifted up one hand to tap against the dragon design he was looking at. “Yeah, that one’s cool. I’ve thought about getting it myself, once or twice.”

“I—I think I want it.” Jack told him seriously, but then glanced toward the counter where the receptionist was watching them curiously and a large CASH ONLY sign was sitting. “But I didn’t bring any cash with me.”

A smirk tugged at Hiccup’s lips, and he slid his arms around Jack’s waist, giving him a little squeeze. “I’ll pay for it. First one’s on me. But only if you’re absolutely fuckin’ sure. You can’t take a tattoo back.”

Jack made a surprised noise and turned his head to look at Hiccup as much as he could. “You don’t have to do that, Hiccup, it’s probably expensive…”

“A little,” Hiccup agreed, “but I’m doing okay for money. Don’t bitch, Jack, just let me do this for you.”

He almost protested more, but in the end, there would be no point. Hiccup had made his mind up and there was no changing it after that happened. Jack still shifted, slightly uncomfortably, as he turned his eyes back to the design he had been looking at before. Finally, he leaned back into Hiccup’s chest and asked, “promise this won’t be, like, agony?”

“It’s not nearly as bad as people make it out to be.” The punk assured him, “but it also depends on your pain tolerance. You’ll just be getting a little one, right? So, you’ll probably be okay.” And then; “don’t get me wrong, it’ll hurt, but it won’t feel like you’re being fucking… flayed alive, or some shit.”

Jack was quiet for another moment before finally turning his head and kissing Hiccup’s cheek. “Okay. Let’s do this before I come to my senses.”

Hiccup grinned. “Do you have any idea how Goddamned hot you’re gonna look with a tattoo?”

“Pfft.” Jack turned around in his arms and shoved him away gently.

Hiccup fell back a step, still grinning, then turned around and headed over to the receptionist, who left her seat and disappeared into the back, returning a few minutes later with a hulking man who was just covered in tattoos. There was some back-and-forth between him and Hiccup and then he smiled widely in Jack’s direction and asked, “virgin, huh?”

Jack flushed red because he wasn’t—except, he supposed, with this he absolutely was. “Uh.” He managed, “yeah. Be nice?”

“I’m always nice.” He informed Jack, “my name is Maui, and I’ll be your tattoo artist today. Come on over.”

“Maui’s done most of my ink,” Hiccup told his boyfriend as Jack made his way over and somewhat embarrassedly showed Maui the spot on the right side of his lower abdomen where he wanted the tattoo to go, lifting up his shirt and vest and tugging down the front of his pants just slightly. Hiccup hesitated at that, green eyes pausing on the exposed skin, before swallowing and adding, “getting it there’ll be a little more sensitive, like I said.”

Jack just nodded. He understood. But that was where he wanted it, so that was where he was going to get it, regardless of the added pain. Or at least that was what he was thinking now—he figured he might be cursing himself in a few minutes, if it hurt more than he was anticipating.

“And you just want number twenty-six on the board?” Maui asked, picking up a book and flipping through the pages, then showing the image to Jack. “This one?”

Jack nodded again. “Yes, that one.” He pulled his shirt down again, satisfied that—

“Right, shirt off, time to give Moana a show!”

—or not. The nerd flushed red and glanced over at the receptionist, who grinned at him and wiggled her fingers in his direction. Then she just informed Maui; “you wanna talk about a show, Maui, you were literally tattooing some guy’s dick in here not two hours ago. That was a show. Leave this poor kid alone.”

Jack was still balking, so Hiccup eased up to him and leaned in for a kiss, then gently grasped the edge of his sweater vest and rucked it up, tugging it over Jack’s head and then giving him another kiss. The sweater vest was followed by his t-shirt, which Jack hesitated over before allowing his boyfriend to pull that off, too. Then he just shifted awkwardly as Hiccu’s hands got to work unbuttoning his pants and tugging them open and down the slightest bit.

“There. Much better.” Hiccup grinned and ducked in for another kiss, then pressed one back by Jack’s jaw gently. “You can put your clothes back on when the tattoo is done.”

“If you say so.” Then, a little disparaging and knowing Hiccup would disapprove; “not much of a show, though.”

The punk frowned at that and gave Jack a reproving nip. “Hey, you shut that shit down, Frostbite, you’re hot as fuck.” Then he tugged Jack a little closer and leaned for another proper kiss. “I’ll be glad to show you just how hot you are later, too.”

That was about when Maui cleared his throat. Over by the reception desk, Moana was still grinning. Maui shot her a look and she demanded, “what? They’re cute!”

“Do people really get their… dicks… tattooed?” Jack wondered out loud.

“Yes.” Hiccup and Maui both said simultaneously. Maui added, “all the fucking time.”

Jack winced at just the thought and took a bit of a breath. Hiccup leaned in to kiss his forehead with a grin. “Just don’t think about it, Jack. Yours isn’t gonna be anything like that.”

“Right.” Maui agreed and sat down on a nearby stool that was decked out with wheels, rolling himself over to the tattoo bench: a sort of doctor’s or dentist’s table of sorts, or at least that’s what it looked like to Jack. Maui patted the bench. “Jack, right? Hop on up. Moana, bring the paperwork.”

Moana chirped an agreement and dug out the clipboard with the papers for Jack to sign, bringing it over with a pen and explaining them to him—quickly but without leaving out any detail. This was important, for legal reasons. So, they didn’t get sued when someone regretted their life choices later on.

Jack listened closely and it all made sense, so he quickly signed his name at the bottom of the contract, then climbed up on the table and, when Maui made a motion for him to lay down, hesitated just briefly before doing just that. Hiccup came over and tugged his pants down a little more, making sure there was plenty of space for Maui to work, and making Jack squawk out a protesting noise, flushing red again. Maui just dug out the alcohol swabs and set to sterilizing the area of skin in question.

…it turned out the actual tattooing part of the getting a tattoo wasn’t really all that bad. Jack just grit his teeth through the pain and, at one particularly sensitive spot, flung his arm up over his eyes and bit out a curse, making Hiccup laugh.

It took just over an hour, but only because there was so much black to fill in, and then Maui was setting aside the tattoo gun and wiping down Jack’s new tattoo, then applying a pressure dressing to it. “Looks good, man! Keep the bandage on for forty-eight hours and try not to get it wet for two weeks. Buy some Tattoo Goo from Moana on your way out to apply to it once a day after you’ve removed the bandage, since I assume you don’t already have any. Make sense?”

Jack nodded and levered himself up on his elbows to look down at his abdomen—and then smiled, just small, pleased. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Looks great, Jack.” Hiccup commented, and licked his lips, adjusting his lip piercing absently. Jack was climbing off the table and beginning to fix his clothes—but Hiccup immediately began stripping out of his shirt. “My turn, now!”

“Again, Hiccup? You don’t have enough ink already?” Moana sounded amused.

“I’ve still got lots of skin.” Hiccup replied, and started a little powwow with Maui, whispering between them while Jack pulled his shirt on, followed by his sweater vest. He looked over curiously, but Hiccup seemed determined to keep his secrets.

Finally, the punk was up on the bench being prepped and the next thing Jack knew Maui was working on the side of his upper left bicep, the large man’s form blocking Jack from getting any decent looks at what he was tattooing. He supposed Hiccup wanted it to be a surprise, then. Jack just accepted it and took a seat by the reception area to wait.

Moana was puttering around, filing paperwork, and looked up long enough to smile at Jack, “not so bad, right?”

“No, I guess not.” Jack agreed, “I don’t know if I’ll be getting any more, though.”

“Oooooh, you’d be surprised. Tattoos are addictive.”

“Maybe, but this one was… personal. I don’t really want anymore.”

“Hey, not trying to be a pusher, here.” Moana grinned, “but you know where we are if you ever change your mind.”

Jack gave a smile in return. “Duly noted.”

Just under an hour later, Hiccup was popping up from the tattoo table, grinning down at his shoulder, and finally turned to let Jack see what he’d gotten done: it was a delicate snowflake in blue, intricately designed, obviously freehand, and not at all in keeping with the themes of his other tattoos. Jack just… paused. Swallowed slightly, then stood and headed over to his boyfriend, leaning up to give him a gentle kiss.

“I take it you approve?” Hiccup asked with a smirk, even as Maui gently pushed Jack aside to apply the pressure bandage to Hiccup’s new tattoo. “I figured one for one, it was fair.”

“But what if we… break up, or…?”

“I could ask you the same question about the one you just got.”

That was a fair point. Jack touched over the sore spot where his new tattoo was and then just gave a little, almost shy smile. “Thanks, Hiccup.”

With his own tattoo now properly covered, Hiccup took the clipboard that Moana came over to belatedly shove in his face and signed his name to the papers he needed to, then handed it back. Moana returned to the reception desk, humming softly to herself the entire time.

“Check out with Moana.” Maui was already starting to sterilize the equipment, and called after them when they headed over; “CASH ONLY.”

“I know, Maui.” Hiccup replied, already digging out his wallet.

Moana set a little jar of Tattoo Goo on the counter and glanced between Hiccup and Jack before asking, “one bill or two?”

Hiccup fished a wad of bills out of his wallet while Jack shuffled his feet and felt unnecessarily guilty. “I’m paying for us both.”

The transaction was simple enough and Hiccup handed over the designated amount—plus a tip—then swiped the Tattoo Goo off the counter and turned to hand it to Jack, who looked at it for a moment before tucking it into his pocket. Then Hiccup said his goodbyes to Maui and Moana, and they were out the door, Jack waving to them as he left.

Outside, Jack took a moment to just breathe a little, the vague pain from his new tattoo almost comforting in a weird sort of way. He was smiling to himself when they reached Hiccup’s bike, and Hiccup unlocked the lock box to pull out the spare helmet. When he turned to hand it to Jack, he paused—and just smiled.

“No regrets?” He asked.

“Not yet anyway.” Jack replied, then; “you didn’t need to get one for me, though, that’s…”

“Hey.” Hiccup leaned in to press a kiss against Jack’s forehead and offered, “you’re as permanent as it is.”

“Jesus Christ—” Leon groaned, throwing his head back against the couch. “That’s the third time today.”

You sighed, already knowing what—or rather, who—the culprit was. The same culprit who had somehow managed to spill an entire bowl of cereal that morning, scribble all over Leon’s mission reports with a red crayon, and nearly knock over the TV in her latest attempt to climb onto the console table. Your daughter. Your little hurricane of chaos wrapped up in pigtails and the sweetest damn smile that always made Leon fold like a deck of cards.

And right on cue, she came dashing into the living room, giggling, her tiny hands suspiciously covered in what looked like flour. “Mama! Daddy!” she chirped, her eyes sparkling with unfiltered delight. “I made a cake!”

Leon blinked. “You… what?”

Just as he spoke, the kitchen door swung open slightly wider, revealing an unholy mess of flour, eggs, and what you could only assume was an entire bag of sugar coating the countertops.

“Oh my God,” you breathed.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Leon muttered, rubbing a hand down his face in exasperation. “We need a break.”

You gave him a pointed look, already accustomed to his dramatic declarations of fatherhood fatigue. “Leon—”

“No, listen, babe.” He turned to you, dead serious. “Operation: Get Rid of the Kid.”

You snorted, but he wasn’t joking. “We send her to your parents for the weekend, let them get a taste of the little menace they helped create. And then…” His voice dipped lower, eyes darkening just slightly. “You and I go out. Just us.”

Your brows lifted, catching the shift in his tone immediately. “Oh?”

He smirked, already leaning closer, hands lazily tracing over your thigh. “Dinner first. I’ll even pull out the suit you like.”

“Mm, and after dinner?”

He hummed, pretending to think, but his fingers curled against your skin in a way that made heat pool low in your stomach. “I’d take you somewhere special. Have you to myself for once. No interruptions. And then…” His lips brushed against your ear, voice dropping to a slow, sinful murmur. “I’d take my time eating something way better than dinner.”

Your breath hitched.

A flour-covered hand suddenly smacked against Leon’s knee, making him jolt. “Daddy! Pay attention to meee!”

Leon shot you a look of pure suffering while you fought back laughter. Your daughter grinned up at him, completely oblivious to how she had just ruined what was about to be a very, very promising conversation.

“See?” he grumbled. “Grandparents. This weekend. If they can’t then i will beg Chris and Claire to babysit.”

You laughed, ruffling your daughter’s hair before shooting Leon a knowing look. “Fine. But you’d better make that dinner worth it.”

“Oh, I will.”

And something in the way he said it made you think you might not even make it to dinner at all.

—

Dropping your daughter off at your parents’ house was… an experience. She clung to your leg like a koala, her big eyes shining with betrayal.

“You’re leaving me?” she sniffled, her tiny lips wobbling.

Leon crouched to her level, smoothing down her hair. “Hey, you love Nana and Papa, don’t you?”

She pouted. “Yeah.”

“And they have cookies,” he added, smirking when she perked up slightly. “Way more than Mama lets you have.”

“Hey!” You smacked his arm playfully, but it worked. She hesitated, then let go of your leg to sprint toward her grandparents, already babbling about cookies.

Leon stood, exhaling in relief. “Alright, let’s go before she changes her mind.”

—

Back home, you slipped into a sleek white dress while Leon got ready in the bedroom. When he emerged in that navy suit, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve, you let out a low whistle.

“Well, don’t you clean up nice?”

His eyes dragged over you, pupils dilating. “Look who’s talking.” He stepped closer, voice husky. “Are we sure we have to go to dinner?”

You laughed, shoving his chest. “Yes, Leon. I’m hungry.”

“Me too but for something else.” he muttered, but you ignored the implication, grabbing his hand and leading him out the door.

—

Dinner was… perfect. A quiet, candlelit table, good wine, and Leon’s undivided attention. He leaned in as you spoke, fingers tracing idle circles on your wrist, the heat in his gaze only growing throughout the night.

By the time dessert was served, he was barely listening. His hand had moved to your thigh under the table, squeezing just enough to send a message.

“Leon,” you warned.

He just smirked, voice low. “Check, please.”

—

As the valet took the keys to their sleek, black sedan, Leon turned to Y/n, his eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses. "Ready, darling?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. Y/n nodded, her heart fluttering as she took in the magnificence of the luxurious hotel where they would spend the whole night. The building was a masterpiece of modern architecture, all glass and steel, reflecting the vibrant cityscape.

The lobby was a bustling hive of activity, but Leon navigated through the crowd with ease, his hand resting possessively on the small of Y/n's back. You could feel the heat of his touch through the thin fabric of your silk dress, a promise of what was to come. As you approached the reception desk, you admired the grandeur of the atrium, the classical music wafting from the grand piano in the corner, and the unmistakable scent of fresh roses that filled the air.

Leon checked you in, his voice a low rumble as he spoke to the receptionist. You watched as the young woman behind the desk batted her eyelashes at him, her smile a little too wide. You felt a pang of jealousy but suppressed it, knowing that Leon only had eyes for you. As if sensing your thoughts, Leon turned and winked at you, his smirk deepening.

"I've booked the honeymoon suite for us," Leon said as you stepped into the elevator, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. Your eyes widened in surprise. The honeymoon suite held memories of your passionate past, of the first time you both had escaped from the world, losing yourself in each other's embrace. You felt a familiar heat stirring in her belly, her breath hitching slightly.

As the elevator ascended, Leon turned to face you fully, his sunglasses now tucked into the collar of his shirt. His eyes, a piercing blue, bored into yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. He backed you against the wall of the elevator, his hands gripping her hips, his thumbs tracing circles on your skin.

"Do you remember, Y/n?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Do you remember how I made you scream my name in that suite?"

Your breath hitched again, your body responding to his words, his touch. You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "Yes," you whispered. "I remember."

Leon's hands moved from your hips, sliding up your body, his thumbs grazing the sides of her breasts. Your nipples hardened, straining against the lace of your bra. Leon's eyes flicked down, noticing the reaction, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

The elevator pinged, announcing their arrival at their floor. Leon stepped back, adjusting his shirt, a casual gesture that belied the hungry look in his eyes. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself as you stepped out of the elevator.

As they walked down the hall, Leon's hand returned to the small of your back, his fingers splayed possessively. A group of men, clearly on a business trip, passed them, their eyes lingering on you a little too long. Leon's grip tightened, his body tensing slightly. He turned to the men, a cold look in his eyes.

"Gentlemen," he said, his voice a low growl. "I suggest you keep your eyes to yourselves. This one's taken."

The men quickly averted their gazes, murmuring apologies as they hurried past. You looked up at Leon, a mixture of surprise and arousal coursing through you. You loved this side of him, the possessive men who would do anything to protect what was his.

As you entered the honeymoon suite, You gasped at the sheer opulence of it. The room was decorated in shades of gold and cream, a massive four-poster bed taking center stage. The bed was draped in luxurious silk sheets, a chilled bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket of ice nearby.

Leon came up behind you, his arms wrapping around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. "What do you think, darling?" he murmured, his breath hot on your ear.

You leaned back against him, your body molding to his. "It's perfect, Leon," you whispered. "Just like our first time."

Leon's hands began to roam, his fingers deftly unbuttoning the back of your dress. "And just like our first time," he growled, "I'm going to make you scream my name, my love. I'm going to make you beg for more."

Your dress fell open, revealing your lace-clad breasts, her nipples already hard and aching. Leon's hands cupped them, his thumbs circling the sensitive peaks. You moaned, head falling back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed.

Leon's mouth was on your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin, his tongue soothing the sting. His hands left your breasts, sliding down your body, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your lace panties. He pushed them down, his knuckles brushing against your mound.

You stepped out of your panties, kicking them aside. Leon's fingers returned to you, parting your folds, his thumb circling your clit. You gasped,hips bucking against his hand. You could feel his erection, hard and insistent, pressing against your ass.

Leon's fingers plunged into you, his thumb keeping a steady rhythm on your clit. Your body was on fire, your breath coming in short gasps, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. You could feel orgasm building, your body tensing, your inner muscles clenching around his fingers.

"Leon," you gasped, hands gripping his arms, her nails digging into his skin. "Oh god, Leon, I'm going to come."

Leon's teeth bit down on your shoulder, the sudden pain sending you over the edge. You screamed his name, body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you. Leon's fingers slowed, his thumb circling your clit gently as you rode out your orgasm.

As your breathing returned to normal, Leon spun you around, his mouth crashing down on yours. You could taste the blood on his lips, but you didn't care. You wanted him, all of him, the good and the bad, the sweet and the savage. That's the proof of the ring on your finger.

Leon's hands were on your ass, lifting you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, his body covering yours. His cock was hard against you, and you could feel the cool metal of his zipper pressing into your skin.

Your hands fumbled with his belt, your fingers clumsy in your haste. Leon chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. He batted your hands away, undoing his belt and zipper with practiced ease. He pushed his pants and boxer down, his cock springing free, hard and ready.

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of him. As if you haven’t seen him. He was huge, his cock thick and long, the head already glistening with pre-cum. You reached out, your fingers wrapping around him, thumb smearing the bead of moisture over the sensitive tip.

Leon's hips jerked, a growl tearing from his throat. "Fuck, baby," he rasped. "If you keep doing that, I won't last long."

You smiled, a wicked glint in your eyes. "Then don't last," you said, voice a sultry purr. "Come for me, Leon. Come all over me."

Leon's eyes darkened, a feral look crossing his face. He straddled you, his cock in his hand, his strokes fast and hard. You watched, body aching with need, pussy clenching with anticipation. Playing with your titts as you look at him with doe eyes.

With a roar, Leon came, his hot seed spurting onto Your stomach,breasts, neck. You gasped at the feel of it, the hot, sticky mess a testament to his desire for you. Leon's body shuddered, the last of his orgasm wracking through him.

As his breathing returned to normal, Leon looked down at you, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. "Your turn, darling," he growled, his hands sliding up your body, smearing his cum into your skin.

Your body arched into his touch, breath hitching as his fingers found your nipples, pinching and twisting them. Leon's mouth followed, his tongue lapping at the sensitive peaks, his teeth nipping and biting.

Leon's mouth trailed down your body, his tongue licking up the remnants of his cum. He settled between your legs, his shoulders pushing your thighs wide. You looked down at him, your eyes meeting his, a silent challenge passing between you both.

Leon's tongue flicked out, a quick, teasing lick against your clit. Your hips bucked, a gasp escaping from your lips. Leon's hands gripped your hips, holding her still as his tongue began to work in earnest. He licked and sucked, his teeth grazing against sensitive bud, his tongue plunging into your pussy.

Your body was on fire, breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Your hands fisted in the silk sheets, head thrashing from side to side. You could feel the orgasm building, your body tensing,inner muscles clenching.

Leon's tongue moved faster, his sucks became harder, his teeth grazing against you with just the right amount of pressure. You screamed his name as you came, body convulsing, hips bucking against his mouth.

Leon rode out your orgasm, his tongue lapping at your pussy gently, his hands soothing your trembling body. As your breathing returned to normal, Leon moved up your body, his cock once again hard and ready.

He positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes meeting yours. "Are you ready, darling?" he murmured, his voice a low growl.

You nodded,body aching with need. "Yes," you whispered. "Fuck me, Leon. Make me a mama one more time,please."

With a growl, Leon thrust into her, his cock filling her completely. “Fuck,darling. Are you sure?”

With your nod he thrusted fast and hard. You gasped, your body stretching to accommodate him. Leon's hips began to move, his thrusts slow and steady but deep enough so his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside you that made you see stars.

Your hips moved in time with his, your bodies moving in sync, breaths mingling, moans and skin slapping sound filling the air. Leon's thrusts became harder, faster, his body slamming into yours, his cock hitting your G-spot with every thrust. “Yes yes yes! Like that baby!”

You could feel your orgasm building, body tensing, legs trembling around his waist. Leon's body was tense above yours, his breath coming in short gasps, his hips moving erratically. “I’m coming baby. Gonna make you mama again. Fuck!”

With a roar, Leon came, his hot seed spilling into your, his cock pulsing with his release. The feel of him coming inside you sent you over the edge, body convulsing as your own orgasm tore through you. “Oh my god!”

Leon collapsed on top of you, his body slick with sweat, his breath coming in short gasps. Your arms wrapped around him, holding him close, your body sated and content.

As both of your breathing returned to normal, Leon rolled off you, pulling you into his arms. Still inside of you. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"I love you so much, darling," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "You gonna make me a daddy again?”

You snuggled closer to him, a contented sigh escaping your lips. You couldn't wait to see what else he had in store for you. But for now, you were happy to lay here in his arms, your body sated, her heart full,belly full of his seed.

As you both lay there, the sound of your breaths filling the air, the world outside faded away. It was just the two of you, lost in each other, lost in love. When Leon got up to clean you up,you thought to ourself. And you knew, no matter what happened, no matter where they went, as long as they were together, they could face anything.

And as you drifted off to sleep, safe and warm in Leon's arms, you knew that this was just the beginning of their new journey. A journey filled with love, laughter, and a whole lot of passion. And she couldn't wait to see where it would take them.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“İmpossible.”

—

The morning after, you stirred to the feeling of strong arms wrapped around you, Leon’s chest warm against your back. His lips ghosted over your shoulder.

“Morning, beautiful,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.

You hummed, shifting slightly. “Mmm. We should do this more often.”

He chuckled, squeezing your waist. “Agreed.”

Then his phone buzzed. A message from your parents.

Leon read it and groaned. “She woke them up at six a.m. demanding pancakes. We’re definitely getting payback for that one.”

You laughed, rolling over to press a kiss to his jaw. “Until then… how about we enjoy the peace and quiet a little longer?”

He smirked, flipping you onto your back. “Oh, I plan to.”

And by the look in his eyes, round two was definitely happening.

---

Oh ma gawd i missed writing 😔

"I miss you so much, baby."

You've heard this phrase, in various variations, for the 30th time since answering Leon's call.

I miss you, I miss you so much, I wish you were here, I miss your smile, I miss your eyes, I miss your touch...

Even though Leon has been away for nearly a week, he's been incredibly vocal about how miserable he is without you. Some days he thrives on the distance, but today seems to be one of those moments where his emotions boil over.

"I miss you too, Lee, but I'll see you soon," you sighed, your eyes wandering to your vanity. You glanced at the pink post-it note on the mirror, reminding you of the date Leon will return.

He always does this; he writes the date of his return, or the date you'll visit him, in cursive on the mirror, so you think of him every morning when you get ready. “A gentle reminder,” he murmurs, this time kissing the top of your head before sticking the note on the mirror and continuing to pack.

“Not close enough!” he whines like a child, and even though it brings a smile to your lips, you share the sentiment. The downside of having a agent who travels the world.

“I hate waking up alone. I always call you in the morning for cuddles, but it’s just an empty bed.”

“I know, I hate seeing your side of the bed empty too,” you bite your lower lip as you lie down on the bed, your free hand sliding into where he usually lies. His part is cold and incredibly flat without the weight of the mattress.

“I’m going crazy, Y/N. I miss you like crazy. Absolutely crazy.”

“It sounds different than other times,” you murmur suspiciously. A deep sigh is heard on the other end, and you know he’s about to make a confession.

"I... have wet dreams."

Holding your breath, you bit your lower lip. This wasn't what you expected to hear, but it was a pleasant surprise.

A familiar, throbbing sensation gripped your core, and you involuntarily crossed your legs as he continued.

"I feel like a teenager, but lately I've been waking up with hard erection every morning and dreaming about you," he explains in a pained tone, as if he's being tortured.

"So what were those wet dreams about?" You're determined to take this phone call in a more intimate direction, as he's venting his frustration on the phone. You hear him exhale, and your free hand slides down your throat, imagining it's his touch, bringing it to your breasts, which are covered by one of his shirts you're wearing.

"I pleasure you in every way," he replies, and his voice quiets considerably. You know he's already making things difficult, but that's exactly what you wanted.

"Tell me, Leon. I want to hear how you want to fuck me, how you want to lick and finger me, I want to know what you think about when I'm not around."

The hand that's squeezing your breast travels down your body, dipping under the waistband of your cotton panties until your fingertips glide over your wet, aching pussy.

"I think about taking you out of that tight dress, your breasts bouncing in front of my face, and I imagine taking your perfect, hard nipples in my mouth."

"Fuck, I'd love that," you moan, your nipples actually stiffening at his words. You pull the phone away from your ear, put it on speakerphone, and drop it onto the pillow next to your head so you can use both hands. A shaky breath is heard along the line as you gather your shirt and place one breast in your hand and the other between your legs, slightly mocking yourself.

"I think about making you scream,call my name amd at the end of the night i can hold you and just sleep till noon."

“I love you,” you sigh and begin to brush your fingertips over your clit, going slow and steady for now.

Leom groans at your words, and although you wish you could hear it right in his ear, it still sends a shiver through his heated body.

“Are you touching yourself?” he asks eagerly.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“I’m about to explode, baby,” he admits, and a satisfied smile spreads across your face, knowing that just thinking about you is making him so worked up. “Damn, if I were there, my head would already be between your perfect thighs. I wish I could taste you right now.”

You moan at the thought of his mouth between your legs, his tongue working its magic on your helpless pussy. Your fingers are working well, but nothing compares to Leon’s fingers.

"I love the way your juices drip down my chin, baby. It's my favorite treat," he whispers, and judging by the sound of his background he is jerking off too. It's so perfect to imagine him in a luxurious hotel room, between sterile white sheets, holding his phone with one hand and his cock with the other, fucking his hand.

Saliva pools on your lips; if he were here, you'd treat his cock like your favorite lollipop.

His name falls from your lips in a pained plea as you push two fingers into yourself, curl them in, move them in your favorite way, thinking about how different it is from feeling his fingers or his tongue.

"Fuck, Y/N, I wish I could make love to you right now. I want to feel your pulse around me, the sounds and movements of your pussy as i finger you," he whines, planting images and feelings in your head.

"I'd be such a good girl for you, baby. I'd squeeze my pussy until you filled me and then finally let go."

"Fuck," he curses, and you can tell he's close, just like you. "I want to fuck you so much, so hard, so hard you won't be able to walk in the morning."

"Please!" You plead, desperately pleasuring yourself, straining to find your release before you explode.

“Oh my God,” he breathes. “Come for me, Y/N, I want to hear your beautiful moans as you come!”

“I’m so close!” you gasp, your back arching off the mattress, your toes curling as you near the edge.

“Be my good girl and come for me, baby!”

“Leon!” you whine, tears welling in the corners of your eyes as he continues to get closer and closer.

“Come now!” he growls, an animalistic snarl that pushes you over the edge, and you finally fall.

Gasp-panting, your orgasm washes over your body in waves, using you to the fullest as you maintain the pressure on your core, and you almost come again when you hear Leon’s cursed words and moans on the other end of the call. You almost wish you had recorded it, bathed in pure bliss, like he just said, so you could listen to it whenever you wanted.

He was silent for a long time, only your breath carrying over the call, but after the highs you both experienced, there was no need to say anything. Normally, you would be cuddling right now, your bodies melting, soft kisses and gentle touches finishing the passionate encounter. This time, you could only stare at the ceiling.

“If i could, I’d send you a picture of all the cum on my hand and on the sheets right now,” Leon lets out a tired chuckle, and you can’t hold back your laughter.

“It’s a shame it didn’t end up inside me.”

“Don’t make me horny again, Y/N! I can't jerk off one more time,” he warns you, but you laugh cheekily again. “I really missed you.”

“Soon, baby,” you said. “When you get back, we’ll play out all your wet dreams.”

“Oh my God, we have to end this call, my cock can’t take another round, the nudes you sent this morning really wore my off.” he breathed. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too. Call me if you have another dream," you murmur, grabbing your phone from the pillow next to you.

"Of course I will. Sleep tight, my love."

"Goodbye, Leon, sleep tight."

"I love you."

"I love you more."

°•°•°•

Come home leon,kids miss you and i miss you more...💔

The Raccon city police department didn't look like the kind of place dreams started. Fluorescent lights buzzed slightly overhead, yellowing around the edges; someone’s half-eaten sandwich had already claimed space in the communal fridge. But that didn’t matter to Leon. Because you were there.

You were sitting at your desk when he first walked in, half-turned toward the hallway, nursing a cup of coffee and lazily thumbing through a file. You didn’t look up right away, but when you did, your eyes swept over him slowly—curious, assessing. And then you smiled. Not big. Just a twitch at the corner of your mouth, like a secret joke only you were in on.

He felt it like a jab under the ribs.

Leon wasn’t sure if you were aware of the effect you had on people. Maybe you were. You had this easy confidence, the kind that made others want to lean closer without knowing why. You spoke softly, never rushed, never over-explained. You listened. That alone made you stand out.

Leon had always blamed the uniform.

Because every time you walked past him in it, with that confident stride and rolled-up sleeves, something in his brain short-circuited. He forgot how to talk, how to breathe, how not to stare at your hands when you cleaned your gun. Rookie mistake, he guessed—getting a crush on his way-too-attractive male coworker.

At first, it was just looks. Quick glances. Then it became lingering conversations in the locker room, subtle shoulder touches when you passed by, teasing smiles that lingered too long.

There were moments like that. Small, unspoken ones. When your arm would brush his as you passed him in the hallway. When you'd pause behind him at the shooting range, lean in slightly to adjust his grip, breath ghosting warm against his neck. His heart always stuttered. You had to know. Right?

But if you did, you never pushed.

Leon would lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, replaying those quiet touches in his head like puzzle pieces he didn’t know how to fit together. Sometimes he imagined what your hand would feel like against his jaw, what you’d sound like whispering his name in the dark. He told himself it was just a crush. That it would pass.

It didn’t.

It got worse.

Especially on the night you came over.

You had offered to help him look over some case notes—nothing formal, just two coworkers doing their job off the clock. You brought takeout and beer. Wore a black hoodie over your uniform pants like it was nothing, like you hadn’t just casually walked into his apartment looking unfairly good.

Leon tried to focus on the paperwork, he really did. But you were stretched out next to him on the couch, your thigh pressed lightly against his, reading aloud in that smooth, low voice of yours, occasionally pausing to toss him a smirk whenever he got flustered.

“I’m not distracting you, am I?” you asked, clearly knowing the answer.

Leon laughed nervously. “Not at all.”

Lie.

You were watching him now. Your head tilted, gaze heavy—not teasing anymore, just there, like you were waiting for him to catch up to something you’d already decided.

Leon looked down at your hand. It was resting on your thigh, relaxed. Close enough to reach.

“I, uh…” he started, breath hitching.

You didn’t move. “Yeah?”

“I think I have a problem,” he said quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

Your tone stayed even. “Tell me.”

His eyes flicked up to meet yours. “Every time I’m around you, I forget how to be normal. I can't think straight, I—”

You didn’t let him finish.

You leaned in, slow, patient, letting him pull away if he wanted to.

He didn’t.

When your lips touched his, it wasn’t fireworks. It was fire. Controlled. Focused. Deep. His hand instinctively grabbed your hoodie, pulling you closer. Your thumb brushed the side of his face, grounding him, guiding him. He whimpered softly into your mouth, embarrassed by the sound but too far gone to care.

When you pulled back, your forehead rested gently against his.

“I was wondering how long you were gonna make me wait,” you murmured, smiling against his lips.

Leon’s breath was shaky. “Chris is gonna kill me.”

You pulled back slightly, eyes searching his. “Because I’m a guy?”

He shook his head. “Because I like you this much and he told me not fuck your cooworkers cause it gets messy.”

You kissed him again, deeper this time. Less hesitation, more heat.

And neither of you noticed the case files slipping to the floor.

Leon hadn’t expected your hands to be so gentle.

You moved slowly, your touch steady, your mouth tracing quiet promises across his skin. He was lying beneath you now, flushed and open in ways he didn’t think possible, his chest rising and falling like he’d just sprinted up five flights of stairs.

Your fingers slid under his shirt, and when he tensed, you paused.

“Is this okay?” you whispered.

He nodded, too breathless to answer.

You lifted the fabric up carefully, as though undressing him was something sacred. He shivered at the chill of the room, but mostly from the heat of your gaze. You looked at him like you meant it. Like you’d been waiting for this just as long.

“You’re shaking,” you said softly.

Leon let out a nervous laugh. “I—I’ve never done this before. With a guy, I mean.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers along his jaw. “You don’t have to perform. Just feel.”

And god, did he.

Your hands roamed his body like you were mapping him, memorizing each tremble, every sigh. The kisses were slow at first—neck, collarbone, down his chest—until he was arching toward you, mouth parted, whispering your name like a secret.

He wasn’t thinking about RPD, or his reputation, or Chris Redfield.

He was thinking about your lips. Your hands. The weight of your body over his. The quiet “fuck” he whispered when you finally pushed against him and he realized how badly you wanted him too.

It was messy, breathy, warm. And afterwards, when he curled up against you, skin still buzzing, heart finally calm—he didn’t feel nervous anymore.

He felt safe.

--

The next morning Leon wasn’t fully awake yet when someone banged on his apartment door.

He groaned, still tangled in the bedsheets and your limbs. You rolled over, pressing a soft kiss to his bare shoulder, voice husky from sleep.

“You expecting someone?”

“No,” Leon mumbled.

Another knock. Harder this time.

“LEON, OPEN UP. IT’S CHRIS.”

Leon shot upright.

“Shit. Shit. He’s gonna kill me.”

You sat up too, unfazed, stretching lazily. “Want me to hide under the bed or something?”

Leon panicked. “No—but—God, yes—maybe—I don’t know!”

You were laughing now, grabbing your shirt off the floor as Leon scrambled to pull on sweatpants. He opened the door just enough to peek out, hair a mess, face flushed.

Chris looked him up and down. Then glanced past his shoulder.

And froze.

Because there, very visibly behind Leon, was you. Shirtless. Still laying in the bed. Smiling like this was the most natural thing in the world.

“Morning, Redfield,” you said, raising your voice slightly in greeting.

Chris blinked.

Then blinked again.

Then turned to Leon with a face like he was trying very hard not to laugh—or scream.

“So… this is why you’ve been walking around like a lovesick puppy.”

Leon’s ears went bright red. “Chris—listen—I can explain—”

Chris held up a hand. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

Leon winced.

Then Chris added, under his breath: “At least he’s hot.”

Leon choked. "What?!"

Chris smirked and walked off. “I said nothing. Tell your boyfriend I expect him to cover for your ass if you're late for briefing again.”

Leon closed the door slowly.

Turned to you.

And collapsed onto the bed with a groan.

You kissed his temple.

“I think that went well.”

---

Later that day Leon sat with his head resting on your chest, your fingers brushing through his hair while something stupid played on the TV.

“I still can’t believe you kissed me first,” he mumbled.

You grinned, tracing lazy circles on his back. “Yeah, you were taking forever.”

He smiled, eyes fluttering closed.

For once, nothing about the moment felt like too much.

It felt just right.

---

Hihihi i hope you will like it anon! Keep requesting thats the only way you can make me write😭

You slowly wake up to a chill in the air, realizing that Bradley has closed most of the windows once again, as usual.

The room is dark, and the digital clock on your nightstand shows 4:28; you've only been asleep for four hours.

As you turn to the side, you see Bradley curled up in the blankets, lying on his side with his back turned to you. You approach him, pulling the blanket closer for warmth, and snuggle up to your husband, wrapping your arm around his abdomen. You drift back to sleep with you melting in his embrace, emitting a low, soft purr from his curled lips.

He feels so warm and resilient against you that you bury your face into his back, inhaling his scent, placing a few kisses on his shoulder blades before laying your head on the pillow. You hear Bradley's gentle murmurs as he returns to his dreams. When you open your eyes, you lift your head slightly, leaning towards him in hopes of understanding what he's saying, but his words are jumbled.

"Brad?" you whisper, wondering if he's about to wake up.

"Baby..." he murmurs, and then you hear something inconsistent.

"I'm here," you say softly, kissing his shoulder. He usually calls you "baby," so you assume he's talking to you.

"Baby... My baby..." he repeats, and as you smile at the thought of him dreaming about you, everything shatters with a single word.

"Carolina... Carolina, baby… my…girl"

Wait a second, who is Carolina?

It wakes you up faster than an alarm. As you sit up, looking at your still-sleeping husband, talking about someone named Carolina in his dreams, you're left puzzled. You don't know anyone by that name, so she must be someone Bradley knows, and that's concerning.

"Carolina... beautiful..." the words spill from his lips, almost inaudible but piercing your ears like a punch to the chest.

Lately, he's been so confused, but you haven't thought much about it, attributing it to all the work he put into his job and getting promoted. However, now you see it in a different light.

And yes you know his mother’s name is Carol but the problem is Carol and Carolina are not the same.

Or are they? No probably not.

Could Bradley be spending time with another woman? The thought of him cheating on you didn't cross your mind. Everything seemed so perfect; you were planning the moving somewhere else next summer, and he didn't seem regretful of his decision to marry you.

But then who is Carolina? And if she invaded his dreams, how important could she be? More important than you? It made your stomatch flip.

Afterward, you struggled to sleep, tossing and turning in bed for hours.

Bradley stops talking afterward, turning his face up, and while you lie awake next to him, going through every possible theory in your mind, he simply sleeps peacefully, unaware of your racing thoughts. As the sun begins to rise on the horizon, you're already out of bed, perched on a kitchen stool with your laptop, hoping to find a clue Bradley left behind as you delve into the history.

But what if he's really doing this? If he's cheating on you, he wouldn't be foolish enough to get caught like this. Right?

You make tea and reluctantly check his socials that he follows almost everyone he knows. You hate stalking your husband with the thought of him cheating on you but now you want to know if something strange is happening. Unfortunately, or fortunately, nothing suspicious comes up. Most of the accounts are from people who works with, either with people you know,his old friends, or his family members and some of his dads old friends.

No sign of another woman.

That’s good. Right?

Bradley wakes up to an empty bed. It's strange that you're not cuddling him or holding onto him like a koala bear. He blinks his swollen eyes a few times, adjusting to the low light, and straightens the other side of the bed where your body used to rest. Since the room isn't even that cold, he knows you've been up for a while.

Yawning and rubbing his eyes, he throws on a sweatshirt and slowly exits the room, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He notices you immediately, curled up on the edge of the couch, looking out of the window. Your forehead is creased, indicating something is bothering you.

"Hey, honey, the bed was cold without you," he murmurs, walking towards you with slow steps, sitting beside you on the couch near the window.

You look at him, your jaw clenched,on verge of tears and even though you didn't want to start like this, the truth about the morning overwhelms you.

"Who is Carolina?"

Confusion is evident on his face. It's not the kind of thing that someone doesn't know what or who is being talked about. Carolina is a real person, and Bradley knows exactly who she is.

"What's this about now?" he asks, leaning back, putting some distance between you two, his arm dropping over the back of the couch,confusion is clearly visible all over his face.

"Do you know anyone named Carolina?" you push, narrowing your eyes.

"I do... well, I mean... it's not what you think honey really..."

"You talk in your sleep, Bradley."

"What?" his eyes widen.

"You often murmur incoherently, but last night, you kept repeating the name Carolina, and... you even called her baby. You called her baby! You only call me baby. "

The revelation dawns on him as you watch, and he takes a slow breath, exhaling gently. This is going to be more complicated than you anticipated.

"I'm telling you, but promise not to think I've lost my mind, okay?"

"You're scaring me, Bradley," you breathe out. "Tell me. Please."

"Okay, okay," he says, inhaling deeply and then nodding slightly. "Do you remember... the day when we thought you might be pregnant, about like five months ago?"

"Of course, I remember," you nod,biting your lip.

Your period was late, and you had vomited in the morning. Bradley had taken a test, and you both sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, waiting for the results. It came back negative.

You felt relieved, but a part of you wondered how it would have been if you were pregnant. Something in your head told you it wouldn't have been a big deal, but the timing wasn't right because you two were just about to get married and it would have been nice to get married first before having a baby.

"A few days after that... I had a dream."

"A dream?" You furrow your brows, unsure where this is going.

"Yeah. It was about you and me, and... we had a baby. A little girl. It wasn't something crazy; you were breastfeeding her in our bed, and I was watching you, and then I was holding her, rocking her to sleep and she was sleeping in my arms... It felt real, and when I woke up... I felt like something was missing."

You listen to him carefully, your lower lip tense, and your heart pounding in your chest.

"Since then, I've been having similar dreams. At least twice a week. Always the same baby, always with you inside, but we do different things. Sometimes we bathe her,sometimes we play tickling,sometimes we walk in the park, and sometimes she sleeps in a stroller... Once my mom and dad were in it and one time I saw Mav and Penny too, God, it felt so real," he confesses with a shaky breath. "The last few times, we didn't even have her with us. We gave her a name."

"Carolina? Her name is Carolina?" you softly ask, pushing yourself closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Yes. She looks a lot like you, but her eyes are like mine. A perfect mix of both of us, and... I couldn't shake it off. Sometimes I wake up after a dream, and I feel like something has been taken away from us, it feels so real,I miss her even though I don't know her."

"Why didn't you tell me about these dreams, Baby?" you whisper, placing a small kiss on his shoulder.

"It felt super foolish, and I didn't know how it would make you feel. I knew we talked about trying for a baby after the wedding, and I thought bringing it up would upset you," he shrugs, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

As you sit on the couch, silence falls between you two, your head resting on his chest, his arms around you. This wasn't the outcome you expected. None of your theories came close to the truth Bradley just revealed.

"I was thinking about the same thing...for a while." you say.

"About what?"

"About having a baby. If the test had come back positive, how would it have been?"

"And...?" He leans back to look into your eyes.

"I wouldn't have aborted it," you admit honestly, and Bradley takes a slow breath, gently kissing your forehead. "Do you want to... start trying for a baby before we talk about,Bradley?"

"It can wait," he replies, looking as if he's afraid to say something that might upset you. "If we continue what we're doing, it's okay..."

"But I want to know what you want, Bradley. Tell me."

He takes a deep breath, running his tongue over his lips before speaking.

"I think I want it." The way your heart explodes at his words is undeniable. Realizing that he feels exactly the same way now brings tears to your eyes.

"It would probably mean a blow to the squad if we start now and succeed," you laugh, watching his eyes glimmer.

"That would be the best thing that ever happened," he chuckles, confessing, "just the thought of going on adventures while our baby grows under your heart... God, I could just cry just thinking about it."

"So," you grin, slyly teasing him as you hold his chin with one hand. "Carolina?"

"It could be something else if it's a boy."

"I like it," you murmur, nodding. "We can add it to the list. But before we start making lists, we should probably start trying for a baby, don't you think?"

He doesn't need more encouragement. As you both laugh and kiss, you find yourselves in your bedroom in an instant, clothes flying off as you fall onto the bed. Giving him a passionate kiss before he undresses you, you can't help but whisper, "I love you."

Ekkkk full of cuteness🥹🥹

It was so quiet.

And it was so peaceful.

After everything that happened that morning.

Screamings,cryings,yellings,and tears of joy.

The room was as silent as the color white.

The soft beeping sounds of machines could be heard every few minutes, but other than that, it was a void.

Compared to a few hours ago, it was peaceful now. The sounds of a crying newborn and a suffering mother were gone. Both of them were in a deep sleep, immersed in the world of dreams.

The only things visible when tiredness took over was happiness

However, sleep would have to wait since someone gently started poking your shoulder. You could tell it was Bob from the softness of the hands. His hands felt bare, except for one, due to the rings, and it was a rare and strange sight. Normally, he would even sleep with his rings on, but covering them with placenta and blood was not exactly what he wanted so he took off it and put it on his wallet,right next to your wedding polaroid.

"Baby? Sweetheart? Wake up." There was no softness in his words; he didn't want to alarm you.

As you opened your eyes, you had to squint a few times to sharpen the image. The light was quite dazzling, but it was only because you had just woken up. As always, you first focused on Bob and couldn't help but smile at his sleepy face. You knew that the smile was filled with pride and love.

"Where is he?" Even though Bob was the first thing you saw, this was the first thing on your mind.

Newest member to your little family.

All you could think of was the little bundle of love. Your greatest achievement and your greatest love. Your little birdie - as Bob called him.

Harrison Grant Floyd was born at 2:07 in the morning, weighing 3.48 kilograms. Although the pain from severe blood loss was almost as excruciating as coming out of an armed conflict, if you had to hold Harrison in your arms, you would do it all over again.

Your little birdie was born prematurely,around 4 weeks earlier, so he was smaller than most babies. He was, as both you and Bob accepted, the most delicate and delightful creature you had ever laid eyes on.

He was your creation, the most perfect thing created by both of you.

The moment he was brought to your arms, he immediately calmed down as if by magic and softened his body in your embrace. Bob watched both of you in awe, shedding tears at how strong you both were.

He was in love with both of you.

He never thought he would fall in love with you again but at that moment,he did.

And he didn't thought he would fall in love with someone else rather than you but at that moment,he did.

He was indeed a father.

The little birdie was here, and he was completely in love with him.

He was made for him.

He would give him everything he wanted.

Whenever he needed him, he would be there.

For any broken heart he suffered, he would be there to fix it.

He would always be by his side.

He would always support him.

He was in love with him…

"Sleeping over there." Bob pointed to the warm and cozy incubator that kept the newborn birdie asleep.

"Are you okay?" Wondering why he woke you up, you took his hand in yours.

With a protective stance, he stood over you, and as his forehead began to stick to your forehead, he parted your hair. His other hand was in yours, and you had never felt so safe.

When you caught the tears streaming down your cheeks, you saw the bouquet of happiness fly away as soon as you saw him running away. But he couldn't run away.

He was bound to both of you forever, and it was more than gratitude.

He couldn't leave you and your birdie; he didn't have the strength to do that because he had fallen in love with both of you again.

"Yes, my love. The doctors said we could take him home after tomorrow if we want to, but they recommend keeping him here a little longer. It's up to us." Bob looked at you with love. You couldn't help but gaze into those blue eyes that melted your heart years ago.

"I don't want to risk anything. If it's okay for you, can we keep him here a little longer?" You asked gently.

"Of course, honey. No problem. I just want what's best for him and you, okay?" He bent down to kiss your forehead and answered with a soft murmur before returning to his seat besides your bed.

...

Your dad was a complete mess.

A few hours after you woke up, your parents and Bob's parents came to the hospital to see your newborn birdie, and your mother had taken you into a relentless frenzy—she managed to do so when Bob's mother came and succeeded in getting her away from you.

Your dad had gone straight to the sleeping Harrison and stood at the head of the incubator.

He would sacrifice his life for him.

Probably everyone would.

It didn't take long for him to realize that he had the world in his hands. Harrison cried so loudly that you could swear Bob’s heart split in two—he hated that. Still, Bob came to save him and picked him up from the crib, calming him down with his lullabies.

"That's enough, my birdie. I'm here." He whispered softly, feeling his fatherly instincts kick in.

Then, Harrison was in your dad's arms, gazing at him with innocent eyes, his cries turning into quiet whimpers.

And at that moment, your father was a goner.

"Hey,man. What do you think about being a grandfather?" Bob's father, Bill, patted your father's back, trying to bring him back to reality.

"Wow. We have a birdie in the family now." Your mother commented with tears in her eyes.

"I can't believe I'm a grandmother." Bill’s wife, Tamara, was smiling from ear to ear.

Bob’s mother, Tamara, approached you and Bob with a big happy smile.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" Sarah said, looking at Harrison in Bob's arms.

"He's perfect, just like her mother." Bob replied, exchanging a loving glance with you.

"Don't flatter me Ms.Floyd" you laughed.

....

The next few days were like a dream.

You, Bob, and Harrison spent few days in the hospital room, surrounded by the love and joy of your families. The room was filled with laughter, stories, and the occasional baby talk.

Even the whole squad came for a visit.

Bob’s parents and your parents took turns visiting, bringing gifts and expressing their excitement about the new addition to the family. They all took turns holding Harrsion, marveling at his tiny features and cooing at his cuteness.

As the days passed, Harrison’s health improved, and the doctors were pleased with his progress. The time finally came when they said you could take him home.

Bob swore he couldn't be more happy. You and Harrison being by his side and being happy.

...

Four days later, you could swear that Harrison was almost the size of a watermelon.

Okay, maybe he wasn't that big, but he was growing faster than you'd ever want to admit. He wasn't a chubby baby like both you and Bob were. He was a bundle of sweet little joy.

Last night, you fully realized that your life was about to change indefinitely, and you couldn't be more excited to take your new family home.

Both your families and Bob's had returned to your home to take care of small things for you. For example, your mom had cooked enough lasagna, pies, and curry to last you two weeks, so you and Bob didn't have to worry about cooking dinner yet. His mom had baked plenty of cakes and cleaned the house. Your dad had watered the garden and planted new flowers in pots. They were the greatest support team you could ever ask for.

Bob was currently talking about the adventures he would have with Harrison while dressing him in a blue onesie. First, he would take him home and show him his beautiful blue room and then he was already planning to take him to the base.

He would teach him how to crawl, walk, talk, swim, and run. He even added, "And no breaking hearts" looking at him with a serious face, but Harrison seemed unfazed.

"Bob!" You raised your eyebrows, he was overly protective, but oh, you loved him.

"Don't say that," you laughed to yourself while putting on the hoodie he brought for you. Getting out of that ugly hospital gown and back into your own clothes felt good. Your pregnant leggings fit you perfectly and made you feel strong. Bob couldn't keep his hands off you, so you handed him the task of dressing your son to keep him out of trouble. You were busy preparing the baby travel bag to leave.

"Stop waving your arms like that, sweetheart! Your dad is doing his best, but you're not helping, my love." Bob chattered to your son, who was attempting to put his hands in his mouth. You could already tell he would be curious about everything and anything. Whether alone or as a family, he would love life - you were sure of it.

You smiled as you watched their interaction. The perfect family. Your perfect family.

Collecting the bags, you went over to Bob, who attacked you when he saw you.

"For God's sake, drop these damn bags on the floor right now! Oh, woman, stop doing something and just rest." Bob made you put the bags next to the door, and you chose to join him in his stress.

"First, shut up," you said sternly to him, not liking the idea of him thinking you were helpless just because you gave birth. "And second, would you calm down?" You finally chuckled as you finished dressing your son. How adorable they looked, indescribable. So cute and soft. Just too innocent.

You looked at him with so much love as he looked at your son. You hoped the universe could contain all the love for him,as it wasn't big enough, it was infinite.

"Okay, I'm sorry." Bob sighed, slumping his shoulders slightly.

"Hey, talk to me. What's up?" You asked him, going to him and leaning your head against his chest. Often, near his chest, buried in his neck, even within you, was where she found the most comfort, he would say.

"He's just perfect. I don't want to mess things up," he admitted, holding you closer.

"You can't ruin anything. There's no rule for parenting. As long as you love him, keep him safe, and let him be happy, he'll know you're the best dad. You were born for this. Still, I know you are," you reassured him. You told him that your birdie was watching him. You knew Bob was watching him - how could he not? He was everything to him.

"I'm so glad I found you," Bob thanked you by kissing the top of your head. Whatever the situation, he always knew how to handle it.

Muttering in response, you pulled him a little closer. Both of you, unexpectedly, witnessed your baby boy-wrapped sneeze the quietest sneeze.

The first time.

Many firsts.

Even if he had a wet nose and hands now, this sight made your eyes watery. Harrison looked at both of you, confused about what just happened.

"Bless you!" You laughed at him, wiping him nose and hands on your sweater sleeve.

"Did you just sneeze, sweetheart? Did you do that?" Bob asked rhetorically, with a tired expression on his face. You saw him wipe his arm on his face, clearly being as teary as you were. He saw you looking at him and blushed.

"Shut your mouth." He told you what he had said to himself.

Every moment was so beautiful...

Car ride to home was quite but peaceful.

Fresh flowers filled the air.

A few days ago, when you rushed to the hospital, the house didn't look the same as you left it. Now, it was covered in flowers, cards,ballons and gifts. Notes from everyone,your friends,whole squad,some relatives,bob's frienfs collegues and some other people.

Roses bloomed on the bushes in the garden. Tulips in various colors wrapped in brown paper adorned every inch of your kitchen counter. Lavish vases that looked extravagantly expensive stood in your living and dining rooms. Yet, the only flowers in your bedroom were the ones Bob brought for you. He had taken them this morning before you came home, claiming that he was proud of you and proud to call you his.

The whole house smelled like a botanical garden. This morning, in addition to that, there were the scents of freshly baked pastries your mom had made for you before you came home. Croissants and cakes waited proudly on the kitchen side.

Passing through the front door of your house, you hadn't felt this grateful for being home. Everyone had left; it was just you, Bob, and your baby boy heading home together.

Before leaving, they insisted on all of you spending a few days and nights together. It was crucial for all of you to bond comfortably in the comfort of your own home. The next few days would be tough, but you hoped that being together would help you get through it.

Getting out of the car with Bob carrying the bags, you went to the front door and opened it carefully. After entering, he turned to close the door tightly behind him, but before he could go too far down the hallway, you had to cough to get his attention.

"Did we forget something?" You looked at him as if he were a madman.

"What?" Bob stared at you in confusion, furrowing his brows until lines appeared on his forehead.

"Maybe our 4-day-old son is behind our car?" You asked him rhetorically, wondering how he could forget so quickly - dad brain.

"Right. Yes. Our son." Bob muttered to himself as he turned to open the front door and went outside to fetch your precious birdie.

"My baby,my baby!" You burst into laughter at his shoutsas he went. He returned with a beaming smile, holding Harrison who was hiding in his car seat, sleeping as peacefully as a bug in a rug.

"Thanks, Mr. Floyd." You teased, thinking how if you had married Joe from high school instead of Bob, you would never have so many gifts and flowers. Or this much love.

Still, you wouldn't want anyone else but him. He was perfect. He was more than enough. In fact, he was more.

"Yeah, what can I say? I'm a damn good dad now!" He inflated his ego, but a swift hit to his upper arm quickly deflated it.

"I'll do more than hit your arm if you curse in front of our son again," you warned, not wanting your son's first word to be a bad one - even if it meant months of silence from him.

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded sternly, grinning at the turn of events, acknowledging your newfound authority. He left the room before getting into more trouble, announcing that he was heading to Harrison's crib in the living room.

You sighed as you looked around the room. Tonight, you didn't want to deal with it, so you turned around, left the room, and followed Bob's footsteps. He had already knelt beside the crib, tucking your precious little birdie under a blanket carefully knitted by Penny.

Bob's mom had knitted a hat and gloves for him to wear outside in the winter. For now, he would sleep safely under your roof until he was ready for the world to see him.

"I want him to be ours forever," you whispered to bob, kneeling beside him and leaning over, bending your knees towards the floor.

"Me too, love." He pulled you closer, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. The two of you watched him, as quiet as he slept.

He was an angel in its truest form.

He was your blessing.

"I love him so much." You told Bob and in return, you received a sigh of contentment.

He was trying so hard to hold back tears, but seeing your little boy sleeping so peacefully, he couldn't be strong enough to withhold the tears.

Then silence enveloped you again.

There was no need for words between you two; both of you knew what you were thinking:

How lucky you both were.

Having each other was a miracle, but having him was another thing entirely. He was everything. All soft and delicate, but even at a few days old, heartbreakingly beautiful. He was everything you and Bob had ever wanted. All the tears, morning sickness, and pains were worth it for this moment - and all the moments after.

"Do you still think he's breathing?" Bob broke the silence, and as you followed him, he did seem to be not breathing.

Though as still as a statue, you could see his tiny chest rising and falling, up and down. His little hands were by hishead, as if he were trying to cheer himself up, and his face was tilted to the side, looking at both of you. Even though he looked lifeless, you could see her efforts.

"Shut your mouth, you're scaring me!" You laughed at his ridiculous comment. Tears of happiness. Tears of relief and joy.

Family life had just begun, and you were so ready for it…

Thank you for reading💙💙