The living room was bathed in the golden glow of late afternoon sunlight, casting a warm halo around the scene before you. Jason sat slumped on the couch, his massive frame looking almost comically large compared to the tiny bundle cradled in his arms. His usual leather jacket had been discarded in favor of a soft cotton shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the intricate ink that decorated his arms—arms that now held your world with impossible gentleness.

Your baby—his baby—was curled against his chest, their little fingers wrapped around the edge of Jason’s shirt as if they knew, even this young, that he was their safe place.

Jason’s voice was a low murmur, rough but tender, as he spoke nonsense to them. "Yeah, you’re the boss, huh? Gonna run this whole damn house by the time you can talk." He pressed a kiss to the top of their head, his lips lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

You couldn’t help it. You reached for your phone, quietly opening the camera to capture the moment before it slipped away.

The second the shutter clicked, Jason’s head snapped up, his expression shifting from soft to defensive in an instant. "The hell are you doing?"

"Making memories," you said simply, grinning as you zoomed in on his scowl.

Jason groaned, but he didn’t tell you to stop. Instead, he adjusted the baby in his arms, his thumb brushing over their cheek. "You’re lucky you’re cute," he muttered—whether to you or the baby, it wasn’t clear.

You moved closer, unable to resist pressing a kiss to Jason’s temple before turning the camera to selfie mode, capturing the three of you in the frame.

Jason rolled his eyes, but when you looked at the photo, his smile was unmistakable.