Can you write this pretty please? Prompt: Robin wants to propose to Regina, but doesn't really know how to ask her so while they're sleeping he slips the ring onto her finger. :) thanks!

It wasn’t quite wake up time when she found herself blinking her eyes open slowly, the sun not quite risen yet though the sky was beginning to lighten ever so. Robin was draped around her, pressed to her back with his leg thrown over the both of hers and his arm slack where it rested over her waist. His lips were against her bare shoulder, deep breaths warm as they washed over her skin. She grinned at the feel of him half hard against her rear.

They’d spent most of last night lost in one another, both a little tipsy from the wine they’d had with their meals and stupidly in love with one another.

It had been Snow who’d suggested that the boys have a weekly sleepover at the apartment - sometimes Emma had them at her house - so that Henry could spend some time with them and Roland could get to know them a little better. He’d taken to calling them ‘Grandma’ and ‘Grandpa’ rather quickly. It was rather sweet really and it gave Robin and Regina the chance to properly enjoy one another.

They were open with their affections, Regina’s fears of losing him far from gone after all that they’d been through - after losing him almost completely - but she’d learned that loving him openly was far better than dodging the gazes of those still not quite convinced of her. Still, with three children - one just about to have their first birthday - and full-time jobs, spending quality time alone together was not always possible. They still found ways to be together physically - backrooms at the diner, her office couch, the Charmings bathroom (that one still had the naughtier part of her laughing) - but it was nice to have at least one day a week in which they could be something other than the Mayor and the Sheriff, in which they could hand up the title of parents and just be Regina and Robin.

Last night had been no exception.

They’d attended the opening of a new bar and restaurant down by the docks, the owner was none other than Robin’s best friend and right-hand man, Little John. He’d always been something of an experimenter when it came to their meals, Robin had explained when he’d first told her of John’s plans, that he’d always enjoyed cooking for the camp but had never had the opportunity to do much more - Storybrooke had finally given him that.

The place was gorgeous, beautifully furnished and looking much like an upscale tavern. It was comfortable and homely her still held an air of fine dining and the food had been absolutely to die for. Their meals had been complimentary, despite protests from both Robin and Regina - they’d helped with the funding of the place, offering John a generous donation that he’d been loathe to accept. Regina had called it an investment and told him to hush up - as well as their wine. All in all it had been a wonderful night.

He’d taken her dancing once they’d left the restaurant, tugged on her hand and led her to the bandstand in the park where he’d asked her to conjure some music for them. She’d had just enough sense to keep him from taking her against the railing with how things had progressed from sweet to sensual in the space of one song.

The memory brought a smile to her face as she stretched languidly beneath the covers, completely bare and uncaring for the time being.

Slowly, so as not to wake her sleeping lover, she rotated onto her stomach, folding her arms on her pillow and resting her chin on her forearms as she let her eyes fall over the very handsome and very naked man beside her.

He was still deep in sleep despite having rolled him onto his back with her shifting and she couldn’t help but allow her eyes to trail slowly over him. He was absolutely gorgeous and the knowledge that he loved her, that he was hers just as much as she was his, had her stomach flipping pleasantly.

It was only as she shifted to curl the fingers of her left hand around her bicep that she caught the sparkle in the forefront of her vision and completely froze. It was a ring, a diamond ring sitting prettily on her ring finger as though it had always been there.

Her lips parted on a soft gasp as she lifted both her head and her hand to see the ring better, heart pounding in her chest because…what did this mean?

They’d talked about marriage a hundred times over, questions from friends and their family alike that they’d answered with warm smiles and ‘We’ll do so when we’re good and ready’.

Were they ready now?

Her stomach flipped at the thought of marriage, her first having been so terrible and confining…but Robin was Leopold, not even close to being. He loved her, he respected her. They were partners and, in all honesty, what would be so different? Sure there would be signed proof of their commitment to one another but already they lived together, raised their children together and loved one another completely - marriage would only strengthen that union.

Next came the thoughts of their wedding, of walking down that aisle on the arm of her son towards Robin. Would be cry? Would she? She was quite sure that she would and dancing together, once they’d exchanged vows and made their way to the wedding reception. They’d press close to one another beneath the stars and dance like no one was watching them. The image her mind conjured brought a soft smile to her face.

“You’re thinking awfully loud, my love,” Robin whispered gruffly, pulling Regina’s attention to him and away from her ring.

Her heart filled with affection the moment she caught sight of the tentative hope in those kind blue eyes, he was absolutely terrified of her answer. “Then you’ll know already that I would love nothing more than to be your wife.”

His breath caught in his throat as he lips parted gently, eyes looking between her own as he asked, “Is that a yes?”

She shook her head on a wet chuckle, pulling herself closer to him until she was practically laying on top of him before she leaned down to press her lips to his. “You silly outlaw,” she whispered against his mouth between kisses, “of course I’ll marry you.”