#WE ARE GETTING A WEDDING AND KIDS I AM SO SURE OF IT

[inpursuitofnunchi]

LOSING MY WHOLE DAMN MIND RIGHT NOWWWW

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

For the first time since they saved the world, since Steve carried Eddie out of hell, and their bat bites had healed, Eddie was finally hanging out with Steve without impending doom hanging over their heads. Robin was also there as she didn't want to miss Steve cooking, and Eddie didn't blame her.

"Holy fucking shit!" Eddie yelled, slamming down his fork. "Fucking marry me."

Steve blinked at him, blushing, and his mouth fell open. He quickly closed it and smiled.

"Okay!"

"Oh! I'll go get the book!" Robin exclaimed, clapping her hands as she ran off.

"Book?" Eddie asked. "What? What's going on?"

Robin soon came back with a large white binder with a lock on it. She slammed it on the table and pulled out a key from under her shirt, unlocking it.

"This is Steve’s wedding book. As his best man, I hold the key," Robin said.

"Wait, hold on, that wasn't a real - ," Eddie started to say.

"Ooh, some of these were definitely written before me. That's definitely Baby Steve’s handwriting. . . Ooh, I can just imagine little Stevie putting a white sheet over his perfect hair," Robin said. "So, Spring, Fall, Summer, or Winter?"

"I was thinking Fall-ish," Steve said. "Near the end of August, maybe in September. Not too cold, not too hot."

Robin closed her eyes and held a pen in the air. Where did the pen come from?

"August 30th! I feel it! Perfect day!" Robin exclaimed.

"Wait, just a goddamn minute! What are you doing?!" Eddie shrieked.

"Planning your wedding to Steve, duh," Robin said, rolling her eyes. "Now, Steve, are you sure about the groom?"

"Yeah," Steve said, grinning. "He's funny, very cute, and good with kids. Yeah, I'll take him."

"You like men?!" Eddie asked.

"Duh, babe, keep up. He's already told you this," Robin said.

"Fucking when?!" Eddie asked.

"In the hospital," Steve replied.

"When I was on painkillers?!" He asked.

"You still want Dustin to be the flower girl?" Robin asked Eddie.

"Oh, shit, that actually would be hilarious- no, nope, no way! This isn't happening!" Eddie yelled.

"Did you ask Steve to marry you?" Robin asked.

"Well, yes, but - "

"Did he say yes?"

"Again, yes, however - "

"Then you're engaged. Congratulations," Robin said.

"Ooh, we have enough money in the budget for weddings 2, 5, and 8!" Steve explained, looking over her shoulder.

"When I said that Steve should marry me, I wasn't -," Eddie said.

"Can you think of a reason why you shouldn't marry Steve?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't even know if I like men! I like women!" Eddie shrieked, running his hands over his face.

"You said something different in the hospital," Steve said.

"You mean, when I was on painkillers?!" He asked. "You're fucking with me. You guys are fucking with me."

"Babe, you seem stressed out by all this wedding planning," Steve said, taking his hand.

"I am VERY stressed out," Eddie said.

"Just let me and Robin handle it. I have been planning my wedding since I was like five, and trust me, I have never been a fan of big weddings, so it's going to be low-key and tasteful," Steve said, squeezing his hand.

"This is illegal," Eddie said weakly and in disbelief.

"Yeah, like none of us have ever done anything illegal," Steve rolled his eyes. "A marriage is more than just a piece of paper. Besides, I don't want the government at my wedding anyway."

"Fuck, yeah, me neither," Eddie said, shaking his head. "This is crazy!"

"Look, Eddie, I know this is sudden, and I know how scary it is to deal with all of this as well as speed running through a sexuality crisis. It's been a couple of months, but there were days where I sat by your bedside, hoping you would wake up, and when you did, I realized that I wanted to wake up next to you every morning," Steve said softly, rubbing his thumb. "I want to hear every single rant, even the ones where you're being as asshole. I love you, and if you really don't want to do this, then I'll back down."

Eddie looked into Steve’s hazel eyes, swallowing thickly as he imagined being married to him and waking up with him every day. He already knew that Steve could handle how chaotic he could be, how much he loved the kids despite his loud protests, and he remembered all the talks about their asshole fathers who basically abandoned them. Eddie remembered waking up in the hospital and seeing Steve’s relieved red rimmed eyes. He knew without a doubt that Steve was a partner that he could depend on.

"Okay! I've decided that I'm just going to let this happen!" Eddie said, throwing up his hand. "But I can't be domesticated! I refuse!"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Steve grinned.

"Also, during one of the dances, we're playing Metallica!" He yelled.

"Done!"

Steve leaned over the table and kissed Eddie, who didn't waste a second kissing him back. Yeah, he liked it, and he wasn't ever going to kiss anyone else. On some level, he had known that as soon as he had slammed Steve against the wall of that boathouse.

"Oh my God! I'm marrying Steve Harrington!"

TWO DAYS LATER. . .

Eddie was sprawled out on the couch in his brand new living room when Wayne came in, back from his fishing trip. Eddie frowned as he tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

"So, how'd the dinner with Steve go?" Wayne asked.

"Well, the food was so good that I asked Steve to marry me, and he said yes," Eddie said. "It's on August 30th, save the date."

"You're hilarious, son," Wayne said, rolling his eyes. "You should be a comedian."

Suddenly, Steve burst out of the kitchen, looking flustered.

"Okay, I decided to be the bigger person here. I'm going to invite my parents to the wedding," Steve said. "If they don't come, they don't come. Hopper's already agreed to walk me down the aisle. Oh, hey, Wayne. I hope you don't mind, I wanted to cook for my fiancé and my future father in law. How was the fishing trip?"

Wayne stared at him, blinking at Steve and then at Eddie. Wayne sighed, shaking his head.

"Not a goddamn bite. Waste of a trip," Wayne said.

"Damn," Steve said and looked at the kitchen. "I have to check on the food. Sorry. I want to hear more about it!"

"Smells good, son!" Wayne yelled and plopped down on the couch next to Eddie.

"You accepted that pretty quickly," Eddie said.

"You can't do better than Steve. He went to hell and back for you. He never left your side. . .he loves you, and I can't ask for a better partner for my boy. . .speaking of why aren't you in there helping your fella?" Wayne asked.

"He kicked me out," Eddie pouted.

"You almost took my head off with a skillet!" Steve exclaimed.

"I nearly took him out, and he still wants to be with me," Eddie sighed happily and tucked his head into Wayne's shoulder. "By the way, when you walk me down the aisle, you can't let me fall, you know how I am."

"I would never let you fall."

Eddie smiled. Despite everything that happened, that's still happening. . .Eddie was happy, and he was getting married to the most wonderful guy in the entire world. Suddenly, Eddie sat up.

"Oh, no," Eddie said.

"What?"

"We told Dustin and the kids, but I didn't think to tell Ronnie," Eddie gasped.

"You mean, your best friend since you were eight?" Wayne asked.

"Yeah, I am in deep - "

Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and Ronnie Ecker stood there in all her long-legged glory.

"You're getting married to Steve Harrington?!" She asked. "And I had to hear about it from a 12 year old?!"

"He's 14, actually," Eddie said casually. "How was the trip from New York?"

Eddie suddenly remembered the thing Robin had reminded him to do: don't forget to tell your platonic soulmate.

[evilminji]

Okay, as I have mentioned, I'm Ace AF. And you know that plot line in kids cartoons where the alien or foreign Warrior Royalty just sort of *violently kicks down door in full armor* "We Will Marry."? I?? Always said:

"Sure!" (#OhThankFUCK!)

Like what do you mean "No"? The powerful, attractive, monarch that is very into you has travel a great distance JUST to marry you! Now you don't have to date! They seem nice! You can skip the whole "trying to find a life partner" awkwardness.

So, Sudden New Fiancee(tm) how we doing this? Blended customs? Two weddings? One in your peoples traditions, one in mine? Should we invite your family? Tell me more about yourself.

God, this solves just... SO MUCH for me? No having to make small talk. No "do they like me?" Or "am I reading the signs here right?" No failed dates! It's positively ideal! AND they announced why they were qualified, in a VERY impressive show of power and prestige, when they arrived! Good lineage AND accomplished!! Very nice.

Don't get why everyone's so upset.

Sure the "we leave at once" thing that usually follows would have to be discussed, but that's what you DO as spouses. Really guys, it's like you think I'm incapable of common sense here.

And you know who probably agrees with me? Damian Wayne.

Hell is other people, INDEED. You expect him to just... randomly go up to people and try Courting them? What do you MEAN it's "creepy" to compile portfolios on eligible individuals of worthy bloodlines? How ELSE is he supposed to know if they are worth attempting to talk too?!

There are BILLIONS of humans on this gods forsaken rock, Richard! Is he supposed to just GUESS? Gamble and hope for LUCK? This is a MARRIAGE not a "best friends club"!

Then? Danny showes up.

Gotham heard her baby talking. Heard her KING being harassed by clearly plotting Observants and power hungry ghosts MANY times his age. Connected some dots. Formed themselves a new OTP.

Danny says "Fuck It". Worst he can say is No. According to Gotham, he is neither Shy not the meek obedient sort. Is in fact, VERY stabby. So if he's not interested he'll no doubt be BRUTALLY clear about that.

So? Danny gets Fright Knight. Go get him a horse. Someone fetch Cujo some armor. He's been told the guy like weapons and animals.

TIME TO BE IMPRESSIVE.

He goes FULL Regalia. Armor of solid night sky. Cape of frost and stardust. Crown like crack in reality itself, through which the cosmos gleam and shift. He gets a horse from the far frozen. They're wooly and carnivorous. Gets THE most impressive sword he can find to wear.

It's gonna be a gift, since he doesn't need it.

He does the whole "rend the skies open" thing. Fan fair and knights. Every title he's ever been given, no matter how embarrassing he find them in reality. And announces his intentions. Declares that ONLY Damian Wayne, aka. Robin, is WORTHY to Marry Him. And (in the traditional Ghost proposal of "either accept or tell me to fuck off" /w violence) Demands Damian accept his offer of Marriage.

Right there.

IN THE WATCHTOWER.

In front of EVERYBODY. And yes, ESPECIALLY the Bats. Who are making glitching, vaguely threatening DEMONIC NOISES. Because? You... you THREATEN the BABY? Death. Ten thousand years DEATH.

People are :O ing and backing away from the visible heatwave of unadulterated FURY being put off by Batman. Danny is nano-second from every bone his ANCESTORS had being reduced to a fine paste.

Then? Damian consider him... considers the sword being thrust in his direction, still held aloft in a steady and armored hand... contemplates those titles for a second...

And goes: "Acceptable. Very well, but I have demands."

N..... Nani the FUCK? Says local Bat-Dad. No??? You are NOT GETTING MARRIED.

Try to stop him. He very obviously IS, according to Damian, the man brought him a kick ass sword and has a giant green dog. Is the king of an ENTIRE REALITY. Yes, he realizes he probably COULD do better... but frankly? This one's cute. But if it upset you so... extended engagement. There. Happy?

NO! Because the JLA Dark are LOSING THEIR SHIT. Damian is still UNDERAGE. We don't even know how OLD this being is! NO MARRIAGE.

Damian is unimpressed. A whole six months? That he's likely already LIVED thanks to various timeloops, temporal shenanigans, and reality warping bits of fuckery? You're reaching.

Just? Marriage Meet Cute.

@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe

[auroreliis]

Honestly if I was batsis I'd pretend to have a crush on the batboys close friends(excluding Damian because he and Jon are still babies) just to annoy them. Jason bring Roy over? Suddenly I'm very interested in his tattoo's and I want to know all about archery. I catch kon in the kitchen in Tim? Suddenly i'm very into the conversation they're having and am making eye contact a lot with Kon. I feel liked they'd do something like this; Batsis: You know I really like your tattoos. Roy: Oh thanks. Jason: ... You gotta go, like, now. Roy: What-

Brilliant, anon!! What a great idea!! This was very fun to write :)

(don't mind the spelling mistakes please lol. i am tired out of my mind)

For starters, when Bruce first introduced the members of the Justice League to you (it took a lot of convincing), you just couldn’t help but flirt with them.

I mean, just LOOK at Aquaman. The moment you laid your eyes on him, you felt a spark. He hadn’t noticed you staring, but surely he had felt it too. Bruce, however, had noticed you staring. He didn’t seem particularly amused, almost as though he saw you daydreaming about your wedding with Aquaman. Just when you were making your way over to them, Bruce scowled and swiftly led Aquaman away. After that, you never saw him ever again…

Or that one time when Green Lantern came over. Wow. What a man. You didn’t waste a second walking up to him and introducing yourself. The giggles you were suppressing nearly slipped out after you saw Bruce’s eye twitch. Green Lantern entertained your advances, though you knew he wasn’t interested in you. Whenever Bruce started with his, “Hal. We should leave”, you would always interrupt him with more questions directed at Hal.

“So…do you like pasta? I’m actually really good at making it. You should come over, you know? I could treat you!” You all but winked at him.

Hal found it very interesting, don’t get him wrong, he thought you were very funny, but when Bruce is standing right there beside him, he felt…intimidated. So intimidated, in fact, that he can barely reply to your questions.

“Oh…um…” he nervously glanced at Bruce. “Green. You know what, kid? Your father and I have some business to attend to…so…see you next time. Good luck with the um…yeah, never mind.”

Hal sped off, leaving you and Bruce alone. You had been in the mood to laugh until your father turned to you with a serious expression. Suddenly you weren’t in the mood to laugh anymore. To put it simply, it was a clear warning: Don’t do it again, his look communicated.

Now, Constantine, he was fun to hang around with, likely because he isn’t as scared of Batman as the rest is. And also, he’s hot. “You are so cool, honestly. It’s really impressive how often you’ve escaped death”, you leaned against the wall. To be honest, you weren’t even listening to what he was saying, all you needed to hear was his strong English accent and little sprinkles of humor.

After some bribery, you had gotten Tim to tell you that Bruce was most concerned about you meeting Constantine. For some reason, you figured…

“So…I like older men, what about you?”, you batted your eyelashes at him. You didn’t have Bruce in your periphery, as you were focusing on John, but you could imagine him shaking in fury.

“Yeah, I like older men too”, he replied nonchalantly. Dammit, he got you. Well, he was a funny guy.

Bruce seemingly relaxed at that, but that’s not to say that he was satisfied with the interaction taking place. “You’re funny, are you single-”, you could barely finish your sentence before Dick dragged you away to spend time with you. Though, you believe that Bruce asked Dick to get you away just so you couldn’t talk to Constantine like that.

Bruce had way too many attractive friends. Well, almost all his friends were attractive: Wonder Woman, Superman, Flash…hell, even Martian Manhunter. I mean, he can read minds! Just imagine the potential…

“So, I heard you can read minds. Read mine right now”, your grin was…suspicious. Bruce couldn’t read minds like J’onn could, but he could imagine what you were thinking about. No, actually, he didn’t want to imagine it.

“J’onn.”, Bruce, ever so stern, called out and gestured towards the door. The J’onn in question had merely walked off in that direction silently, as though having understood Bruce’s point from one word. Martian Manhunter hadn’t read your mind that day, to your dismay. However, you had managed to make Bruce uncomfortable, so that was considered a win.

Dick himself had very attractive friends. Wally West, quite the flirt, was among them. Though, oddly enough, you had imagined him to be more flirty. It couldn’t be that Dick took a page out of Bruce’s book and told him to watch it, right?

“So, you’re fast, huh?”, you looked Wally up and down. “I happen to be”, Wally glanced at Dick.

“Okaayyyyy, Wally, you should leave”, Dick spoke with a strained smile.

“Yeah. Oh, by the way, what about the-”

“Now.”

Wally looked around awkwardly, “…right.”

And Raven—what a woman. Plus, Cyborg and Starfire filled your thoughts. Though Wally was the first and last friend of Dick’s you ever saw. A pity. He seemed to have learnt his lesson…

Now Roy Harper, Jason’s friend, was quite something. Tattoos? Archery? Hell yeah.

“Wow, so you like engineering books? Well, the manor has a huge variety. You should come by more often”, you smiled innocently.

“Um, actually, he will NOT be coming over ever again”, Jason frowned at your words.

“Why not?”, both you and Roy turned to Jason.

“BECAUSE I said so”, you and Roy made eye contact awkwardly.

“You”, Jason points at Roy, “Get out.”

“What? But you said you needed my he-”

“NOWWWW. Do NOT make me repeat myself.”

Yeah, Roy leaving was more awkward than anything else that had happened so far.

Jason didn’t have that many friends, as far as you knew at least. In other words: You would never see Roy ever again…

Now Tim, being charming himself, had many attractive friends.

For starters: Conner Kent.

You hadn’t had much contact with the Kents, however Conner had come over a few times. And wow. Despite being overly confident (and often obnoxious), he was very, very attractive. However, you have never talked to him. The reason? Tim makes sure he keeps you at arm’s length. In fact, you’re not sure you could ever find a way to interract with Tim’s friends…unless…

“Hey, Tim!”, Jason called out, “Bruce says you need to go to the cave right now.”

“What? But I have guests over…”, Tim eyes Jason suspiciously.

“I mean, if you wanna get in trouble with him, be my guest”, Jay raised his hands defensively.

“I-…fine. Conner, just a second, I will be right back. DO NOT move”, Tim sighs.

After Tim left, you shot Jason a thumbs-up and went to mingle with Superboy.

“Good evening. You must be Conner. I’ve heard a lot about you from Tim”, you say, taking it slow.

“Good evening! Hopefully you only heard good things!”, he grins.

“Oh, plenty of good things. Say, if you really can fly, then why don’t you take me for a ride? I haven’t ever seen the sky from…well, up in the sky”, you copied his grin.

“Ah, well, I would, really, but I’m not sure how Tim would feel, you know? I mean, he’s a bit of a-”, Conner started.

“A bit of a what.”, a new voice shocked the both of you.

Tim. Where the hell did he come from?

“I though I told you to leave if they started talking to you?”, Tim ignored you, only focusing on scolding Conner.

“Well, that would’ve been incredibly rude…”, Conner struggled to defend himself.

“You.”, Tim turns to you.

“Me?”, you said, though you weren’t scared of him anymore.

“Yes, you. What’s the big idea? Why did you pull that just to talk to Conner? I don’t know what you have planned, but forget it immediately. If you don’t leave right now, I’ll tell Bruce to reinstate the therapy sessions. Then you can explain to him why you enjoy sabotaging others so much.”

That was, quite frankly, terrifying. You hadn’t been this scared of Tim in a while.

Well, safe to say you won’t be doing this again…

[miryum]

A Green and Silver Ring (Mattheo Riddle x Reader)

An arranged marriage between you and Mattheo, one that might lead to something beautiful

Word Count: 10.3k

I know I haven't posted in a long time but I have a plan trust the process. Also, this is me coming out and saying that I love Mattheo Riddle and he's amazing

Warnings: Swearing, bad and manipulative parenting from both Mattheo and reader’s parents, a lot of misogyny (a bit from Mattheo but he gets better by a lot and it’s not that bad), arguments, Tom isn’t Mattheo’s brother and Tom is a creep, arranged marriage, one bed trope, enemies to lovers, greek mythology reference, talk of kids, needing kids to carry on family lines, and kids. Mistress is the feminine term for master (so reader isn’t Mattheo’s side piece when I refer to her as mistress), old timey talk a bit, reader is a bookworm

From the desk of Ginevra

My dearest friend,

My parents have informed me of your engagement. I was ecstatic, yet surprised, when I heard the news. I was of the assumption that your parents were allowing you to choose your husband as your family line is secure in your brother and his wife. Yet, once I learned who your husband-to-be is, I was trepidatious. 

My thoughts are with you, my darling friend, and I pray for you to write to me the moment you get my letter. 

I hate to break the news, but you and your fiancé are the talk of high society. Never before have two such families been intertwined. Even I have had to scold my brothers for their gossip. They seem to forget that our families are close friends. 

I do not ask why your parents have made such a decision. I know they are intelligent adults and surely must have a motive, but I admit that I am blind in that regard. Your engagement seems sudden and unwarranted to me. When questioned, my mother sighed and said I would understand when I grew older. My mother continues to baffle me. I have borne two children and a third on the way! If I am not mature now, I better gain some knowledge quickly. 

Always remember that I am by your side. If you ever need anything, my door is always open to you. I am sure Harry will agree. 

I love you, my friend.

Ginny

From the office of Lorenzo

Miss. L/n,

I believe we’ve never been formally introduced. I’m saddened to say that this letter is as formal as we’ll get - at least until your wedding. I am sure you must be taciturn and mercurial as of now. My father has told me much about you and I believe we’ll make excellent friends and confidants in our hectic world. 

You’re to be my new half-sister, aren’t you? My relatives and friends are petulant to meet you. 

Before any rumours (either about myself or your fiancé) hit your ears, I’ll put a rest to them. Bellatrix, your fiancé’s mother, had an affair with my father. They produced me and in return, I have the privilege of being your fiancé’s half-brother. 

Being a bastard child, I’m no stranger to being ostracised and ridiculed. To be blunt, I’m sure that you will be ostracised alongside me and I believe that is one reason we can connect. 

For rumours of my half-brother, I simply say this: do not fear him. He relishes in the consternation he places in other people, yet when he heard he was to marry you, I saw panic in his eyes like no other. It seems the tables have turned. He is hesitant to be wed, but you are not the problem. He simply doesn’t want to have the responsibility of another’s life on his. Your fiancé is used to belittling people - not supporting them as a husband should.

Any questions you have about your fiancé and my half-brother (whom in case I didn’t make clear, are one and the same), refer to me without any qualms. I am eager to meet you and hopefully make your transition into the Riddle family smoother.

I am well aware you have also lived your life in the upper echelons of society. But, as I’m sure you know, there are multiple circles in our complicated community. The L/ns, the Weasleys, and the Potters, for example, have grown their fortunes truthfully and innocently. They have earned the respect of their people and those whom they employ. The Riddles, Blacks, and Berkshires, on the other hand, have climbed the ranks in unconventional means and by skipping a few rungs on the ladder. They thrive and make their living on the terror and duress they cause those under them.

I’m looking forward to making your acquaintance.

Lorenzo Berkshire

P.S. I hope I haven’t scared you off.

From the office of L/n

Daughter,

You’ll be pleased to hear the engagement has gone through. Your mother and I met your fiancé last night. He seems like a nice man. He will be able to provide for you. His family is influential.

We will return home late tomorrow evening. You will depart for Riddle Estate in a week. Begin packing. 

Your father

From the desk of Ginevra

Y/n,

You worry me with your lack of communication. Usually, you can’t wait to gossip with me. We have such fun at dinners and balls, yet with the most important aspect of yourself, you don’t respond. I’m simply worried, my friend. Are you alright? I can envision you curled in your bed, not letting anyone, even your nursemaid, into your room. Please do not let your impending marriage affect your state of health. It will turn out alright. Everyone I know (even me!) had apprehensions about their marriage. And with everyone I know, it turned out alright. 

Misters Sirius and Remus visited Harry and I the day before last. They came to see James and Albus, but I know there was a hidden reason as well. They know of our friendship and came to ask if the rumours are true. As much as my husband adores them, Sirius in particular can be prone to gossip. The pair tittered and tsked when I told them of your fiancé. Sirius wishes to distance himself from his family, and I know he has pre-existing thoughts of the Black family, and by extension, the Riddles.

Sometimes I take a moment to gaze at the family tree upon my drawing room wall. It is full of interconnected lines and squiggles that sometimes, it makes my head hurt! The web of family ties is complicated and if we’re not somehow related already, I know that we will be once your marriage takes place. It seems the Black family spreads its roots into the Weasley family and the Riddle family- the latter of which you’ll soon be synonymous with.

Give yourself some grace. Your fiancé falls far from the tree; I am sure of it.

Please write to me. I need to make sure my closest friend is doing well. 

Best wishes, 

Ginny

P.S. Hermione wishes to inform you that, from what she’s heard, your Mr. Riddle is quite attractive. I have yet to hear any of the rumours  myself, but at least your husband will be pleasing to the eye. Perhaps it will make the marriage more bearable. 

***

Mattheo strode leisurely through Riddle Manor. It was one of the many estates his family owned, and it was soon to be officially his. Just as soon as he married the L/n girl.

The manor was spacious, which Mattheo couldn’t help but detest. How was he and a wife supposed to fill this void of empty rooms and dark halls? He knew servants and cooks would move in, but they wouldn’t occupy the dozens of upper rooms that were vacated. 

For a brief moment, Mattheo couldn’t help but envision a set of children running around the halls. One of the children would run up to him, shouting, “Papa! Papa!” Mattheo would scoop the child up, grinning, and would carry them to their room. The room would be bright and cheerful, and maybe, just maybe, you would be sitting on a settee, cradling a newborn or helping an older child with their school work.

But for now, the room was dark and uninviting and he had yet to meet his future wife. He had seen a portrait of the L/n family and while they were in lavish, colourful clothing, Mr. and Mrs. L/n seemed cold and stoic - just like his parents. The children, an older son and younger daughter (whom he presumed to be you), seemed kinder and by their body language, Mattheo could tell that the two siblings were close. 

Mattheo slowly made his way down the hall. There were three wings of the manor; two were residential and the other was designed for taking guests. The East Wing - in which he and Miss. L/n would stay - was also fit with an office for him. He was expected to take over half of the family business once he got married. The West Wing would remain empty for now, sans for a large library and the furniture in the bedrooms. 

The boy knew that his bride was to arrive later that day. She would stay at Riddle Estate until the end of the week. Just three short days before they were to be wed in name. Mattheo would move into Riddle Manor tonight, giving servants time to wipe the dust off of tables, shine the silverware, and fluff the pillows. 

Mattheo walked the halls of his new home. His mind was devoid of any thoughts. Perhaps it was simply because he was always numb. Even when he heard of his engagement, Mattheo didn’t make a fuss. He didn’t remember thinking anything. Nothing such as ‘Oh, I can’t wait to meet her!’ or even, ‘I can’t believe mother and father are arranging my marriage! She better be obedient.’ 

No, Mattheo had thought nothing of the sort. He had spent his childhood quietly observing his father and mother, noticing the amount of fear they could inflict on people just by silence. You didn’t have to be loud and dramatic to be powerful. You simply couldn’t be afraid to follow up on your promises - however deadly they were. 

The only question Mattheo had asked when Bellatrix informed him of his engagement was, “and what do we gain from the L/n’s?”

Bellatrix had shot him an callous and apathetic look. “Do not ask questions you needn’t the answers to, boy.” 

Mattheo had glowered, but shut his mouth. 

As he neared the foyer, Mattheo couldn’t help but think how marriage was a component in all aspects of his life. When he got married to the L/n girl, he would inherit a portion of his father’s estates, company, and wealth. Mattheo chucked to himself. Maybe he should’ve gotten married sooner.

***

“Pray tell, why weren’t you here when she arrived?” Bellatrix snarled as she gripped Mattheo’s arm. Her nails dug into his suit as she dragged him towards the drawing room.

“I was busy,” Mattheo replied harshly. Love was not a thing that came instinctively to his family. 

“Doing what? Planning your suidide?” Bellatrix scoffed. “I would march to the Underworld and choke Hades to bring you back.” Mattheo glanced down at his mother, hesitantly surprised. But he knew better than to raise his hopes and dreams. “We need this contract with the L/n’s,” Bellatrix continued and Mattheo’s jaw ticked. Of course. She didn’t love him; she never had. Her son was purely business. He should’ve known better.

“Maybe if you would tell me what the L/n’s provide for us,” Mattheo pulled Bellatrix back before she threw open the door to where you were. “Then I would be more complacent.”

Bellatrix sneered. “You think you’re smart, boy. You think you have everything figured out in that pretty little head of yours. But remember: you’re nothing without the Riddle family name backing you up.” She paused and licked her lips. “But if you must know,” Bellatrix sighed, giving into Mattheo. “The L/n’s just came into some very… lucrative land that we could gain from if you marry Miss. Y/n L/n.”

Mattheo’s eyes flickered to the drawing room door. After a moment, he asked, “is that her name? Y/n?” 

Bellatrix stared at him, aghast. “You didn’t bother to learn her name?!” She scoffed. “With a son like you…” 

She pushed open the drawing room doors and Mattheo trudged after her, muttering, “at least I know her name now.”

You had been waiting for seven minutes and thirty nine seconds in the drawing room of Riddle Estate, the trackage of time dependent on the old grandfather clock standing ominously in the corner. Its pendulum swung back and forth continuously as its second hand ticked by. Mrs. Riddle had left seven minutes and thirty nine seconds ago to fetch her son. 

While the room was perfectly clean, not a speck of dust on even the highest chandelier, it was still a cold and morose room, yet oddly epochal. The wood was the darkest mahogany you had ever seen and the lights cast odd shadows on the dark green wallpaper that had inlays of gold.

Your teacup that you were trying to hold steady was filled with a sad excuse for tea. There was a ring of gold around the mouth of the teacup. On the table beside you, a notch that looked as if someone dug a knife into the surface caught your attention. It was the little things like this that you noticed when you had nothing else to do. Your mind was trying to distract you.

The door then swung open and there stood your fiancé, his stare daring you to oppose him.

“Uh,” you stood, your teacup and saucer still in hand. You quickly placed them on the table, right over the knife nick. “Y/n L/n,” you introduced yourself. You bowed your head in an informal curtsy. 

Mattheo’s eyes flickered over your face. “Mattheo Riddle,” he said coldly. His voice was practically velvet. You didn’t mean to look him up and down, but you couldn’t help it. He was to be your husband, after all.

Mattheo’s hair coiled at the end and his eyes were just as dark as his curls. His nose had a scarred cut on it that looked as if it was just beginning to heal. Your fiancés cheekbones were practically sculpted from marble and for a moment, you believed that the gods had simply breathed life into a statue. Did this make you Pygmalion and Mattheo Galatea?

If it weren’t for their lethal eyes and stern posture, perhaps more would be friendly to the Riddles.

Mattheo spoke, “you’re to be my fiancée.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes.” You had the urge to add ‘sir’ at the end, but you bit your tongue. 

Bellatrix hissed something to Mattheo and thrust a small object into his hands. Mattheo rolled his eyes and stalked towards you. “My family ring,” he grumbled. He held out an intricate silver ring with three bands interweaving. A green jewel cut into a thin diamond shape sat steadily in the middle. “It has been in the Riddle family for generations. It’s tradition to pass it down to the wife of the firstborn son. And now that is you…” 

He trailed off and handed the ring to you, it laying flat on his palm. You took it from him, trying to minimise contact with Mattheo. You nodded in thanks and slid it into your ring finger. 

It seemed too concrete to fathom.

Mattheo stared at the ring on your finger. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “My… wife,” he murmured halfheartedly.

***

Three weeks had passed since the wedding and it was as if you had never gotten married in the first place. Yes, it was unsettling to wake up in a bed that wasn’t your own next to a man that you were supposed to call your own. But other than necessary, Mattheo had hardly uttered a word to you.

In the three weeks you had stayed there, you had seen Mattheo a total of twenty eight times, including mornings and nights when you were forced to sleep in the same bed. 

Your mornings, afternoons, and nights were all incredibly boring. You took long meals, pushing your food around. Sometimes you just sat by the window and watched the wind blow bits of grass and dirt past the window. The servants were still extracting the dust between the couch cushions and you tried to stay out of the way, but it only made you feel more isolated.

Mattheo was holed up in his office day in and day out. He had now inherited a large portion of his father’s company and Mattheo was determined to uphold the honour bestowed upon him. He had drafted contracts, sold and bought land, and even hosted a few dinner parties for his associates. 

You detested the dinner parties. Thankfully, Mattheo had yet to invite you to one - hell, he had yet to speak to you about the dinner parties. You had learned of the first dinner party when you had wandered downstairs one late evening because you were thirsty. You had stared at the group of strangers, all dressed in elegance, as they stared back at you in your night clothes. Not saying a word, you had sighed and returned upstairs.

You hadn’t been eager for the marriage, but wouldn't it befit Mattheo to show some affection? Or at least acknowledge your presence?

While you had continuously tried to get your husband to open up to you, his answers had been short and venomous.

It had been a long, monotonous day for you. You had returned to the master bedroom about two hours earlier than you normally would have if you were at home.

With the wealth that you came from, the opulence was sure to be evident, but you had underestimated the Riddle family’s prestige. When Mattheo had first shown you your shared bedroom, you had to allow a flicker of surprise break through your facade. The bedroom was larger than any room in your old home and had a large bed in the middle. The lamps on the bedside table were always dimly lit and the design of the room was the same as the rest of the house - dark and bereft of love and care. 

Your hair had been brushed enough, but you kept brushing simply for something to do while Mattheo finished up in the bathroom. Mattheo walked out of the ensuite with a towel wrapped around his waist. His curls were plastered to his forehead and a bead of water ran down his sternum.

Your eyes flickered to his figure through the mirror, taking in the dips and curves of Mattheo’s muscles as he silently got ready for bed. You tore your gaze away, berating yourself.

You built up your courage and tried to think of a conversation starter. You commented, “my parents wrote to me today.” After no reply from Mattheo, you continued, “they asked me when we would give them grandchildren.” You set your hairbrush down and stared at Mattheo through the mirror, looking for some sort of reaction.

Mattheo hummed noncommittally and put on some sleep pants. He used his towel to begin drying his hair. “It would be behoove us to produce some heirs,” he spoke. His tone was dismissive, as if children were nothing more than an obligation or duty to fulfil.

“Right,” you muttered, knowing that an uninterested reaction was all you were going to get out of him. 

You stood and moved towards the bed. “Goodnight,” you whispered, turning off the bedside lamp and tucking yourself into bed. Mattheo was still putting on his nightclothes and had yet to get into bed.

As you turned off the light and got into bed, Mattheo finished drying himself off and slid into his own pyjamas. He sat down beside you, but didn't bother turning off his own lamp. Instead, he laid against the headboard, reading a book. "Goodnight," he finally mumbled, not even looking at you.

You curled into your blanket. After a moment, you asked quietly, “what book are you reading?”

He looked at you over the top of his book. "None of your business," he replied curtly.

You simply uttered, “okay.” 

Mattheo felt an unwanted and unusual feeling root itself deep in his stomach. He scoffed and said sarcastically, "fine. Go ahead and keep asking questions all night long if it amuses you so." He opened his book again and pretended to read.

A longing and lonely pang resonated in your chest at his harsh words. You didn’t respond and instead turned your face into your pillow. You had known that your marriage was to be loveless, but it still hurt at every unspoken word. Perhaps, if you had been five years younger when you married Mattheo, your spirit would still be alive with the juvenile belief that you could stand up to him.

Mattheo huffed and his gaze turned up to stare at the wall ahead of him. “If you’re so miserable, then why don’t you just leave?” he snapped, not even bothering to hide his bitterness. “I am sure your family would simply love to have you back.” He flipped another page in his book, not even bothering to look at the printed words.

“I never said I was miserable,” you answered quietly, even though Mattheo knew it wasn’t true. Perhaps, though, you believed it to be true. You took a steadying breath, closing your eyes.

Your husband smirked and leaned against the headboard. “What do you call your attitude, then? Why are you so downtrodden and defeated? Surely, you can’t blame me for being frustrated by it.” He knew that he should be taking account of making you feel this way, but he still tried to justify his behaviour. 

“Goodnight,” you reiterated. 

Mattheo sighed dramatically. “Whatever,” he grunted. He closed his book, threw it on the nightstand, and turned off his lamp. The room was encased in darkness except for the dim moonlight coming through the window. He shifted towards the edge of the bed, making sure a noticeable gap was between the two of you. 

He thought back to your conversation. “Why don’t you just leave?” 

It was too late now to apologise.

***

Mattheo let the door swing shut behind him, returning to Riddle Manor after an outing with friends. He glanced around, waiting for a servant to take his coat, but no one answered. An eyebrow cocked, Mattheo slowly walked up the stairs, hearing you instruct the servants on something, every other sentence of yours either containing, ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. Up on the landing, he found you directing a servant who was pulling a rack of your clothing. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “Have you lost your damn mind? Are you trying to send a message or something?” 

“You’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no interest in me, so I’m trying to make this marriage as civilised as possible,” you said diplomatically. “I believe that if I move to the West Wing and leave you in the East Wing, it will benefit our marriage.”

“What exactly do you hope to accomplish with this piteous attempt at attention?” he asked rhetorically. “Do you think it’ll make me want you more?” He stuck his tongue in his cheek, grinning incredulously. “You’re delusional if you think that’s even remotely possible.” He stepped closer to you, towering over you with anger in his eyes. “This is not some game, L/n. This is marriage. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.” 

“I’m aware that we’re married, Riddle,” you retorted. “And don’t refer to me by L/n anymore. I am now a Riddle - just like you. However, I am not going to live in a state of constant sorrow and dejection. Having a wing of the mansion to myself may help.” 

Mattheo’s jaw tightened as he stared at you, irritated by your resistance. “Fine,” he growled. “But don’t expect me to come running after you when you decide you want attention. You’re on your own now.” He turned away from you and walked into his now solo bedroom. “Just remember - this is your choice.” 

You felt your anger inflate. “I thought you would like this!” Your voice rose and you tugged a hand through your hair. It was the first time in your marriage that you had fought back. “I have done everything I can to please you, yet nothing is enough for you!” Your voice turned desperate. “What do you want from me?”

He stopped in his tracks, turning around with surprise and disgust on his face. “Dammit, Y/n! Don’t yell at me like that!” His voice thundered, stepping towards you. “I never asked for any of this! I didn’t ask for a wife or for you to try so hard to please me! All of this is ridiculous.” His hand slashed through the air to make a point. “All I want is some space. Space to figure out what the hell I want. But let’s make one thing clear: I don’t care about you.”

“Am I not giving you space?” Your fists clenched at your sides. “I am moving out of the bedroom and out of your way. Yet, you erupt at me and get angry over nothing! You send me mixed messages and I don’t know what to do.”

Mattheo took a breath, trying to regain control over his emotions. “I am not erupting! Lord, you are so sensitive!” he snapped, running a hand over his face. “Can’t you listen for once? I am not sending you mixed signals. I am trying to figure out my place in this unorthodox situation we’re in.”

After a beat of silence, you asked firmly, “did you talk about me?” After seeing a flicker of confusion on his face, you clarified, “when you were out with your friends, did you talk about me? Did you rant about how annoying I was? Did you complain about marriage?”

His lips parted before taking a breath. “Yes, I talked about you,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I complained about how frustrating I find you and how frustrated I am with my parents for arranging this senseless marriage.”

“What did they say?” you insisted. “Did they sympathise? Did they laugh at me? Did they add fuel to your fire by commenting about how… how ‘needy’ and ‘sensitive’ I am?”

Mattheo made a low sound in his chest and rubbed his temples, frustrated by your persistence. “They agreed with me, yes. A few believed that you are too emotionally attached and sentimental. Others chalked it up to the pains of an average marriage.”

Your anger flared up and you said, “Let me tell you this: I never wanted marriage either. But I at least tried. I tried to be a nice and loving wife and a kind human.” You turned on your heel, marching out of the bedroom and towards the West Wing.

Mattheo watched you go, an unwanted feeling of guilt washing over him. He sighed and walked over to the window. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Why is everything so damn complicated?”

For the next couple of weeks, you stayed true to your word. You avoided Mattheo and his office and stayed in your wing of the mansion. After a week or two, you decided to explore the mansion, stumbling upon a magnificent library. You inhaled in veneration when someone cleared their throat. Mattheo stood behind you, raising an brow. After a silence, you said recalcitrantly, “you never told me that Riddle Manor had a library.”

He smirked at your thinly veiled hatred, amused despite himself. “Well, now you know,” he said dryly. “It’s a perk of living in a Riddle household.” He walked over to a bookshelf and began browsing for a book he required for a contract that was being drafting. He showed no sign of embarrassment or discomfort at your presence. “You may use it whenever you want. But don’t expect me to join a book club or anything juvenile.”

“I would never dream of it,” you said sarcastically. You step further into the library and can’t help but gape at the vastness. You trailed your fingers over the book spines, breathing in the smell of old books. You crouched down to examine a series of poetry titles. “I can read any of these?” you asked hesitantly.

He nodded and leaned against the shelf behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Feel free to read whatever you would like. They’re here for the entire household. Well, the servants don’t have time to read books, so in a Riddle household, the parents and children use the library the most.” Your hand faltered over the titles. “If you find something that catches your eye, go ahead and take it. I won’t stop you.” There was a hint of curiosity in his voice, as if he wished to know what topics and books piqued your interest. You hummed quietly, not fully acknowledging his words. You were already picking up a book and leafing through it. Mattheo watched you for a moment, his eyes softening briefly.

Everyday, you returned to the library. It was an escape from the walls of your room and the walls that Mattheo had put up around his heart.

Eventually, the servants recognised your routine and began to start a fire in the fireplace to keep you warm. They moved a loveseat in front of the fire that you gratefully used. You devoured the poetry collection, including Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe, and started on the classics. Every once in a while, Mattheo would come into the library, but he wouldn’t talk. He simply took a book and returned to his study. Sometimes, you wondered if he remembered you lived in the mansion with him. 

Mattheo found himself frequenting the library more often, looking for books he had never needed before. A swell of pride filled him whenever he saw you by the fire, knowing that something in his home brought you such comfort. He still refused to speak to you, maintaining distance and ignoring your existence, but he found himself increasingly drawn to your presence. 

One day, on a whim, he decided to take a risk and left a stack of his favourite books on the table next to your chair. That afternoon, you found the stack of books. You smiled despite yourself, though you didn't make any comment to Mattheo. You picked up the first book, sat down in the chair, and began to read.

A week later, Mattheo was hosting a dinner party for his associates. He didn’t say a word about it to you, though you heard the servants preparing for it. You decided not to go, opting to stay in your safe haven of the library. 

After an hour or so of faint music, you heard the door to the library squeak open and your head whipped up. You saw one of Mattheo’s friends, Tom, enter and look around. He spotted you and his lips curled up into a smirk. “So you’re the wife we’ve heard so much about?” 

Your stomach clenched and you replied, “I guess so.”

Tom’s smirk grew wider as he took in your terse response, enjoying your obvious discomfort. He approached you with a lecherous gaze in his eyes before asking, “and how do you find life as Mrs. Riddle? Are you enjoying your… arrangement?” His words dripped with sarcasm, not believing for a moment that you and Mattheo were married for love.

You stared at him. “It has its perks,” you said simply.

Tom laughed derisively at your response, not convinced by your nonchalance. “And what are those perks?” he asked, moving closer to you. “Extravagant gifts? Luxurious vacations? Or simply the privilege of being married to such a powerful man?”

You squared your shoulders. “I am powerful without a man,” you said sharply. “I do not need a man to determine my worth and prowess.”

Tom scoffed. “Really? How exactly did you become powerful on your own?” he asked, challenging you. “I find it hard to believe that you could ever achieve anything significant without the backing of a powerful husband behind you.” He leaned in closer, grinning.

You closed your book with a snap. “The L/n family,” you said, talking of your maiden lineage, “has had control over many estates and affairs for decades. Without Mattheo Riddle, I would’ve inherited half of it, second only to my brother. I would’ve had four auspicious companies at my ready disposal, capable of doing most anything. So, yes, sir, I would have been momentous without him.”

Tom’s smirk faded as he recognised your family name. He remained undeterred, however, stating, “that explains why your husband was so eager to marry you. He must see you as a valuable asset to his business empire.”

As you opened your mouth to retort, the door banged open and Mattheo strode into the library.

Mattheo had noticed Tom’s absence from his party, but when it became too long to be excused as a restroom break, Mattheo had asked his brother, Enzo, if he had seen where he had gone. Enzo had smiled a small smile and whispered, “Tom went to the library. Where your darling wife stays hidden.”

Mattheo saw red. 

He barged into the library, a deadly, lethal, and borderline possessive look deep in his eyes. When he saw Tom flanking you, Mattheo’s expression darkened and his hands clenched into a ready fist. “What the hell are you doing here?” Mattheo demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “This is a private wing of my home - not some place for you to bother my wife.” 

Mattheo moved closer to you, placing himself between you and Tom as if to protect you from further harm. 

Tom quickly stepped back and placed a confident demeanour on his face. “I was simply having a conversation with your lovely wife here,” Tom gritted his teeth.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, showing clearly that Tom was lying and intruding. You saw Mattheo’s eyes flicker down to you, his eyes softening reassuringly before snapping back to Tom, malice in his gaze. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Mattheo snapped at Tom. “There’s no need for any sort of interaction or conversation with my wife unless I am present.” Mattheo placed a hand on the top of your chair, his fingers gripping it and his bicep flexing slightly to warn Tom.

Tom’s eyes flicked with something you hadn’t seen before: fear. Fear commonly associated with the Riddle name. He adjusted his collar and straightened his posture. “Of course, Mr. Riddle,” he said bitterly.

You raised a brow. “I think it’s time for you to go now,” you said, your face stoic. Tom bowed his head slightly before exiting the library. You didn’t look up to meet Mattheo’s eye. You murmured, “you didn’t have to do that. I had it covered.”

Mattheo watched Tom until he completely left the room before turning to look down on you. His voice was threatening, “you may have been able to handle Tom, but I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting or harassing you while you’re under my roof. Consider this a warning - if anyone tries to cross you again, they will regret it.” 

“Perhaps you should tell your coworkers that. Not me,” you replied. 

Mattheo’s expression was cold. “Fine. I will,” he growled. “I will not sit idly by and allow anyone to disrespect my wife.” He let go of your chair and adjusted the cuffs of his suit. As if in a business meeting, he said, “And consider this another warning: if you continue to act so stubbornly, I won’t hesitate to remind you of your place in this marriage.”

“My place in this marriage is your wife!” you cried out, finally standing up. “Your equal! Something you seem to forget until it’s convenient for you. Or until another man threatens your… your property! I doubt you see me any differently than this house or your assets.”

Mattheo grabbed onto your arm tightly, pulling you close and leaning down so his face was inches from yours. “Do not ever speak to me like that. You are not my equal - you are my wife and I decide what is best for both of us. If you cannot accept that, then you should reconsider your place in this marriage.” He released your arm and turned away from you, striding towards the door. “I suggest you reflect on your behaviour,” he added icily, leaving the room without looking back.

After he left the library, you let out a scream of frustration. You shoved the pile of books that Mattheo had carefully curated to the floor. They tumbled down, book after book, covers opening and pages bending. Tears pricked at your eyes as you examined the scene. 

You slumped into your chair, the fire in front of your crackling softly, emitting a calming warmth.

Eventually, you fell asleep in the chair, tear stains on your cheeks. In the morning, you woke to the serene morning light filtering into the room - a vast contrast to your mood. The fire had dissolved into crackling embers. Tucked on top of you was a thick blanket and the stack of books that you had pushed over had been re-piled and stood majestically atop the table.

You sighed, knowing you should thank the servants for taking care of you and cleaning up. 

After you walked to the kitchen, your footfalls heavy, you thanked the servants, who were finishing preparing breakfast. They exchanged glances and one piped up, “Ma’am, while we appreciate the sentiment, we didn’t do that. We weren’t aware that you were still in the library. We believed you had retired to bed before the social last night.” They paused and then added, “however, Mr. Riddle didn’t go to bed. He was in his study until morning light.”

“Oh,” was all you could say. You bid them an awkward goodbye before entering the dining hall. 

Mattheo was already seated at the head of the table, his expression exhausted and distant. He didn’t acknowledge you when you approached, focusing instead on the uneaten plate of food in front of him. 

You sat down opposite him and muttered, “the servants informed me that you blanketed me last night and cleaned up the books.” You hesitated and finally said, “thank you.”

Mattheo looked up briefly, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t respond directly. “It was necessary,” he said simply. “You should not be cold and uncomfortable in your own home.” He doesn’t make any effort to engage in conversation beyond that. Something was weighing heavily on his mind and he seemed preoccupied by it.

You hummed in response. Eventually, you stood and whispered to your husband before walking out, “you are not as cold as you want to seem. You needn’t keep the facade up with me.”

Mattheo looked up briefly before returning to his food. His expression relaxed, but he didn’t respond.

***

Later that day, Mattheo sat in his study as he always did. A knock came from the door and he glanced at the clock. It was a bit early for lunch to be delivered, but he announced, “come in.”

The door creaked open and your head peeked into the room. Mattheo’s brows furrowed - not with malice, but with scrutiny. You entered and sat in one of the two seats next to his fireplace. Silently, you cracked open a book you had brought and began to read. 

Mattheo watched you intently, his gaze never wavering as he took in every detail of your face. He tried to find any acrimonious intent behind your actions, but you looked so peaceful. He found himself noticing the details of your face and your beauty as the fire cast warm highlights on your eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked eventually, his voice holding an armour of needed suspicion.

“Reading,” you said simply. 

Mattheo frowned, not convinced by your answer. Why would you read in his study after the way he had been treating you? He leaned back in his chair, his work forgotten. “Isn’t there something more important that you could be occupying your time with?” he challenged.

“Not particularly,” you responded. “You’re in charge of the companies and estates. I have nothing to do. I thought I would accompany you. You must get lonely in a study by yourself.”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, but ultimately nodded slowly. “Alright,” he agreed after a moment. “But don’t think I will stop working simply because my wife is here.” His posture grew taut as he began looking over documents again. “This is still my office and I expect you to behave accordingly.”

“I’m simply reading,” you murmured, a smile inching its way up your lips.

Henceforth, a routine was established. Every morning, you would knock on Mattheo’s study door, usually an hour or so after he began working. There was rarely conversation, the silence being broken by Mattheo’s scratch of a quill or you turning pages, occasionally being disrupted by the loud crack of a log in the fire.

One day, you had finished your book (it was an excellent book, one from the pile Mattheo had recommended) and stood to go retrieve another one. At the sound of your footsteps leaving his office, Mattheo’s head darted up and he suddenly asked, “where are you going?” 

You paused and turned back to him. “I’m to get a new book. Unfortunately, as wonderful as this one was, it had an ending like all books do.”

Mattheo frowned and a hint of vulnerability broke through his exterior. “Get a servant to do it,” he offered. 

“Well, I don’t know which one I want,” you counted, raising a brow in a smirk.

He huffed and shook his head, returning his eyes to his documents. He grumbled, “I will commission the servants to build you a small bookshelf for my office. You can keep your books there.” You stood, watching him for a moment, admiring him until his gaze snapped up. “Well, go get your book,” he said sharply. “… but hurry back,” he added in a mumble. 

You finally smiled at him before exiting and Mattheo gazed at the place you once stood, trying to memorise how your lips curled up and your eyes crinkled when you smiled.

He rather liked it when you smiled.

***

“Are you alright?”

You sniffed and laughed. “Yes, yes. I’m being foolish.” You wiped some tears from your eyes. “My book is very good.”

Mattheo chuckled lowly. “And what made you cry, hm?”

“A daughter and father interaction,” you replied quietly. 

“Was the father cruel to the daughter?” Mattheo laughed tersely, shaking his head at his documents. “Are your feelings not strong enough to withstand their wrath?”

You frowned at Mattheo, setting the book down. “No,” you corrected slowly. “The father was being kind to his daughter. He was supporting her and loving her; as a father should.” There was a pause as Mattheo looked up at you. “I know that the Riddles are a harsher family - I’ve known ever since I knew I was to marry you. But… but are you alright?” 

You felt absurd asking the question. Yet, when Mattheo couldn’t meet your eye, a wistful sadness blanketing the room, you felt as if you should’ve asked the simple question weeks earlier.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then Mattheo turned in his chair so his back was facing you. "I'm fine," he finally answered, his voice rough and strained. "I am used to dealing with it, I suppose." Despite his insistence that he didn't need anyone's pity or concern, your words seem to have affected him more deeply than he wanted to admit. 

“May I ask a question?” you asked softly.

Mattheo hesitated for a moment before nodding, his eyes never leaving the window as he spoke. "Ask away," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He then cleared his throat and said, "but I won’t give a warm and fuzzy answer." 

There was a pregnant pause in the air as you gathered your courage up and suddenly thrust your fears upon your husband. “If we ever have children, which we’re somewhat expected to,” you added hurriedly. “I don’t want them to grow up in a household where they feel as if they have to vie for love or attention. And I don’t want me to be the only one giving them attention.” Mattheo turned his head so his face was angled toward you, but his eyes could still stray to the window if need be. “If we have kids, can you promise that you’ll love them? Even if you don’t love me?” 

Even though your voice was steady, Mattheo knew of the vulnerability deeply rooted within you.

He nodded cautiously, his expression serious. "I promise," he said firmly. "I may not love you, but I will love our children unconditionally. They will never have to compete for my affection or feel neglected. I may not be a fond father, but I will provide for them and protect them as best I can." A protectiveness filled his veins just at the thought of something happening to his future children. 

You nodded once, a sad smile on your face. “Perhaps we’ll have a big family. Enough children to start a sports team.” You smiled at the thought, laughing lightly.

Mattheo smiled, despite himself, imagining a large brood of children running around the manor. It was an oddly appealing idea, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. "We'll see," he said noncommittally. "I'd rather have lots of sons; they'll carry on the family name and ensure my legacy continues." He turned back around and attempted to focus on his work.

“And daughters too.” You frowned, staring at your husband, even if he wouldn’t spare you a glance. “Daughters can carry on the family name just as well as sons.” A muscle in your jaw ticked.

Mattheo scowled at your defiance, his eyes narrowing slightly. Why hadn’t you just fallen into line? "Fine, daughters too," he reluctantly agrees. "But make no mistake, they will be raised to be strong and capable like their brothers. The Riddle name demands nothing less." 

“And the sons can be soft and caring and sensitive,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have to vie for affection. I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have needless competition in their life. I don’t want them to grow up… like, well… you.” You finally uttered the words that had been hanging off your tongue dangerously. 

Mattheo’s expression hardened as he clenched his fist tightly. "Fine!" he snapped. "They can be whatever the hell you want them to be! But don't expect me to sit back and watch while they become weaklings and failures. We need to teach them to be strong and ruthless like I am." He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process.

You jump up after him, crossing towards him. You whirled to a stop in front of him, jabbing a finger towards his chest. “Listen here, Riddle. Just because someone is kind and vulnerable doesn’t mean they’re weak!” You growled, “and just because you grew up like that, does not mean that’s the type of household I am going to have.”

Mattheo stepped forward and his hand flew up to grip your wrist. His eyes blazed with anger, but then something changed in his expression and he took a step back, looking surprised at his own reaction. "You're right," he admitted begrudgingly. "I shouldn't have assumed that being vulnerable meant being weak." He ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed, yet resolute in his decision. "But don't expect me to be a pushover either. I'll still teach them to be strong and independent."

“Strong and independent are good qualities,” you conceded. “Both for the boys and girls.”

"Agreed," he said. Mattheo straightened his cuffs and cleared his throat. "Our children will be taught to be strong and independent, regardless of gender. They will know that they are loved and valued by both of us, equally." He held out his hand to you, indicating that the argument was over - for now at least. "Deal?" 

“Deal.” You shook his hand defiantly. It was a business deal, but a good deal at least.

Mattheo exhaled and brushed past you. “I’m to a meeting,” he informed you. It was a simple comment , one that was an offhand remark, but to you, Mattheo had just let you into his life. It was something he had never done before. Even if it was just a response to where he was off to, it was a window into his life. A life that now may have enough room to hold you. 

Mattheo paused when he reached the door. “I never knew the way I grew up was wrong until I saw other families. I saw the parents bending down to listen to their children instead of hushing them. I saw parents comforting their children after scraped knees, not pushing them to the kitchen for some rubbing alcohol. I saw parents beaming when their child could plunk out the simplest of tunes on the piano. No one else got berated for being out of rhythm or playing a D instead of an E. I never saw another child get slapped by their parents or scolded as harshly as I was. It was around then I realised that something was wrong. But what was I to do about it?”

Words dried in your throat. You wanted to cry at his words, but you felt dried out. How could someone treat their child like that? It explained so much… 

Your husband was a fragile man, you were just realising. And he was trying to pick up the pieces and present them to you in the only way he knew how. 

"The stars remind me of you,” he said quietly, the change in conversation sudden. “I mean that in the best possible way.” His voice was the softest and most tender as you had ever heard it. You hoped he would keep speaking the melodies that made your heart sing in tune. 

“How so?” you asked, afraid to break the plane of existence that you and Mattheo were carefully standing on.

"They are so beautiful, yet so far away. I may see them, but I can never touch them."

***

The servants didn’t know what to do. The master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, seemed to be at a ceasefire. The cooks lamented at how they had seemed to be doing so well. The maids thought they were destined to doom from the start. The butlers gossiped about Mr. Riddle’s letters to a Mr. Tom, terminating their long-term partnership. The scullery maid still had hope that the husband and wife would come to their senses and live a happy life.

It perplexed the servants when the mistress requested to move her belongings back into the master bedroom and the master looked on, a soft smile on his lips. It confused the servants when the Mr and Mrs began taking meals together and talking in hushed tones late into the night. And it bamboozled the servants when, one summer afternoon, the Lord of the household stood from his desk, cautiously moved to his Lady that was reading by the open window, and asked her to accompany him on a walk. She had accepted. 

There was to be a dinner party, this time hosted at Mr. Draco Malfoy’s manor, that Mr. Riddle was expected to attend. Per usual, the master didn’t invite the mistress, but she was content to stay home. A maid briefly heard the madam whisper to her husband, “hurry home, please? I don’t like it when you’re away.” The maid had scurried away before she could hear the reply.

Mattheo returned home that night, just before the sun was setting. He climbed the steps, unbuttoning his cuffs and loosening his tie. The soft glow of light was still shining under your shared bedroom - something he still hadn’t gotten used to - and Mattheo couldn’t help but smile.

“Why are you still up?” he asked quietly when he entered the room.

“You promised to be home early and I wanted to see you before I go to bed,” you reminded him, a small book in your hands.

“Right, right.” Mattheo chuckled and shook his head, slinging off his tie and jacket.

“How was the dinner?”

Mattheo hummed noncommittally. “Not the worst. A couple of my good friends, Theo and Pansy, were there to help alleviate the pain of socialising. But… I found something odd happening.”

“And what was that, husband?” Mattheo took a moment to relish in the way that word curled off your tongue effortlessly.

“I found myself wishing you were there. Nay,” he quickly corrected himself. “I wished I was here with you.”

“Oh?” Your eyes flickered up towards Mattheo, a slight blush coming to your cheeks. “Why… what do you mean by that?”

Mattheo began to unbutton his shirt and moved towards his closet. “Well,” he admitted, mumbling to himself. “I simply mean that instead of having to socialise with people who are too tightly wound and whose only intent is to take my money,” he chucked his belt into his closet and rolled up his sleeves, “I would rather be at home with my darling wife.”

A smile inched up your lips. “Really? Tell me more about this darling wife of yours.”

Mattheo hummed, stepping towards the bed. He crawled down on the bed, leaning on his forearms to lean up towards you. “My wife… I’ve come to care deeply about her. She is a beautiful, elegant woman, one who has a fiery tongue about her and an intelligent brain that even I cannot rival. She always seems to get her way, even when I try to fight back. It’s as if my wife has a command over me that I have willingly submitted to. And I am not ashamed to say so.” He lightly caressed your arm, sending a trail of goosebumps up your skin. 

“You must be careful, Mattheo,” you uttered. “That sounds an awful lot like love.” 

Mattheo brought his eyes up to meet yours, the sting of tears building up behind them. His voice cracked as he said, “that’s the first time you’ve called me by my name, Y/n.”

Your lips parted in shock. “I- I didn’t realise. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t you dare apologise,” Mattheo demanded before reaching up to pull you into a kiss. 

His lips were soft and meaningful against yours, hungrily trying to gather every ounce of love from you. His kisses were feverish at first, his strong hand coming up to cup your jawline, his fingers just teasing behind your ear, before his lips slowed. Mattheo was a starved man and he wouldn’t let anyone take away his only solace. He shifted so he could be closer to you, gently taking the book from your hands as you surrendered yourself to him. Your hands found his silk shirt, gripping it in your fists. He placed the book on the nightstand and moved so he was hovering over you, never once letting a second go by without feeling your skin against his. 

Mattheo slowly, achingly pulled away from you and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. “My darling, my love, my life,” he murmured, dragging a knuckle down your cheek. “I apologise for everything I have ever done or said that made you feel inferior. I would be happy to kneel for you in front of my associates and family members - just to show them how much power you have over me.” He took a breath before persisting, “I was foolish. I was incompetent. I didn’t realise how much love I held for you. It is, and always will be, only you. I will promise you this: you will be the only woman I ever touch, the only voice I ever want to hear, the only skin I will ever caress, and the only eyes I ever want to see. I will wake and fall, every morning and night, thinking of you. You are the other half of my heart, for it is you who I love. I will place the galaxies and stars in the night sky for you. If you are ever unhappy, my love, I will not rest until I see you smile again. If you are ever mad, my love, I shall smite whatever upsets you, even if it is I. And I would die a happy man if you could give me only an ounce of what I give you.”

Your breath shook and you swore Mattheo had injected ambrosia into your veins for you were sure your blood was singing with the love that was filling your soul. “I wrote a letter to your mother today,” you offered quietly, as if your mere words could ever compare to the love poem Mattheo had just gifted to you. “And I thanked her.” Mattheo’s eyes flashed with confusion. You continued, “I thanked her for birthing such a wonderful husband and for raising him. I know you u wish to renounce your family, but as of now, I want to thank them with all my heart. Mattheo, I love you.”

“And I you,” Mattheo whispered, bringing his forehead down to rest on yours. His nose bumped against your cheek and he couldn’t contain his grin anymore. “How did I ever get so lucky?” he mumbled.

You laughed lightly. “Luck? Fate?”

Mattheo shook his head and his nose brushed light curves over your skin. “No, my wife. Simply love. Pure, unconditional love.”

***

The house was bright, the curtains pulled as far open as they could be. Some servants scuttled around, holding laundry or preparing for dinner. Meanwhile, Mattheo strode leisurely through the halls, smiling lovingly as his nephews chased each other through the halls. “What do I say, boys?” he called after them.

“Have fun, be safe, and don’t get caught!” they yelled back before running around a corner.

Enzo jogged after them and grumbled to Mattheo, “it’s not your duty to rule them up.”

“As their favourite uncle, yes, it is.”

“Your wife is in Andromeda’s room,” Enzo told his brother before sprinting off after his sons. Enzo wasn’t usually at Riddle Manor, but today was a special day. It was Orion’s birthday.

Mattheo chuckled to himself before Orion raced up the steps, panting. “Papa! Papa!” 

Mattheo grinned widely and scooped Orion up. “Are you alright, hm? What’ve you been up to?”

“Aunt Pansy’s carriage just pulled up!” Orion bounced in Mattheo’s arms, beaming.

“And you’re not even dressed,” Mattheo stared at Orion, pretending to be stunned. “Where’s your mother, Ori?”

“She’s helping Andy get dressed,” Orion announced. Mattheo nodded and carried his son to his daughter’s room. “Mum!” Orion cried out, seeing Y/n standing behind Andromeda, knotting her hair into a braid. 

“Oh, my darling,” Y/n tied Andy’s hair up before crossing to Mattheo and taking Orion from his arms. “Are you excited for your birthday?”

Orion hummed excitedly and wiggled down from Y/n’s arms. He darted to Andromeda and wrapped himself around her in a tight hug. Andromeda grumbled, but allowed him to cling to her as she finished her hair and rouge.

Mattheo took Y/n’s hand and pulled her back toward him, nudging his nose against hers. “Look at that,” he murmured, reaching down to play with the silver and green ring on your finger. “Mine.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. Slowly, as to not arouse suspicion from your children, he backed you up and caged you against the wall in his arms. “Seven years with you and two beautiful children to show for it.”

“Hey, mum? Where’s my- eugh!” Andromeda turned around and reeled back from the scene in front of her. “For the love of Salazar, please get a room!”

“We are in a room.” Mattheo smirked, glancing up from the crook of your neck. 

“Aren’t you two, if I'm doing my calculations correctly, nearing thirty years old?” Andromeda tsked and rolled her eyes. 

“You believe that simply because we’re getting older, I’m going to stop loving your mother?”  Mattheo chuckled before pressing a light kiss to your jawline. 

You shivered and tucked your face into your husband’s chest. “Matty, spare the poor children,” you chastised lightly. “What do you need, darling?” you turned towards Andromeda.

“You used to call me that,” Mattheo whined. He stepped back from you, letting you out of his embrace.

Andromeda sighed and asked, “where is my white shawl? It’ll go well with the dress I’m planning to wear to Orion’s party.”

“Why does it matter what you wear to Orion’s party?” Mattheo asked, puzzled. 

“Because Albus Potter is going to be here,” you said as if it were obvious.

“Harry Potter’s son?” Mattheo asked incredulously. “That scumbag?”

Both you and Andromeda ignored Mattheo and Orion left the room at the sound of Aunt Pansy entering the foyer and shouting out for her favourite nephew.

“Your shawl should be in the library,” you answered. “Ori was using it as a blanket yesterday.”

Andromeda sighed and turned towards the door. “He needs to stop taking my things. Just last week he stole my candelabra so he could read in the dark. Perhaps you should accelerate his schooling. He’s getting bored, you know.”

“We’ll raise our own son, thank you, Andromeda,” Mattheo raised a brow. Andy huffed and and flicked her dress out behind her dramatically, exiting the room. Mattheo turned to you and said, “they get that from you. The love of reading.”

“Yes, but they get their flair for the dramatics from you. And lest us not forget, you keep fuelling our love of literature by buying more books and expanding our library,” you countered.

Mattheo hummed. “‘Tis true. But how could I live without spoiling my wife and children?” He whirled you around in his arms and pressed a long kiss to your lips. “Speaking of children, what would you think of expanding our family?”

You let out a laugh. “You simply like the act of making a bigger family.”

“I love my children too,” Mattheo defended.

You reached up and brushed some of his hair away from his face. “Yes you do,” you smiled up at him. “You love your family very much.”

“Always.”

[avtrbee]

the prince

✢summary: what happens when your husband brings home a son that is not yours?

✢tags: arranged marriage gojo satoru x reader, reader is a clan kid, she’s v traditional, obvious cat and jon snow references

✢tw: implications of cheating, mentioned abuse, misogyny ig

✢ a/n: i’m not gonna lie to you guys, i know i’ve been a while and im really ashamed that i come back with something that i believe this isn’t my best work at all. i had this prompt in my head for a long time and i have wanted to publish this ever since. always love hearing from all of you and i’d like to get some feedback as well <33

You were a clan kid fortunate enough to be born with the clan’s cursed technique but unfortunate enough to be a woman. Your childhood tutors had drilled the duties of wives in your head, and had made you comfortable with the idea of an arranged marriage. You pride yourself as a good traditional daughter, whose greatest honor would be marrying your husband.

Never in your life did you imagine yourself caring for a child that is not yours.

That was, of course, until you met your husband.

You have heard of Gojo Satoru before and fought him a few times during sister-school events, but never in your life did you think he’d be who you were destined for. Still, he surprised you.

“You are my wife, my equal,” he promises you at the night of your wedding. The ceremony was over and the guests have gone home. You have said your vows in front of the gods and they have bounded you to this man.

He drags you off to bed and makes you sit on the floor with him.

Satoru looks at you with the moon shining on him making him look like an ethereal god. And to you, he was. Which is why you tilt your head at his statement. “Gojo-sama, I do not understand-”

“Satoru,” he says. “I am your husband, you should call me by my name y’know.” His voice is light and teasing, underplaying the reality of the situation. “I don’t want a slave. I want a confidant. A partner. I need someone. Do you understand?”

You nod. Strangely you do. “We must protect each other.”

You were both very lonely people thrust into a union none of you asked for. There are targets on your backs for sins you cannot control. You were alone, but not anymore.

Your husband nods and he takes his glasses off. You realize for the nth time that Satoru is a pretty, pretty man. His blue eyes shine and twinkle like the stars above.

He reaches for your hand- a strange gesture but you allow it anyway. “I will do right by you,” he promises. In his mind he remembers his mother, the one who loves too much but is loved so less. Like her, Satoru’s marriage is arranged by the clan. But he will not be his father.

He is a man of his word.

The next morning you find yourself waking to an empty bed with a smell of burning food. You catch your husband defeated before the stove with burnt scrambled egg on the table. “This is what couples do, right?”

You stare at him, simply horrified that you had failed to wake up first. You were supposed to cook him breakfast, not the other way around.

Satoru catches your expression. “Hey! It’s not that bad!” He pokes the pathetic excuse of a scrambled egg. His mother had always cooked for the family, it shouldn’t have been this hard. “…right?”

You ban him from your kitchen.

He takes you to the school next. You walk behind him, as is the norm, but Satoru makes a face that pushes you to stay beside him. His voice echoes in your head, you are my wife, my equal.

The weather was perfect, but he fusses about the fact that you decided to wear a sleeveless sundress that he deems inappropriate for the wind.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?”

“Yes, Satoru.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow suspiciously, like he does not believe you. He reaches over and takes your hand in his. His face morphs to an expression of victory. “Ha! Your hands are cold. You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.” He spits, but his voice lacks venom. You pretend to ignore his poor excuse to hold your hand. Deep inside you like it. Romance is for fiction and some anime you were lucky enough to watch. A distinguished member of your the Gojo clan does not deserve it, but your husband is a romantic.

He stops you from walking out of the shade of the trees and into the sunshine. He opens his tote bag and points to a closed umbrella. “Do you need this? To protect you from- y’know.”

His points up to the sun.

Against your will you find his needless worrying endearing. He does not know his role as a husband well, but he is trying. When you finally arrive inside the Tokyo school, his hand is still clasped in your. Satoru is loud and proud when he introduces you to everyone, even if you have done nothing to deserve such pride. His co-workers pity you for being married to him and offer their condolences. Satoru protests strongly.

“Y/N loves spending time with me!” he says, stomping his feet like a child. He tugs your hand and looks at you in support. “Right?”

You smile and nod. You do. You wonder if you may love him someday.

-

The night is dark, and Satoru is not home yet. It has been a slow 8 months since your marriage. The ladies from your clan were wrong. Your husband is not cruel. He does not scold you if you use your cursed technique even when you accidentally use it on him.

You have never been someone good with words, so you decide to bake him a simple carrot cake. Your husband has a sweet tooth and he has a penchant of liking things better if it came from you.

You had only just finished adding icing the cake when you felt Satoru’s cursed energy through the door. You take a look at your cake one last time before heading towards the door to greet him.

Traditionally a wife must wait for her husband to enter in the middle of the room kneeling for supplication- a tradition most ingrained in your head more than most. As a compromise, Satoru suggested to have you greet him by the door instead because- “The first thing I want to see when I get home is your cute face. Obviously.”

You dust off imaginary crumbs off your hands by wiping it on your pants before sliding the door open.

“Welcome ho-”

In front of you, Satoru looks cold. You wonder if this is how others see him. He looks down at you with a cold gaze, He does not tremble. There is a child in his arms.

Both child and Satoru looks at you with twin cold eyes. You shiver. “He’s mine.”

You hear maids scuffle from behind you, but you do not care. The child innocently rests his cheek on Satoru’s shoulder looking at you.

There is no doubt the child is his. Your husband’s hair is on his head and dear god- their eyes. They have the same eyes.

In your head you hear the ladies of your clan again. Stand tall, Y/N. They may have their mistresses, but you will always be his true wife.

Of course you knew about Satoru’s womanizer past- present. Are you upset? Are you angry? You do not know, truly. You are simply confused.

Your clan’s ladies have prepared you for worst; what to do when your husband brings home another woman, what to say if they came home violent, where to go if you are too broken and beaten to sleep beside him. But what if your husband brings home a son that is not yours?

There is a pain in your chest you do not understand. This is expected! Men cannot be held down by just their wives. Did you expect him to be different? A cold fury washes over you

“Welcome home.” You finish instead.

-

check out my masterlist, and don’t forget to lmk how i can improve this fic <33

[churipu]

𐙚 THREE TIMES NANAMI MADE YOU CRY ⋆ ˚｡

featuring. nanami kento x reader

warning. referral to the reader as 'wife'

note. i just felt so mellow today — because a lot of sad nanami edits have been passing by in my fyp and i'm about to have a mental breakdown because of it, when i catch gege >:( a lil note, i cried writing this bcs i miss nanami so much help

✴ ONE : WHEN HE PROPOSED TO YOU

it took him a short time to realize that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you — he sees you cooking breakfast at the crack of dawn just for him before he goes to work, and he realizes that, yes, you were the one for him.

"do you want to marry me?"

your head turned to him slowly, eyes following just a few seconds after and you blinked, "i'm sorry, what?" you ask him.

nanami's eyes raised up to meet yours, "do you want to marry me?" he repeats his question calmly.

it was a day like every other — the both of you sitting on the couch, the television on yet nobody's paying attention to it. nanami has his eyes on the magazine in his grasp, and you were on your phone, scrolling through social media.

"yeah, of course i do."

nanami takes out a velvet colored box from his pocket and opens it up, you stared at him in confusion; wondering if this was a joke or not, is he actually proposing to you while you were in your pjs? but that actually didn't bother you — it was the fact he is proposing to you.

"marry me." he murmurs out softly, taking the beautiful ring out of its place, waiting for your acknowledgement.

your tears began flowing out and it took nanami by surprise, "sweetheart, i'm sorry. was it too sudden? you don't have to—" you shook your head at him, wiping your tears away.

"i'm just so . . . happy, ken."

that was the first time he made you cry.

✴ TWO : HIS WEDDING VOWS

your wedding was a simple ceremony. it was filled with fun and laughter, your loved people were there — his loved people were there, gojo and his students were there. it was just, a one fine day, really.

when it comes to the delivering of vows, traditionally; the groom goes first.

"y/n, i'm not good with my words, but you know me better than anyone else, so i assume you know that as well. we met five years ago when i bought a casse-croûte in a bakery you worked in; and if you had told me then that we'd be standing here and i'd be spending the rest of my life with you, maybe i wouldn't believe in you and told you that you were saying nonsense.

first and foremost, i would never thought that a one stop shop in a bakery would lead me to the love of my life — that day, i decided to stop by the bakery you worked in because my usual place was closed for the day, when i think about that, i get so overwhelmed; if my usual shop had opened that very day, maybe you would be standing here with another man, another man who is not me.

y/n, you are the most curious person i have ever met in my life. and i am pretty sure you are asking yourself now, what is kento thinking of right now? the answer is you. i am thinking about you now, later, and forever. from the first day you asked me if i liked casse-croûte, i have not once stopped thinking about you.

i was never a person who sought for relationship or thought of it a lot in the past, but when you came into my life. i began thinking of my future with you, making our own happy family, having kids, traveling the world, all of that. the moment i saw you take your time to wake up before me to cook me breakfast before i go to work, i knew i just had to make you my wife. i want to spend the rest of my life with you.

you love me and completed me in ways i do not know existed, and my love — i promise you, that from here onwards, i will continue to love you and every piece of you and for who you are yet to become. i promise to be your husband, your best friend, your partner in crime as you always like to name it, and your number one supporter, also as you name it.

above all, i promise to show you how lucky i am to have you in my life. i cannot wait to start a new chapter in my life with you, i love you."

it was safe to say that everyone in the room was crying, including you (and gojo, who had to be escorted out by megumi because the male was straight up sobbing loudly).

✴ THREE : WHEN HE DIED

shibuya. october 31, 2018. god, how much you dreaded every single thing that happened in there — just the thought of october coming after that year made your stomach churn in sadness.

the day a lot of people lost their life, including nanami.

nanami is a strong man, and you know so. you believed in him, never did you once stopped believing in your husband; but the whole time nanami was fighting for his and everyone's life in shibuya, you were back at home with your few months old son.

"daddy is going to be okay, yeah? he's gonna be back soon," you cooed to your son despite the rising wariness.

but no, nanami never came back.

the one to break the news was no other than itadori yuuji himself, the sole witness to your husband's passing — he knocked on your door, beaten up, although his wounds were tended to. you knew the shibuya incident scarred the young boy with something that couldn't be closed off now or maybe ever.

"he's not coming back, is he?" you ask the teen with a sad smile.

itadori broke down on your porch that day. and you, nanami's wife was the one comforting him, after all, watching someone you care die in front of you was traumatizing. but itadori blamed himself for nanami's death — he was baffled when you pulled him into a tight hug, "it's my fault y/n-san! i killed him. he's dead because of me."

as much as nanami doesn't display his affection to itadori, you were a witness to how nanami really feels towards the young boy. telling you how he wishes your son would grow up to be just like itadori, bubbly and energetic. nanami cares about itadori like the boy was his own — although failing to show it.

"did he . . . did he say anything before he . . ?"

itadori cried in your embrace, "he . . . said he was sorry. for not coming back. and that he loves you and your son so much . . ." itadori was barely taking breaths in, he was hyperventilating in your arms, "he said he was sorry that he won't be able to accompany you to malaysia."

"okay." you didn't cry as itadori was breaking the news to you, you couldn't.

nanami's death quieted you — you didn't cry the first week, still not believing he was actually gone. finding yourself sitting on the couch, waiting for the male to open the door and to call out for you, "y/n, i'm home."

but it never happened. nanami was really gone. he's really dead.

grief is such an odd feeling, you relied on itadori to look after your son for the first two weeks as you didn't find yourself in the right mind to be capable of taking care of your own flesh and blood. a day before your son was going back into your care — you went grocery shopping, to buy things both nanami and you used to buy.

it was a mistake on your part not to use a basket or a trolley, putting all the stuff on the cashier counter was hard work. and as the baby food you put on top of the pile slipped through your fingers and dropped onto the floor, splattering the contents everywhere, you can't help but to let a few stray tears out.

your silent sobs turning into a full blown breakdown in the middle of a grocery shop as everything began coming in, a reality check.

that nanami was no longer going to be there with you again, you couldn't feel him anymore, you couldn't hear him anymore, you couldn't smell his cologne anymore.

but the world doesn't stop for that, it will keep going and you had to go on with your life without him.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[lnfours]

half of me, half of you | l.n

summary: welcome to the world, baby norris <3 and welcome back to part 3 of this little universe we have going on here! 🩷 requested by anonymous: ‘Omg part three for forevermore??? Like the wedding and then maybe kids🫣’

warnings: pregnancy, surprises, hormones, lando finding out he’s going to be a girl dad 🥹, a whole lot of fluff n stuff

masterlist | ask box

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

“how much longer?” you asked, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet in the bathroom. the brunette girl swiped down on her phone, displaying the timer she had set almost 2 minutes ago.

“30 seconds..” she trailed off, eyes meeting your nervous figure as you bounced your leg up and down. you sent her a soft smile back, beating yourself up for not taking a test sooner.

the past week you had felt terrible. felt like someone had hit you with a bus, thrown it in reverse and then backed up over you. your emotions were all over the place, you couldn’t keep anything down, and suddenly you were craving things you didn’t even like.

your suspicions had brought you to lily, your best friend. alex’s girlfriend, the girl you could rely on for anything.

the alarm of the timer echoed throughout the hotel bathroom. you jumped, eyes quickly moving to the box where the lily had shoved in the little white stick.

you felt like you were going to throw up again because of how the nerves were shaking through your body, “can you…?”

“you don’t wanna read it?”

you shook your head fast, “no, i’m scared,”

she frowned softly, kneeling in front of you, “whatever happens, whatever you decide, i love you and i’m here for you.”

you nodded, letting her hand you the box, “what if he doesn’t feel the same? what if he’s not on the same page? i mean we haven’t even really talked about kids yet, i-“

lily was quick to calm your rambling, coaching you to just breathe for a second. you nodded at her, following her direction as you sucked in a shaky breath.

“for as long as i’ve known lando, he’s always talked about wanting kids,” she said, “and it’s no secret that he wants them with you. he wouldn’t have put that ring on your finger otherwise.”

you smiled softly down at the ring on your left hand, letting out a shaky, “you’re right,”

“usually am,” she smiled back at you as you both let out a laugh, “you ready?”

you nodded again, opening the box and fishing out the little white stick that was about to change your whole life. you flipped it over, turned it the right way around and read it over and over again.

it was positive. you were pregnant.

your silence was an answer in itself for lily as she smiled, cheering and hugging you as you let some of the tears fall down your cheeks and splash onto the marbled tile beneath you.

she had tears in her eyes as well, “you’re gonna be a mom!”

you smiled, letting out a soft laugh in disbelief, “i’m gonna be a mom,”

“the best one out there,” she smiled, pulling you up for a proper hug, “oh i’m so happy for you.”

you laughed again, thankful to have her in your life before you pulled away. you wiped the tears off your cheeks, “guess i should call my ob,” you said and she nodded quickly, “and figure out how i’m going to tell lando.”

lily hummed, “i’m sure you’ll think of something special.”

and you did. you were fiddling with the ring on your left finger, dressed in a black slip dress you had brought with you to the uk. silverstone was the best place on earth, his home race, where his friends were, his family.

and where you were about to tell him he was going to be a dad.

you had given lily the ‘ok’ to tell alex so that you had two people to make sure he would get to the surprise. they both didn’t waste any time, making it their top priority to get lando and bring him back to where you needed him as soon as possible.

you were seated on the blanket in the grass, looking up when you heard footsteps making their way to you. you looked up, the boy dressed in black with his signature white mclaren backwards cap catching your eye.

“hey,” he smiled, letting out a puff of air and looking around at the blanket you had set up, “alex and lily said you had something planned?”

you nodded, “come sit,”

he joined you on the blanket, careful not to knock over the gift box sitting in the middle. you smiled over at him, sensing his nerves.

“what’s up, love?”

you tilted your head towards the white box with a pretty bow on the top, “open it,”

he raised an eyebrow at you, “is something going to pop out at me?”

you laughed, “no! just open it,”

he sighed, complying as he kept it at a safe distance while he took the lid off. once the coast was clear, he reached his hand inside. he felt the plastic stick in his hand and what felt like a photo. he fished them out, eyes landing on the pregnancy test and the picture of the ultrasound you had to confirm that you were pregnant.

he gasped softly, immediately looking over at you before his eyes traveled down to your belly.

“baby,” he started, licking his lips as he sniffled softly, “are you being serious right now?”

you smiled, “deadly.”

he dropped the things back in the box, moving to carefully pull you in the tightest hug he could get you in, “i’m gonna be a dad.”

you nodded, pulling back and wiping under your eyes with the back of your hands, “yeah,”

“and you’re gonna be a mom,” he was really stating the obvious but it brought more tears to your eyes when he spoke, “you’re gonna be the best mom, baby.”

you kissed his cheek softly, “and you’re going to be the best dad.”

he smiled, pulling you closer as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “i love you.”

“i love you.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the months moved on and baby girl norris had finally entered the world, and lord did she have lando wrapped around her little finger already.

from the moment the two met, the nurses handing the little pink blanket over to him, it was game over. her big eyes, which resembled yours, looking straight up at him and her happy gurgles had his heart exploding as he looked down at his baby girl.

“hi, angel,” he cooed, fingers softly brushing against her skin over the tiny little moles and freckles that littered her skin, “oh, you’re perfect.”

you smiled over at your now husband, watching the two interact, “she is,”

he looked up at you, “and so are you, baby,”

you smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as he sat next to you with the little girl in his arms. she was starting to struggle to stay awake, barely keeping her eyes open.

the two of you watched in contentment, his eyes a little watery before he looked back over at you, “we made that,”

you let out a soft chuckle, “we did a good job, yeah?”

he laughed with you, pressing a kiss to your temple, “we did,” he said, “i think you did all the heavy lifting, though. i was just here for the ride,”

you laughed, meeting his eyes, “mm, true,”

he smiled back with that same boyish grin to you, releasing a soft breath, “guess we should probably name her, huh?”

you hummed, “still like the one we had picked?”

he looked down now at the little girl in his arms who now had her eyes closed, sometime during your conversation she had fallen asleep. she was so peaceful and perfect and everything he loved about you wrapped up into one tiny little human. a tiny little human he got to create with you, the other half of his beating heart.

“i do, yeah,” he nodded, “welcome to the world wren norris.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

you made your way up the stairs, a smile spreading on your face as you heard the little girls’ giggle coming from her bedroom. you leaned up against the door way, trying hard not to snicker at your husband who had found himself joining your daughter and her stuffed animals for a tea party.

you watched the two talk about tea and serve them to the dolls and stuffed animals sitting in their respective chairs for a couple minutes before you walked into the room.

“hey, baby,” lando said when you knelt down next to him, giving you the biggest smile, “joining us for some tea?”

“for a bit sure,” you smiled, “everyone will be here soon.”

“oh, mommy, look!” wren said excitedly, “daddy and i drew a picture for you.”

“oh, yeah?” you asked, watching the girl grab the piece of paper, “what is it?”

“we drew daddy’s race car!” she smiled brightly back at you.

you took the piece of paper, noticing the three other stick-figure men in the picture, another one in orange, one in blue and one in red.

“and you drew uncle carlos, oscar and danny?”

she nodded, “it was daddy’s idea.”

you laughed softly at your grinning husband, rolling your eyes playfully, “of course it was.”

you spent some time with you little family, letting them tell you all about their afternoon tea session with mr bear, kitty and mrs froggie, all the stuffed animals sitting in their respective seats.

you grabbed lando’s arm softly, pulling it towards you to read the time on his watch, “we gotta get you ready, wren. everyone’s gonna be here soon!”

she smiled, “can i still wear my princess dress?”

“of course, love,” you smiled. she happily jumped from her seat and ran off to her closet. you looked over at your husband, a smile still on both of your faces.

while you helped change wren into her princess dress, lando had started greeting those who had come to help celebrate your daughter’s third birthday.

it wasn’t long until the little girl left your side, immediately running over to her favorite uncle, “uncle max!”

you smiled when he bent down, picking her up and she squealed happily, “there’s the birthday girl!”

he tickled her sides playfully, her laughter booming as you joined your husband, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“did you get a pony this year?” he asked and you both snickered as wren shook her head.

“mommy said no,” she said, “but she said i could get a puppy!”

“a puppy?!”

you looked over at lando, “i said maybe,”

lando shrugged, “i know you’ll crack.”

“oh she has you wrapped around her finger, mate,” max laughed, looking back at the little girl he was holding, “don’t ya little one?”

“easy, fewtrell,” you laughed, “don’t give her ideas.”

he laughed softly, the little girl going back to her dad to say hi to her uncle alex and aunt lily, leaving you and max standing in the kitchen. he pulled you into his side, giving you a squeeze, “how’re you? i mean, other than enjoying being a mom.”

you laughed, “i’m good,” you let out of a soft breath, “where’s p?”

“she wasn’t feeling well, but she told me to say hi to everyone.”

you frowned, “damn, tell her i said hi and that i hope she feels better.”

he nodded, “i will,”

you both trailed off as you watched lando and alex playfully chase wren, trying to see who could pick her up first, “so, a puppy, huh?”

you rolled your eyes, “it was all him! not me,”

he laughed, “sounds about right, he’d do anything for that little girl.”

you smiled, watching your husband and daughter laugh as alex and lily talked with the birthday girl, asking her questions that made her giggle in response, “he would, and i wouldn’t want it any other way.”

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: "Dad. Don't freak out now. But it turns out my girlfriend is...."

Lucifer: "? Lesbian, yes?"

Charlie: "...an angel."

Lucifer: "Oh I KNOW she is Char-char! Just look at her!"

Charlie: "You whuh?"

Vaggie: "It's- it's not that obvious! ...is it?"

Lucifer: "Aww Maggie, anyone who's known you for two minutes could see that you're just the sweetest most angelic girlfriend."

Charlie: "Oh noo..."

Vaggie: "Uhhh. How, sir?"

Lucifer: "Why, the way you look at Charlie! All soft and gooey! Like caramel melting on an apple!"

Vaggie: "Oh."

Charlie: "No dad I didn't mean 'angel' as in she's sweet like an angel or pretty like angel- I mean! She IS pretty! The most pretty!! Gorgeous, stunning-"

Vaggie: "Getting off topic babe."

Charlie: "We mean it literally. Dad, Vaggie's an angel. Vaggie?"

Vaggie: (wings go floomf)

Lucifer: ".........."

Lucifer: "...."

Lucifer: "Oh." (tears up) "Wowzer."

Vaggie: (PANIC) "Shit oh shit, Charlie- Charlie I made your dad cry-"

Charlie: "H-happy tears, right dad!? Happy tears!"

Lucifer: "Oh, yes. It's only. Standing like that. You two, you look a lot like..." (clears throat) "Golly!"

Charlie: "We look at lot like...?"

Lucifer: "A whoooole lot of happy! Just. Wow! HA!"

Vaggie: "Are you okay sir?"

Lucifer: "Am I okay- are YOU okay??? How did you get down here, Maggie! And without anyone telling me! I would've LOVED to have helped- errr ah well, or at LEAST given you a place to crash- oh GOSH not the best word choice is that ha ha oops! Um!"

Vaggie: "It's alright sir. Charlie kinda... took care of all that. And, me."

Charlie: "She was Exorcist. She is NOT like that anymore. She left them all on her own, and they- they just left her here."

Lucifer: "An Exorcist? One of Lilith's ex's scary vengeance ladies?"

Charlie: "Dad-"

Lucifer: "OHHHH THAT IS HILARIOUS- oh Lili would LOVE this- did you leave him too? The-"

Vaggie: "First dick? Yeah."

Lucifer: "HIGH FIVE! Ooh ooh AND DOWN LOW! Oh haha, I haven't done that part since Charlie was still my size!!!"

Charlie: "Daaaaad..."

Lucifer: "So you left Adam like Lili did and you're dating a demon like I was and you're and angel like me and- oh do you. Do you miss heaven? Are you, trying to get back...?"

Vaggie: "No. I like it here."

Lucifer: "Preferring and happier in hell, another point like Lili! But why?"

Charlie: "She didn't exactly have the best time up in heaven."

Vaggie: "No shit. You weren't up there."

Charlie: "Vaggieeee."

Lucifer: "Youuuuu're looking at her all melty and sweet again~"

Vaggie: "Anyway sir, we just wanted you to know."

Lucifer: "Well gee whiz I sure hope you kids didn't stress over tell me! This is PERFECT!"

Charlie: "It is?"

Lucifer: "Of course it is! Maggie." (takes Vaggie by the shoulders) "Do you know what all of this means?"

Vaggie: "...that i can... keep dating... your daughter..?"

Charlie: "Vaggie of course you c-"

Lucifer: "YOU WERE DESTINED TO BE MY DAUGHTER-IN-LAW!" (hugs her) "You're like a perfect mix of me and Lili! It's like creation made someone specially to understand our daughter- and it's YOU! Charlie's matching other half, her soulmate- exactly the right wife for her!"

Vaggie: "Your- wait- HER-?"

Demon Charlie: "DAAAAAAAAAAAAD!!!!!"

Lucifer: "Two beautiful brides!" (sniffles) (pulls charlie into the hug and cracks them both like glow sticks) "So! When's the wedding!?"

[thatnewweeb]

Baby Fever | My Hero Academia

Characters | Bakugo Katsuki, Todoroki Shoto, Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Toya, Kirishima Eijiro

CW | mentions of pregnancy, suggestive content, reader agreeing to get pregnant, kinda jealousy in Bakugo's, kinda pressure in Midoriya's (from his mom) but also wanting it too

A/N | I love the idea of the boys having baby fever (even though not all of these are them having baby fever), I just think it's so cute

Bakugo Katsuki

Deku was having a kid?!

Katsuki was stunned as he held his phone to his ear, listening to his childhood friend and perpetual rival talking excitedly about the news his wife recently gave him. His grip tightens on the phone as he listens to the green haired man on the other side of the phone gushing about how excited he is.

As soon as Izuku hangs up, he calls out to you, his own wife. When you walk into the room, he walks over to you quickly, long strides leaving him stood very close to you, his arms caging you against the wall.

The look you give as you look up at him makes him smile softly, biting his lower lip a little. He tells you the news about Izuku's first child being on the way, which of course makes you excited, happy for your friends.

"We should have a baby too," he smirks slightly, whispering into your ear. When you give him a surprised, slightly confused look, he smirks, leaning down to kiss you. "C'mon, babe. I can't let that bastard get that far ahead of me. Gonna help me keep up?"

There's no way you could possibly say no when he speaks and looks at you like that. There's no time wasted in trying, him immediately taking you to your shared bed. He can't let that bastard Deku get too far ahead after all, can he?

Todoroki Shoto

Shoto was never really sure if he wanted to have a child or not. He didn't have the best childhood, and he was scared that he would end up being a bad parent.

He was still scared of that, he couldn't deny it, but when you're cuddling with him on the couch, watching television, he can't help but consider the idea whenever a child actor comes on the screen.

This weird feeling had been following him for months now. He found himself doing things he wouldn't usually, resting his hand on your stomach more when you're cuddling, imagining you clinging onto him, heavily pregnant and somehow looking more beautiful than ever.

He had no idea you were also having these thoughts. You hadn't brought it up because you knew he was a little hesitant about the idea. You figured you'd wait for him to bring up the topic first so he doesn't feel pressured, but now, every part of your being aching for a baby, you know you just can't wait any longer.

On one of his days off, you walk up to your fiancé and tell him to put a baby in you. The look on his face is both cute and hilarious. Despite how demanding your initial request was, the two of you sit and talk for a while, getting both of your feelings out there.

When you both agree that you both definitely want a baby, you decide you'll start trying as soon as the wedding is over.

Midoriya Izuku

It had been 4 months since you and Izuku had gotten married in a beautiful ceremony in front of your family and closest friends. Both your groom and your new mother-in-law cried a lot.

Speaking of Izuku's wonderful mother, you were visiting her one day, as you and your husband typically do at least once a week. You absolutely don't mind doing this, I mean it when I say Inko is wonderful, and that includes to you. She fully welcomed you into her little family.

"So, when am I getting a grandchild?"

The question comes out of nowhere, Izuku choking on the water he unfortunately happened to be drinking. "Mom!"

"What?" she asks with a smile. "You've been married for a little while now, surely that's the next step, right?"

Izuku laughs nervously, glancing at you briefly and squeezing your hand. "We don't know when that'll be happening yet."

The entirety of the rest of the time you spend at Inko's home that day, he can't take his mind off what his mom said. He hadn't really even thought about it since you got married, content with his life the way it is now. Now an idea has been planted in his head.

When you're back in the car, driving back to your own house, Izuku interrupts you while you're speaking (he didn't mean to, he was just so deep in thought that he didn't even realise you were talking). He asks if you want to have a baby, and it takes you almost no time to say you do.

Todoroki Toya

There's nothing you could think of that triggered your baby fever. You just wanted a baby, and you wanted one bad. You know your boyfriend will be a good dad, even if he doesn't seem to believe it.

He doesn't seem to believe that he has any kind of soft side. The big idiot obviously doesn't realise the way he acts with you, and you know that he'll be similar with your baby.

He wasn't even considering the idea before you brought it up to him. You weren't exactly subtle about it either, practically jumping on him and telling him to give you his baby. The demand shocks him, but there's something about hearing it come from your mouth that made him want it, made him feel like it would be okay for that to happen. He trusts you, and if that's what you think is best and what you want, he'll give you that.

There is no time wasted, Toya happily spending the rest of the night making sure that you'll get his baby as soon as possible.

Kirishima Eijiro

Eijiro has always liked kids, he thinks they're just adorable! How could he not like them? Being a pro hero means that there are so many children that look up to him, and it isn't an unusual occurrence for him to be swarmed by young fans while he's on patrol.

The baby fever really kicks in for him when a family of three come up to him while he's out on patrol, an excited baby babbling in his mother's arms as he reaches out towards the hero.

The baby's mother explains to him that he's her son's favourite hero. He always smiles and babbles and points whenever Red Riot is on television. It goes without saying that hearing that makes your boyfriend's soft heart melt.

As soon as they leave, he decides he'll have to bring this up with you as soon as he gets back to you. He's known for a while that he wants a baby, but after that reaction, he knows he has to bring it up to you.

Of course, he does bring it up to you very quickly when he gets home after patrol is over. It's pretty much the first thing he says to you when he walks through the door, picking you up and spinning you around when you agree to start trying. He wastes no time in starting to try for a baby with you.

[pierregazly]

1+ 2 = ...4? ꨄ pierre gasly smau

pierre gasly x wife!russell!reader

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of twins, george having a meltdown

in which pierre put his tripod to use and caused two major outcomes, george has a meltdown, and all the fans just want to know what's going on?

ynrussell

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, and 23,407 others

tagged pierregasly

ynrussell joyeux anniversaire mon amour. three years ago today i married the love of my life and became the official mrs. gasly, so excited to give you your present tonight 🫶🏻

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username omg babes post the present!!! let us all be jealous

username happy anniversary mom and dad

charles_leclerc 🥳💗

username feel like it was just yesterday that i was jealous out of my mind about their wedding... still jealous tho

pierregasly joyeux anniversaire ma chère, i am the luckiest man in the world

pierregasly can't wait to give your your own present tonight

pierregasly it rhymes with tierod

username TRIPOD PIERRE

username im SCREAMING send this man right to PRISON

georgerussell63 god every time i see anything to do with you two i have to bleach my bloody eyes. happy anniversary you two, im disgusted.

username poor george, him and carmen are so tame compared to these two... i love the polar opposite sibling trope

ynrussell has posted a story

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pierregasly i hope the pizza was good ma chérie, and hope it satisfied the little bean's cravings

ynrussell it was delicious... but we kind of want chocolate now too :(

pierregasly ill check ubereats and see what i can do

ynrussell mine and the bean's saviour 🫶🏻

pierregasly

liked by ynrussell, charles_leclerc, alpinef1team, and 209,444 others

tagged alpinef1team

pierregasly unfortunately not the finish we would have liked, the 15 second penalty cost us significantly and i apologize to my team and all our fans for it. will come back bigger and better next time 💪 now time to go and spend some well deserved time off with my family

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username thank you for pushing through and giving us an awesome race to watch pierre!

username loved your helmet this weekend pierre!

username sad that mother ynrussell wasn't here this weekend, but happy to see her in the likes

username 'well deserved time off with my family' do we think that's alluding to something else????

username girl he's obviously talking about his wife and his family??? like what

username ummm sorry he almost always says 'my loved ones' gotta push the pregnancy rumour agenda some more

ynrussell we're all so proud of you pear 🫶🏻 the track limits and penalties are bullshit and i'll be sending a strongly worded letter to whoever costs you anything good

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pierregasly 😂😭🤍

username who is 'we're all' who is the plural that she's referring to omg

username i'm telling y'all... mother is becoming a real mother idc what any of y'all say

pierregasly has posted a story

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ynrussell omf make sure you get extra cheesecake... and extra elcairs, and a few brownies... maybe get a few of everything??? the bean's want them!!!!

pierregasly well if the bean's want them....

username this SCREAMS my wife is pregnant and sent me on a late night snack run omf

username tell us your secret!!!!

ynrussell

liked by pierregasly, georgerussell63, carmenmmundt, and 46,578 others

tagged pierregasly

ynrussell sorry just have to appreciate how incredibly sexy it is seeing my super sexy amazing husband with kids!!! like how lucky am i!!! can't wait til' you're holding our future babies (my ovaries are exploding, i am crying, it's going to be a long day)

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username girl this seems a little feral idk

georgerussell63 this is certifiably disgusting. please grow up.

username you know who would post something like this??? a wife expecting a baby who is getting more excited about that baby seeing her husband with kids

username seems legit idk

pierregasly is this your nice way of asking me to pickup more eclairs on the way home?

ynrussell cinnamon buns too?? please?? je t'aime

pierregasly can't wait to hold our future bean's too ma chérie

username pierre as a dad is going to be so sexy, ynrussell is so right??? those babies are going to be beautiful omf

ynrussell and pierregasly

liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt, georgerussell63, and 566,493 others

pierregasly october 2024 / gasly thing 1 and gasly thing 2 🐣🚼

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ynrussell omg i'm pregnant???? SURPRISE

ynrussell maman is begging for them to come sooner, her poor back.

username AH I KNEW IT. I CALLED IT. MY HEART.

username THING 1 AND THING 2 AHHHHH

username pierre is gonna be a girl dad AND a boy dad?????? we're so blessed

georgerussell63 excuse me????

georgerussell63 you knocked my sister up????

georgerussell63 i told you to stay away from her??? this is outrageous i am disgusted

pierregasly sorry, tripod's work well.

ynrussell pierre delete this comment rn, i swear to god.

georgerussell63 (i am so excited to meet my baby niece and baby nephew. uncle georgie loves you both so much)

lewishamilton congratulations! roscoe is so excited 🤍

charles_leclerc uncle cha reporting for duty 🫡 congratulations, you two.

georgerussell63 i'd like to emphasize i'm still having a meltdown from when you casually gave me a bottle of gin to announce this. gasly genes should not be casually mixed like this.

username i dont think anyone understands the joy im feeling??? im honoured to be alive to see this

username they're gonna be such amazing parents im literally ????? so excited??????

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ynrussell thank you for the beautiful baby shower, auntie carmen already has spot number 1 🫶🏻

username omg omg omg omg

username this is SO CUTE

ynrussell has posted a story

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username girl u look like ur about to pop (lovingly)

pierregasly my beautiful wife

ynrussell i don't feel very beautiful right now. i feel huge and tired and exhausted.

pierregasly still the most beautiful woman in the world

ynrussell

liked by pierregasly, alexandrasaintmleux, georgerussell63, and 56,439 others

ynrussell things are getting very, very real (not real enough for my back to not hurt, thing 1 and 2 you both are killing me)

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username this aesthetic is so CUTE (that room is fucking beautiful i want a house tour????)

username they're literally due in like less than 2 months???? pierre is gonna be a dad that soon???? praying for u ynrussell

charles_leclerc im personally demanding compensation for the bruises i have from putting the nursery together

ynrussell shut up cha, you literally offered and begged to be involved

pierregasly yeah shut up cha

alexandrasaintmleux can't wait to see my art piece up in the bébé's room 🫶🏻

ynrussell knew i could always count on you angel

username im so invested in this pregnancy none of you even understand

username starting a poll asap on the babies names omf

ynrussell and pierregasly

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ynrussell 2024.10.16 / welcome to the world my precious théodore and éloïse. maman and papa love you so much.

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username omg congratulations!!! such beautiful names.

username they share a birthday with charles im crying

lewishamilton congratulations! so beautiful, you are a rockstar ynrussell

charles_leclerc truly the best birthday present i could've asked for. ellie and théo should be so proud of their maman.

pierregasly the happiest day of my life, given to me by the most important woman in my life. thank you for blessing me.

username again i am so invested in this. i am so happy for these two, they're going to be incredible parents.

alpinef1team welcome to the family baby éloïse and baby théodore!

mercedesamg welcome to the family x2

username oh girl the racing teams are gonna FIGHT over these two just you wait

and there she is! after weeks of gasly!twin asks, i finally decided it was time to bring them to life in the realest way i could. i hope you all loved this as much as i loved writing it. thank you to everyone for all the incredible inspiration, and for continuing my obsession.

taglist

@leclercdream @myescapefromthislife @princessria127 @iloveyou3000morgan @love4lando @asfaraslifegets @decseptapril @somanyfandomsbruh @fangirl125reader @imagandom @motorsp0rt @jspitwall @glitterf1 @christianpulisic10 @carlandonorri-s @smoothopz @eugene-emt-roe @epitios @myloverjk-blog @glow-ish @goldenmclaren @mercunty @success78 @nicolereinara

if you're missing from the taglist, pls dont hesitate to send me a message!!

[sunny44]

I promised you

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fiancée!reader

Warnings: mentions of Charles father, google translated French

Summary: Charles and Y/n have known each other since they were kids, the relationship grows and they’re about to get married. The wedding day is already very emotional but Charles does something to makes everything way better.

The part in italics is the flashback.

Married.

That’s what is was getting today.

Charles and I have known each other all our lives, we have been best friends since we were kids.

We have been dating since forever, had all our first times with each other, and I believe we are soul mates.

I remember the first time we met and also the first time he said we would get married. We were 7 years old at the time and he was playing with his Ferraris cars while I was organizing my bracelets in a little box that I had gotten from his mother.

"Charles, give me back." I kept trying to get the bracelet but every time I got close he took it off. "Charlie."

"I'm not giving it back."

"It's my favorite bracelet, you'll ruin it."

"I'm only giving it back to you when we get married."

"That will take a long time, we're small yet."

"Then when we get bigger we'll get married and then I'll give you the bracelet back." I huffed giving up taking it and sat back down on the fluffy carpet in the living room.

"You look so beautiful." My mother says behind me fixing my veil.

"Thank you mom."

In the room where I was getting ready was my mom, Charles' mom, Lily, Lorenzo's girlfriend Charlotte, Arthur's girlfriend Carla, and Elena.

"You had already looked beautiful when we went to pick the dress but you look perfect now" Charlotte says and smiles at them.

"Do you guys really think it looks good?”

"Of course, you are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen. You look like came straight out of a bridal magazine." Lily holds my hand and smiles.

"It will all work out, you are perfect for each other."

I start to get nervous and tears start to come out of my eyes and the anxiety starts to make me breathless.

"Honey, breathe."

"Can I talk to him? Please." My mother agrees and they all leave the room leaving me alone.

"Babe." I hear his voice from the door.

"Hi."

"Are you okay, your mom said you wanted to talk to me."

"I'm getting nervous and out of breath." He opens a crack in the door and puts his hand inside.

"Hold my hand." He says and at the same time I take his hand intertwining our fingers. "Now take a deep breath."

I started to take a deep breath and dried up tears with a handkerchief.

"It will be okay, in a little while you will walk down the aisle and I will be there waiting for you and crying from seeing how beautiful you will look." I laughed at his line. "I love you and nothing is going to change that so just take a deep breath and I promise I will be there waiting for you, I’m not going anywhere."

We stood there for about 10 more minutes until he had to go because the time was coming, I heard a knock on the door and allowed the entrance watching Pescale enter.

"Your father is already waiting so I won't take up too much of your time, not least because I am anxious for you to marry my baby boy." I laughed at her anxiety and she took my hands. "I know it's your wedding but I wanted to ask you something."

"Sure."

"When Harvé and I got married I gave him this gold watch and I wanted to ask you to take it down the aisle with you and give it to Charles, we both know how much he wanted his father to be here to see this and I wanted him to have a part of his father along with him." And once again I was crying. "I dear don’t cry, you'll ruin your makeup.”

"I will, I will." I smiled and she dried my tears.

"Thank you, dear. And thank you for taking such good care of him."

"Thank you for making him." She laughs.

"Ready?" my father appears in the doorway and I agree. "You look so beautiful."

"Thanks dad."

...

We were positioned waiting for the door to open, I was with my arm intertwined with my father's when the music started to play, Charlie didn't know but I had chosen AUS23 to play while I enter and I could see his surprised face with the music but soon his look of or on me and I could see the most beautiful smile I’ve e er seen in my life.

Everyone was standing as I walked over to him, when we got there my father shook his hand and whispered something before handing me over to Charles.

"You look beautiful." He says and I smile.

"You look beautiful too." I hold his hand and hand the watch to Charles who instantly recognized it and looked at his mother who smiled. "I know you really wish he was here because I feel the same way, but I know he is taking care of us and that he is happy."

“I'm sure of it."

And then the priest starts with the usual speech.

"I Charles Marc Harvé Perceval Leclerc take you, Y/n Y/l/n as my lawful wife. To love and respect you, in sickness and in health, in wealth and in poverty until death do us part."

“I Y/n Y/l/n take you, Charles Marc Harvé Perceval Leclerc as my lawful wedded husband. To love and respect you, in sickness and in health, in wealth and in poverty till death do us part."

"I pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride." At this he holds my face kissing me and I could hear the shouts of celebration from everyone making me smile in the middle of the kiss.

"I have something to give you." He says as soon as he separates but with his forehead still glued to mine. "Here."

He pulls something from his wrist and I see that same bracelet he stole from me years ago.

"Charlie."

"I said I'd give it back when we got married and I keep my promises." I smiled through tears as he taped it to my wrist. “And when I said to you that I’m not going anywhere I mean it. You are the love of my life and I love you with all my heart.

“I love you more Charlie and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life by your side.” He smiles taking my hand next and we walked to the exit of the church to finally start ours lives together.

Bonus scene!

Y/nleclerc instagram post

Liked by @charlesleclerc and other 1938292

@y/nleclerc and here are some of my favorite pictures of the best day of my life, I still can’t believe it that your my husband and that were going to spend the last of our lives together.

I can’t wait to start our family and to grow old with you, you are the best thing that ever happened to me and I’m thankful everyday for you.

Je t'aime pour toujours Charlie (I love you forever Charlie).

[beomcoups]

here's to forever (the athlete)

summary: today is the day you finally marry your best friend

genre: fluff, suggestive, 18+ warnings: mentions of sex (hoshi wants to pump some babies into you), mentions of pregnancy words: 0.9k AN: Thank you, @horanghater, for looking over this for me. Every year on the anniversary of the OG fic, I always end up writing another part about their lives since they met. I'm becoming a real yearner. Anyhoo, I decided to go ahead and make a series master list because I am sure more will come, lol. -series masterlist

“I love you.” You rub Soonyoung’s hand with your thumb as he holds back tears, standing before the officiant, his football coach. You just married the love of your life and best friend in front of your family and friends on a large farm in the country. You exchanged heartfelt vows in front of one hundred people on the estate, with the birds singing in the sky and the geese swimming happily in the lake. So far, this day has been nothing short of magical, with those six little words sealing the deal. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Soonyoung pulls the veil over your face and kisses you with a fervent need that sets your nerves on fire. Everyone and everything disappears for a second, but it doesn’t matter; you got your dream guy. Your fingers intertwine with his as you finally break apart, met by the thunderous applause of your guests who watched you become one with your now husband, their approval and joy palpable in the atmosphere. Soonyoung waves your hands triumphantly in the air as you walk down the aisle, flashing your wedding rings with pride for everyone to see. You haven’t seen him this proud since he won his first Super Bowl. Two and a half years later, with two more championship rings added to his collection, his eyes have never shined brighter. Soonyoung leads you away from your guests, taking you down a short path to the lake's edge. When you looked at venues, you found this place while looking through Pinterest, falling in love with the green pastures of the farm and the shining crystal-like waters. Soonyoung didn’t care where you married as long as you were his wife by the end of it. But when you took a trip out here and looked at the place in person, you both knew this was where it was meant to be. With the sun shining through the ivory clouds, it was almost as if your dads were looking down and giving their blessing.  

“We did it, babe,” you revel at the scene. “It’s you and me officially.” 

“Darlin’, you and I were official from the day we met. You just didn’t know it yet.” 

You chuckle and lean into him because, honestly, he is right. You were interested in him the first time you met; you were in denial then. You always swore you wouldn’t be one of those journalists who mixes business with pleasure, yet here you are, marrying the said pleasure. Life works out funny that way. 

“You look so pretty, baby,” he murmurs as he pulls you close. “I can’t wait to get out of here and pump some babies into you.”

“Same here, baby,” you kiss his lips. “We might be a little late on the baby part, though.”

Soonyoung looks at you curiously as you reach into the secret pocket of your wedding dress. You had it sown in secret when it was tailored initially to keep your lipstick in if you needed to freshen up or had anything else in mind. But a couple of weeks ago, when you went for your routine check-up, you found out you were ten weeks pregnant. You and Soonyoung talked about kids, and you both want them; this will be earlier than you both planned. It explained why you felt lethargic lately and the smell of anything nauseated you. You weren’t sure how to tell him, so you carried it around just in case the opportunity arose. Now is the time. 

Holding up the ultrasound, you hand him the black-and-white photo of the baby growing inside of you. He studies the picture, then looks at you and your stomach, the dots connecting in his brain. You nod, confirming what he is thinking: you will be having his first child. 

“Aww baby,” he whispers. “You’re pregnant.” 

“Mmhmm,” you nod as you wipe his tears away. 

He kisses you again, this time sweeter, more tenderer, and full of emotion that he can’t convey in words. You naturally melt into him, feeling safe and secure that the future you two have will be bright. Soonyoung has always said he loved you more than anything, but that’s not true. You love him more. He made you believe in love again, protected you when you needed it, and showed up when you needed him the most. You never felt scared to share your thoughts with him, and even if he didn’t understand, he listened and tried anyway. He never tried to take your spotlight. He respected you and made sure others did, too. Soonyoung brings an array of colors to your mundane world that you hope never goes away. God, you love him so much that it hurts.  

“Well, it makes sense why you weren’t drinking the champagne last night,” he muses. “You love champagne.”

“Y-yeah,” you sniffle. 

A comfortable silence falls between you two, taking in the moment as you watch two geese embrace one another. If someone had told you over three years ago that you would be marrying thee Kwon Soonyoung and having his child, you would have laughed in their face. But clearly, the universe has a sense of humor. 

“I want to keep this between us,” you say suddenly. “It’s our first child, and I want to hold on to this a little bit longer before family, friends, and the media get a hold of it. You already know how it goes.”

“Of course, baby,” he readily agrees. “Whatever you want.”

He kisses your forehead, leading you back to the photographers so you can start taking pictures. Your makeup artist brushes up your makeup, and unbeknownst to you, Soonyoung gazes at you from afar, watching you with so much pride and love in his heart. The sun shines brighter as if it’s reflecting the future you will have with each other. 

Here is to forever.

[nathaslosthershit]

Birthday Celebrations (Teen Dad!OP81)

(Part 5 of my Teen Dad AU [can be read in any order])

Summary: The Piastri twins, with the help of their mom, try to make their Dad’s 23rd birthday as special as it can be. Warnings: I am currently pregaming a pregame so I am not writing this while sober. Also I decided to make this super fluffy because it only makes Tensions Rise so much sadder.  A/N: Name reveal for the twins! Also this takes place before Tensions Rise, which originally took place at the Silverstone GP but I have changed it to Suzuka :)

6 am on April 6th, Honey woke up to her alarm. It was earlier than she would usually wake up. On most days, her 3 year olds woke her up at around 7:30, but today she decided to make sure she was waking up ahead of them, in order to intercept any attempts to wake up Oscar on his 23rd birthday. 

She had finished decorating the kitchen when she heard tiny footsteps approaching. Two bleary-eyed toddlers entered the kitchen and looked around, eyes opening wide with a sort of wonder only young children seem to have, as they saw all the balloons and streamers around the room.

“Hi babies, are you excited for today?” Honey asked as she hugged each of her kids. Seeing the confusion appear on their faces, she added, “It's your dad’s birthday! And I think it's about time to wake him up. Are you both ready?”

She was met with enthusiastic nods and once promising that they would get the cake they so desired, she held both their hands as she quietly opened her bedroom door, letting the twins loose to wake their dad up. 

Oscar had been blissfully asleep when he felt weight on him, suddenly throwing him out of sleep. Immediately concerned, he sat up with an impressive amount of swiftness before he realized it was his children sitting on top of him.

“Happy birthday Daddy!” They both screamed at the same time, immediately shoving the cards they had made him a few days prior in his face. They couldn’t write properly yet, so Honey transcribed what the scribbles meant in her much nicer handwriting below. 

“Aw, thank you both. What a frightening but sweet way to wake up.” He said as he gave them both a kiss on the head. He then turned to Honey, who had let the toddlers get their moment with him. Kissing him passionately, the adults only stopped once they heard the ‘ew’s from their two kids. 

“Happy birthday, darling.” She said as she handed him a jewelry box.

“I thought we said no gifts for holidays? That the money should go towards the kids?” Oscar asked as he held the box.

“That was when we were teens and you weren’t making F1 money.” She sassily replied.

Opening the box, he was confused when he saw two gold bands inside, a perfect fit for his and Honey’s ring fingers.

“Look at the engravings.” She quickly added. There, the names Frances and Hudson were engraved, the names belonging to the two kids sitting next to them on the bed. “I thought I would buy the bands ahead of time. I know we aren’t getting married for a bit but I really wanted to add their names to the inside and knew you aren’t big on getting gifts. Think of it as our first step towards our wedding” She rambled. She got nervous the longer he stared at the gift, was it too soon? Did he hate it?

“Honey, this is the sweetest thing ever.” He said as he began to tear up. They hadn’t started wedding planning, with how busy things had been, it seemed impossible to find the time. This was the first real step towards their forever. As he looked at them, it finally settled in how much he needed to marry her as soon as he could. 

“God I can’t wait to marry you.” He whispered, more to himself than to her. 

“I can’t wait to marry you too, Oscar. Now, let's go feed these hungry kids. I made special birthday pancakes.”

[reigningqueenofwords]

Pinky Promise

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 1,409

Read on AO3

“I have to go to my aunt’s wedding this weekend. So I won’t be able to play with you alllll weekend. I’m gonna be so bored.” You sighed, lying on the floor of the tree house your father built you a couple years prior. At 10, it was still your favorite place in the world. 

Dean made a face. “That sucks!” He was your best friend in the whole world, and you spent every weekend playing together. “What am I supposed to do? Play with Sammy?” 

You giggled at that. “Guess so.” You smiled at him. “What’re we gonna do when we grow up and get married?” You pouted. “We won’t be able to play every weekend together.” 

“Well, I just won’t get married if I can’t play with you.” He said easily. 

Sitting up, you had the look on your face that told him you had an idea. “What if we make a pinky swear?” You started. “If when we’re 25, we’re not married to other people… we get married.” Why wouldn’t you want to marry your best friend? 

He thought for a minute and held up his pinky. “Alright.” He grinned when you looped your pinky finger with his. 

It had been almost 15 years since that day. You hadn’t thought of that day in ages. Dean was still your best friend, too. That never changed, and neither of you let anyone get between the pair of you. Sure, there had been girls over the years that tried to get between you, but he swiftly dumped them. Chewing on your lip, you pulled up a text to Dean. Do you remember the pinky promise we made when we were 10? You sent. You and Dean shared a birthday, meaning both of you would be turning 25 in just over a month. 

After a few minutes, he replied. Sure do! 😉 He sent, making you chuckle and roll your eyes. Why, what’s up? Meet someone and need to back out? 

Your eyebrows shot up at that. Actually, I was just asking if you remembered. I mean, our birthdays are in a month. Don’t you think you should start looking at rings, mr? 😛 You sent, sitting up and looking around your room. It was December 20th, and you’d be driving home to your parents in a few days. You’d see Dean then, too. His parents lived a block over from yours. 

Who says I haven’t been doing that already? Hmmmm? He countered. 

You highly doubted that was the case. Are you trying to tell me that you, Dean Winchester, man who has never dated anyone for more than a year…has been looking at engagement rings and actually plans to make good on this 15 year old pinky promise? Getting up, you made your way to your kitchen. It was almost dinner time, but you didn’t know if you were actually hungry. Your mind was on overdrive. As you got older, you felt Dean would laugh off your pinky promise. He’d say you were just a couple of dumb kids. 

I take pinky promises extremely seriously. Especially ones with my best friend. He sent, making you smile softly at that. 

Please just don’t propose at Christmas in front of everyone lol That’s too much attention for my liking. You knew he’d understand. Small bits of attention were fine, but you liked blending into the background. He was the more outgoing of the two of you. 

I promise 😀 He assured you. What day are you getting here, anyway? 

The idea of dinner forgotten, you leaned against the counter. On the 23rd. You?  

You watched the little bubbles pop up on your phone, hoping he would get there early, too. Guess I’m getting there on the 23rd, too. Meet me in the tree house? I’ll bring the beer, you bring the pizza? 

Grinning, you giggled. Deal. Meet me there at about 4? 

It’s a date! 

The afternoon of the 23rd, you stepped into your parents house. “Dad!” You called out, dropping your bags. It was 2pm, so you had two hours before Dean showed up. 

“There’s my girl!” He grinned, pulling you into a hug. “How was your drive?”

“Good.” You told him. “We want to hang out in the tree house, but it’s cold. Help me hang up some blankets or something so we won’t freeze?” You asked, keeping your arms around him. 

He chuckled. “I did that yesterday. Dean called and tried to offer to pay for anything I need to make it a bit warmer out there. You could sleep out there. I made it so warm.” He said proudly. 

“Oh wow!” You chuckled. “Thank you! Where’s mom?” Although you’d seen them for Thanksgiving, you missed them a lot. 

“Getting ready for our date. I’m taking her out while you and Dean act like kids in the tree house again.” He kissed the top of your head. 

You laughed, looking forward to this time with your parents, and your best friend. As far as you knew, no one but the pair of you knew of your pact. You never mentioned it to your parents, or other friends. Dean never told you he’d told anyone, and he wasn’t one to be very open with many people. However, you also knew all parents involved would be excited. Your parents loved Dean, and his parents loved you. 

Dean hadn’t been lying. He had been looking at rings for you. He’d snuck into your childhood bedroom and borrowed a ring from your jewelry box when he was there for Thanksgiving. This way, he knew what size ring to get. He didn’t want to risk getting the wrong size. 

What you didn’t know was that part of the reason he never dated anyone for too long was because he kept this pact in mind. It had always been you. He crossed his fingers that you’d both reach 25, unmarried, and not in a serious relationship. 

He pulled into your parent’s driveway, grabbing the beer from the passenger’s seat. Part of him felt like he was coming home every time he got there. Smiling to himself, he made his way to the backyard. He could see some light from inside the tree house, and got excited. You were already in there. “Honey! I’m home!” He called, making his way up. It was a bit awkward with the bag with beer, but he managed. 

“Dean!” You beamed when you saw him. As soon as he was completely in the tree house, you all but tackled him. “I’ve missed you.” You pouted as you pulled away. 

He chuckled. “Well, here I am.” He swallowed. “I have something for you.” 

“Dean, Christmas is in two days. You can’t wait two days to give me my Christmas present?” You teased. 

“This isn’t your Christmas present. That’s in my trunk.” He told you, pulling out the small ring box. “I know we were just a couple silly kids when we made that pinky promise, but you’ve remained my best friend for all these years. You know just what to say on the days where everything has gone wrong. There’s no one else I could ever picture myself being with for the rest of my life. Will you make good on that pinky promise and marry me?” 

Your eyes were wide, and you felt a tear fall down your cheek. “Yes!” You grinned, watching him slip on the ring. “How long have you been planning this?” You giggled. 

“I borrowed an old ring of yours at Thanksgiving.” He admitted. “It’s on my nightstand. Kinda didn’t wanna give it back yet. And we spent a lot of time in this tree house, where else would I propose to you?” 

You couldn’t stop smiling. “Guess we should talk about moving closer together, huh? Or moving in together?”

“Actually…” 

Furrowing your brows, you weren’t sure what he was going to say. “What?” 

He looked proud. “I put a down payment on a house. Just a couple streets over.” He told you. “Your dad already has plans to buy a treehouse in that backyard.” 

“My dad knew about all this?” 

Dean shook his head. “He knows I’m buying that house, and that I’d like a treehouse like this one, but I didn’t tell him I was proposing.” While he knew your dad would approve, your dad might have let something slip. “So, looks like we have a wedding to plan, sweetheart.” 

“Damn right we do!”