The days of chaos and trials at Night Raven College were now distant memories, tucked carefully into the corners of Riddle Rosehearts' mind. Though he still carried the lessons and friendships forged during those years, his life had transformed into something much quieter, softer, and infinitely more beautiful. And at the heart of it all was you, Y/n, his wife, his partner, and the one person who taught him that life didn't have to be dictated by rules alone.
It had been five years since those eventful NRC days, and Riddle was now a respected magical lawyer, known for his sharp mind and diligent work ethic. While his younger self might have taken pride in the title alone, Riddle had come to value something far more precious—returning home to you each day. You were his anchor, his reason to smile, and the light of his life.
The two of you lived in a charming little cottage just outside a bustling town. The house was modest, though it overflowed with warmth, love, and, of course, flowers. You spent most of your days tending to your garden, filling it with roses—Riddle's favorites—along with violets, daffodils, and clusters of delicate baby's breath. Each bloom seemed to reflect the love and care you poured into your life together.
The morning started off like any other. Riddle left for work early, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before slipping out the door. "I'll be back by sundown," he had said, voice gentle despite the stoic expression he often wore when focused.
You smiled as you watched him go, a hand absentmindedly resting on your stomach. Though he didn't yet know it, today would mark the beginning of an entirely new chapter—one that neither of you could have planned for.
When Riddle returned home that evening, the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, bathing the cottage in hues of orange and gold. He carried a small bouquet of fresh red roses— a habit he'd developed over the years. At first, he had insisted it was simply proper to bring flowers to one's wife, but you knew better. Riddle loved seeing the way your eyes lit up, even if it made him blush to no end.
"Y/n?" Riddle called as he stepped inside, carefully setting his briefcase down near the door. The familiar scent of your cooking lingered in the air, but the house was unusually quiet.
"In the garden!" came your voice, soft and cheerful as always.
Riddle's lips twitched into a small smile. Slipping off his shoes, he made his way outside to where you were. The sight that greeted him was one he'd grown to cherish—there you were, kneeling amongst the vibrant roses, your hands gently brushing against the petals as if they were made of glass. You looked ethereal in the evening light, strands of hair catching the golden rays like a halo.
"Careful, you'll get dirt on your dress," Riddle said softly, though his tone lacked any real scolding. He approached you, holding out the roses. "Here. For you."
You turned to look up at him, smiling warmly as you accepted the bouquet. "You spoil me too much, you know."
Riddle's cheeks reddened faintly, though he straightened his posture. "Nonsense. You deserve far more than flowers, Y/n."
You let out a quiet laugh, though your heart fluttered at his words. You rose to your feet slowly, one hand brushing over your abdomen—a subtle gesture that didn't escape Riddle's notice. His eyes narrowed slightly, concern flickering across his features.
"Y/n? Are you all right? Have you been out here long?"
"I'm fine," you reassured him quickly, reaching for his hand. "Come sit with me?"
Riddle blinked, his brows furrowing. "Is something wrong?"
"No, not at all," you said softly, leading him toward a weathered bench beneath a sprawling oak tree. "I just... have something to tell you."
The unease in Riddle's expression only deepened as he sat beside you, his gloved hands still holding yours. He searched your face, his crimson eyes sharp and attentive.
"Y/n, you're trembling," he said suddenly, his voice tinged with worry. "What's happened?"
You let out a shaky breath, smiling as you squeezed his hands. "Nothing bad, I promise. In fact, it's... good news."
Riddle tilted his head, still clearly unsure. "Go on, then."
The words caught in your throat for a moment as you stared at him—at the man who had become your entire world. You thought back to how much he'd grown over the years—how his sharp edges had softened, how his heart had opened. He wasn't just the Riddle Rosehearts who demanded perfection anymore. He was *your* Riddle.
Finally, you spoke, your voice soft yet steady. "Riddle... I'm pregnant."
There was a pause—a heartbeat where the world seemed to stop entirely. Riddle stared at you, completely frozen, his wide eyes locked onto yours as if he were trying to process what you'd just said.
"Pregnant?" he echoed faintly, his voice barely more than a whisper.
You nodded, tears welling up as you smiled. "Yes. We're going to have a baby, Riddle."
Riddle blinked once, twice—then abruptly stood up, as though his body didn't quite know what to do with itself. "A baby?" he repeated again, his voice climbing an octave. "You—you're certain? Truly?"
You couldn't help but laugh at his flustered reaction, brushing a tear from your cheek. "Yes, I've seen a healer. I wouldn't lie to you about this, Riddle."
For a moment, he simply stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for words. Finally, he sank back down onto the bench, burying his face in his hands.
"A baby..." he murmured, his voice muffled but filled with awe.
You reached for him gently, placing a hand on his back. "Riddle?"
Slowly, he looked up at you, and you were startled to see tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. His expression was so soft, so vulnerable—it made your heart ache with love.
"I never imagined..." he began, his voice trembling. "I never thought I would have this—a family. You've already given me so much, Y/n, and now..."
You moved closer, brushing the tears from his cheeks. "Riddle, you're going to be a wonderful father. I know you will."
His eyes widened slightly. "What if I fail? What if I... I don't know how to be a good father, Y/n. I don't want to make the same mistakes my mother did."
"You won't," you said firmly, cupping his face. "You're not her, Riddle. You've already proven how much you care—how deeply you love. Our child will grow up surrounded by warmth and understanding. You'll be there for them, just as you've always been here for me."
Riddle's gaze softened, and he exhaled a shaky breath. Slowly, he reached out, his hands settling ever so gently on your abdomen. "Our child..."
You nodded, smiling through your tears. "Our child."
Riddle leaned forward, pressing the softest of kisses to your stomach. "I swear to you," he murmured, his voice shaking with emotion, "I'll love and protect you both with everything I have."
As the sun continued to set, bathing the garden in shades of red and gold, Riddle pulled you into his arms, holding you close as the weight of the moment settled over him. The two of you stayed there, wrapped in each other's embrace, as the garden around you seemed to bloom anew, each flower bearing silent witness to the love that had blossomed—and the future that would soon take root.
And in that quiet, peaceful moment, Riddle Rosehearts allowed himself to dream—not of perfection or rules, but of laughter, tiny hands grasping his fingers, and a home filled with the love of a family he'd never dared to hope for.
