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This is a bonus chapter for the Male!Cruella x Reader series but can be read as a one shot so if you are a new reader, you can read this chapter alone without reading the previous parts. But if you are interested to read the other parts, the links are in the description below

Listen to this first www.youtube.com/watch?v=KcdQk7…

b/n = best friend's name
f/n = first name
h/c = hair color
e/c = eye color
m/n = mother's name

Enjoy!

----
Knock! Knock! Knock!

Roger isolated himself in his room, humming along the rhythm he was making as his fingers danced on the piano keys. “Mmmhmmm-- OH!” With the slam of his hands on the piano, he stopped playing, annoyed with the continuous knocking on the door. “Who could that be at this hour of the day?” he mumbled as he stood to his feet with furrowed brows in irritation that he was interrupted in the midst of composing another song. He went to the foyer and looked for nanny and his wife, Anita, but neither of them were in sight. He assumed they were somewhere at the back of the house so he had no choice but to go to the door himself. Once he was in front of the door, he stopped with a gasp as soon as he saw the silhouette of the visitor behind the stained glass door.

“Roger, who is it?” someone unexpectedly asked that made Roger almost jump in fright.

He spun around wide-eyed, only to see Anita. “Oh thank God, Anita, it’s just you,” Roger said in relief, holding his chest as if protecting his pounding heart that might come out anytime.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Roger, open it--” When Anita was about to reach for the doorknob, Roger immediately gripped her wrists and pulled it towards him, surprising her with his unusual actions. “What is going on!?” she asked in shock.

“Er-- We are not expecting anyone,” Roger replied with a stern look on his face.

“Hello, is anyone home?” the visitor finally called in a rather piqued tone that he had been waiting outside for who knows how long.

Anita and Roger recognized that voice in an instant, confirming their guesses of their visitor’s identity. “Oh, come on, Roger. He’s no one dangerous,” Anita said with a sweet smile, almost going to let out a chuckle, thinking how ridiculous her husband was.

“But Anita!” Roger tried to reason out.

Anita put her hand on his chest reassuringly and said with her soft voice, “I can handle this.” Once she turned the knob, the door. as if on cue, burst open, slamming against the wall. There stood a man with a fur coat, making him look big and intimidating. His tallness did not help lessen his menacing aura. His arms were open as if proudly presenting himself and implying that you should be glad he ever graced you with his presence. That face that Roger always wanted to land a few jabs on, finally returned after a long time.

“You--!” Roger stomped his feet towards the man with the eccentric-looking hair that was black on one side and white on the other. He had his glares that had never been as deathly. If looks could kill, the man would not be standing there for long.

As he was about to charge, Anita wrapped her arms around Roger’s waist to stop him. A nervous chuckle escaped her lips before greeting their visitor, “Good day, Crue.” She leaned to the side a bit in order to have a better look at Crue while she was behind her husband, still trying to calm him down from throwing fits of anger.

“Let me go, Anita! He shouldn’t be here!” Roger struggled to free himself. He could have done that easily but it was his wife holding him and he did not want to hurt her or anything by forcing her arms to break their grasp. Finding it no use, he just crossed his arms over his chest still with an angered look on his face.

Crue chuckled at the sight of Roger trying to get to him. “Now, now, that isn’t how we treat a guest, is it?” he asked rhetorically that rather vexed Roger even more when he saw that smug smile he was wearing on his face.

“We already told you, they’re not for sale,” Roger said in a contained manner but his annoyance was clearly written on his face as day.

Crue laughed even louder at Roger’s remark and waved airily at him. “That isn’t what I came here for, Roger!” Without permission, he just walked inside and went straight to the couch, sitting crossed-legged.

Roger and Anita were obviously surprised at his actions. While Anita closed the door, Roger marched up to Crue and gave him those glare daggers of death. “We did not welcome you here.”

“Oh, but I believe your wife thinks otherwise, am I right, Anita?” He looked over his shoulder to see Anita with a rather astonished look as if she did not know how to react at the situation so she just weakly smiled.

Instead of answering Crue, she walked over to her husband’s side and rubbed his tense shoulders and asked Crue back with her ever gentle voice, “If you do not mind us asking, Crue--”

“Please leave at once--” Roger continued the sentence for her but was immediately cut off when he felt Anita’s palm slap his back and met her eyes only to see that ‘leave-the-talking-to-me’ look.

“Sorry, Roger hasn’t had breakfast yet,” Anita lied but just to avoid any further arguments.

“I see,” Crue muttered, raising a skeptical eyebrow at Roger but then his expression softened as he looked back at Anita. “Oh, I’m sure you are dying to know what I’m here for, right?” he drawled as he stood up and walked in a circle, starting from Roger’s side to Anita’s. They only followed him with their eyes until he draped his arm over Anita’s shoulder. “Well, darlings, good news for you, I’m not going to pester you with your little beasts.” He smirked at them. Roger could not possibly believe what he was saying because his face was saying otherwise.

“What are you here for then?” Roger flicked Crue’s arm away from Anita and pulled her to him in a tight hug.

Crue lowly chuckled. “Well, I’m--” The confidence in him suddenly drained. “How do I say this…?” He scratched his head, attempting to let the words out.

Roger and Anita was puzzled by Crue’s unusual behavior. He was always so sure what he wanted, be it what to say or what to do but this time, he showed the opposite and they witnessed yet another odd phenomenon. He was blushing. Roger released Anita from his hold and went to Crue, pointing a mocking forefinger at him. “Are you actually blushing?” His lips formed into an amused grin.

“Stop it, buffoon. I’m thinking!” Crue quickly rebutted.

Roger could not help it but burst into laughter that he was hugging his stomach in pain.

“Roger!” Anita tried to scold him but seeing how in deep shade of crimson Crue’s face was, she could not help but giggle as well.

“What are you imbeciles laughing at!? I’m serious here!” Crue could not accept the fact that he was being the laughing stock. “I--I’m getting married!” he finally blurted out and immediately crossed his arms, looking away from the couple with a piqued expression. “There! I said it.”

The laughter was cut off as soon as Crue said what seemed to be impossible. “Y-You’re…” Roger pointed his forefinger at him again but this time, it was rather weak, out of disbelief. “What?” he uttered in shock, putting his hand down.

“I’m getting married and you are invited!” Crue hated to repeat himself.

It did not take long before Anita clasped her hands with an astonished expression that melted into a dreamy look on her face and sighed, taking quick small steps to Crue and hugged him. “Ooohh congratulations, Crue!!!”

Roger’s eyes widened at the sight of Anita hugging another man, let alone Crue.

Anita pulled away with a grin on her face, her hands stayed on his shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I am so happy for you!”

“Yes, yes, we are,” Roger interrupted. “But we aren’t going.”

Crue still had a faint blush painted on his pale cheeks and his smile seemed rather sheepish, so not like him. “Why thank you, Anita,” he simply responded with a sweet smile, ignoring Roger. “Good thing you’re home so I don’t have to deal with your husband’s attitude,” he said and looked at Roger unamused then back at Anita with a smile. He took her hand and shook it. “I’ll be expecting the two of you.” He then reached into the pocket of his fur coat and took out two white scented envelopes that smelled of sweet strawberries. “The details are all here.” He gave them to Anita.

“Oh! What a lovely-looking invitation,” Anita commented as she took the envelopes.

Roger went to Anita’s side to have a look at the invitations as his curiosity kicked in.

“We will definitely come,” Anita told Crue.

“What!?” Roger blurted out in obvious astonishment.

Anita added, “Whoever that girl is, I’m sure she’ll--”

“Definitely have to start saying her prayers,” Roger said with his chin up and his eyes loosely closed, still refusing to entertain such requests or invitations from Crue.

“I won’t be taking no for answer,” Crue told the couple with his confidence all of a sudden restored. “That includes you, Roger. You’ll be the musician.” He went over to Roger’s side and held him by the shoulders. “You’ll be playing our pretty little love song,” Crue told him with a gesture of his red gloved hand in the air. “I can already imagine it!”

“Well, I can’t,” Roger said with a bored look on his face. “And I’m not interested.”

“Oh, come on, Roger!” Anita took his hand. “Since when did we last attend a wedding? Such events are just… wonderful. Don’t you remember the time ours took place?”

Roger’s tensed expression softened at the sweet memories of his own marriage and sighed. “I do, Anita, but--”

“Come now, Roger, darling,” she said, placing her palm on his cheek. “Weddings do not always happen, you know?” she added with a lower voice, just above a whisper, trying to persuade her husband. Crue might have done wrong things before but they were still friends after all.

After having a few debates with his own thoughts, he was finally convinced. “Fine.”

“Ah, great!” Crue exclaimed in joy and went between them, slinging his arms on each of their shoulders and tugged them closer to him. “I knew I could count on the Radcliffes! Anita, you’ll be the maid of honor.”

“Huh?” Anita was yet again shocked, putting her hand on her chest. “Me? But I do not even know who your wife-to-be is. She probably has her closest friend to be the maid of honor,” she replied. “And it’s matron of honor. I’m already married.”

“Closest friend?” Crue repeated as if the idea never occurred to him. “Well, I do know she has this one friend named (b/n), but I have no idea how to contact her.”

“Ask her then.” Roger rolled his eyes, implying that the answer to his problem was obvious.

Crue released them and walked in front of them, waving his hands dismissively. “No, no, no! I can’t do that! The surprise will be ruined!”

“Surprise…?” Anita and Roger said in unison.

“Yes,” Crue said proudly. “I have everything prepared and she doesn’t even know. I’m sure she’ll love it.” He chuckled at the thought of your shocked expression, one of the looks on your face that he always loved to see.

Anita shook her head and blinked. “Wait, what? She doesn’t know…? Let me get this straight. You’re getting married…”

“Mhm,” Crue casually responded.

“And… she doesn’t know?” Roger asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Mhm.”

“Oh, but, Crue,” Anita said hesitantly, careful not to offend Crue in any way. “That’s not how marriages work.”

Crue’s confidence again crumbled, turning to the two with shock in his face. “W-What do you mean?”

“You must propose,” Roger answered, still with a bored look on his face. “That will just freak her out! What if she’s not ready?”

“Ready for…?”

“Marriage life,” Anita added. “Crue, even though I haven’t talked to you for a very long time, I know, I can just feel that you are very much in love with her but then, marriage isn’t something only one of you plans out. You should ask her first and see if the both of you are ready.”

Crue looked away. “Oh… I… huh… why didn’t Jonathan ever mention that to me?” He rubbed his chin in deep thought. “Well, then!” He snapped his head back up and looked at them with determination. “The two of you must teach me how to propose at once!”

~~~~

“There…” Ms. Dolores said as she moved away a bit to check your overall appearance, satisfied with how you looked in your white off the shoulder wedding dress.

You were seated in front of the mirror but only when Ms. Dolores stepped away were you able to fully see yourself in such a lovely outfit, designed by none other but Crue himself. You slowly stood up in astonishment, your gaze never averted from your reflection in the mirror. You turned around to look at the back of the dress and saw that its train lying on the floor like milk turned into fabric. You walked a bit and you just could not stop yourself from looking at the tail of your dress in marvel as they flowed along with your movements. You turned to the mirror once more to have a good look at yourself. You sighed and then cupped your hands to your mouth, lowering your head.

“(f/n)?” Ms. Dolores asked, seeing you in a seemingly unpleasant state. She walked to you and put a hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay, dear?”

You took in a deep breath before looking back up, straightening your back as you showed a confident posture to Ms. Dolores but your eyes told her another story. Your eyes glimmered with the tears you were trying hard to hold back but your attempts failed as a drop fell down your cheek.

“Oh, (f/n).” Ms. Dolores took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the tears on your face. “What is wrong?” she asked worriedly.

Your lips managed to curl into a weak smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Dolores. I just can’t believe this is actually happening,” you told her and chuckled. You took both of her hands and squeezed them. “I’m getting married…” you stated the obvious. You could not believe that the day you were looking forward to had finally come. It was only like yesterday when Crue proposed when it was actually a few months ago.

Ms. Dolores just smiled warmly at you and tucked a lock of your (h/c) behind your ear. “Yes, you are.” She gently took her hands back and wrapped them around you in a warm embrace. “Now, don’t cry, okay? Or else we’ll have to redo your make up,” she said, of course, jokingly.

You just smiled at her humor and pulled away to look at her. “I won’t.” You brought your white gloved hand to your face and wiped a tear away with your forefinger.

A knock interrupted your conversation. Ms. Dolores immediately answered, “Come in!”

As soon as the door opened, Anita entered the room with her baby pink gown, holding a bouquet of flower. “Is she ready?” she asked in anticipation. When her eyes landed on you, her expression brightened. “Oh, you look great, (f/n)! Very lovely,” she commented as she made her way to you. You chose Anita to be the matron of honor since your best friend could not make it as she was also the maid of honor in one of her relatives’ wedding. She was invited way before you notified her of your own wedding. Anyway, you and Anita became pretty close while preparing for the wedding and thought it would be best if she became the matron of honor.

“Thank you, Anita,” you told her in a bit of a sheepish way.

“Here.” She handed you your bouquet. “We’ll be going out in a few minutes-- oh, where’s your veil?”

You turned around and grabbed your veil that was resting on the back of your seat. “Here.”

Anita took it from you and helped you wear it over your head. She moved away afterwards to have a better look at you. “I’m sure Crue won’t be able to take his eyes off of you,” she told you with a sweet smile. Ms. Dolores nodded in agreement.

You blushed at the thought of it. “Really? Well, I--” You turned bashful once more, sinking your head in between your raised shoulders. “Thank you….”

“Oh, that’s nothing, “Anita chuckled. She then looked at the time on her watch. “Okay, looks like it’s time.”

~~~~

The flower girls started to walk down the aisle and showered petals down the path. You took in a deep breath as it was going to be your turn next after they all proceeded inside. You could feel your knees shaking and your legs were about to give up on you. You were so nervous that fear and anxiousness mixed altogether, creating clouds of unpleasant thoughts in your head. Even you could not hear the piano playing as you were focused on how you would deal with your worries, not to mention, your father was still not present.

“Everything’s going to be okay, (f/n),” Anita told you reassuringly, sensing your intense nervousness. She was right behind you, holding the train of your silk dress.

You looked over your shoulder and saw her smiling sweetly at you. You then returned the smile but yours was rather nervous and shaky. The flower girls and the ring bearer had successfully made their entry. Now, it was your turn. You took a few steps before turning to face the open doors of the church, the aisle right before you.

“I’m here, I’m here!” Your father quickly got out of the cab and ran to you in his tuxedo.

“Father!” you said almost in a whisper. You had no time to have a little chat so you just locked your arm with his, smiling down at him, glad that he was able to make it. You were rather disappointed that he was late but the feeling vanished almost immediately. It did not matter anymore.

At the far end, by the altar, there you saw your groom in a black tuxedo, something you did not see him wear very often. How you wish your mind was not so much filled with how gorgeous your husband-to-be was. You shook your head a bit as you caught yourself yet in another daydream and started walking down the aisle. You stopped as the music changed into something surprisingly odd for a song while the bride walked down the aisle, making everyone, including you, whip their heads to the pianist, who was apparently Roger. Crue was giving him the deathly glares as he played the tune of the song, ‘Crue De Vil’, and mouthed, “Really!?” Roger seemed to sense the enormous amount of stares he was being given as he turned his head and confirmed his suspicions with a wide-eyed expression. The pressing of the piano keys slowed down until he fully stopped and nervously chuckled. He then cleared his throat, cracking his knuckles and played the right song at last. Everyone’s tensed expressions finally softened and a smile made its way to your face as you continued walking to the altar with your father right by your side.

Later, you heard soft sniffles and turned your head to the side. “Father?” you whispered with a slight surprise on your face. The little man was crying but he was fighting it.

“I’m okay, (f/n),” he answered without turning his gaze away from the altar, trying to maintain a confident expression. “I’m okay.”

You just smiled and looked back at the altar, actually, more like at your groom. But then another sight surprised you as your eyes landed on the man standing right beside him, a man with hair blacker than his tuxedo, his hands clasped in front of him. He gave you one of those charming smiles he always possessed that revealed a dimple on each of his cheeks as your eyes met. Crue never mentioned to you that his best man would be none other than Frank Daniels. You returned the smile afterwards and then not a moment later, your eyes went back to Crue. He always had that magnetic effect on him that brought your eyes back to where they belonged… to him.

When you and your father reached the altar, Anita walked to the other side and stood with the flower girls and bridesmaids. Your father, on the other hand, could no longer contain the tears that he had been choking back ever since you began walking down the aisle and finally cried, wrapping his hands around your waist and squeezed you.

His actions, of course, surprised you at first but later, you hugged back, patting him on the back and smiled down at him before releasing you to take Crue’s hand. Your eyes widened when two hands were extended to you, one belonged to Crue while the other belonged to… Frank.

The corners of Crue’s lips twitched as he gave Frank fiery glares. “Mine,” he muttered while his teeth were gritted.

Frank gave him a stern look and took your hand, making you gasp and rather bewildered as your eyes shifted from Crue to Frank. “Too late,” Frank simply replied. You were mentally panicking, desperately trying to think of ways to stop them two of them from possibly starting a brawl. Later, Frank placed your hand in Crue’s and gently held them together. He chuckled and gave Crue a pat. “Chill, brother. Congratulations.”

Crue’s eyes widened and a faint pinkish blush was on his cheeks from embarrassment. It was true that Frank and him were once rivals but they unexpectedly became friends after some years later and that was why Frank was there as the best man. You could have laughed at the expressions on their faces if only you were not in such a formal event. Frank also gave you a pat and smiled sweetly at you just before you and Crue sat in front of the altar. The officiant began performing the wedding ceremony. Your hand was still in Crue’s and he grazed the back of your hand with his thumb then gave it a gentle squeeze. You could not help but smile at such gesture from him. You would take a few glances at him and see how bored he became each minute that passed. “Ugh… how long is this going to take?” he muttered to no one in particular.

Able to hear what he just said, you giggled. You leaned a bit towards him without taking your eyes off of the officiant and whispered, “Just a bit more.”

He sighed. “Remind me to never get married again,” he mumbled in obvious impatience.

Your eyebrows furrowed at what he just said and slowly turned your head to him, giving him your own version of deathly glares, so intense that even he felt it so he turned his head to you and he was obviously taken by surprise with how you looked at him as his eyes widened and gave you a weirded out look. “What are you trying to say?” you whispered threateningly and leaned in dangerously closer.

He then just realized how wrong his statement just sounded. He leaned in closer as well and he answered softly, “No, no, darling. That’s not what I meant--”

The officiant cleared his throat, startling the both of you and made you sit back up straight. The two of you simply giggled, thinking how ridiculous you must have looked, having your own conversation while the officiant was talking. You then let go of the thought and focused on the officiant’s words. Finally, the two of you stood up, facing each other as you were about to say each of your vows. “Do you, Crue, take (f/n) to be your wedded wife, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and in disappointment, to love her faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?”

Crue’s icy blue eyes met your (e/c) ones as you held hands. “I do,” he said with a warm smile on his face.

“Do you, (f/n), take Crue to be your wedded husband, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and in disappointment, to love him faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?”

Without any second thoughts, you were very sure that the man standing right in front of you was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. “I do.”

“I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may now--”

Not waiting for the officiant to even finish his sentence, Crue quickly unveiled you and cupped his hands on your cheeks, bringing his lips to yours.

“...Kiss the bride,” the officiant continued anyway.

Everyone cheered and clapped while the two of you shared a sweet kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck. When Crue pulled away, he pressed his forehead on yours and the two of you smiled at each other. The crowd did not stop their applause and their shouts for joy as Crue put one arm behind you while the other slid under your knees and carried you bridal style. You almost yelped at his sudden action but then laughed right after and placed a kiss on his cheek. He blushed a bit at the kiss and smiled at you as he walked down the aisle, headed to the exit. “Wait, wait,” you said just before Crue stepped outside. As you threw the bouquet up in the air the people huddled to catch it. Finally, someone got it and it was Ms. Dolores. You and Crue chuckled at the sight of Ms. Dolores jumping in joy as if her youth just returned. Meanwhile, Jonathan and Kennedy waved goodbye, along with everyone, as you rode in the white Panther De Ville.

“Beautiful,” Jonathan remarked as he followed the newly wedded couple with his eyes, “isn’t it, Kennedy?”

Crue’s assistant nodded and wiped a tear from his eyes. “Much better than 3D, sir.”

You and Crue waved goodbye to everyone through the open car window before the driver started the car to finally bring the two of you home.

~~~~

You reached for the knob and opened the door since Crue could not do it himself while carrying you. As soon as the door to your room flew open, Crue walked inside and put you down on the queen size bed the two of you will be sharing now that you were finally man and wife. You lay down and Crue hovered over you with his hands pressed on the bed. You wrapped your arms around his neck, lowering him a bit and nuzzled his nose, which made you both feel tickled and chuckle. When your laughter subsided, you looked into each other’s eyes and Crue caressed your cheek with the back of his hand that never failed to send chills down your spine. “Are you ready?” Crue asked in a whisper and his lips curled into a smirk. You simply nodded then chuckled. He slowly leaned in.

When your lips were about to touch, he fell off the bed with a thud as you whacked a pillow at him that you had been holding since he began closing the distance between you and him, finding it the perfect time to catch him off guard. “HA!” you exclaimed in triumph and leaned over to the side of the bed to see your fallen husband on the floor. “Gotcha,” you said with a victorious smirk across your face.

“Good one,” he groaned as he struggled to sit up.

“Never underestimate me, my dear husban--” You too flew to the other side of the bed as he struck back with a pillow you were not able to see coming.

He blew the top of the pillow as if it was a gun he just shot. “You were saying, darling?” His smirk returned as he stood up tall and proud.

You wasted no moment and threw a pillow back at him as soon as you stood up but he was quick to dodge it.

“HA-HA!” he exclaimed after successfully evading the attack but was later followed by another that he least expected. “Oof!” he uttered as he fell back down the floor.

Apparently, you had a lot of ammo under the bed. Both of you prepared so much for that moment. “Don’t you think you can outsmart me,” you said, putting your hands to your waist. When you got no response, you were alarmed so you rushed to the other side of the bed and knelt beside Crue who was not moving. “Crue?” You shook him. He was not answering. Fear took over you. “Crue!” You slapped his arm. “This isn’t funny!” you exclaimed in a serious tone, mixed with fear and anger. You yelped when you were suddenly pulled down to a hug.

“Mmmwah!” he imitated the sound of a kiss as he placed one on top of your head and laughed. “Scared you, didn’t I?”

You hit his chest so hard that he almost coughed. “Don’t do that again! That wasn’t funny!” you told him without looking at him, still angry that he used the same tactics again when he first won your pillow fight back then. You were not angry at the fact that it was not fair but you hated it when he would consider such things as a joke.

He released you and propped his head in his palm, looking down at you with a warm smile while you still refused to look at him. He lifted your chin with his fingers, lowering his head and gently pressed his lips on yours. When he pulled away, he smiled again and said, “Don’t worry. Like what I’ve always told you, it takes a lot more than whatever you can think of to get rid of me. And I got my kiss now so I’ve decided to just call it a truce. Fair enough?”

Even though that was not your first kiss, a blush still made its way to your cheeks. You wrapped your arms around him as the two of you still remained lying on the floor and rested your head on his chest. You just closed your eyes and nodded. “Yes.”

Crue lay his head back down and brought you closer to him. He chuckled. “Honey, the bed is over there.”

You knew where the bed was but you just found it oddly more comfortable on the floor. “I know.”

“So who won!!!???”

Crue chuckled. He then leaned in and whispered to the child’s ear, “Of course, I did.”

“Hey, I heard that,” you joined the conversation with your hands resting on your waist.

“Oopsies,” Crue said as he leaned back and grinned at you.

“Time for bed now, sweetheart,” you told your four-year-old son and carried him in your arms.

“But mom…” he tried to reason out.

“It’s getting late.” You tapped his nose which made him giggle.

Not a moment later, he yawned and answered sleepily, “Okay….”

Crue stood up and offered, “Let me carry him.”

~~~~

Once the little boy was finally in his room, sleeping soundly, you carefully closed the door and faced Crue. “You said it was a truce,” you told him, crossing your arms.

“Of course, it was!” he said in a whisper so he would not wake the kid up. “But, you know, how much the kid loved hearing it when I win.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re unbelievable, Crue.” You then headed to the opposite direction.

“Where are you going?” he asked then followed you.

You went out to the balcony and looked up at the starry nightsky. Later, arms wrapped around your waist. You looked over your shoulder and met your husband’s face, giving it a peck on the cheek. “So what shall we name her?”

“Her?” Crue was rather surprised at what he heard. He rubbed your tummy.

You nodded with a smile.

He smiled back and rested his chin on your shoulder, gently swaying you from left to right. “Hmmmm,” he said in thought. “How about we name her… (m/n)?”

Your expression softened at the mention of that name. “I think... that’s very lovely.”

He kissed your cheek and whispered to your ear, "I love you, (f/n)."

His words were like magic that even though he most probably said it more than a million times, it always sounded very new to you so your heart skipped a beat every time he would tell you those three precious words.

You leaned your head on his and put your palm on his cheek while the other held his hand that was on your tummy. "I love you too, Crue."

In a few months, you will be expecting another little one on the way.

Description
This is a bonus chapter for the Male!Cruella x Reader series but can be read as a one shot so if you are a new reader, you can read this chapter alone without reading the previous parts. But if you are interested to read the other parts, the links are in the description below

Listen to this first www.youtube.com/watch?v=KcdQk7…

b/n = best friend's name
f/n = first name
h/c = hair color
e/c = eye color
m/n = mother's name

Enjoy!

----
Knock! Knock! Knock!

Roger isolated himself in his room, humming along the rhythm he was making as his fingers danced on the piano keys. “Mmmhmmm-- OH!” With the slam of his hands on the piano, he stopped playing, annoyed with the continuous knocking on the door. “Who could that be at this hour of the day?” he mumbled as he stood to his feet with furrowed brows in irritation that he was interrupted in the midst of composing another song. He went to the foyer and looked for nanny and his wife, Anita, but neither of them were in sight. He assumed they were somewhere at the back of the house so he had no choice but to go to the door himself. Once he was in front of the door, he stopped with a gasp as soon as he saw the silhouette of the visitor behind the stained glass door.

“Roger, who is it?” someone unexpectedly asked that made Roger almost jump in fright.

He spun around wide-eyed, only to see Anita. “Oh thank God, Anita, it’s just you,” Roger said in relief, holding his chest as if protecting his pounding heart that might come out anytime.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Roger, open it--” When Anita was about to reach for the doorknob, Roger immediately gripped her wrists and pulled it towards him, surprising her with his unusual actions. “What is going on!?” she asked in shock.

“Er-- We are not expecting anyone,” Roger replied with a stern look on his face.

“Hello, is anyone home?” the visitor finally called in a rather piqued tone that he had been waiting outside for who knows how long.

Anita and Roger recognized that voice in an instant, confirming their guesses of their visitor’s identity. “Oh, come on, Roger. He’s no one dangerous,” Anita said with a sweet smile, almost going to let out a chuckle, thinking how ridiculous her husband was.

“But Anita!” Roger tried to reason out.

Anita put her hand on his chest reassuringly and said with her soft voice, “I can handle this.” Once she turned the knob, the door. as if on cue, burst open, slamming against the wall. There stood a man with a fur coat, making him look big and intimidating. His tallness did not help lessen his menacing aura. His arms were open as if proudly presenting himself and implying that you should be glad he ever graced you with his presence. That face that Roger always wanted to land a few jabs on, finally returned after a long time.

“You--!” Roger stomped his feet towards the man with the eccentric-looking hair that was black on one side and white on the other. He had his glares that had never been as deathly. If looks could kill, the man would not be standing there for long.

As he was about to charge, Anita wrapped her arms around Roger’s waist to stop him. A nervous chuckle escaped her lips before greeting their visitor, “Good day, Crue.” She leaned to the side a bit in order to have a better look at Crue while she was behind her husband, still trying to calm him down from throwing fits of anger.

“Let me go, Anita! He shouldn’t be here!” Roger struggled to free himself. He could have done that easily but it was his wife holding him and he did not want to hurt her or anything by forcing her arms to break their grasp. Finding it no use, he just crossed his arms over his chest still with an angered look on his face.

Crue chuckled at the sight of Roger trying to get to him. “Now, now, that isn’t how we treat a guest, is it?” he asked rhetorically that rather vexed Roger even more when he saw that smug smile he was wearing on his face.

“We already told you, they’re not for sale,” Roger said in a contained manner but his annoyance was clearly written on his face as day.

Crue laughed even louder at Roger’s remark and waved airily at him. “That isn’t what I came here for, Roger!” Without permission, he just walked inside and went straight to the couch, sitting crossed-legged.

Roger and Anita were obviously surprised at his actions. While Anita closed the door, Roger marched up to Crue and gave him those glare daggers of death. “We did not welcome you here.”

“Oh, but I believe your wife thinks otherwise, am I right, Anita?” He looked over his shoulder to see Anita with a rather astonished look as if she did not know how to react at the situation so she just weakly smiled.

Instead of answering Crue, she walked over to her husband’s side and rubbed his tense shoulders and asked Crue back with her ever gentle voice, “If you do not mind us asking, Crue--”

“Please leave at once--” Roger continued the sentence for her but was immediately cut off when he felt Anita’s palm slap his back and met her eyes only to see that ‘leave-the-talking-to-me’ look.

“Sorry, Roger hasn’t had breakfast yet,” Anita lied but just to avoid any further arguments.

“I see,” Crue muttered, raising a skeptical eyebrow at Roger but then his expression softened as he looked back at Anita. “Oh, I’m sure you are dying to know what I’m here for, right?” he drawled as he stood up and walked in a circle, starting from Roger’s side to Anita’s. They only followed him with their eyes until he draped his arm over Anita’s shoulder. “Well, darlings, good news for you, I’m not going to pester you with your little beasts.” He smirked at them. Roger could not possibly believe what he was saying because his face was saying otherwise.

“What are you here for then?” Roger flicked Crue’s arm away from Anita and pulled her to him in a tight hug.

Crue lowly chuckled. “Well, I’m--” The confidence in him suddenly drained. “How do I say this…?” He scratched his head, attempting to let the words out.

Roger and Anita was puzzled by Crue’s unusual behavior. He was always so sure what he wanted, be it what to say or what to do but this time, he showed the opposite and they witnessed yet another odd phenomenon. He was blushing. Roger released Anita from his hold and went to Crue, pointing a mocking forefinger at him. “Are you actually blushing?” His lips formed into an amused grin.

“Stop it, buffoon. I’m thinking!” Crue quickly rebutted.

Roger could not help it but burst into laughter that he was hugging his stomach in pain.

“Roger!” Anita tried to scold him but seeing how in deep shade of crimson Crue’s face was, she could not help but giggle as well.

“What are you imbeciles laughing at!? I’m serious here!” Crue could not accept the fact that he was being the laughing stock. “I--I’m getting married!” he finally blurted out and immediately crossed his arms, looking away from the couple with a piqued expression. “There! I said it.”

The laughter was cut off as soon as Crue said what seemed to be impossible. “Y-You’re…” Roger pointed his forefinger at him again but this time, it was rather weak, out of disbelief. “What?” he uttered in shock, putting his hand down.

“I’m getting married and you are invited!” Crue hated to repeat himself.

It did not take long before Anita clasped her hands with an astonished expression that melted into a dreamy look on her face and sighed, taking quick small steps to Crue and hugged him. “Ooohh congratulations, Crue!!!”

Roger’s eyes widened at the sight of Anita hugging another man, let alone Crue.

Anita pulled away with a grin on her face, her hands stayed on his shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I am so happy for you!”

“Yes, yes, we are,” Roger interrupted. “But we aren’t going.”

Crue still had a faint blush painted on his pale cheeks and his smile seemed rather sheepish, so not like him. “Why thank you, Anita,” he simply responded with a sweet smile, ignoring Roger. “Good thing you’re home so I don’t have to deal with your husband’s attitude,” he said and looked at Roger unamused then back at Anita with a smile. He took her hand and shook it. “I’ll be expecting the two of you.” He then reached into the pocket of his fur coat and took out two white scented envelopes that smelled of sweet strawberries. “The details are all here.” He gave them to Anita.

“Oh! What a lovely-looking invitation,” Anita commented as she took the envelopes.

Roger went to Anita’s side to have a look at the invitations as his curiosity kicked in.

“We will definitely come,” Anita told Crue.

“What!?” Roger blurted out in obvious astonishment.

Anita added, “Whoever that girl is, I’m sure she’ll--”

“Definitely have to start saying her prayers,” Roger said with his chin up and his eyes loosely closed, still refusing to entertain such requests or invitations from Crue.

“I won’t be taking no for answer,” Crue told the couple with his confidence all of a sudden restored. “That includes you, Roger. You’ll be the musician.” He went over to Roger’s side and held him by the shoulders. “You’ll be playing our pretty little love song,” Crue told him with a gesture of his red gloved hand in the air. “I can already imagine it!”

“Well, I can’t,” Roger said with a bored look on his face. “And I’m not interested.”

“Oh, come on, Roger!” Anita took his hand. “Since when did we last attend a wedding? Such events are just… wonderful. Don’t you remember the time ours took place?”

Roger’s tensed expression softened at the sweet memories of his own marriage and sighed. “I do, Anita, but--”

“Come now, Roger, darling,” she said, placing her palm on his cheek. “Weddings do not always happen, you know?” she added with a lower voice, just above a whisper, trying to persuade her husband. Crue might have done wrong things before but they were still friends after all.

After having a few debates with his own thoughts, he was finally convinced. “Fine.”

“Ah, great!” Crue exclaimed in joy and went between them, slinging his arms on each of their shoulders and tugged them closer to him. “I knew I could count on the Radcliffes! Anita, you’ll be the maid of honor.”

“Huh?” Anita was yet again shocked, putting her hand on her chest. “Me? But I do not even know who your wife-to-be is. She probably has her closest friend to be the maid of honor,” she replied. “And it’s matron of honor. I’m already married.”

“Closest friend?” Crue repeated as if the idea never occurred to him. “Well, I do know she has this one friend named (b/n), but I have no idea how to contact her.”

“Ask her then.” Roger rolled his eyes, implying that the answer to his problem was obvious.

Crue released them and walked in front of them, waving his hands dismissively. “No, no, no! I can’t do that! The surprise will be ruined!”

“Surprise…?” Anita and Roger said in unison.

“Yes,” Crue said proudly. “I have everything prepared and she doesn’t even know. I’m sure she’ll love it.” He chuckled at the thought of your shocked expression, one of the looks on your face that he always loved to see.

Anita shook her head and blinked. “Wait, what? She doesn’t know…? Let me get this straight. You’re getting married…”

“Mhm,” Crue casually responded.

“And… she doesn’t know?” Roger asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Mhm.”

“Oh, but, Crue,” Anita said hesitantly, careful not to offend Crue in any way. “That’s not how marriages work.”

Crue’s confidence again crumbled, turning to the two with shock in his face. “W-What do you mean?”

“You must propose,” Roger answered, still with a bored look on his face. “That will just freak her out! What if she’s not ready?”

“Ready for…?”

“Marriage life,” Anita added. “Crue, even though I haven’t talked to you for a very long time, I know, I can just feel that you are very much in love with her but then, marriage isn’t something only one of you plans out. You should ask her first and see if the both of you are ready.”

Crue looked away. “Oh… I… huh… why didn’t Jonathan ever mention that to me?” He rubbed his chin in deep thought. “Well, then!” He snapped his head back up and looked at them with determination. “The two of you must teach me how to propose at once!”

~~~~

“There…” Ms. Dolores said as she moved away a bit to check your overall appearance, satisfied with how you looked in your white off the shoulder wedding dress.

You were seated in front of the mirror but only when Ms. Dolores stepped away were you able to fully see yourself in such a lovely outfit, designed by none other but Crue himself. You slowly stood up in astonishment, your gaze never averted from your reflection in the mirror. You turned around to look at the back of the dress and saw that its train lying on the floor like milk turned into fabric. You walked a bit and you just could not stop yourself from looking at the tail of your dress in marvel as they flowed along with your movements. You turned to the mirror once more to have a good look at yourself. You sighed and then cupped your hands to your mouth, lowering your head.

“(f/n)?” Ms. Dolores asked, seeing you in a seemingly unpleasant state. She walked to you and put a hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay, dear?”

You took in a deep breath before looking back up, straightening your back as you showed a confident posture to Ms. Dolores but your eyes told her another story. Your eyes glimmered with the tears you were trying hard to hold back but your attempts failed as a drop fell down your cheek.

“Oh, (f/n).” Ms. Dolores took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the tears on your face. “What is wrong?” she asked worriedly.

Your lips managed to curl into a weak smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Dolores. I just can’t believe this is actually happening,” you told her and chuckled. You took both of her hands and squeezed them. “I’m getting married…” you stated the obvious. You could not believe that the day you were looking forward to had finally come. It was only like yesterday when Crue proposed when it was actually a few months ago.

Ms. Dolores just smiled warmly at you and tucked a lock of your (h/c) behind your ear. “Yes, you are.” She gently took her hands back and wrapped them around you in a warm embrace. “Now, don’t cry, okay? Or else we’ll have to redo your make up,” she said, of course, jokingly.

You just smiled at her humor and pulled away to look at her. “I won’t.” You brought your white gloved hand to your face and wiped a tear away with your forefinger.

A knock interrupted your conversation. Ms. Dolores immediately answered, “Come in!”

As soon as the door opened, Anita entered the room with her baby pink gown, holding a bouquet of flower. “Is she ready?” she asked in anticipation. When her eyes landed on you, her expression brightened. “Oh, you look great, (f/n)! Very lovely,” she commented as she made her way to you. You chose Anita to be the matron of honor since your best friend could not make it as she was also the maid of honor in one of her relatives’ wedding. She was invited way before you notified her of your own wedding. Anyway, you and Anita became pretty close while preparing for the wedding and thought it would be best if she became the matron of honor.

“Thank you, Anita,” you told her in a bit of a sheepish way.

“Here.” She handed you your bouquet. “We’ll be going out in a few minutes-- oh, where’s your veil?”

You turned around and grabbed your veil that was resting on the back of your seat. “Here.”

Anita took it from you and helped you wear it over your head. She moved away afterwards to have a better look at you. “I’m sure Crue won’t be able to take his eyes off of you,” she told you with a sweet smile. Ms. Dolores nodded in agreement.

You blushed at the thought of it. “Really? Well, I--” You turned bashful once more, sinking your head in between your raised shoulders. “Thank you….”

“Oh, that’s nothing, “Anita chuckled. She then looked at the time on her watch. “Okay, looks like it’s time.”

~~~~

The flower girls started to walk down the aisle and showered petals down the path. You took in a deep breath as it was going to be your turn next after they all proceeded inside. You could feel your knees shaking and your legs were about to give up on you. You were so nervous that fear and anxiousness mixed altogether, creating clouds of unpleasant thoughts in your head. Even you could not hear the piano playing as you were focused on how you would deal with your worries, not to mention, your father was still not present.

“Everything’s going to be okay, (f/n),” Anita told you reassuringly, sensing your intense nervousness. She was right behind you, holding the train of your silk dress.

You looked over your shoulder and saw her smiling sweetly at you. You then returned the smile but yours was rather nervous and shaky. The flower girls and the ring bearer had successfully made their entry. Now, it was your turn. You took a few steps before turning to face the open doors of the church, the aisle right before you.

“I’m here, I’m here!” Your father quickly got out of the cab and ran to you in his tuxedo.

“Father!” you said almost in a whisper. You had no time to have a little chat so you just locked your arm with his, smiling down at him, glad that he was able to make it. You were rather disappointed that he was late but the feeling vanished almost immediately. It did not matter anymore.

At the far end, by the altar, there you saw your groom in a black tuxedo, something you did not see him wear very often. How you wish your mind was not so much filled with how gorgeous your husband-to-be was. You shook your head a bit as you caught yourself yet in another daydream and started walking down the aisle. You stopped as the music changed into something surprisingly odd for a song while the bride walked down the aisle, making everyone, including you, whip their heads to the pianist, who was apparently Roger. Crue was giving him the deathly glares as he played the tune of the song, ‘Crue De Vil’, and mouthed, “Really!?” Roger seemed to sense the enormous amount of stares he was being given as he turned his head and confirmed his suspicions with a wide-eyed expression. The pressing of the piano keys slowed down until he fully stopped and nervously chuckled. He then cleared his throat, cracking his knuckles and played the right song at last. Everyone’s tensed expressions finally softened and a smile made its way to your face as you continued walking to the altar with your father right by your side.

Later, you heard soft sniffles and turned your head to the side. “Father?” you whispered with a slight surprise on your face. The little man was crying but he was fighting it.

“I’m okay, (f/n),” he answered without turning his gaze away from the altar, trying to maintain a confident expression. “I’m okay.”

You just smiled and looked back at the altar, actually, more like at your groom. But then another sight surprised you as your eyes landed on the man standing right beside him, a man with hair blacker than his tuxedo, his hands clasped in front of him. He gave you one of those charming smiles he always possessed that revealed a dimple on each of his cheeks as your eyes met. Crue never mentioned to you that his best man would be none other than Frank Daniels. You returned the smile afterwards and then not a moment later, your eyes went back to Crue. He always had that magnetic effect on him that brought your eyes back to where they belonged… to him.

When you and your father reached the altar, Anita walked to the other side and stood with the flower girls and bridesmaids. Your father, on the other hand, could no longer contain the tears that he had been choking back ever since you began walking down the aisle and finally cried, wrapping his hands around your waist and squeezed you.

His actions, of course, surprised you at first but later, you hugged back, patting him on the back and smiled down at him before releasing you to take Crue’s hand. Your eyes widened when two hands were extended to you, one belonged to Crue while the other belonged to… Frank.

The corners of Crue’s lips twitched as he gave Frank fiery glares. “Mine,” he muttered while his teeth were gritted.

Frank gave him a stern look and took your hand, making you gasp and rather bewildered as your eyes shifted from Crue to Frank. “Too late,” Frank simply replied. You were mentally panicking, desperately trying to think of ways to stop them two of them from possibly starting a brawl. Later, Frank placed your hand in Crue’s and gently held them together. He chuckled and gave Crue a pat. “Chill, brother. Congratulations.”

Crue’s eyes widened and a faint pinkish blush was on his cheeks from embarrassment. It was true that Frank and him were once rivals but they unexpectedly became friends after some years later and that was why Frank was there as the best man. You could have laughed at the expressions on their faces if only you were not in such a formal event. Frank also gave you a pat and smiled sweetly at you just before you and Crue sat in front of the altar. The officiant began performing the wedding ceremony. Your hand was still in Crue’s and he grazed the back of your hand with his thumb then gave it a gentle squeeze. You could not help but smile at such gesture from him. You would take a few glances at him and see how bored he became each minute that passed. “Ugh… how long is this going to take?” he muttered to no one in particular.

Able to hear what he just said, you giggled. You leaned a bit towards him without taking your eyes off of the officiant and whispered, “Just a bit more.”

He sighed. “Remind me to never get married again,” he mumbled in obvious impatience.

Your eyebrows furrowed at what he just said and slowly turned your head to him, giving him your own version of deathly glares, so intense that even he felt it so he turned his head to you and he was obviously taken by surprise with how you looked at him as his eyes widened and gave you a weirded out look. “What are you trying to say?” you whispered threateningly and leaned in dangerously closer.

He then just realized how wrong his statement just sounded. He leaned in closer as well and he answered softly, “No, no, darling. That’s not what I meant--”

The officiant cleared his throat, startling the both of you and made you sit back up straight. The two of you simply giggled, thinking how ridiculous you must have looked, having your own conversation while the officiant was talking. You then let go of the thought and focused on the officiant’s words. Finally, the two of you stood up, facing each other as you were about to say each of your vows. “Do you, Crue, take (f/n) to be your wedded wife, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and in disappointment, to love her faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?”

Crue’s icy blue eyes met your (e/c) ones as you held hands. “I do,” he said with a warm smile on his face.

“Do you, (f/n), take Crue to be your wedded husband, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and in disappointment, to love him faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?”

Without any second thoughts, you were very sure that the man standing right in front of you was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. “I do.”

“I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may now--”

Not waiting for the officiant to even finish his sentence, Crue quickly unveiled you and cupped his hands on your cheeks, bringing his lips to yours.

“...Kiss the bride,” the officiant continued anyway.

Everyone cheered and clapped while the two of you shared a sweet kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck. When Crue pulled away, he pressed his forehead on yours and the two of you smiled at each other. The crowd did not stop their applause and their shouts for joy as Crue put one arm behind you while the other slid under your knees and carried you bridal style. You almost yelped at his sudden action but then laughed right after and placed a kiss on his cheek. He blushed a bit at the kiss and smiled at you as he walked down the aisle, headed to the exit. “Wait, wait,” you said just before Crue stepped outside. As you threw the bouquet up in the air the people huddled to catch it. Finally, someone got it and it was Ms. Dolores. You and Crue chuckled at the sight of Ms. Dolores jumping in joy as if her youth just returned. Meanwhile, Jonathan and Kennedy waved goodbye, along with everyone, as you rode in the white Panther De Ville.

“Beautiful,” Jonathan remarked as he followed the newly wedded couple with his eyes, “isn’t it, Kennedy?”

Crue’s assistant nodded and wiped a tear from his eyes. “Much better than 3D, sir.”

You and Crue waved goodbye to everyone through the open car window before the driver started the car to finally bring the two of you home.

~~~~

You reached for the knob and opened the door since Crue could not do it himself while carrying you. As soon as the door to your room flew open, Crue walked inside and put you down on the queen size bed the two of you will be sharing now that you were finally man and wife. You lay down and Crue hovered over you with his hands pressed on the bed. You wrapped your arms around his neck, lowering him a bit and nuzzled his nose, which made you both feel tickled and chuckle. When your laughter subsided, you looked into each other’s eyes and Crue caressed your cheek with the back of his hand that never failed to send chills down your spine. “Are you ready?” Crue asked in a whisper and his lips curled into a smirk. You simply nodded then chuckled. He slowly leaned in.

When your lips were about to touch, he fell off the bed with a thud as you whacked a pillow at him that you had been holding since he began closing the distance between you and him, finding it the perfect time to catch him off guard. “HA!” you exclaimed in triumph and leaned over to the side of the bed to see your fallen husband on the floor. “Gotcha,” you said with a victorious smirk across your face.

“Good one,” he groaned as he struggled to sit up.

“Never underestimate me, my dear husban--” You too flew to the other side of the bed as he struck back with a pillow you were not able to see coming.

He blew the top of the pillow as if it was a gun he just shot. “You were saying, darling?” His smirk returned as he stood up tall and proud.

You wasted no moment and threw a pillow back at him as soon as you stood up but he was quick to dodge it.

“HA-HA!” he exclaimed after successfully evading the attack but was later followed by another that he least expected. “Oof!” he uttered as he fell back down the floor.

Apparently, you had a lot of ammo under the bed. Both of you prepared so much for that moment. “Don’t you think you can outsmart me,” you said, putting your hands to your waist. When you got no response, you were alarmed so you rushed to the other side of the bed and knelt beside Crue who was not moving. “Crue?” You shook him. He was not answering. Fear took over you. “Crue!” You slapped his arm. “This isn’t funny!” you exclaimed in a serious tone, mixed with fear and anger. You yelped when you were suddenly pulled down to a hug.

“Mmmwah!” he imitated the sound of a kiss as he placed one on top of your head and laughed. “Scared you, didn’t I?”

You hit his chest so hard that he almost coughed. “Don’t do that again! That wasn’t funny!” you told him without looking at him, still angry that he used the same tactics again when he first won your pillow fight back then. You were not angry at the fact that it was not fair but you hated it when he would consider such things as a joke.

He released you and propped his head in his palm, looking down at you with a warm smile while you still refused to look at him. He lifted your chin with his fingers, lowering his head and gently pressed his lips on yours. When he pulled away, he smiled again and said, “Don’t worry. Like what I’ve always told you, it takes a lot more than whatever you can think of to get rid of me. And I got my kiss now so I’ve decided to just call it a truce. Fair enough?”

Even though that was not your first kiss, a blush still made its way to your cheeks. You wrapped your arms around him as the two of you still remained lying on the floor and rested your head on his chest. You just closed your eyes and nodded. “Yes.”

Crue lay his head back down and brought you closer to him. He chuckled. “Honey, the bed is over there.”

You knew where the bed was but you just found it oddly more comfortable on the floor. “I know.”

“So who won!!!???”

Crue chuckled. He then leaned in and whispered to the child’s ear, “Of course, I did.”

“Hey, I heard that,” you joined the conversation with your hands resting on your waist.

“Oopsies,” Crue said as he leaned back and grinned at you.

“Time for bed now, sweetheart,” you told your four-year-old son and carried him in your arms.

“But mom…” he tried to reason out.

“It’s getting late.” You tapped his nose which made him giggle.

Not a moment later, he yawned and answered sleepily, “Okay….”

Crue stood up and offered, “Let me carry him.”

~~~~

Once the little boy was finally in his room, sleeping soundly, you carefully closed the door and faced Crue. “You said it was a truce,” you told him, crossing your arms.

“Of course, it was!” he said in a whisper so he would not wake the kid up. “But, you know, how much the kid loved hearing it when I win.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re unbelievable, Crue.” You then headed to the opposite direction.

“Where are you going?” he asked then followed you.

You went out to the balcony and looked up at the starry nightsky. Later, arms wrapped around your waist. You looked over your shoulder and met your husband’s face, giving it a peck on the cheek. “So what shall we name her?”

“Her?” Crue was rather surprised at what he heard. He rubbed your tummy.

You nodded with a smile.

He smiled back and rested his chin on your shoulder, gently swaying you from left to right. “Hmmmm,” he said in thought. “How about we name her… (m/n)?”

Your expression softened at the mention of that name. “I think... that’s very lovely.”

He kissed your cheek and whispered to your ear, "I love you, (f/n)."

His words were like magic that even though he most probably said it more than a million times, it always sounded very new to you so your heart skipped a beat every time he would tell you those three precious words.

You leaned your head on his and put your palm on his cheek while the other held his hand that was on your tummy. "I love you too, Crue."

In a few months, you will be expecting another little one on the way.