The Housewardens Crushing On You

the housewardens crushing on you

characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus notes: gn! reader, descriptions + mentions of food/eating, Idia’s takes direct inspo from the vignette “that party animal from class” other crushes: first years

riddle rosehearts

Bless him, Riddle is so high-strung around you. He just wants to give off the impression of being someone who is refined, dependable, and put-together, which he is under normal circumstances. But with a crush on you, he’s constantly caught off-guard by your praise and compliments and seems to permanently have a red face.

“Are you sure all the roses are red, Trey?” Riddle asked, eyes sweeping the garden for what felt like the hundredth time. And, for the hundredth time, Trey assured him that yes, the roses were red; the mouse in the teapot had a smear of jam on its nose; and, per rule 228, as it was Wednesday, no one picked any flowers.

“Why’s the housewarden so tense today?” Riddle heard one Heartslabyul student ask. His friend responded, “I don’t know, it’s just another Unbirthday party.”

Riddle huffed, the urge to collar them growing, though he refrained. It wasn’t just another Unbirthday party, it was the one he personally invited you to, so it had to be perfect—or at least close to that.  

Trey placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It looks great, Riddle. This could be the best Unbirthday party that we’ve put on.”

Riddle nodded, silent, still examining the area for anything out of place. Then, he heard Cater’s loud voice, followed by Deuce and Ace’s, and then yours. He straightened and brushed down his uniform just as you entered the garden.

“Merry Unbirthday!” Trey cheered, prompting the other Heartslabyul students to follow suit.

You laughed, “Thanks! This all looks great!”

“Riddle did most of it,” Trey said. “He picked out the tea and pastries and everything.”

Riddle shot a glare at Trey, who just smiled and winked back at him. With a rapidly reddening face, Riddle motioned gracefully to the table at the center of the celebration. “The guest of honor sits there.”

“Aww, this is so awesome, Riddle!” you said as he led you, pulling the chair out for you.

“Thank you. I wanted you to have the merriest Unbirthday.”

“Well, this certainly looks very merry,” you said. “Can I try one?” You pointed at the cookies neatly piled on the tiered tower.

When he nodded, you added, “Actually? Can you pick one out for me?”

“Me?” he asked, his collar feeling too tight and too hot all of a sudden. When you gave an affirmative hum, he paused and thought hard. You often stayed away from super sweet treats and he had seen you go for the carrot cake as your after-dinner dessert… Riddle pulled out one of the spice cookies, holding it out to you.

Cookie still in Riddle’s hand, you leaned forward to take a small bite, flavors bursting immediately. You savored the slight heat of the cookie and enjoyed the way the flavors made you think of autumn. “That’s delicious!” you said. “Did Trey make these?”

Riddle looked away from you to try and hide his blush. “I did, actually… with Trey’s help.”

“Incredible,” you said. You waited until he faced you and said, “I want to thank you for this again. I don’t think anyone’s ever done anything this nice for me before.”

Riddle’s face went bright red.

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++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

[summary] wrio’s spouse winds up in prison. special treatment ensues.

[cws] gender neutral reader. fluff.

“What you did was incredibly stupid.”

“I’d like to think it was very brave, actually.” You quip back, lips pursed as you turn up your chin. “You should be proud of me, really.”

“I should be proud that you got yourself thrown in prison?” You don’t have to look up to know that Wriothesley is sporting an incredulous expression. “Did they knock your head around a bit before bringing you down here?”

“You’re acting like I murdered someone.” You finally meet his gaze, and you resist the urge to sink down into your seat at the clear disapproval in his eyes. “All I did was—”

“Break into the Opera Epiclese and destroy government property.”

“That’s such a trumped-up charge!” You huff and roughly cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you think back on the charges that had been slapped down onto you by that damned archon. “You trip in the dark and accidentally fall into the oratrice and all of a sudden you’re a criminal. Hmph!”

“Yeah, exactly. It also doesn’t help that you broke in—”

“—I left my bracelet in there after the trial! Was I just supposed to leave it behind and potentially lose it forever? The condition of the lost and found in that place is downright terrible—the guards pocket all the good stuff.”

“You could have bought another one.”

“Not like this one.” You look down to the gray bracelet encircling your wrist, and a warmth spreads in your chest as you gently twist it around, finger rubbing over the messily written engraving on the inside of it. “This was a gift.”

“Hardly.” He sighs, and your eyes flick up to watch as he runs his hands through his already messy hair. “It’s just scrap metal I bent up and welded because I couldn’t buy you proper jewelry back when I was a prisoner.” It’s his turn to look at the bracelet.

“You were so creative back then.” You smile a bit wider. “I remember you used to have something new made every time I came to visit you. What was that one thing you made? The one that we painted together?”

“The ballerina music box.” He groaned, looking a bit embarrassed, and you snapped your fingers.

“The ballerina music box!” The ballerina was a bit oddly shaped, and the box had sharp corners on one side and rounded on the other, and the song the box played was distorted and sounded more creepy than relaxing due to some disfigured cogs, but you loved it nonetheless, and had even sobbed in thanks when he had first presented the gift to you. “I love that little box.”

“It looks like a child made it.”

“A child in the throes of eleazar, yes,” you nod, and his mouth opens a bit in surprise before he huffs out a laugh. “But I still love it… because you made it.” You give him a sweet smile, and you can see him soften up before your very own eyes; broad shoulders losing that rigidness, lids lowering, crease between his dark, thick brows disappearing.

“You’re tryin’ to butter me up.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “Is it working?”

“Not at all, jailbird.” He gives you a smile of his own, and despite the clear sarcasm in it, you can’t help the little flutter your heart does at the sight. “No special treatment for you.” So he says, yet he had placed a cup of tea down for you the moment you were brought to his office, and had even tried to inconspicuously nudge the basket of cookies in your direction, pretending not to notice when you reached for one. “Spouse or not.”

“What a mean man.” You slouch down in your seat. “I treasure the gifts that my lovely, amazing, strong, handsome, and so so so incredibly smart husband gives me and what do I get in return? A criminal record and unfair treatment! I’m suing the entire nation the moment I’m free!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand in the air as if fanning away the conversation, and now it’s your turn to huff. “For the few days that you’re here, you’ll be working directly with me in exchange for coupons.” He takes a slow sip of his tea, adams apple bobbing as he swallows, before gently setting the cup back down onto its small plate. “I’ll make your first job real easy to get you in the swing of things.”

“How kind of you.”

He just barely contains an amused smile. “Very. Now…” He shifts in his seat. “Give me a kiss.”

“I’m married, Your Grace.”

“I’m sure your husband won’t mind. Kiss. Now.” He taps a finger against his lips, and after a moment you stand up and round his desk, hands finding his shoulders as you bend at the waist so your noses brush.

“My husband is a very good fighter, by the way. When he finds out you twisted his spouses’s arm like this, he’ll pummel you.”

“I can handle him.” A hand snags you by the waist, forcing you down into his lap, and you only have time to let out a quiet yelp before Wriothesley’s lips are on yours. The kiss is slow, sensual, and it brings a warmth to your cheeks and covers you with a bashful cloak when he pulls back to let his eyes roam over your face. “I’ve gotta say… your husband is a real lucky guy to snatch up someone as cute as you.”

“Hmph. Seems like you’re trying to butter me up now.”

“Is it working?” He presses his face into your neck, his lips pulling into a smile against your skin, and you have to fight back one of your own.

“Not at all, jailbird.”

When You Have An Secret Admirer - And Everybody Thinks It's Them (1; Heartslabyul)

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that 'secret admirer' - everyone wants to help you out...but have their own reason for it. Yet now, it seems like there are quite a few misunderstandings on campus...and everyone thinks they have finally found that secret admirer.

Spin-off of the first 'secert admirer' series + form of headcanons

note: reader is gender-neutral but mostly mentioned in 2. pov; a series of everyone being mistaken for the secret admirer. headcanon will follow each char. own thoughts on the situation.]

"Hey...you think he could be the famous admirer of the Ramshakle prefect?"

Ace Trappola

The first time Ace has heard of such whispers was when he was with you out in the hallways.

Students on the other side whispering amongst themselves, a clique subtly pointing at him...and eavesdropping on their suspicions...

"...You guys think its Trappola? He's always hanging around with the prefect ever since day one..."

Man, Ace was so close to spitting out his drink.

Did he just hear this right? Wait, wait, whoa, whoa, wait! He...didn't hear that just now, did he?

"Yeah, can't be anyone else. Have you seen how he looks at them?"

Oh no, he did right.

...Ha! Haha! Seriosuly? No way, does just...everyone in campus believe such crap? Haha, it can't be...

Though he tries to brush it all off, Ace quickly ushered you away from the hallways and anywhere where there wasn't a single soul. He couldn't bare to hear more.

But, seriously? Nah. No, no, no waaaay could...could Ace pull such cringy, gushy stuff. No one could seriously think he would even write a love letter, right?

Pfff, no. Ace isn't the type to even be capable of getting some notes for alchemy class right, or, or to get some flyin' mirror from somewhere, let alone steal roses from his own dorm. Have you seen how angry Riddle gets?

Totally in denial. Well, he is not that oh-so-great secret admiiiireeer, so what is there to deny? Nothing, that's what!

There are certainly a bunch of students that doubt he would and could do that...but others only believe it more.

The trickster Trappola. Your best friend who always looks out for you, always sticks with you even if he gets himself in trouble and seems to always look at you a certain way...

After all, guys tease those they like, right?

The whsipers get louder and louder throughout the week and Ace is visibly getting uneasy. You note and tell him how more fidgety and sweaty he seems recently but he brushes it all off with a scoff and a joke as usual.

He tried to think of a way to end this gossip...or at least escape it. But Ace will not ever think of avoiding you just for some stupid rumors. He is your friend, your best friend and he isn't gonna be a chicken and disappear into thin air just some idiots cannot tell the obvious - that Ace just isn't that romantic.

Would you like him to be more romantic...?

Alas, one day in the dorm, a few students approach him and directly ask him if he is the admirer. They may not have evidence but considering how the ace of hearts hangs around you like a leech, there is no other way that he doesn't like you.

Ace cracks an nervous grin and shrugs it all off despite pearls of sweat running down his face and tainting his jacket. Pff, whuat? Crazy such a claim, crazy he says! How deeply wounded he is by this suspicion!

Ace is honest and says, hey, he ain't the admirer. He ain't the romantic type either, he's just looking out for you, you know? Like the good classmate that he is.

A few believe that he is incapable of doing such acts and that it wouldn't fit his character at all. Though, that does not deter many to think that he does hold some feelings for you with how he is acting...

It just makes him more nervous.

Deuce Spade

Deuce coughed and cleared his throat the first time he heard such rumors at his club. Jack offered him water.

H-H-H-Huh??? WH-Wh-What, him? Him, Deuce Spade being your secret admirer?! Why would anyone think that?!

Genuinely baffled and surprised at this conclusion a few of his classmates came up with. How could he, Deuce, ever...be considered something close to a secret admirer?

But once he hears a few 'theories' his face is blooming a bright and deep red.

Constantly at your side? Protecting you in the smallest of ways like a hero? Giddy like a kid in a candy store when he gets praise from you? The thought of an ex-delinquent protecting and caring for someone being the ultimate proof that he is in love?!

L-L-L-Love?

H-Hold up! That can't be right! Deuce cares for you and you are his bestie but...! It isn't, it can't be...!

Too dumbfounded and embarrassed to do anything in the beginning. The thoughts and rumors of him even having feelings for you and people believing him to have done the things the admirer did, are constantly swirling in his mind. Day and night.

It's all getting too much...until only a handful of people approach him and ask.

Others back up in fear. "Hey, man, watch out! If you say anything wrong about his partner, the delinquent guy will beat you black and blue!"

WHAT

DELINQUENT GUY? P-P-PARTNER?!

Well, they are right, if someone were to hurt you, he would beat them up.

BUT ITS NOT ABOUT THAT RIGHT NOW.

With the biggest blush on his face and back straight as a candle, Deuce seems like an upright, studious boy who loudly corrects them, saying it's all not true! Y-You are just his best f-friend!

The gossip affects him so much that he comes running to you, lips in a nervous but tight line, eyes as big as a deers and face blooming like a rose.

"I AM NOT YOUR SECRET ADMIRER!"

Unwittingly he blurts out but softly tells you of the rumors right after. He just doesn't want there to be a misunderstanding.

He fiddles with his fingers, quietly continuing; "Because, uhm...if I did like you like that...I'd be more direct with you than that admirer could ever be."

Cater Diamond

Eh, what? Cater? And being a secret admirer?

Hah! That is almost cute and flattering! But, uh...well, a bit embarrassing, too...

Some argue of how he always calls you 'cute' or wants to take selfies with you...but he does so with everyone.

Yet Cater has a tendency to call you his 'favorite, cute juniour' just like Trey.

Cater is one actually able to laugh it all off genuinely - but at the same time he does not deny any of these claims. Yeah, you are super cute and have they seen these pics? They must have with how many hearts they got on Magicam~

He isn't gonna go around telling people that he fancies you but he is sure to casually tell them, no, he isn't the admirer. Very flattering (and bold) that you assume that though!

Will straight up go to you and say the obvious. He is not, in fact, your dear, darling admirer but that doesn't mean he doesn't admire you at all~

Trey Clover

Uhm???

Trey laughed sheepishly, hiding his blush under his hat.

This isn't...That's not right!

Everytime he'd hear a whisper, he unwittingly gets nervous. The thought of him doing the admirer's deeds...and even worse, people believing him to be them!

It's stress and drama he didn't ask for.

Although it is kinda a nice thought...while the actions of the admirer, the gifts and confessions of love are too embarassing for Trey, the thought of him making you fluster and blush is nice...

Very nice.

With a sigh, he shakes the thought of. He isn't them. No matter how much he wishes he was.

So with a sheepish grin and a bit of a stutter he clears his name. Riddle would have his head if he did any of these things!

With a ruffle of your hair he confesses. Don't worry, he isn't lovesick. He just likes you normally.

Riddle Rosehearts

SPITS OUT HIS TEA

Excuse him?! What did he just hear?! Doesn't matter if it was not meant for him to hear, off with your head! ITS OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!

So...absurd! There's no way such gossip is being spread in his dorm, is it?! Riddle already once had an awful reputation. There's no need for one made out of lies!

...Even if the image of him writing love letters and handing you gifts does fit him...Riddle would never steal from his own dorm!

He would never cause such a wreck as that "secret admirer" has. It's insulting to compare Riddle to them, lest even think he IS them!

Though he hears of the rumors, no one has the gall to approach him. That doesn't stop his anger as he gets more and more agitated everytime he even hears your name slip off someone's lips.

"The Housewarden totally favors them, after all..."

"He invites them to Unbirthday parties all the time."

"And acts like a gentleman then!"

Red, red, red. Riddle's face blooms in a deep crimson but it isn't blood rushing to his head in anger, it is a blush of embarassment.

Each one of them is right.

He cannot take his feelings being dangled in front of his face like that. It's all so, so true but he shall never admit it.

Riddle will have to clear his name it seems for all of this to stop.

It's difficult - not many believe him considering how agitated he becomes at the topic, at the mention of you.

Yet he managed to calm the crowd...all there was left was to tell you the truth as well.

"Im sure youve heard of it," he began dryly even as he tried to hide his blush. "But you know me and I would never callously break the rules like that just to...confess. No."

He then turned to you, his voice firmer and eyes softer. "If I wanted to court you, I'd do it in a way you deserve."

Some Fatui Harbingers!

⏰ Oopsie, You ran out of time

Part two of my two part comic where Jax bakes you an apology cake

(btw to anyone interested I’m posting a more angst riddled comic add on right after this)

credit to @/impishjesters for the inspiration for this comic 💖💖💖

patching up

a/n: i think ik who my newest obsession is, gl on his banner!!

sigwinne sincerely has positive adjectives that she could use to describe the duke.

but at the moment, she’s certain that she certainly has more less than pleasant words in mind.

“your grace, please let me see your injury.”

incorrigible, aggravating, distressing, burdensome, enraging, stubborn-

“i’m fine, it's just a scratch”

a brat.

she’s really not sure how much longer she could keep her sanity with how headstrong wriothesley currently is, dismissing the very obvious gash on his chest accompanied with the VERY obvious pool of red staining his dark shirt around it. all she had wanted was to patch up the scratch so that it would not become infected - he should be grateful that she hadn't planned to mix up a new concoction for him to drink.

“sigwinne? is there something wrong?” your voice echos off the chambers of the hall, perking up both of their attentions. ah, she’s thought of a new idea. her eyes bore into his, reaching to be able to whisper in his ear.

“you know, i recently had an interesting conversation with her recently.” she knows the duke is interested in her next words. “she told me that she’s always wanted a man who is strong enough to carry her on her wedding day in her wedding dress.” she pulls back to see if the pieces of the puzzle clicked in his brain, yet the only thing she received is a slightly interested yet confused expression staring back at her. her eye twitches.

“ well, that means she's definitely looking at a certain prospect for her future lover, correct?” his eyes widen in realization. bingo.

“sigwinne? and your grace? what's wrong?” you finally appear at the door of the infirmary, your heels clanking against the metal floor as you descend the stairs.

“oh nothing much~” sigwinne replies, “just patching up this small scratch his grace sustained.” she grins in victory when she noticed wriothesley peel off the layers on his torso, leaving his chest bare and the gash finally accessible to treat. sigwinne can feel the heart jump out of wriothesley’s chest when your eyes sweep over to his form, and finally rest your stare dead on his chest (it's really just looking at the terrible wound but she supposes a man can dream).

“would you like to practice your skills on patching wounds? i'm sure his grace would not mind.”

“oh, if it is alright with him i suppose i would like to try.”

“mmh” wriothesley feels a little pathetic when he can't muster more than an affirmative nod, lest he shows he's desperate for you to be closer in proximity to him. how could he pass up this opportunity?

you beam at him, slightly bowing in gratitude before reaching for materials to work with. sigwinne skips to her desk, eager to observe from the side how much the duke is able to hold in. she observes how the duke shivers when your cold fingers press against his skin to observe the scratch, how his pale eyes trace your every movement and rests on your face more often than not, how he lightly moves to press himself closer to your hands whenever he could.

if she didn't know better, it looked as if the duke of the meropide fortress became a dog, chasing for the attention of its owner. oh how she can't wait to experiment more of how the duke completely melts around your presence, hopelessly pining for someone he believes wouldn't love a man like him, even though she can clearly see traces of pink tint your ears, hiding behind tuffs of hair.