#lauriewritings

[laurielaureen]

Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

You hear the door close softly and footsteps walk around the room. There's the sound of clothes rustling, the cabinet creaking, and the bathroom door opening. When the showers turn on, you peek with one eye before fully opening them. 

The room is still dark, save for the light filtering through the bathroom door and the moonlight from the windows. As quietly as you can, you shift your position into something more comfortable but believable enough to be a natural sleeping position. When you scan the room, you see Riddle's pins already displayed on the vanity and his boots placed beside your loafers. There's also his bag, just beside your own, which makes you feel warm and giddy, a small smile making your way across your face. You look back to see your desk and feel even warmer as his magic pen is sitting in the same container where you place your own. 

When you hear the shower screen slide open, you school your expression into something neutral, a hint of relaxed and sleepy, before closing your eyes and letting your body go limp. You wait, breathing slow and shallow, as if you're truly sleeping. 

Breath in, breath out.

You keep your breaths even, completely halting all other movements of your body besides that. Then, the bathroom door opens and footsteps shuffle quietly. You hear more movements, the familiar rhythm of Riddle's night routine and preparations for tomorrow morning a nice background noise.

When Riddle finally approaches the bed, you were halfway near to sleepiness as you feel his side dip from behind you and the covers lifting before a hand slides from the exposed skin on your waist, your skin slightly shivering but hardly disturbed at the cold sensation.

"Why are you pretending to sleep, hm?" Riddle murmurs on your exposed shoulder. 

Oops.

Having your cover blown, you open your eyes and turn around to face your sweetheart. Your hand traces Riddle's arm that is wrapped on waist, slowly caressing his skin with the back of your fingers from his wrist up across his shoulder, savoring the pleasant feel of his cool and clean skin. 

Ending your little trip, your hand tucks Riddle's hair behind his ear and you cup his jaw lightly.

Sensing your intent, Riddle moves down to meet your lips halfway for a sweet short kiss. "Hi." You whisper shyly. 

"Hello." Riddle greets back, voice low. His hand brushes the stray strands on your face, neatly gathering the hair that's stuck between your head and bed. You let him fuss over your hair, your eyes closing and head burrowing to his chest, giving Riddle easier access as his fingers thread repeatedly through you hair.

"You still haven't answered my question." His tone patient. You hum, giggling lightly as he pass by a ticklish area behind your neck. You reply, "I don't know, actually." 

You pry Riddle's hands away from your head and directing them lower down to your back. You shift, raising your sleepshirt just below your chest. You move back, just enough to see Riddle as you request, "Do my back, please." 

Riddle complies, his fingers tracing across your back. His blunt fingernails trail a firm line in the middle, dragging till the end of spine before moving to your hips, your side, and going upwards just beneath your chest. You shiver, tensing and relaxing at his ministrations. 

"Is it hard to fall asleep without my assistance?" Riddle asks, the genuine tone of worry making your heart leap. 

Your eyes flutter as Riddle teases your side. "A little bit, but I can manage." 

"Did I make you wait?" 

"No." You mumble. You add, "It's a habit." 

Riddle stills. "Waiting for me?" 

You open one eye to peek at him. "Partially. I meant the pretending to sleep thing." 

"A-ah." Riddle resumes. His hands are spread wide across your back and they drag down, with his nails denting your skin in a delicious friction, making your back arch to the sensation. 

You sigh, a low and soft sound, as you wrap your hands around Riddle's neck, pushing him down until you're settled on top of his chest comfortably. "I still wait for you even if you don't ask me. I love you very much."

Riddle turns a lovely shade of red, and you indulge yourself by caressing his cheeks and neck. He tilts his head, leaning to your touch. "I love you too." 

You coo at him, melting at his words.

"You mention it's a habit. Care to explain how it happens?"

You trace mindlessly at his collarbone, your feet tangling with his own. "Mostly I pretend around my mama. I don't stick to bedtime much, and she usually checks if I'm sleeping already. Sometimes, I still do it even if it's not her. I do it to anyone to be honest, especially if they're..." You trail off, deliberating if you should voice it out or leave it. Riddle stays quiet, his hands hardly pausing from your back. There's no expectation on his end, just patience, so you continue, voice softer. "If they're someone who would fuss about my well-being or sleep schedule."

Riddle's expression twitches minutely, but his gaze is even. He licks his lips, tone measured. "Do I hover over you?"

"Not more than you usually do. But, I wouldn't call it hovering. More like looking out for me."

"It doesn't bother you?" Riddle asks, a hint of fear evident.

"Hardly." You murmur, raising your body to come face to face with Riddle. Gently, you cup his face with your hands, brushing his cheek with the pads of your fingers, the touch light and repeating. "I've always liked how you take care of me." You whisper, like saying a secret only meant for Riddle to hear. "Ever since you started sleeping here, my to-do list is always placed at my vanity, reminding me what things I need to bring and do." 

"You know you started it, right? I never had physical to-do lists before until you placed that stack of sticky notes with my duties and chores. Even though you knew I have my notes app, you saw I don't really check it as much as I usually do compared to the sticky notes." 

It wasn't a quick fix getting you to form the habit of listing your worklist in one medium and remembering to lay it out on it's designated place every evening. From time to time, Riddle had to fill in on some of the missing details, and he had to repeatedly place the list on the vanity. He even gave fun incentives, like placing small candies or cute doodles to really entice you into participating.

It took you one random night after seeing a video about conditioning and Cater pointing out your list to realize what Riddle had done. 

You felt touched. Becoming even more besotted as he continues to leave cute doodles and short writings on your list despite developing the habit.

"There's also when I game too hard that I end up falling asleep, and you wake me up whenever I haven't done my skincare yet. Or, when I'm too lazy to take a bath so you help take off my hairpins and prepare the tub for me." 

"You never do maintain a consistent evening schedule." He says, tone exasperated but softened with the concern underlining it.

You could only giggle because he's right. Your night schedule changes depending on what you need to do that evening. There's still a semblance of a routine to it, like doing homework before gaming and taking a bath before you sleep. 

"There's a system to it." You tease, face beaming when Riddle huffs and pouts as he admits. "I know."

It's heady, the way Riddle makes you feel. You know Riddle understands the weight of his response, and you know how much he tries to match with your needs and wants. As you thumb the softness of his cheek, you wonder what does he see in you to make him stay so far.

Rather than asking, you opt to kiss the corner of his mouth instead before laying on his chest.

You don't have to look to see how red and flustered Riddle turned. Riddle doesn't say anything and you bask at the lull of your conversation. There's a certain fragility in the air that makes you feel brave and honest. 

Sensing he's still awake, you confess, hushed and hesitant. "Sometimes, I feel like I might be too much for you. Between the two of us, you're more structured and disciplined than I could ever be." 

Hardly a second passed when the gravity of what you confessed settles, and you burrow you face deep into Riddle's chest, your stomach rolling as you had probably just ruined the mood of your pillow talk. 

But, Riddle doesn't let you stew in your assumptions. His hands leave your back and he rolls down your sleep shirt, before turning you both around, pining you under him, and cupping your cheeks in a gentle hold. 

When he kisses you, his lips presses firmly onto yours. He pulls back, just a second to breathe, before he captures your lips again and this time, his rhythm eases to something slow and syrupy. How sweet and gentle, the way he cradles your head with one hand while his other caresses the underside of your jaw.

The next time you separate, you chase him and Riddle lets you. You bite, take, and melt while Riddle soothes and gives what you need.

Both of you kiss and kiss and kiss. 

No words, no developments, no interruptions.

Just the two of you taking and giving what you can with your mouths and hands. When the moment feels right, the both of you slow down to a stop, completely flushed and smitten at each other.

"You'll never be too much for me." Riddle says, his gaze steady and his chest heaving. He dips, glistening lips hovering lightly on your collarbones as he murmurs on your skin, "You're perfect, just as you are." 

Your hands make their way to your face, uselessly trying to cover the shyness that comes over you. Your eyes close instinctively, your heart beating much louder than it feels.

What deadly and unfair combo, you think, as the force of Riddle's sincerity leaves you heating and melting.

This time, it's Riddle who laughs at your reaction. "Don't hide from me." He teases, hands encasing your own in an attempt to pry them away from your face.

You hardly yield from his efforts, resolute to hide till the rest of the evening. Until you peek with one eye open and see how the moonlight bathes the soft and boyish grin on Riddle's face.

Slowly, your resolve crumbles and you let yourself be bare in front of Riddle again. And Riddle, once again, holds you dearly in his arms.

"There's no need to pout, sweetheart."

"Oh hush, you."

Then, the both of you burst into giggles.

[laurielaureen]

Vil Schoenheit x Pomefiore!Reader (Part 2)

Part 1

"H-housewarden." You wheeze, turning to face your Housewarden and greet him properly.  

Vil's sharp eyebrow is raised at your lackluster greeting and he's unamused at the horror evident on your face. 

"So, this is that 2nd Year who's been flocking to you for help in Potionology." He says, his eyes steady on you even when he talks to Rook. You feel the urge to fix your hair and check on your outfit, wanting double check if something on your look today is amiss.

But, Rook places his hands on your shoulder, his hold strong and firm as he pushes you closer to your Housewarden. You don't even deign to resist, feet moving till you're at arm's length in Vil's vicinity. Rook keeps his body behind you, effectively prohibiting you from escaping. "Take no offense to their words Roi de Poison. The little thing is merely shy and ashamed with asking help. I believe your guidance can truly make them flourish to their most beautiful potential!" 

You don't know if you should be offended or flattered at his words. This is the first time someone insulted you to recommend you on your behalf. A gesture you would have let it slide from Rook if the person he's promoting you to is just isn't Vil Schoenheit.

You also would've given Rook a piece of your mind with his remarks, but you're locked in a weird prolonged eye-to-eye contact with your Housewarden. You wish you could break away from both of Rook's hold and Vil's gaze, but if you back down so soon, you feel that not only will it it cost your dignity but it just might affect the relationship you've built up with Rook. 

You can't let down the unwarranted sponsorship Rook presented to you. To break the offer, Vil has to be the one to reject you, not you chickening out from it.

Vil is hardly impressed at Rook's words. "I'm quite busy already with another personal project."

Yes, yes! You can feel yourself breathe easier at the prospect of Vil backing away. You try not to be too eager about it, letting Vil come to the rejection first before celebrating.

"What's your name?" Vil asks.

You say your full name, thankful you didn't stutter or mumble it.

"Your homeroom class?"

"Class 2-E."

"What subjects are you taking right now."

Vil grills you on the basics of your academic life. The classes you attend, the clubs you've joined, and the extracurricular activities you've involved with so far.

You don't know what's the purpose for Vil's interrogation but suspect it's to build profile of you. It makes you nervous, realizing how bland you must be compared with the other Pomefiore students. 

When Vil asked about non-academic activities, you drew a blank on it. You don't have any part time jobs, no outside organizations to be a part with. Not even any religious groups that you can be affiliated.

You don't see it, but you can feel how Vil must be underwhelmed by how... Simple you are.

As the questions came to a stop, the three of you are left in a silence that makes you squirm. You subtly adjust your footing, the movement making you hyperaware of the hands still planted firmly on your shoulders. 

Nevertheless, you want to pat yourself on the back. Despite the impromptu interview and the intimidating atmosphere, you at least have your own wits with you and was still able to maintain the weirdly long eye contact with you Housewarden.

You really feel you are being tested.

"You're honest." Vil remarks neutrally.

Then, he grips the base of your jaw with his gloved hand, the leather pressing firmly on your skin. Your eyes widen, surprise and confusion full-on displayed on your face.

"Or, maybe you're just docile and smart enough to know what's good for you."

What?

Vil tilts your head from this way to that. As if proving his point, you followed his guidance. You hear him hum, tone reconsidering. Oh no. 

"I can see your point, Rook." 

You blink, looking dazedly as Vil lets go and place his delicate finger under his chin, expression focused. Finally, as if the stars had seen your plight and took pity on you, Vil removes his gaze away from you.

You plead internally, hoping for this interaction to end in a conclusion that greatly benefits you.

"Still, your charge hardly looks like they want my help in the first place. I have no need for ungrateful students in my tutelage." 

At his remark, your apprehension is dampened by offense at his assumption. Oh, he's right about the 1st one, but ungrateful? That's the least thing you could be if he did choose to teach you. You're not THAT inept to not see the golden opportunity of getting tutored by one of the greatest, if not THE greatest, potioneer student in campus. 

Still, you don't want him to teach you though. The last thing you need is a harsh mentor that would judge and insult you down to the ground.

On the other hand, Rook doesn't seem to want Vil to back down. "They're merely afraid of you Roi de Poison. Your beauty and aura a new and intimidating face from their usual roster of familiar people." This time, Rook tilts your head back to Vil's attention. You lock eyes with your Housewarden again, internally wondering on what exactly is Rook planning for you. "But, even with such fear, had they not faced you unwaveringly? Waited for you to conclude rather than running away themselves? There's such potential in that, noh?"

You wait, breath shallow, as you feel the precipice of this conversation coming to an end. 

Vil's face is now unreadable. No raised eyebrow or bored eyes to tell you of his thinking process. He looks above you, probably at Rook. A silent conversation seemingly happening between them.

Slowly, amusement colors in Vil's expression. Like, he's hearing the funniest joke ever told to his face. You think it's genuine, with a hint of mockery that you ultimately feel is directed at you.

Alarms blare in your head because that's not a rejection face. Oh stars, no.

"I guess it would be remiss of me to simply look away from our underclassman knowing their failures can be fixed with a proper guiding hand." Vil says calmly. A serene expression as he insults you brazenly. 

Like a late divine intervention, the campus bell rings and you can hear the shuffling footsteps of students moving. You watch as the doors of the classroom open and a stream of students rush out their rooms.

In the midst of the increasing noise, Vil calls out with a sharp and distinct voice.

"Spudling!"

You glance from side to side before pointing at yourself.

"Yes, you." Vil is regal, the way he looks down at you, with confidence and authority, reminding you why he was always described as a perfect emulation of the Fairest Queen. "Compile your past works and quizzes in Potionology from last year to the latest and bring them to me by the end of the week." His voice lowers, the warning tone not lost on you. "My time is very sought after. And, Rook's faith is never to be trifled. I expect you to dedicate your whole being into this endeavor." 

Vil raises his eyebrow, expecting.

"Well?" 

There's a sense of deja vu that isn't missed with his action.

"Yes Housewarden!" You reply, heart beating at the weight of what you just agreed. If Vil was satisfied with your answer, you wouldn't know. You watch your Housewarden turn gracefully and make his way through the hallway, the students parting naturally for him.

Once he was out of sight, you turn your head to look at the senior who is holding onto you. You lean onto him, using him as a crutch once you feel the tremors on your knees. "What did you do?" You ask in disbelief.

Rook doesn't seem to mind the added weight. His body adjusting to give you support. He had the gall to smile brightly, with eyes curved mischievously, as tucks a loose hair behind your ear. "Me? My dear that was all you."

[laurielaureen]

Your grip tighens at the quiz sheet as the 61% red mark shamefully displays itself at the top.

This is bad. Barely a month just passed since the start of classes and you're already failing the first long quiz at Potionology. You thought you had the concepts down already but this quiz basically confirmed that you didn't yet.

You chew on a fingernail, thinking how else can you make up for this set-back. The stars might have jus aligned for you because you see a familiar golden bob pass through the hallway. Without any more thought, you cross the courtyard to approach your Vice Housewarden.

"Rook-senpai!" You call out to the senior.

Rook turns around, his expression brightening at the sight of you. "Oh! My young underclassman! What do I owe to such enthusiasm for my company?"

"Do you have any free time that I can occupy this week? I just need help for a Potionology test."

"Oh? A test about what?"

"Can you tutor me about calculations for the active compound in a formulation?"

"Ah!" Rook exclaims, hands pressed to his chest and head tilted towards the sky. You let him have his moment. Your Vice Housewarden can be a bit too exaggerating even on mundane moments, but you respect the consistency and the different approach to life. So, you wait for him to say his piece and the mouthful of other remarks that come with it. "My heart beats by how trusting you've come for my help. Our past exchanges have built enough rapport for you to finally come to this conclusion!"

You nod at his words. It wasn't really a thing you've expected from both of you. But, Rook's correction have been giving you higher marks in your homework, so you don't mind spending time with your eccentric Vice from time to time.

Besides, he was great company for nature walks around campus, especially when you're memorizing and practicing identification of relevant plant species.

"Alas," Alas? You look at your upperclassman in apprehension. Rook doesn't seem to notice the worry in your expression and he faces you with a somber face, his tone morose. "I am hardly the person you should approach."

"If you truly want to excel in potions, I suggest approaching our very own Roi du Poison, the beautiful Vil."

"Pass." You blurt out, pressing a hand immediately across your mouth at your speedy response.

"Such a decisive rejection!" Even Rook looks surprised. Oh, that's bad. You've seen how much Rook greatly admires your Housewarnden. If you offended him, Rook just might cut ties with you and you'd never get the chance to make him his tutor.

You attempt to rectify your reaction.

"I didn't mean anything bad from it! No offense to our Housewarden but," You pause, finding the proper words that wouldn't incarcerate you. "He intimidates me so much. Wand to my head senpai, if someone had to make me pick between Riddle Rosehearts and Vil, I'd choose Rosehearts." In heartbeat, you thought internally.

You've seen your Housewarnden haul around this 1st year and witnessed how strict and punishing he could be to the poor underclassman. Although you can agree on some of the points you've heard Vil said, his teaching method is a tad too much for you and the crash out the poor guy would be on once Vil is out of earshot makes you worry you might reach that same point of frustration under Vil's teaching.

You look at Rook, hoping your reasoning was honest enough to pursuade him to be your tutor. And, that it didn't offend him on how exactly you perceive your Housewarden.

Rook doesn't reply. His expression turning into pity? And, is that excitement in his eyes?

Someone speaks up from behind you.

"I can't believe that in my own dorm I'll be faced with such betrayal."

You freeze, body locking as you recognize that rich and deep voice.

"Well?"

You've heard that tone before. Heard it get directed at that poor 1st Year when he was onto a trail of a misogynistic remark. There's no impatience nor irritation in his tone. But, underlying it is a hidden danger that's ready to lash out with one more misstep.

"H-housewarden." You wheeze, turning to face your Housewarden and greet him properly.

[laurielaureen]

Riddle Rosehearts x Heartslabyul!Reader

Have this cutie blurb idea. Reader is a 2nd Year Heartslabyul student and is partners with Riddle Rosehearts for Organic Chemistry lab.

You'd think having Riddle Rosehearts as your laboratory partner would be a jackpot of all lab partners because of how reliable and smart he is as a student.

But, the guy is literally high standard personafied. Not only that, he's your Dorm Housewarden!

It's bad enough that you're in the same batch already, having him in the same class just doubles the likelihood of being noticed by him. And, now that you're lab partners with him for the entirety of the semester, all you can think of is how doomed you are and your lowkey status.

Before the overblot incident with that Ramshackle Prefect, Riddle has been a boogeyman you didn't dare to mess around with. 1st-year you had to learn and familiarize all the 810 rules just to keep yourself out from getting collared.

Of course it wasn't doable on the get-go. But, you tabulated the whole rule book in an excel sheet and even attempted to categorize them for better retention.

Your efforts did pay off because you've managed to be collar-free from your Housewarden since the 1st year. But, with this laboratory pairing, you think your long-time streak might just be over.

You're not the only one stressing in this pair-up though.

Initially, Riddle was actually excited at pairing with you. You were one of the handful of Heartslabyul that has never experienced his ire since the start of his reign. And, he's noticed how you could hold yourself well academically, recognizing the work and effort you give in classes.

You were promising in his eyes.

At the start, both you and Riddle got along in surprising ease. You both matched schedules and respected each other's time. Riddle feels ecstatic knowing you used reliable sources to fill out your shared pre-lab worksheets and you had the foresight to answer some of the guide questions in advance.

He was even surprised it was you who initiated in dividing the labor to be done in the laboratory and for asking him if he wants to run through on what will they do in the laboratort.

Then, insert various moments of you and Riddle bonding together over schoolwork, sprinkled with sharing of personal anecdotes from both of you.

But!

Unfortunately, as the lab meetings progresses, Riddle's image of you slowly crumbles as he witnesses how you flippantly disobey Good Laboratory Practice.

You leave stirring rods around, forget to write in the log book for the analytical balance, and, in one occasion, rush the filtering process by squeezing out the filter paper.

Riddle was at a dilemma. On one hand, these are minor issues and some them happened on rare occurrences. It didn't affect the overall output of your experiments and it hadn't caused any accidents yet.

Still, Riddle sees how dangerous your actions are so he's thinking through on what could be a good intervention.

(Lowkey, I want to highlight on the fact that he's hesitant. Oh boy, Riddle is hesitating on punishing you because the both of you have been bonding so well. The times you and Riddle spent together made him soft and biased regarding you.)

His breaking point was when he saw you measure concentrated acid using a pipette without industrial gloves! When you did this, Riddle resolutely had to collar you after classes and make you write a reflection of your misconducts.

If you weren't Heartslabyul, Riddle would've told on you to the professor at the first offense. Unfortunately for him, you are Heartslabyul and Riddle feels responsible over you.

You're a smart classmate. So, Riddle just can't wrap his head on why are you borderline reckless in the laboratory.

Are you testing him? Trying to see if he's actually reformed from his tyrannical ways?

On the other hand, you just genuinely want OrgChem laboratory to be over with. 

Sure, you leave some stirring rods around, but it's not like you're double dipping it back to the solution so you don't see the issue with it. You won't deny forgetting writing in the log book before using the analytical balance, but you've always made sure to write in it during clean-up! For the filtering issue, you asked your lab professor about it and he gave the go signal to do it.

As for the incident with the concentrated acid, well, you'll admit that one was borderline breaking a rule. You do understand the safety hazards and why it was a dumb move on your part. But, your industrial gloves went missing and there was like, 30 minutes left before the end of the period. You could spend 5 minutes trying to find Riddle, asking for his own set of industrial gloves, and maybe getting scolded for losing yours. Or! You could measure the acid and finish the whole experiment in that 5 minutes and have enough time for clean up.

You chose the latter obviously. Besides, it's not like you're an amateur with pipetting.

Unluckily for you, Riddle witnessed you and you just spent the rest of your evening in a heart-shaped collar.

As you write your punishment essay, you feel mad, humiliated, and hurt at your Housewarden because c'mon, it's Organic Chemistry Lab 1. You're doing qualitative tests. The class isn't that much of a high stakes as compared to Potionology II. You think it's an overreaction on Riddle's end and wrote the essay half-heartedly.

Lab work is tense after the collaring incident. Both of you still produce exceptional results in the lab but anyone in your class and circle can sense there's something brewing between the two of you, and it's not something pretty.

[laurielaureen]

Just got this fic idea of a Vil Schoenheit x Pomefiore!Reader

Reader is a 2nd Year student who's currently irregular because they failed like, the Lecture portion of Potionology II (just a random subject name but still Potionology).

One day, after another quiz from Potionology II where you did badly, you realize youre need some serious help if you want to come out more than decent from this subject. 1st person that came to your mind was their Rook senpai!

Rook senpai corrected your paper once when your homework went flying to the fields before. Rook was fortunately there to save them, and he caught a glimpse of some mistakes of your work and was kind enough to point them out for you. It was your first time having a direct encounter with your Vice Housewarden and you think, "Well, he isn't as bad as the rumors say so!"

After that incident, you've been seeking some small help from your upperclassman, asking for him to double check on your homeworks and practice sets. He didn't seem to mind your interactions and he wasn't all that judgemental about your struggle.

So, you had really thought he would be the perfect Potionology tutor to ask help for.

But, then, when you asked Rook for tutoring sessions, he rejected you!

Instead, he redirects you to Vil. Which, what?

You're scared to your wits because oh, no! Not Vil! Anyone but him!

You've seen him how he can be strict and unforgiving with that 1st Year. A bit warranted considering the 1st Year's attitude and mindset but you think Vil isn't the tutor for you.

But, lo and behold, Vil eventually takes you after Rook's persuasion and now, you're saddled to getting tutored by the best and most beautiful potioneer in campus.

You do your best (obviously, you are a Pomefiore student after all). But, the pressure to be even better is high because Vil is literally tutoring you.

Surprisingly, Vil isn't that bad of teacher that you thought of him to be. But this conclusion doesn't come yet to you till after a few sessions with him.

At the initial meetings, Vil is genuinely surprised how are you still maintaining your current standing in Potionology knowing this is how bad you are at the subject. You're competent with the lab component but abyssmal at the calculation portion and on some lecture concepts.

You're going to be doomed with the skillsets you have right now.

Vil works with you like you're on your way to compete for the Potionology Olympians. You're both testing and trying study techniques to see which ones would stick and help you. And, you've genuinely never felt so grateful and guilty about the care and dedication Vil gives with tutoring you.

Anyways, there's going to be some of the original plot inserted there at some point but for now, that's like, general idea of this fic.

[laurielaureen]

Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

It was unfortunate for you that you didn’t make it to the exemption list on Astrology VII. Despite working to maintain at least an 85-90% average in the subject, you can’t fault yourself too harshly that in the first long test in the subject, you were 1 point behind the minimum required score for the exemption criteria.

Your professor runs a strict program. A minimum pre-final grade of 85% and no missed or long test scores below 80%. You knew it was doable, even for you. But, there was always this curse on you that it takes a failing test to make you lock in to your studies and snap from your hubris and delusions.

When Riddle discovered that you were exempt in all the subject finals except for Astrology VII, you had to explain this phenomenon to him to which he replies with doubt and reluctant acceptance. You understand, you thought it sounds like a cheap excuse for your shortcomings. But, past repeated experiences from middle school to the present is evidence enough for you to know it’s a pattern. 

Can you break out of it? Riddle asked. You had tried, including for this school year. Despite your efforts, you still fail every attempt. Riddle had pondered it seriously, with his chin resting lightly on his clenched fist as he listened to you explain. Then, he vowed that the next school year the both of you will attempt again, this time, with his guidance to aid you. 

It was a sweet promise that made you flush. You had agreed to his proposition on the spot and promptly covered his face with kisses till his face bloomed to that adoring red hue.

With that out of your way, you still had the Astrology finals to problemize. In general, your main gripe with finals is how the test basically covers the whole material in the semester. You were never that good with retaining so much information and usually depended on your testmanship to carry you through heavy tests. Aside from that, though you were spared from taking the final tests in your other subjects, it cannot be denied that the week before finals is usually occupied with project deadlines and last minute quizzes. 

It was hell week for you, basically. Finalizing papers, studying multiple subjects, and taking so many quizzes. As a cherry on top, you still have your house duties that you couldn’t neglect. 

Riddle was a bright star amidst your darkness and chaos. He graciously lent you his reviewer and practice sheets, and he would bring you food during lunch when you decided to skip it to have more study time. He also went above and beyond when he offered you to sleep in his room for the next 2 weeks. His main reason was to help you wake up early and go through the review materials for your final.

You declined, saying he was doing too much. He shouldn’t have to compromise his sleep knowing that if you’re busy, he’s busier. Riddle turns down your reasoning with a kiss and a reassurance. He knows his limits, he says. He wants to help and would also like your company while both of you work on your respective responsibilities. 

You were easily charmed and persuaded, and on the same day, you had a bag prepared for your two-week long sleepover. 

Those two weeks were hectic, so many papers and reports milling in Riddle’s room. Some of them were yours, some of them were his. Occasionally, they would mix and anyone outside the two of you would be easily confused by where does your stack of work begins and where does his stack ends. 

But, the two of you are Heartslabyul for no reason. There’s a certain system, a mad and chaotic system that works for both of you even when you do different things most of the time. A type of companionship and support that just seamlessly fits and uplifts the both of you. 

Riddle was right about company making each of your own work bearable.

Finally, it was D-Day of your finals. As it was scheduled late afternoon, you used the rest of the morning to sleep in and do some last-minute review. When you left for your test, Riddle didn’t wish you luck, but he kissed the edge of your lips and half-ordered and half-reassured that you will do your best.

You answer as is appropriate, which was a ‘Yes, Housewarden.’

The test was mostly multiple-choiced questions with a few short essay portions at the end. You used up all 2 hours of the allotted time and answered everything. Once you’ve passed your answer sheet, the weight and nervousness of the past few weeks lifted from your shoulders and you made your way back to your current room.

As you enter Riddle's room, you spot Riddle perched on his recamier arranging the books placed on top of it.

With a flick of your wand, your bag flies to its container and the papers and stationary unpack neatly on top of Riddle’s study table. Then, with slow and long strides, you go straight to Riddle to greet him with a simple chaste kiss. 

Your hands cup gently on his cheeks as you slightly bend down and Riddle arches his back to meet you halfway. You take your time, savoring the light apple flavor from Riddle’s chapstick and the softness of his plush lips. Despite sharing the same room for the past 2 weeks, physical affection between the two of you was limited to greeting kisses and sleepy cuddles. There was hardly any time to relax with so much going on.

When you break the kiss, you sit beside Riddle and wrap your arms around his midsection to pull him into a hug. Riddle wraps his arms around your neck to return the affection. 

Soft lips press on to your temple. “How was your test?" Riddle asks. He pulls back slightly from the hug to deftly unclasp the clips decorating your hair.

You watch, a giddy smile coming to you easily as Riddle fixes the front of your hair delicately and seriously, feeling the tips of his nail occasionally brush lightly on your forehead. "Your reviewer helped. Almost all of it showed up on the test." 

Riddle hums, his hand moving to take off your hair tie. Gently, his fingers card through your hair and your eyes slip close at the soothing sensation.

"And, the rest?" He asks, but you didn't respond immediately.

"Sweetheart." Riddle calls out to you, his tone low and teasing.

You make a small noise of displeasure at being disturbed but you respond to his question. "I think they were the offhand things Sir discussed. Couldn't remember reading it from his presentations." 

You tighten your embrace and snuggle closer to Riddle’s chest. "But, I still got to answer them anyways. Hopefully they were right." 

A hand rests lightly on your cheek, softly caressing the skin. "I'm glad to hear it went well." 

"Can't celebrate yet. No results, no guarantee."

Riddle shifts, his hold adjusting your head, and he presses a short kiss to your lips. "Have faith, sweetheart." 

You giggle, flushing at his reassurance. You don't really doubt you'll do badly in the finals, but you’re aiming for a high score that would be enough payoff from the crazy schedule balancing you had to do. You can only hum as a response, not willing to jinx anything.

When you break off from your hug, Riddle tucks your hair behind your ear and gently removes the glasses on your face. He says, "Let's get you washed up. I'll have the bath set up." 

You look at him in faux offense, your hand splaying dramatically on your chest. "Are you calling me stinky?"

Riddle looks at you unimpressed. "We know that's not what I mean." 

You ignore his words as you cross your legs together and straighten your back, now fully committing to your bit. "I can't believe that in my own house I'll be faced with such judgment. My goodness!"

"It's my room, sweetheart." 

"And, just after I faced a gruesome test? Oh the pain, the—mmhp!" 

It’s a little embarrassing how easily you cave when Riddle cuts you off with affection. You’d think it was malicious but Riddle is hardly the type to do it with such intent. When Riddle breaks off, he gives you a deadpanned look that never fails to amuse you. "Cease such dramatics. You smell fine but we both know you're a few minutes away from dropping dead." 

"Simp alert." You whisper under your breath.

Riddle rolls his eyes, and it somehow makes you feel so besotted to him. 

"Now, stop dawdling and get your clothes. I'll take care of the bath."

You make quick work of undressing your clothes and doing a quick shower to clean your body. Wrapped in a towel, you watch fondly as Riddle adjusts the temperature of the water in the bathtub. It’s an adorable sight, seeing him in his black pajamas hunched over the bathtub as he twists the knobs and dip his hand in the water occasionally. 

When he gestures for you to enter the bath, you giggle as he looks up to the ceiling while you remove the towel from your body and dip under the water. You sigh, eyes closing in content and head leaning back comfortably on the wall. The feel of the water is nice and the temperature is perfect to your liking. 

You hear Riddle pad out of the room, telling you he’ll come right back. You hum, too relaxed to form words as a response.

A few minutes later, you hear a knock. "Are you settled in? I'm coming inside."

"Yeah." You answer, splashing the surface of the water as emphasis. "Are you joining me?" You tease, but the question is genuine. 

You watch Riddle come into the bathroom holding a bowl and a salad fork. "Not today."

Riddle perches on the lip of the bathtub and you can see the contents of the bowl. You gasp. "Sliced fruits?" 

Riddle hums. "It's mangoes, strawberries, and apples. Here." He picks a sliced apple with the fork and feeds it to you. It was crunchy and cold, like freshly taken out of the fridge. Just the way you like it. 

"You're spoiling me." You open your mouth again, asking for another fruit. Riddle complies and gives you a mango piece.

"I believe good behavior must be rewarded."

"Are we having sex after this?" You ask, a little breathless. 

"Do you want to?"

You weigh on the option for a few seconds. "No." You decide. 

"Not even if I do all the work?" 

You shake your head, resolute. You think of the fluffy pillows and soft warm blankets on your shared bed. An image of low lights and a laptop screen playing immediately follows. "I want cuddles and a movie." 

"Cuddles and movies." He repeats. You can feel yourself turn gooey and melty as Riddle nods. "I'll set up the movie later."

"Thank you." You say before you take another bite of a piece of mango offered to you. 

The two of you stayed in the bathroom, eating till you empty the bowl and talking about the latest Hearstlabyul shenanigans and projects. Occasionally, you would feed Riddle some fruit which he declined the first few times, but he relented eventually knowing his protests didn’t deter you.

Once the tub has been drained and you’ve changed into your pajamas, Riddle helps you dry your hair with your routine. And, for the rest of the duration, you’re realizing once again how much care and attention Riddle gives to you. The thought settles a nice and light weight on your chest, making you look more fondly at your partner.

With the lights dimmed low in the room and the laptop set up, you and Riddle huddle together by the headboard to watch the movie. Somewhere along the middle of it, Riddle lays across the bed with his head on your lap. 

His eyes are half-lidded but there’s a fighting battle between focusing on the movie or succumbing to the relaxing ministrations of your fingers running through his head.

“You’re making me sleepy.” He grumbles. You laugh, a soft and giddy sound. He knows he could leave and sit up straighter if he wants to focus more on the movie. Both of you know it. But, he isn’t. And, it makes you pause your movements to press your lips sweetly on his temple. 

“Don’t fight it, sweetie. I wouldn’t mind having you in my lap.” 

Riddle scoffs but there’s no disdain in the sound. There's a light red flush covering his face. “You tease too much. I’ll finish the movie.”

“Whatever you say.” You brush the pads of your fingertips lightly on his cheeks before resuming on carding your fingers through his hair.

A quarter before the movie ends, you can feel Riddle slumber peacefully on your lap, his breath evening out and his weight settling deeper on your lap. You finish the movie and set the laptop on the drawer. Then, you slowly arrange Riddle comfortably on his side and, with a flick of your wand, close the lights on his room. 

You take your place beside him and sleep.