The Seventeen Chronicles : A Mini-series W/ Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Jihoon And Minghao

the seventeen chronicles : a mini-series w/ seungcheol, jeonghan, wonwoo, jihoon and minghao

synopsis : london, 1804. each season is marked by the turbulence of newly eligible bachelors and bachelorettes, all looking for the greatest match of the season and making the perfect alliance. this mini-series is about five of them.

pairing : svt member x fem!reader. stories are set up in the same universe but can be read independently.

genre : regency!au, fluff, comfort, angst (it’ll be more detailed for each fic)

status : finished

word count : 36,2k w

a/n : this is really historically incorrect, im just here for the aesthetic so let’s go with the flow and enjoy ig

running for the crown : king!seungcheol x queen!reader, arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, 6,6k w

y/n, duchess of aquitaine, spent her whole life in france when she’s suddenly sent off in england where she is meant to marry choi seungcheol, the second son of late king of england and future ruler of the english empire. when she arrives in a whole new and foreign country, lost and disoriented, she meets a strange man, soft as the ray of sunshine and cold as the gust of wind.

you’re the only one that i want : brother’s viscount!joshua x countess!reader, brother’s best friend, friends to lovers, 6k w

saying that y/n was the most awaited debutante was a huge understatement. an ethereal beauty, a radiant personality and, last but definitely not least, an immeasurable dowry: the young girl was the target of all the ton’s eyes. yet, after losing her older brother, the young lady was far from interested in finding a husband, which wasn’t the ton’s opinion at all. seeking her brother’s best friend’s help, she will have to fight and protect herself against this cruel world.

checkmates : viscount!jeonghan x duchess!reader, enemies to lovers, 1,8k w

cold. apathetic. indifferent. arrogant. self-satisfied. those were the words the court used to employ when they were referring to you. you were well known in the whole kingdom for your cleverness at chess, your grace when dancing and your precision at archery but also for your lack of conversation or interest in anyone or anything apart from dance and studies. and if it seemed like the ton got used to your attitude, yoon jeonghan didn’t look fazed in the slightest.

prenuptial agreement : duke!wonwoo x viscountess!reader, fluff, angst, childhood friends to fake marriage to lovers, 6,1k w

this is your twentieth birthday and your twentieth season in london but this time, it will be as an eligible bachelor and bachelorette. you become the most popular young lady to make her debut among the ton while wonwoo is avoiding marriage like plague. but when your family decides to accept the proposal from an old and repellent count, you try to find a way out and let’s say you have the most brilliant and stupid idea.

the war’s board : war advisor!jihoon x queen’s lady!reader, rivals to lovers, 6,2k w

jihoon’s fate was preordained. growing up alongside the king, he followed every geopolitical lessons, learnt every strategies and read every books related to war. one day, he meets one of the queen’s favourite lady who exceptionally become his colleague. a strong rivalry and competition starts between the two of them and jihoon knew that losing wouldn’t be an option

you are a work of art : diplomate!minghao x countess!reader, strangers to lovers, 3,8k w

xu minghao spent his whole life in a boat, traveling from an embassy to another, tagging along with his parents. today, his parents wish he could find an anchor in london but minghao can’t resign himself to give up a life full of adventures and treasures.

bonus: knight of king : king!soonyoung x knight!reader, childhood friends to lovers, forbidden love, 5,5k w

being the knight of the king of the french future monarch included being constantly around him, insuring his constant protection and wellbeing. being the knight of the king also included putting his life before yours and always being ready to sacrifice said life for him. and you were ready for those two functions since the moment you decided to enlist. 

but what being the knight of the king didn’t include was to fall for him and sadly, you also added this function to your list of tasks. 

@/som1ig 2023 | all rights reserved | do not plagiarise

ushijima x reader. some angst, mostly fluff, suggestive content. timeskip spoilers. plot: your long-time coworker turned friend, Kuroo, sets you up on a date with one of his finest clienteles.

To stay unattached is to keep a distance.

Ushijima Wakatoshi knows this well enough. He had gotten accustomed to it at an early age, when his parents divorced. It was pretty clear that his mom hardly wanted anything to do with him, and neither did her family.

His intention is to keep this maxim walking into the date. Though, it doesn’t deter him from being the gentleman he is, even when you show up 15 minutes late.

Your first impression of Wakatoshi is that he is a man of few words. You aren’t put off by it, however, you prefer a man that knows his points, speaks it, and waits for a response in deliberate silence. It’s endearing in its own way.

It’s endearing now, when you can’t help but find yourself staring at him. His dress shirt and pants—Armani— are tailored to fit him perfectly. You saw when he stood up to greet you, even pulling your chair out for you (swoon.) His jawline is sharp, eyes stoic, and his shoulders are so broad—

He’s turned to you with expecting eyes.

“Oh- sorry, what did you say?”

Wakatoshi clears his throat and straightens in his seat. “I said because I’ll be in Europe soon, I’m not looking for anything serious right now.”

Oh. Okay… you can work with that. You usually don’t do one-night-stands, but the longer you look at him, the more amorous you’re getting.

“I’m sorry if that disappoints you.”

You perk up, realizing you haven’t given a reply. “Not at all! I’m not really interested in that either.”

A lie. You fear you are quite the hopeless romantic at heart.

As you resume to your dish, he takes a moment to watch you.

Wakatoshi might not be too well versed in pop-culture, but he has picked up a few magazines in his free time and reads enough ads to know that you’re quite the public figure yourself. Quite the vivacious one at that— according to some headlines.

He isn’t too sure of what your job is, just knows that you’ve worked alongside Kuroo for a while and recently ventured into the fashion world. Your confidence in style illuminates under the dim lamps of the restaurant: classic, chic, timeless. He hadn’t missed the wandering eyes when you walked through the door.

When Kuroo had called him during his off-season trip back to Japan, Wakatoshi had initially declined, not wanting to start something he wasn’t sure if he could finish. But, Kuroo had insisted, saying that you thought “his eyes are pretty” and wanted to see for yourself if they were olive or brown. Safe to say, he was intrigued and figured he’d quell your thirst for knowledge.

When dinner concludes after some small, but interesting talks, Wakatoshi insists he pay for the bill, and before you can deny, his card is already given to the waitress without even looking at the check.

“Thank you for dinner, Wakatoshi. It was delicious.”

“Of course.” He says as he holds the door open for you. You both walk to the marble water fountain placed in front of the parking lot. “Have you decided what color my eyes are?”

You freeze.

(“They’re definitely brown.” Kuroo assured.

“We’ll see. You didnt tell him I said anything about his eyes though did you ?”

“Not at all!” Kuroo gave his salesman smile to your glare. His two thumbs up acting as a shield from your valid accusation.

He did.)

You make a mental note to leave a scathing voicemail later.

“Oh!” You laugh, bashful, a hand coming up to rub your neck. “That….”

It appears Wakatoshi is still waiting for an definitive answer. You suppose he’s the not the type of man to tease, but still comes off just as humorous through his bluntness. It’s lovely, you think, you prefer to be the one teasing anyway. You step closer, leaning in close enough for him to feel the surface of fabric on your evening wear against his own. The string lights around the restaurant have given you both a warm, golden hue. It’s brighter out here.

“…Right now, they look olive. In the restaurant, they looked a dark brown.” Your voice is quieter now, but you’re still looking at him with that inquisitive gaze of yours. And he can’t help but study back. He scans your face and absentmindedly thinks those magazines don’t do you justice. He watches as your lips curve upwards into a small smile. “I guess it depends on the lighting, but my verdict is olive.”

Neither of you have moved, still inches apart. It feels… intimate. “What color do you say they are?”

Wakatoshi never thought about it, never really cared, but right now, he just wants to agree with you. “Olive.”

He watches as your smile grows, feeling his heart beat at a quicker pace. “Ah, I love being right.” There’s a moment of silence until you take a step back and extend your hand, “Well. Goodnight, Wakatoshi.”

Wakatoshi gives a nod, breaking out of his short-lived trance. He takes your hand, thinks your skin is some sort of magnet the way he can’t bring himself to pull away.

And before he can think clearly and go through with his plan of saying goodbye and leaving it at that to go your separate ways, he leans in closer, gently tugging you in with his hand still in yours.

You don’t move a way, instead you purse your lips as you look to his and back up at his olive eyes.

His voice is just above a whisper.

“May I… kiss you?”

He’s not sure who kisses who first after he asks. He just knows that for the following weeks, Wakatoshi sees you more than he should be. He becomes accustomed to your presence in his apartment, your smell on his bed, and the way you call him ‘toshi against his lips.

The weekend before his flight(weekends of which you usually spend the night) you don’t come over. He doesn’t play dumb at the fact that he had been the one to say it wasn’t serious in the first place. You seemed to take that to heart. He remembers the sadness in your eyes the last time you were in his home, telling him you weren’t good at goodbyes. Did you think he was?

Wakatoshi spent that weekend mulling the last few weeks over, missing you. He mentally scolds himself for letting it go this far, but how was he supposed to know his heart would cave at your simplest touch?

This kind of issue can only be resolved by talking to one person: a best friend.

And Tendou Satori rarely misses a phone call from his.

“I suppose me leaving is for the best.” Wakatoshi had rationalized, the afternoon before his flight, filling Tendou in about the heartache that is you.

“Maybe.”

“The more distance the better.”

“Ah, but Wakatoshi-kun, doesn’t distance make the heart grow fonder?”

His flight landed in Poland around noon. Many hours on the plane, Wakatoshi decides he isn’t good at goodbyes either. He calls you when he reaches his hotel.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” His voice is caught on the air, surprised you’d picked up so quickly. “I just landed. I…I—“

To be unattached is to keep a distance. But, even thousands of miles away from you, Wakatoshi is bound, tied true to the anchor that is your voice and the mirage of your face when he hears it.

“I miss you too.”

He wants to laugh because really, it’s only been three days since you’ve seen each other. Have you both grown lovesick?

“Can I see you when I get back?”

“Wakatoshi, that’s weeks— months away.” You laugh. He smiles upon hearing it. Yeah, lovesick. “Who knows what will happen by then?”

His smile is replaced by a confused frown. “What will happen?” Before you can answer, he has spoken again. “Nothing will change. For me, at least.”

You hum. A beat of silence. “‘Toshi?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be thinking about you until then.”

Wakatoshi thinks he might just fly you out and attach you to him forever.

…

(On a random weekday, Kuroo receives a box of Parisian chocolates and a typed out ‘Thank You’ card on his desk. The card flips to show a man with red hair and red eyes.)

a/n: ty for reading! long distance sucks, but this couple will make it thru :’)

Nooo Bruce 😭😭😭

𝐈 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐕)

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"A lonely moon craving for the radiant sun." In which a certain girl catches the attention of a prideful billionaire playboy as they both attempt to find their way in the world. (I haven't seen many fics explore Bruce in his formative years, so I thought I'd share my take on them, of course with romance.)

wc: 2469

“We need to talk,” Bruce began as he pulled her away from Harvey.

“Aren’t we doing that already?” y/n quipped, upset by his sudden appearance. Harvey was about to say something important by the way his face hardened, but she’d have to wait to find out what. 

Bruce audibly groaned as his voice adopted a serious tone, “We need so place private to talk. Now.”

Her eyebrows remained knit, annoyed by Bruce’s insistence, yet regardless she turned toward Harvey to tell him she’d be leaving. It was careless of her to be alone with Bruce, especially after Harvey had disclosed his concerning nature, but regardless it couldn’t be worse than the alternative fate she was running from. 

When her head spun back to her best friend, she noticed Harvey lost in deep thought. His emerald eyes were fixated on something in the distance, staring right through the short blonde wavy bangs that fell over his forehead. She wanted to move a hand to caress his face and preserve the serene moment in which they were both momentarily at peace. She was melting in his presence and she wished to relish it for as long as she could, until Bruce cleared his throat and broke the trance she was lost in. 

“Harvey,” she called out softly, hoping to not startle him. After blinking a few times, he turned to meet his eyes with y/n’s. Acknowledging her with a hum, she continued, “I need to go. I don’t think I’ll be back soon, so don’t wait up for me. Ok?”

He sighed knowing that there was no convincing the woman after she had made up her mind about something. He thought of saying no. He didn’t want her to go, especially not with him. But, she wasn’t going to let go of Bruce anytime soon, despite his warning, and her decision to leave signaled something he wasn’t ready to admit just yet. She was drifting from him and though he was selfish enough to want her all to himself, he loved her too much to deny her anything. 

“Ok.” He answered, before turning back to the work he had set aside earlier. 

Before moving to leave she squeezed his shoulder attempting to elicit a response, but to her dismay, Harvey’s head remained unmoving from the papers in front of him. 

Bruce lead the way out of the library with y/n shadowing right behind with her head down in defeat. They strolled down the halls and past the buildings till they reached the school entrance where a limo was parked. She followed Bruce’s lead as they entered the vehicle and situated themselves.

“Where are we going?” She had no advantage over him, no leverage against Bruce to sway things in her favor. Bruce’s want for help was unexpected, but undeniably an advantageous opportunity for her to finally be free. Amidst the conversation with Harvey she had decided, she would take up on his offer, as long as she knew she was safe. 

“You got in a stranger’s car blindly?” Bruce quipped, obviously trying to tease her.

“Oh, so now we’re strangers? And for your information, I didn’t get in blindly. If we’re going to be partners we have to have a certain level of trust between us, no?” Bruce smirked, happy that she had taken up on his earlier proposition. 

“So, tell me. Why were you there that night?” 

y/n didn’t want to give him all her cards, after all, he had notoriously been deflecting all her questions. Instead, she changed the topic, hoping to run him in circles until he spilled what he knew first. “Are you sure this limo is a safe space to be talking about this? For all we know there could be recording devices hidden everywhere.”

“Trust me, there aren’t. Now, what aren’t you telling me?”

She couldn’t keep it in. If they wanted to get anywhere with this conversation, she had to tell him the truth, or at least part of it. “I ran errands for someone powerful. They usually–” She hesitated, scared that Bruce would turn on her. Instead, his face scrunched into a serious expression as he waited for her to continue, unwavering in his resolve. “I got bribes for them. I would go to a drop-off location, pick up cash, and bring it back to them. I thought this time it would be the same, but the address was something new.”

The boy seated across from y/n was engrossed in the details as he focused on the view outside the window. y/n rolled her eyes, growing irritated by his persistent ignorance of her. Ever since they met, he had barely spoken a word to her and purposely tried to hurt any way he saw fit. What was she even doing here, had she gone insane? Regret began to fester in the pit of her stomach as the past began to creep back into her mind. Four years of what felt like torture endured at the hands of a boy who wanted her help. Nothing made sense anymore. 

The ride continued in silence until they arrived at the manor and headed into an elaborately decorated study. Hundreds of books covered the rich mahogany shelves that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Some books were binded with real leather while others had delicate covers as if they were the original copies. There were no empty spaces or gaps between the levels as each shelf above perfectly matched the height of the books below. The intricacy of the carvings within the wood was so detailed that each crevice formed a masterpiece. Among racks of wood, was an antique bronze staircase still shiny and firm to the touch. It too had intricate designs enchanting it. It was a sight to behold, especially as the evening light filtered through the skylight.

At the center of the room stood a desk with a similar antiquity to it with carved wooden legs and a polished top. In front of it, a whiteboard was placed in which a series of photos, receipts, documents, and magnets were organized, all connected by red string. At the sight, y/n turned to Bruce with an eyebrow raised, barely able to hold the urge to tease him about playing detective. 

“I’ve been investigating Carmine Falcone for a while now. That night we both got an address. You might’ve thought that the address you received was of his home, but you’re wrong.” Bruce began his eagerness to share his revelations apparent in his voice. 

“What do you mean? What else could it be?” y/n turned her body towards him, paying full attention.

“I’m not sure. But I know for a fact that the address I got was of his real home. So that must mean you’re being taken elsewhere.” 

“How would you even know that? If everyone knows Falcone lives in one place, don’t you think it’d be too dangerous for him to do anything illegal there? It would be out in the open.”

“Precisely, he’s hiding in plain sight.” 

y/n thought for a moment. It made sense for him to keep his secret operation somewhere no one would expect. Even more chilling was the admitting that Falcone or Wilcox was trying to tie her up with something really bad. Of course, she would get the ominous address, there would be no one to question her disappearance and no support for her to fall back on if they did in fact trap her. She was the perfect scapegoat. 

Bruce continued, brushing off the worry that plagued y/n’s features. “A couple of months ago, I noticed an increased amount of movement of GCPD vehicles, but there was rarely any radio chatter on the police lines. Obviously, the disparity was suspicious so I–”

y/n stalked closer to Bruce as she interrupted, “How do you even that? Why do you know that? Bruce, it's not normal to be stalking the police even if you are immune to them. I need to know your intentions before I do something I know I’ll regret.” She glared at the boy as he mirrored her movements, attempting to intimidate her. He looked down at her, caging her between his arms as he moved unwaveringly. She didn’t realize her position until her back hit the desk and she was stuck. He put his hands at her sides, resting them on the desktop as he leaned his face closer to her. He was close enough for y/n to feel his warm breath on her skin, reminding her of when he had caught her in that tunnel. But his narrowed eyes scared her for within them, she could see a glimpse of the monster Harvey had described. 

“That’s for me to know.” His voice sounded more husky and articulate than before.

He moved a bit further away, still trapping y/n between him and the desk, as he resumed, “As I was saying, the extra vehicles always appeared after a drug bust. I investigated a little more and found out that half the drugs found at the crime scenes were never reported anywhere. It got me thinking: GCPD is known for being dirty. Almost every cop is on someone’s payroll and Falcone is probably using them to run an operation of his own.”

y/n still wasn’t buying it. Though she knew she shouldn’t poke the beast, she couldn’t help but give in to her instinct. “I still don’t understand why that’s suspicious. If the cops have been dirty for years, what’s so special about them helping Falcone now?”

“Like I said, that’s for me to know.” Bruce remained resolute in his response, but it was the very thing that gave him away. y/n could tell he didn’t want to divulge his stake in the scheme, but it was something personal enough for him to investigate it to this degree. 

Regardless, she decided she should stop pushing her luck. Bruce was right, she didn’t need to know his motivation to get out of this alive. Concentrating on the case once more, she pondered on the evidence he had presented. Gotham was infamous for its drug distribution, and heading those operations was usually Falcone. “So Falcone’s taking the drugs from his competitors in these busts, asking the cops to take half the supply to give to him, and outselling?”

The two continued their discussion of the case, analyzing all the items pinned on the whiteboard. Eventually, they both moved to seat themselves on the floor, allowing the tension to dissipate with every laugh Bruce was able to get out of y/n. Though he didn’t reveal much about himself, and neither did she to him, they both enjoyed tracing the trail formed by the idiocy and carelessness of the crooked cops. 

Before she knew it, the skylight had darkened, preset lights had turned on, and an empty pizza box lay open beside her. She could feel Bruce’s gaze on her, softer than before. A genuine smile painted her face as she looked at him ignoring the butterflies that tumbled in her stomach. There was no denying how handsome Bruce Wayne was. The sharp jaw, slicked-back black hair with a single strand falling in front of his face and sculpted features made him look like the heartthrob of the century. Something about his conviction reminded her of Harvey, how they were both so purposeful. 

He moved his fingers closer to hers, laying them atop hers as used his other hand to pull out a box from his pocket. Presenting the item, he revealed, “I’m sorry about your other phone, but you have to admit, that thing was ancient.”

Smiling, she playfully tapped his arm, feigning offense as she noticed the photo of a phone on the box. He placed it between them and gestured for her to open it. Awed by just how advanced and pricey the phone seemed just from its encasing she protested, “Bruce, I know I said that you owe me a phone but I can’t take this.”

“You’ll have to, how else will anyone be able to hear your angelic voice when you’re not there.” Bruce furiously blushed as the words left his lips, but the ambient light was just warm-toned enough to hide it. y/n, on the other hand, was confused and flustered by the unexpected compliment. She stumbled over her words before sealing her lips shut and surrendering to him.

Opening the box, she was met with the newest, best model of the iPhone on the market. Her jaw was practically on the floor as she gawked at her newest prized possession. She had never had the finances to afford something this beautiful or functional. The sleek surface of the unscratched screen and the undented backing of the phone was truly awing. 

Left speechless, she was barely able to let out her gratuity with an appreciative “Thank you.” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Usually, Monday classes were the dullest point of the week. But this time, y/n’s mind was rarely in class. As the teachers began to say their farewells and congratulations to the students for having finally completed high school, y/n lost herself within a mind captured by Bruce Wayne. It wasn’t out of character for her to be alone, so as she daydreamed free from the suspicions of others, y/n began entertaining the possibilities for why Bruce was being nice to her. 

It wasn’t until the end of the day when Harvey had come to accompany her for the practice graduation ceremony that she forced herself out of the trance. It was dangerous to fall for someone so fickle with his partners, much less someone who held her life in his hands. If she upset him, annoyed him, or even irritated him too much, there was not telling what he would do. 

As she filtered into the football field, holding onto Harvey’s shirt so as to not get separated in the crowd, she saw Bruce. Situated by the podium, he had a girl wrapped in his arms. She was laughing at something he said, leaning into him close enough for their noses to touch. For a moment her line of sight was blocked but as the crowd began to die, she saw him kissing her passionately. 

It was no surprise he would have arm candy with him, he always did. But why did it hurt? Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach and her eyes became teary leaving her stupefied. Why did it confuse her so much? 

Despite the discrepancy between her mind and her heart, one thing was clear. Harvey was right: Bruce had a knack for causing pain and how foolish was she to think that she was the only flower in his garden.

˖ ࣪🦇𓆰♡𓆪🦇ִ ࣪⋆

taglist: @earth-to-name

𝐈 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐈𝐈)

previous • next

"A lonely moon craving for the radiant sun." In which a certain girl catches the attention of a prideful billionaire playboy as they both attempt to find their way in the world. (I haven't seen many fics explore Bruce in his formative years, so I thought I'd share my take on them, of course with romance.)

wc: 3249

She’d heard something before she fell asleep, but she couldn’t decipher the words. y/n knew it was something important, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what. Contemplation tired her mind enough to grant her sleep for a few minutes before the tension in the air awoke her. Peeking from her closed eyelids so as to not alert the boys near her, y/n saw how Harvey occasionally threw a pointed glare at a stoic Bruce. The two had initially remained quiet, but it seemed they were itching for a fight. 

After a small glance at the uneasy scene, she attempted to rest again, but just as she had begun to return to her slumber, a voice began, “What’s your problem?”

Though she kept her lids shut now, y/n could tell that the sound originated from the back where Bruce sat. She had to stop from rolling her eyes, as she realized he was quoting her exact words from earlier. Typical rich kids, always taking. 

Harvey, pounced at the chance to squabble as he replied, “You.”

“I need you to elaborate there, buddy. Lots of people have a problem with me for lots of reasons.”

“Buddy?” Harvey let out a bittersweet chuckle, his voice laced with a hint of disgust at the nickname. “Do you even remember who I am?”

“Harvey Dent, son of Harvey Dent Senior. You’re dad’s a politician and you wanna follow in his footsteps. Now, your turn.” Bruce spoke robotically, attempting to reciprocate Harvey’s attitude.

“You really don’t remember, huh? Should’ve guessed.”

Bruce, annoyed by Harvey’s ambiguous answers, remained mum the rest of the ride, occasionally letting out a deep sigh like an angry toddler. y/n was glad that Bruce had a taste of his own medicine, but her curiosity was also awakened by the cryptic responses Harvey had stated. She thought that this was Harvey’s way of finally opening up, giving her the green light to explore his truths after years of distance. 

When the car stopped at the gates of the Wayne manor, Bruce immediately rose to attention and swiftly exited the vehicle, as if staying any longer would have killed him. He ran through the slow-opening gates, disappearing in the fog-ridden entrance before y/n heard the engine rev to a start. 

Slowly she opened her eyes, basking in the peace she found with Harvey’s presence before revealing, “I heard everything.”

Harvey stayed silent, his eyes remaining secured to the dimly lit road ahead of him. y/n moved to place a hand on his thigh, gently so as to not startle him. She let her fingers lay there, in a comforting manner before assuring, “I know you’ve got some pent-up frustration right now, and I just want you to know, I’m here if you want to talk.” She could feel him relax under her touch, the words soothing the wounds that had re-opened previously. “I’m always here.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gotham was never quiet. The sirens always rang, especially in the dead of night. The people always shout whether it be to scream for help or bark a demand. The rain always pattered against windows, leaving the outside world to be a blurry distortion of reality. y/n found the noise to be comforting most nights because it made her feel less lonely, and it ensured that the trouble would stay where it was meant to be: outside. But now her heart beat louder than the ambiance of Gotham, louder than any concert. It beat her chest so hard that her ears ached at the sound. She tossed and turned, holding a pillow to her ears in an attempt to shut everything out, but silence was impossible to attain. 

She was angry because reality had hit her like a speeding bullet for the first time in a long time. She’d done so much, sacrificed her time, her health, and her whole being to be accepted into Gotham Academy. It was the first step in her naive grand plan to be happy. But fate is anything but kind, for however much she works, she’s destined to fall. Falcone would be the sun that burns her wax wings, or maybe it was Wilcox, the man who had set her down this perverted path. But no matter who she sought to accuse for an inevitable early death, like Icarus she had only herself to blame for wanting to reach higher than she was meant to. Her anger culminated in prickling tears rolling down her cheek uncontrollably. Her eyes red & puffy, cheeks drenched with salty water, and throat hoarse from catching her breath, y/n fell asleep, knocked unconscious by the sheer exhaustion of her overwhelmed state. 

The next morning, y/n awoke with a freshness. The tears had washed away her despondency, leaving room for a lingering courage to resurface. When dawn had struck, faint slivers of light breaking through the cloudy skies, she was already up and about. Pacing back and forth in her dorm, y/n concocted a plan of action to resolve her predicament. She would talk to Wilcox, say that their relationship had gone much farther than she was willing to go and that he needed to move forward without her. She could report him to GCPD. It wasn’t like every cop there was on someone’s payroll, there had to be someone there to help her. 

But if she reported him, he had to have known she’d go down as his accomplice. He’s got a pricey lawyer to get him out unscathed, but her? She’s got nobody to fight for her. Yet, maybe Wilcox continued pressuring her because he knew she wouldn’t stand up. It couldn’t hurt to push back, after all, nothing could have been worse than dying because of Carmine Falcone. 

After an hour of going back and forth with the myriad of ways the conversation could go, y/n never expected for Wilcox to be this vile. She made her way down to his office as soon as her mind had calmed and walked through the open doors as soon as she arrived. He was expecting her, for before her heel even landed inside the room, the man exclaimed, “y/n! How have you been?”

When y/n entered the room completely, she apprehensively muttered, “Fine.” She kept her head down, fear beginning to creep up her spine at his uncanny attitude. Never had he been this nice to her.

“Well, got what I need?”

y/n moved forward quickly, placing the wad of cash she had found the day before in front of him. His resting face morphed into a sinister smile as he brushed a hand through the notes. Looking up as he played with the bundle of money, he raised an eyebrow.

y/n’s mouth was slightly agape at the sight. She mustered the courage she had earlier in the morning, resolute in seeing through with her plan as she began, “I won’t do this anymore. I don’t know what you’ve got yourself involved with and frankly, I don’t care. I won’t ruin myself by continuing to be involved.”

“Ah…you think you’ve got a choice in the matter?” He rose from his seat, his chair screeching against the polished wooden floor as it jerked backward. Hands now placed flat against the mahogany of his desk, he bore his eyes into y/n. “You’re in more of a desperate situation than you think. I’m assuming you got the address, yes? Well, Carmine wants blood and it won’t be mine. Seeing as you’re a scholarship kid, it wouldn’t be hard to justify anything that might happen to you–”

“–I’ve got friends. What makes you think that I can’t just tell Carmine it was you?”

“Bold, I’ll give you that,” Wilcox moved around his desk and strode toward the girl dropping the smile. Face to face, he leaned down to her ear whispering, “I’ve got friends too. Friends who can take away that Harvard scholarship. Friends who can make sure you can’t escape Gotham. Friends who can make your life beyond the Academy a living hell. You’ve got no idea what you’re up against little girl.”

He stepped away, re-plastering the smile on his face, and opened the door motioning for y/n to step out. As she turned to leave y/n took a shaky breath and stopped at the exit before saying, “I won’t back down without a fight.”

She rushed out of the room, walking down the administrative building hallway with no awareness of her surroundings. She never expected the interaction to have been easy, but for it to end in this war was too much for her to handle. Who was she kidding, she didn’t have anything to fight the dean with. No dirt, no power, no advantage, nothing but a death sentence. 

As she rounded a corner, she collided with a hard surface. She stumbled backward, holding her head in her hands as a migraine developed. With a hand placed on her throbbing head, she attempted to center herself and realized she had bumped into Bruce.

“You ok?” Bruce seemed genuinely concerned as he inquired. His hand stretched toward her, brushing over her head before y/n took another step back.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” Her voice was weaker than it had been before. Bruce noticed how she had sunk into herself, her eyes bloodshot and her cheeks flushed. Her breaths were fairly shaky as she retreated from him. There was no point beating around the bush. Whatever he wanted to say, he needed to say it now.

“I have a proposition.” He paused for a moment, waiting for confirmation to continue. When y/n stared at him, waiting for more, he continued, “I think we’ve both bitten off more than we can chew. Some bad things are about to happen and I want to stop it. But, I can’t do it alone. I–uh” He hesitated for a moment before begrudgingly declaring, “I need your help.”

“Care to elaborate? Mr. I’m Above Everything and Everyone wants to play hero? What’s really in it for you and why do you want my help?” She waited for Bruce to respond, yet he remained silent. “Ok. I’m not risking my life for you. I’m not stupid. If you want a scapegoat, ask one of your many admirers.” 

She was about to stomp off, beyond pissed that people only viewed her as a tool. Bruce, mindful of the apparent anger brewing within y/n, grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to face him. “I can save you from Falcone if you do this for me. Better yet, I can make sure you’re untouched by everyone in this city.”

Had he heard her conversation with Wilcox? Questions swirled in her already preoccupied mind, but y/n brushed them off. It didn’t matter how much he knew, what mattered was the tempting offer he just proposed. This was her way out, a solution for all her hardship. To have no anchors holding her down opened a world of possibility, but an offer like that was too true for her to believe. He wouldn’t hand over such power without a price equally as revolting. She needed to know she could trust him to follow through before she signed her life away to the devil.

“How do I know you won’t leave me high and dry? I do your dirty work and take the fall while you reap the glory.”

“You don’t.” Great, just the answer she needed. He really played the role of an asshole quite passionately. 

Rolling her eyes, she shook his hands off her wrist and marched toward the library for some peace. She texted Harvey on the way, hoping to make up for ditching him yesterday by meeting with him. It was routine at this point, for her to randomly disappear at a moment’s notice and make up for it later. y/n knew that Harvey was suspicious of it, but being him, he never openly questioned her. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey, missed me?” y/n greeted Harvey as she approached him from behind. He chuckled as he turned to watch her approach him. He gestured to the empty seat beside him, even dragging out the chair with one arm. He beamed with excitement at how gracefully she sat down, forgetting the homework he was engaged in to simply admire her. He could smell her perfume, relishing in its sweet and savory scent. But, he could also smell a hint of antiseptic. He was about to brush it off before his eyes trailed to the hand that was not resting on the table. y/n had a bandage wrapped around her wrist. 

“Not like it's your first time bailing on me, but regardless, I did,” Harvey replied. Before y/n had an opportunity to speak again, he pointed at the bandage asking, “What happened?”

y/n was at a loss for words. She didn’t want Harvey to be involved in this ever-deepening abyss of troubles, so she had to come up with a white lie. Fast. “Uh..y’know how clumsy I can be. I–I fell on it.”

Harvey raised an eyebrow, having known the girl long and well enough that she was lying. Though, seeing her sullen state he kept suppressed his urge to know the truth. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t lied to her either. She’d tell him whenever she was ready, till then, he was willing to wait. 

“So, you’re probably wondering about last night.” Harvey nodded. “Well, I went into the city. This time, I got lost, and by the time I realized I didn’t know where I was going, the sun had already gone down. Somehow Bruce found me and we ended up waiting at the bridge for a ride.” It was just vague enough to not reveal what y/n had actually been doing there, but just informative enough to not have Harvey need to question her. The perfect cover. 

“Uh-huh.” Harvey held his tongue. y/n looked visibly tired and he didn’t have the heart to push her any further, no matter how suspicious she was being. 

She moved her hands over his, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. Harvey’s cheeks reddened as he observed her movements, holding back the desire to lean closer to her until they touched. Just as she had done, he wanted to embrace her. Not just her fingers, her whole being. He wanted to comfort her, be her knight in shining armor. The more he looked into her eyes, the more he saw a reflection of what could be. But her touch brought him back to reality as she squeezed his hands in a comforting motion. 

“And you? What happened between you and Bruce?” She stared at him. When she was met with silence, she began to withdraw herself establishing, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s alright.”

Before she could fully retract her hands from his, he interlaced his fingers with hers, pulling her even closer than she was before. “No, no, I want to tell you y/n. It's just…hard to talk about.”

Harvey took in a few deep breaths before starting, “Here goes. Before I came to the Academy, I didn’t live the same way I do now. I–My father was an alcoholic. My mother’s death was something he always seemed to dwell on and the anger that came from it was taken out on his health and me. He had a thing. He would flip a coin to decide whether he should…hurt me or not. One day I just couldn’t take the beatings anymore and I trapped him in his room for a few days. I know what I did was wrong, and nothing excuses that, but I don’t regret it. When the police finally freed my father, he got so mad he sent me the the Arkham Boys Rehabilitation Home upstate. 

“That’s when I met, rather, befriended Bruce. We shared a similar drive fueled by hatred. We became good friends and even made a pact of sorts. Someday we’d kill each other’s enemy–I’d kill Joe Chill, the man who murdered Bruce’s parents, and he’d kill my father. Then a while later, when I went home, my fath–dad, he turned over a new leaf. Even reminting the bastard coin that he’d used to determine my fate so that it would have only two heads. It was meant to be a symbol of how his only side, from then on, would be his good side. He stayed true to his words since then and I truly believe that he’s become a better man. Bruce though, he doesn’t believe in second chances. When I backed out of our ‘pact’ he thought I was being naive. He was truly angry, and he took out that fury by ignoring me. And even though he doesn’t seem to remember it, I still believe that the monster is still inside of him. The one fueling the bitter, cold heart he has now. It’s dangerous, and I don’t want you involved with that. Please y/n, I want you to be safe.”

y/n lifted her hands from his, dragged her chair until it touched his, and hugged him. In her embrace, he felt soothed allowing a tear to slip from his eyes.“Thank you, for trusting me. I’m happy for you Harv, I’m glad you got your happy ending.”

y/n patted her hand on his back, caressing him. It felt right, having him in her arms as she continued to whisper into his ear, “It’s ok, don’t worry about me. After all, I’ve got you, my Apollo.”

Her Apollo. Harvey was practically red as a tomato, gushing at her precious words. He has liked y/n for years now. And now was the perfect opportunity to tell her. He had to tell her. He had to say the three little words that have haunted him for years. I love you. In the intimacy of each other's arms, he could have her, finally. Before he could utter the words resting on the tip of his tongue, another voice beat him to it. 

“y/n.” Bruce had found his way behind her. Upon hearing his voice, she shot up, out of Harvey’s touch, and sat as straight as a ladder. Sitting between the boys she could feel the intensity of the glares they sent each other. Attempting to disarm the situation, she turned to face Bruce, giving him full attention as they discussed something.

Harvey couldn’t care less about what they were talking about, but he did feel a pang of envy. For Bruce to steal her attention in a heartbeat, and catch her flustered, was a rarity for Harvey. But it got him thinking, this was just the kind of world he was born into. The kind where people take and refuse to give. Where the hurt can only be scarred. Bruce lay a testament to that, while Harvey became an exception. What would it do to y/n?

The line between the rich and the poor was no man’s land and the people who crossed it were bound to get hurt. y/n wasn’t weak, but he couldn’t bear to see her suffer. He wanted to protect her, and it seemed that the only way he could do that was by keeping his love to himself. Better for him to stay by her side than overcomplicate things with labels.

˖ ࣪🦇𓆰♡𓆪🦇ִ ࣪⋆

taglist: @earth-to-name

m1ckeyb3rry’s blue lock masterlist

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White Butterfly | Hiori x Reader

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Word count: 2600+

Warnings: swearing, otherwise mostly fluff

Part XXVI | Part XXVIII

Next few days it rained just as Tamlin had predicted. Thanks to him you had enough food, the only problem was the fast running out herbs. Not wanting to go out, it was a great chance to practice your magic abilities. High Lord always sat down with you, watching over you. Whenever you had trouble, he offered advice. It wasn't easy after so many years of not using your powers, but it was fun and the two of you laughed a lot when things didn't turn the way you wanted them.

Except of that there was nothing much to do. You couldn't go out and moreover as a result of your reckless run in the rain you caught a cold, so looking out the window and wishing the downpour finally stopped was all you were allowed to do.

Tamlin banned you from the kitchen, making you sit whole day in front of the hearth while he took care of everything. Including you. He wouldn't even let you go up the stairs on your own. You suspected that if he wanted he could cure you with a single snap of fingers, but for some reason he didn't want to. But you couldn't complain at all.

It was pleasant to have somebody to care for you, especially when they did it with such love. Every refilling of your mug was accompanied by kiss on crown of your head and kind smile. Every fixing of the blanket or handing you a book, got you a soft, sweet kiss on cheek and gentle caress. No need to say that you actually spent more time sitting on his lap than on your own. Your chest swelled every time Tamlin slipped into your armchair, pulling you to his strong body.

Bad weather also gave you a lot of time to talk, to really talk about things that bothered you. You patiently listened to his life story, about his family, years in father's army and everything that hurt him while Amarantha pushed him to sacrifice his friends, made him watch the death of so many innocent lives right before his eyes and then just for fun tortured girl he liked and even killed her. He told you about what happened after Amarantha died, all the nightmares that haunted him for months, the echo of the crack of neck that followed him every second of every day. He intentionally skipped the part about your brother being an ass, but you already heard about it from Feyre.

You knew he didn't want you to pity him and you tried not to, but it was hard. You reassured him that he did all he could to protect his Court and held him when you were short for words.

When it was your turn to share pieces of you, well, you didn't have much to say. Your family wasn't perfect, but it wasn't as bad as Tamlin's. Your mother, cousin, brother and his friends made sure you had a quite happy childhood and the only really bad, traumatic thing that happened to you, was the night you lost your mother and your memories.

"Tamlin, I want to thank you," you whispered into the crook of his neck when your tears finally dried. He was gently rocking you while drawing circles on your back with his warm hand. "If it wasn't for you, I would be dead."

He shook his head dismissively. His body was tense as you shared what you saw that night, his jaw still clenched, tips of his claws slightly jabbing the skin of your hip where he held you. You couldn't see his face from this angle, but you could imagine his frown, cold emerald eyes full of hate and rage gazing into the dancing flames. He looked like that when he told you about his father and brothers. All those years when he tried not to get in their way, keeping it low to survive, left a lot of hatred and anger in him. "I could do more. I-"

"You did enough," you stopped him. "I'm alive just because you were there. You aren't responsible for whatever happened to me afterwards."

He looked down at you in disbelieve. "I knew they had somebody in dungeons. I should have done something, help you escape."

He leaned to the side, putting as much distance as possible in between you which wasn't much in your current position. His hands fell to armrests, claws fully slid out. "It doesn't matter what they would have done to me."

"I thought that we already talked about this, but never mind," you spoke calmly with a soft sigh. "Let's say you went down there and helped me get out. What would have happened to you after that? They would have punished you or even worse."

"It matters..a lot.. To me, it matters.."

He watched you out of the corner of his eye and then sighing pulled you into another hug. He looked defeated.

"We can't change the past, Tamlin. But I'm glad you didn't go down there to find out what your father was up to. If you did, I might have never met you again. And we wouldn't be here now, holding each other."

At that moment air crackled with static energy and Rhysand winnowed in.

"Horrible weather," he grunted, shaking drops of rain from his cloak. Last few days he was too busy and only sent you messages. You didn't expect him to appear anytime soon.

Rhys looked around, his gaze fell to you watching him with wide eyes from Tamlin's lap. He froze in shock, his face colour changing from warm tanned to white and then to red.

"Hands off of my sister," he hissed. "Just a few days! I don't show up for few fucking days and you already dare to touch her? Like this?"

Tamlin sighed looking away and without a word began to gently push you from his lap so he could stand up. You knew he couldn't stand your brother's visits and rather disappeared on the second floor, but you needed to put a stop to this stupid situation. You clung to him, holding him in place. He raised a brow at you, but you only smiled at him.

"You didn't knock," you said in sweet voice to Rhysand whose eyes were jumping between you and High Lord of Spring.

"What?" He sputtered angrily.

"Do you remember when we talked about finding happiness?" You were calm as you looked up at him. His talons scratched the walls around your mind and you let him in.

What does this mean, sweetheart? I'd love you to stand up. Now.

Rhys, I'm happy.

You could feel flush spreading on your cheeks. Talking about this kind of feelings was something you'd never done with your brother nor he mentioned his lovers to you in the past. It was probably the only border you two kept intact.

What?! With him? You can't be serious. If you want a High Lord we can try to figure something out. But you.. and him.. Rhys' voice in your head was almost pleading.

I don't want a High Lord. I don't care about such things at all and you know that very well. I-.. I have feelings for him, Rhys. Do you.. understand? He might be my happy ending.

Admitting this much, you were too shy to even look your brother in eyes.

Meanwhile Tamlin stayed still, watching you with concern. Hands that he respectively put on armrests in presence of your brother, inched closer.

"Everything okay?" he murmured, so only you heard him. You nodded.

Rhysand left your mind and silently considered something. Hands at his sides curled into fists, his knuckles white.

"Can I have a word with you?" he asked Tamlin after a while. He frowned at him, but nodded. This time you let him stand up, watching as the two stepped out into the rain. You couldn't help it and sneaked closer to the front door. Through window you could see Rhysand pacing in the rain back and forth, fingers running through his already damp hair. Tamlin stood on doorstep, arms crossed on his chest, his back to you.

Rhysand stopped pacing and turned to him. "Do you like her?"

Tamlin nodded.

"C'mon," Rhys grunted, rolling his eyes. "I mean, do you really like her? No games, no.. getting back on me or something like that..?"

He again only nodded, no words. Rhysand stared him down, gritting his teeth.

"I love her, Rhysand," Tamlin finally spoke so lowly you almost didn't hear him over the sound of rain. "She is my everything."

Your heart swelled. He said that he loved you. Aloud. You talked a lot these last few days, but except of the 'I like you' he told you before, he hadn't expressed his feelings so directly. It was all just small lovely gestures here, soft kisses everywhere except of your lips there. Hearing him to express his feelings so openly brought tears to your eyes.

"I really hope you mean it," Rhysand snarled threateningly. "If you ever even try to think about hurting her-"

"I know. You'll find a way to revenge. I already heard that once before."

In a blink of eye Rhys stood in front of Tamlin, fisting the front of his shirt. His violet-blue eyes shone dangerously. "I'm not joking. Your kin already took me whole my family. She is the only one left. I won't silently watch her being used, hurt and thrown away by any male."

"I will never do any of that," Tamlin hissed in answer, his chest vibrating with growl, but otherwise he hadn't moved an inch, glaring down on your brother. He was just a few centimetres taller than him, but his frame was much sturdier, especially his upper body.

"Good," Rhys released his shirt still glaring at him and stepped back. "You better remember that."

Then he looked straight at you. See you next time, sweetheart. If anything, send me a message. You know how.

"Take very, very good care of her, Tam. She is the most precious person in the world." And with that he was gone.

Tamlin shook his head and grunting something under his breath he opened the door. As soon as he was inside, you rushed to him and squeezed him in firm embrace. Without thinking you stood up on your tiptoes and your lips landed on his. He went rigid, eyes widening.

You realized what you'd done and in shame started to pull away. Tamlin's hand clasped the back of your head and holding you in place his lips parted slightly and brushed over yours. So slowly, he claimed them in tender kiss, not rushing anywhere. Heart thundering in your chest, you kissed him back.

After a minute or two when your lungs burned with lack of oxygen, he broke the kiss and looked down at you, all flushed with glazed eyes. His fingertips brushed away an unruly strand of hair from your face, sliding down to your jaw.

He moved so fast you didn't see it. His next kiss was nothing like the first one. It was wild and hot and needy, war of lips, teeth and tongues. He kissed you like a starving man, devouring and exploring every inch of your mouth, sucking out all air from you.

One of his hands travelled down your body to your hip, his fingers digging into your flesh. You moaned into his mouth drawing a growl from him. Your back arched, chest brushing against the chest. There was no time to take a gulp of air and you were starting to feel light-headed.

Before you could pass out he pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours, eyes closed. Both of you were heaving heavily, lips swollen.

"Gods," you whispered and he laughed, his breath fanning your face. You were drunk on his scent, now suffocatingly stronger.

"You taste like strawberries." He pecked your cheek, lips trailing to your jaw and down the column of your neck to the shoulder. He didn't miss even that sensitive spot under your ear. You bit on your lower lip, holding back another moan.

"Say it again," you pleaded breathlessly.

"What? About the strawberries?" he smile into your skin.

"No. What you told to Rhys."

"Aah, you mean that part that I won't hurt you."

"No, not that."

"Then what?" He was teasing you while his lips and hands explored your body.

"You are such a tease. The other thing you told him."

"Hmm," he pretended to think about it, his mouth slowly returning back to the spot under your ear. He licked the sensitive skin and lightly nipped at it. The moan escaped you before you could stop it. "You mean the 'love you' part?"

You hummed in agreement, unable to think straight with his soft lips playing with your earlobe while whispering words in hoarse deep voice that made your toes curl.

Tamlin stopped teasing you and scanning your face with interest, he waited until you opened your eyes and focused. He caressed your cheek with feather-light touch, fingers barely touching you. The other arm held you firmly to his body. You could feel every shift of his muscles. Bright emerald eyes found yours.

"I love you, Y/N," he said little nervously. "From bottom of my heart, I love you."

Your heart skipped few beats and you closed your eyes again. It wasn't the first time somebody confessed to you, but this was so different. It felt so right as if you were born only for this, waiting for him your entire life.

You ran your fingers along his shoulder blades, ends of his golden hair tickling your knuckles. You inhaled deeply and found his gaze.

"I love you, Tamlin," you breathed out.

"Thank the Mother," his tense shoulders relaxed a little, "I already thought you won't say it."

You huffed amused. He leaned down and gave you a peck, licked his bottom lip and gave you another and another and soon you were kissing again. His chest vibrated with growl.

"I dreamt about this so many times, but it's actually much better than I imagined."

"You dreamt about this?" You quirked a brow, nuzzling to his neck.

Muscle in his jaw flexed. "I did. Every night when I couldn't sleep, I tried to imagine holding you like this and kissing you."

You giggled. "Liar. You made it up now."

He laughed, the sound echoing in that broad chest of his. You snuggled to him even closer, enjoying the beautiful sound. "No, I didn't."

You blushed so fiercely you were glad he couldn't see your face.

"Shouldn't we make some dinner?" you asked after a while.

"No," his hands nestled on your waist. "You should go sit down and wrap up into blanket while I prepare something to eat."

He started to gently push you back towards your armchair.

"Nooo," you pleaded. "I sat all day long. I want to do something too."

"Fine," he cooed adding a log to fire. He snapped fingers and a tome fell into your lap. You immediately read its title, your fingers already prickling with curiosity. "Will you read to me while I cook then?"

"Seriously?" You pouted. He just nodded, chuckling. He knew you loved reading and used your weakness against you, knowing you wouldn't be able to resist. You opened the book on the first page, eager to find out what kind of story Tamlin chose and started reading it aloud.

You only stopped to eat and then Tamlin took the book and read to you until you fell asleep on his lap. Marking your progress he put the book aside. Carefully he picked you up and carried you to the bed. Throwing the blanket over you, he snuggled up to you, kissed your forehead and smiling fell asleep.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot @acourtofimagines @harahettania @talesofadragon @ceoofyearning @little-nightowl