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harrysfolklore · 5 months ago

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birthdays - cl16

summary: charles and yn's love story spans over two decades, beginning when they meet at charles' 6th birthday party, where she promised to be there for all of his birthdays. wc: 4.6k

folkie radio: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY MAIN BOY 🥹🥹 a few years ago i wrote a fic like this for harry and it’s one of my favorite things i’ve posted so i felt like doing a charles version! i hope you like this as much as i do <3

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

6th birthday

The sun shone brightly over Monaco as YN and her mother walked down the tree-lined street. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the salty breeze from the nearby Mediterranean. The little girl clutched her mother's hand tightly, her eyes wide as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings of their new neighborhood.

"Are you excited for the party, sweetheart?" her mother asked, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

She nodded hesitantly. "But what if the other kids don't like me?"

"Don't worry, darling. I'm sure you'll make friends in no time," her mother assured her as they approached a beautiful villa with colorful balloons tied to the gate.

As they entered the backyard, they were greeted by the sight of children running around, laughter filling the air. A large bounce house dominated one corner, while a face-painting station was set up near the house. Tables adorned with race car-themed decorations were scattered around, laden with snacks and party favors.

A warm voice caught their attention. "Welcome! You must be our new neighbors."

YN looked up to see a kind-faced woman approaching them, a welcoming smile on her face.

"I'm Pascale Leclerc," she introduced herself, shaking her mother's hand. "And this must be YN! We're so glad you could make it."

She shyly hid behind her mother's leg, peeking out at Pascale.

"Charles!" Pascale called out. "Come here, darling. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

A small boy with tousled brown hair and bright blue eyes came running over, his cheeks flushed from playing.

"Charles, this is YN. She's new to the neighborhood," Pascale explained. "Why don't you introduce her to your friends?"

Charles grinned widely, revealing a missing front tooth. "Hi! Do you want to play with us? We're having a treasure hunt!"

She looked up at her mother, who nodded encouragingly. Slowly, she stepped out from behind her mother's leg.

"Okay," she said softly, "And happy birthday."

Charles's grin grew even wider. He reached out and took her hand. "Come on! I'll show you where we've found clues already!"

For the rest of the afternoon, YN found herself caught up in the excitement of the party. She and Charles searched for treasure and bounced in the bounce house. By the time the cake was brought out the little girl was laughing and chatting with her new friends as if she'd known them for years.

As the party began to wind down and parents started arriving to pick up their children, Charles approached YN, a serious look on his young face.

"YN," he said, "will you come to my other birthdays too?"

"Yes!" she nodded enthusiastically. "We should be friends!"

Charles's face lit up. "Best friends!" he declared, holding out his pinky.

The girl linked her pinky with his, sealing their newfound friendship. As she left the party, clutching a goody bag and wearing a bright smile, she knew she had found something special in her new home.

12th birthday

The wheels of their bicycles whirred as YN and Charles raced down the winding streets of Monaco. The sun beat down on them, but the breeze created by their speed kept them cool. YN's laughter echoed off the buildings as she pedaled harder, trying to keep up with Charles.

"Come on!” Charles called over his shoulder, a mischievous grin on his face. "We're going to be late for my own party!"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "It's your fault for insisting on this bike race, birthday boy!"

They skidded to a stop in front of Charles's house, both breathing heavily but grinning from ear to ear. The front yard was already bustling with activity - balloons bobbed in the breeze, and the chatter of arriving guests filled the air.

As they walked their bikes to the garage, YN nudged Charles with her elbow. "I can't believe you're twelve already. You're practically ancient."

Charles laughed, running a hand through his windswept hair. "Says the girl who's been twelve for a whole two months. Come on, I smell cake!"

The party was in full swing, with kids from their school playing games and enjoying the sunny day. Charles's parents had outdone themselves this year, setting up a mini go-kart track in the backyard. The birthday boy, of course, was the undisputed champion, zipping around the track with a skill that left his friends in awe.

As the afternoon wore on, everyone gathered around a large table. In the center stood a cake, decorated to look like a Formula 1 car, complete with Charles' lucky number on the side. Twelve candles flickered atop the cake, their flames dancing in the gentle breeze.

Charles's eyes widened as his parents brought out the cake and the guests began to sing "Happy Birthday," their voices rising in a cheerful chorus. YN sang along enthusiastically, watching her best friend's face light up with joy.

As the song came to an end, Charles took a deep breath. With a determined look in his eye, he leaned forward and blew out all twelve candles in one go.

While Charles's mother began cutting the cake, YN edged closer to her best friend. "So," she said with a grin, "what did you wish for? To finally beat me in Mario Kart?"

Charles glanced around conspiratorially before leaning in close. "I wished to win the Monaco Grand Prix one day," he confessed, his green eyes sparkling with dreams of future glory.

YN's smile softened. Even after six years of friendship, Charles's passion for racing never failed to impress her.

"Wow," she said. "That's a pretty big wish."

"It's my biggest dream. But you can't tell anyone, okay? Or it won't come true."

"Your secret's safe with me," she promised. Then, struck by a sudden thought, she held out her pinky finger. "Hey, remember when we promised to be friends forever at your sixth birthday?"

"Of course!" Charles's face lit up with recognition, "Best decision I ever made," he said, linking his pinky with hers.

"Well, let's renew that promise. Friends forever, no matter what. That way, when you win the Monaco Grand Prix, I'll be right there cheering you on."

"Deal," Charles agreed, shaking their linked pinkies. "Forever friends."

As they sealed their promise for the second time, both of them felt the weight of it. At twelve, forever seemed like an awfully long time, but neither could imagine a future without the other in it.

16th birthday

The Italian sun was setting, painting the sky in orange and pink as YN made her way through the bustling paddock. The air smelt of rubber and gasoline, the sounds of engines filling her ears. She clutched a small, wrapped package in her hands, her eyes scanning the team garages for a familiar face.

Finally, she spotted him - Charles was standing next to his Formula 3 car, deep in conversation with his engineer. Even from a distance, she could see the intensity in his eyes, the determination set in his jaw. At sixteen, Charles was no longer the little boy she'd met at that birthday party a decade ago. He was taller now, leaner, with the beginnings of stubble on his chin.

"Charles!" she called out, waving to catch his attention.

His head snapped up at the sound of her voice, and his serious expression melted into a wide grin. "YN! You made it!" He excused himself from his engineer and jogged over to her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Of course I made it," YN laughed, returning the embrace, "I couldn't miss your birthday, even if you insisted on spending it at a racetrack in Italy."

Charles pulled back, his eyes shining with excitement. "I'm so glad you're here. Come on, let me show you around."

As they walked through the paddock, Charles pointed out different teams and drivers, explaining the intricacies of Formula 3 racing. She listened intently, asking questions and marveling at how much Charles had grown not just in stature, but in knowledge and passion for his sport.

They ended up in Charles' team garage, where a small cake sat on a tool cart, a single candle stuck in the center.

"The team got it for me," Charles explained, looking a bit embarrassed. "They said we had to have something, even if we're not having a proper party."

YN smiled softly. "Well, then we better make it count." She lit the candle and started singing "Happy Birthday," her voice soon joined by the mechanics and other team members who had gathered around.

Charles blew out the candle, his cheeks slightly flushed. As the cake was being cut and distributed, YN handed him her gift.

"It's not much," she said as he unwrapped it, "but I thought you might like it."

Inside was a leather-bound journal, the cover embossed with Charles' initials.

"I thought you could use it to write down your thoughts, your goals… maybe even your future Formula 1 strategies," she explained with a wink.

Charles's eyes lit up. "This is perfect. Thank you." He pulled her into another hug, this one lasting a bit longer than usual.

As they sat on the pit wall, eating cake and watching the sun set over the track, YN turned to Charles. "So, how does it feel? Being here, racing in Formula 3… you're so close to your dream now."

Charles nodded, his expression turning serious. "It feels amazing, but also a bit scary. Everything's happening so fast, you know? Sometimes I worry…"

"Worry about what?" she prompted gently.

"That I might not be good enough," Charles sighed, "That I'll let everyone down."

"Charles, look at me," YN reached out and took his hand, when he met her eyes, she continued, "You are the most talented, dedicated person I know. You're going to make it to Formula 1, and you're going to be amazing."

"You really think so?" a small smile tugged at Charles's lips.

"I know so," she affirmed,then, with a playful nudge, she added, "Just promise me one thing?"

"Anything," Charles replied without hesitation.

"When you make it to Formula 1 and become a big star, don't forget about me, okay?"

Charles's expression softened, and for a moment, YN thought she saw something flicker in his eyes - something more than just friendship. But before she could analyze it, he squeezed her hand and said, "I could never forget about you. No matter what happens, you'll always be my best friend."

What YN didn't know was that in that moment, Charles was fighting the urge to tell her how he really felt. That she wasn't just his best friend, but the girl he had fallen in love with years ago.

But the timing wasn't right, not yet.

So he pushed the feelings down, locked them away. There would be time for matters of the heart later. For now, he had a championship to win and a birthday to celebrate - with his best friend by his side, just as she'd always been.

21st birthday

The Monaco night was alive with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses. Charles Leclerc's 21st birthday party was in full swing at a rooftop bar overlooking the Mediterranean.

The who's who of the racing world mingled with Charles' friends and family, all gathered to celebrate the young Sauber driver's birthday.

YN stood at the edge of the crowd, nursing a glass of champagne as she watched Charles work the room. He moved with an easy confidence, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with team principals and fellow drivers. Yet every few minutes, his eyes would scan the crowd until they found her, and he'd flash her a quick smile before returning to his conversations.

As the night wore on, YN found herself on the balcony, enjoying a moment of quiet away from the party. The view of Monaco at night was breathtaking - the lights of the city twinkled below, mirroring the stars above.

"There you are," a familiar voice said behind her. "I've been looking for you."

She turned to see Charles approaching, two fresh glasses of champagne in his hands. He handed one to her before leaning on the balcony railing beside her.

"Sorry," she said with a small smile. "I just needed a bit of air. It's quite a party in there."

"Yeah, I think the team might have gone a bit overboard," Charles chuckled, "But I'm glad you're here."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping their champagne and looking out over the city.

"So," YN said finally, turning to face him. "How does it feel to be 21? Official adult now, Formula 1 driver… you're living the dream, Charles."

Charles's expression turned thoughtful. "It feels… surreal, honestly. Sometimes I can't believe this is my life." He paused, then added softly, "But you know what the best part is?"

"What's that?"

Charles turned to face her, his green eyes intense in the moonlight. "That you're still here. After all these years, all these changes… you're still by my side."

YN felt her heart skip a beat at the earnestness in his voice. "Of course I am, Charles. I'll always be here for you. We made a promise, remember? Best friends forever."

Charles felt his heart race at her words. "Best friends forever." The phrase that had once brought him so much comfort now felt like a bittersweet reminder of the feelings he'd been harboring for so long.

As he looked at her, bathed in the soft glow of the Monaco night, memories flooded his mind. He thought of her cheering him on at his first go-kart race, of late-night study sessions where he'd catch himself staring at her instead of his textbooks, of the way his heart had leapt when she'd surprised him at his race in Italy on his 16th birthday. He realized he couldn't pinpoint exactly when he'd fallen in love with her because, in a way, he always had been.

The weight of his unspoken feelings suddenly felt unbearable. The thought of going another day, another year, without her knowing the truth seemed impossible. Charles took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do.

"YN," he said softly, setting down his champagne glass and taking her free hand in his. "There's something I need to tell you."

She looked up at him, curiosity and a hint of something else – was it hope? – in her eyes. "What is it, Charles?"

Charles swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his ears. "You're right, we did make a promise to be best friends forever. And you are my best friend, YN. You're the person who knows me better than anyone else in the world. But..." he paused, gathering his courage. "But you're not just my best friend. You're the one I'm in love with. I always have been."

YN's eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. Charles pressed on, unable to stop now that he'd started.

"I can't hold back anymore. I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember. Every success and failure, every moment of doubt or triumph – you're the one I want to share it all with. Not just as my friend, but as... as more."

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "I know this might change everything between us, and if you don't feel the same way, I understand. But I couldn't let another birthday go by without telling you the truth. You're it for me, YN. You always have been."

For a moment that felt like an eternity, she stood frozen, her eyes locked with Charles's. The weight of his words hung in the air between them, charged with years of unspoken feelings and shared history.

Then, without warning, YN closed the distance between them. She reached up, cupping Charles's face in her hands, and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. Charles, caught off guard for only a split second, wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as he returned the kiss with equal fervor.

When they finally parted, both slightly breathless, YN rested her forehead against Charles'. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears of joy as she whispered, "I love you too, Charles. I think I always have."

Charles felt his heart soar, a smile spreading across his face that was brighter than any he'd ever worn on a podium. "Really?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder and hope.

She nodded, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "Really. I just... I never thought you'd feel the same way. You're Charles, I'm just-"

"You're everything," Charles interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. "You're my best friend, my biggest supporter, the person I want to share every moment with. You're the one who knows all of me, not just the racer, but the boy who still gets nervous before every race and who can't sleep without his lucky charm."

YN smiled, remembering the small trinket she'd given him years ago that he still kept with him at every race. "We've been quite oblivious, haven't we?" she said, shaking her head in amusement.

Charles chuckled, pulling her close again. "Maybe. But we have all the time in the world to make up for it now."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms with the twinkling lights of Monaco as their backdrop, both felt as though they were exactly where they were meant to be. The sounds of the party drifted out to them, a reminder of the celebration waiting inside, but for now, they were content in their own world.

"Happy birthday, Charles," YN murmured, leaning in for another kiss.

Charles smiled against her lips. "Best birthday ever," he replied before closing the distance between them once more.

24th birthday

The sun was setting over Monaco as YN stood in front of the mirror, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She smoothed down her dress, a sleek number in Charles' favorite shade of red. As she fastened her earrings, she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist from behind.

"You look absolutely stunning," Charles murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder and meeting her eyes in the mirror.

She smiled, leaning back into his embrace. "You clean up pretty well yourself, birthday boy," she replied, taking in his sharp suit and perfectly styled hair.

Charles pressed a soft kiss to the curve of her neck, causing her to shiver slightly. "You know," he said, his voice low and playful, "we could always skip the party. Stay here, just the two of us…"

"Nice try, Leclerc," YN laughed, turning in his arms to face him, "But your team worked hard on this party, and all your friends and family are waiting." She reached up, straightening his tie. "Besides, I put a lot of effort into your gift. I want to see your face when you open it."

"Oh? Any hints about what it might be?" Charles' eyes lit up with curiosity.

"Not a chance," YN grinned, tapping his nose playfully. "You'll just have to wait and see."

He pouted for a moment before breaking into a warm smile. "Fine, keep your secrets. As long as I have you by my side, that's all the gift I need."

YN felt her heart melt at his words. Even after all these years, Charles still had the ability to make her feel like the luckiest girl in the world. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"I love you," she whispered against his mouth.

"I love you too," Charles replied, deepening the kiss for a moment before reluctantly pulling away. "But you're right, we should get going. We don't want to be late to my own party."

As they drove through the winding streets of Monaco, the city lights twinkling like stars, YN couldn't help but steal glances at Charles. Suddenly, she noticed that they were heading away from the bustling city center.

"Charles?" she asked, a hint of confusion in her voice. "I think we're going the wrong way. The party's downtown, isn't it?"

Charles smiled mysteriously, his eyes never leaving the road. "I thought we'd take a little detour first. Trust me?"

"Always."

They drove in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, the familiar sights of Monaco giving way to a quieter, more residential area. Finally, Charles pulled up in front of a beautiful house, its elegant facade bathed in the glow of streetlights.

"Charles, what are we doing here?" YN asked as he came around to open her door.

He took her hand, helping her out of the car. "I have something to show you," he said softly, leading her towards the house.

As they approached the front door, Charles pulled out a key. YN's eyes widened in surprise. "Charles, is this...?"

He unlocked the door and gently guided her inside. The house was empty, but even in the dim light, she could see its potential - high ceilings, large windows, and an open floor plan that seemed to invite warmth and laughter.

Charles watched her take it all in, his heart pounding with nervous excitement. Finally, he spoke.

"YN, from the moment I met you, you've been my home. No matter where I am in the world, no matter what challenges I face on the track, you're my constant. My safe haven."

She turned to face him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Charles continued, his voice thick with emotion. "But I realized that while you've given me a home in your heart, I've never been able to offer you a physical place that's truly ours. Until now."

He took both of her hands in his. "This house... I bought it for us. I want it to be our home. A place where we can build our future together, where we can come back to after long days or weeks apart. A place filled with our love and hopefully... our family someday."

Tears were now flowing freely down YN's cheeks. "Charles," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"I know my career keeps us traveling a lot," he said, reaching up to wipe away her tears gently. "But I want you to have roots, a place that's ours. Where you can always feel safe and loved, even when I'm not there."

YN let out a watery laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "You never cease to amaze me, Charles Leclerc. This is... it's perfect. It's more than I ever dreamed of."

"So, what do you say?" Charles pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers, "Ready to start our next chapter here?"

Instead of answering with words, she closed the gap between them, pouring all her love and gratitude into a passionate kiss. When they finally parted, both breathless, she whispered, "Yes. A thousand times, yes."

They stood there in the empty house that would soon become their home, holding each other close. The party, the guests, the whole world outside ceased to exist for a moment. It was just the two of them, standing on the threshold of their future together.

After a while, Charles chuckled softly. "You know, we're probably very late for the party now."

"I know," she said, her voice still thick with emotion, "It's supposed to be me giving you gifts on your birthday, not the other way around."

Charles chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, I've never been very good at following rules," he teased. "Besides, seeing your face when I showed you our home? That's the best gift I could ever receive."

YN shook her head, a warm smile playing on her lips. "You're impossible, you know that? But I love you for it."

"And I love you, for as long as I can remember."

27th birthday

Charles stood on the balcony of their home, the same one he had surprised YN with three years ago. His fingers absently traced the outline of a small velvet box in his pocket, his heart racing with anticipation and nerves.

Inside, he could hear her moving about, putting the finishing touches on his birthday dinner. The aroma of his favorite dishes filled the air, bringing a smile to his face. At 27, Charles had achieved more than he ever dreamed possible – multiple Formula 1 wins, a strong contender for the championship, and most importantly, a life shared with his best friend and the love of his life.

"Charles?" her voice called from inside. "Dinner's ready!"

He took a deep breath, patting the ring box one last time before heading inside. The dining room was bathed in soft candlelight, the table set beautifully with their best china. YN stood by the table, looking radiant in a deep red dress that matched the color he wore on race days.

"Happy birthday, my love," she said softly, pulling him into a tender kiss.

As they sat down to eat, Charles couldn't help but marvel at how far they'd come. "You know," he said, reaching across the table to take her hand, "I was just thinking about my sixth birthday party."

"The day we met," she said with a warm smile. "How could I forget? I was so nervous about moving to a new place."

Charles chuckled, remembering the shy little girl who had hidden behind her mother's leg. "And now look at us. Twenty-one years later, and you're still the best gift I've ever received."

YN felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. "I remember you asked me to come to all your future birthdays," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

"And you've been here for every single one," Charles replied, his green eyes shining with love.

The weight of the ring box in Charles' pocket seemed to grow heavier, but he resisted the urge to pull it out just yet. Tonight was about celebrating. The proposal could wait for another perfect moment.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he continued, "but I thank my lucky stars every day that you walked into that birthday party all those years ago. You've made every birthday since then more special than the last."

"Oh, Charles," she whispered, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "You've given me more than I ever dreamed possible. That little girl who was so scared of not fitting in found her home in you."

They came together in a kiss that was soft and sweet, yet filled with the depth of their shared history and the promise of their future. As they held each other close, both were transported back to that sunny day in Monaco, two six-year-olds making a promise of friendship that had blossomed into a love story for the ages.

When they finally pulled apart, Charles rested his forehead against hers, a soft smile playing on his lips. "So," he said, his voice light but filled with emotion, "think you might stick around for a few more birthdays?"

YN laughed, the sound like music to Charles' ears. "Just try and keep me away, Leclerc. You're stuck with me for all your birthdays, forever and always."

As they finished their dinner, Charles felt the ring box in his pocket once more. Soon, he thought, he'd ask her to make it official, to promise him not just all his birthdays, but every day in between.

But for now, he was content to bask in the glow of their love, celebrating not just his 27th birthday, but the incredible journey they'd shared.

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bbydoll18xx · 8 months ago

Text

She's Such a Good Girl

You move in across the hall from Paige Bueckers. It doesn’t take long before she tries to shatter your innocent persona. And you just let her.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Themes: reader is a shy lil baby, a few inappropriate thoughts, paige being a huge flirt

Masterlist

A/N: hiii cuties! So I had a few ideas I've been toying around with, so I merged them together and came up with this. Also the third part of 'I Can Do It With a Broken Heart' will hopefully be out soon but I'm still trying to figure out the direction I want to take it in. Enjoy!

Your breaths are ragged as you lug your final suitcase through the front door of your new apartment. It was your senior year at UCONN, and you and your roommates had been assigned a new apartment, which you were ecstatic about. Long gone were the days of being squished into an old dorm room. And you were very excited about the lack of noise, which had kept you from your much needed 10 hours of sleep the past few years.

The August heat was stifling, but you welcomed the cool air coming through the vents, as you began organizing your new bedroom to perfection. Eagerness bubbled in your chest as you thought about your upcoming year before graduation. You’d finally be free.

College was supposed to be the time to find yourself before being inevitably dragged into the cruel pits of the real world. It was the time to go wild, get drunk often, and maybe even meet the love of your life. But you had spent your weekends studying and fine tuning the ‘good girl’ persona that you had adopted when you were a child.

You were the eldest daughter with a raging people pleasing complex, and it was starting to feel like your downfall. Your two roommates had found adoring boyfriends, and they often found themselves drunk as hell on the weekends, reveling in being young and carefree. You were growing to hate your crippling shyness.

You’d be lying if you said your lack of experience hadn’t started to weigh on you. You really wanted to learn how to put yourself out there. But you were dreadfully shy, and the idea of dating or hooking up was terrifying. Your innocence was fucking embarrassing. How would you explain to someone that you were a virgin? And what if they thought you were too timid to be good in bed?

So you just continued on as you had been throughout college; you studied, and you buried yourself in your imagination, and you prayed and hoped that someone would be willing to overlook all of your own insecurities.

Your thoughts of pity are interrupted by your two roommates calling your name. You walk out of your bedroom into the living room where the two girls are sharing shiteating grins, and you send them a questioning look.

“You’ll never guess who is across the hall from us,” Sarah says slyly, causing a pang of worry to shoot through your chest. The smirk on her face grew as you asked who it was.

“Paige Bueckers,” your other roommate, Taylor, shrieks as your face turns bright red.

Fuck.

“You’re fucking joking, right?” You whisper, eyes automatically flitting towards your door.

“Nope! I saw her and Aubrey Griffin walk out of the apartment literally five minutes ago,” Taylor announces, laughing as you fall backwards onto the couch.

“This is not good,” you whine dramatically, hands covering your face.

“Now you can see her pretty face every day,” Sarah all but sings, taking great pleasure in how uncomfortable you felt.

You scoff in indignation. “I can see her pretty face every day from the safety and comfort of my phone. It’s not like I’m actually ever going to talk to her.”

Your roommates pout at your sheer stubbornness. They had been trying to get you out of your shell from the last few years, much to your displeasure.

“C’mon, you’re so hot. You could totally catch Paige’s eye. You gotta have more confidence, girl,” Taylor all but whines exasperatedly.

“Yeah, sure,” you snort derisively. “Maybe while I’m at it, I can rizz up Harry Styles.” You roll your eyes at their ridiculousness.

They sigh in unison, stopping their pleading.

“We’ll just have to see what happens,” Taylor says with a dramatic wink, causing you to stick out your tongue childishly.

“I have spent the last three years avoiding Paige Bueckers’ beauty. I can do it one more year.”

Little did you know, though, that it would become quite hard to avoid the tall blonde.

Friday evening rolls around quickly, and because it was the last weekend before classes started, the students were eager to party it up. You had hoped the apartment building would be quiet, empty from the throngs of students out partying elsewhere. But the girls of the basketball team had other ideas.

The last few days, you had seen multiple girls coming and going from Paige’s apartment. The noise had been loud, but nothing too crazy. It was well known that the girls often went live on tiktok or instagram, and you had heard their laughter across the hall last night. So far, though, the volume levels had maintained a respectable level.

You had obviously jinxed yourself by thinking that, as the laughter and music pounded through your own walls. The cacophonous sound sent you spiraling. If you wanted them to be quieter, you would have to go ask them to turn it down, and you hated confrontation.

But you were alone tonight, and if you wanted to go to sleep at a decent hour, that was your only option.

You move in front of the mirror in your bathroom, subconsciously fixing your hair and muttering words of encouragement to yourself. You could do this. Paige is just a regular person. Sure, she was ridiculously attractive, but she was just a girl.

You walk out of the apartment into the hallway, your heart pounding dangerously as you near the door. The volume was insane, and you felt momentarily sad that you were wasting your Friday night alone at home, while everyone was having the time of their lives.

You shake your head, internally chastising yourself for the brutal thoughts, and with all the courage you could muster up, you knock loudly on the door, hoping the basketball team could hear it through the noise.

A few moments pass, and you momentarily think you’re about to pass out before the door opens and you are met with the glorious face of Paige fucking Bueckers.

You gulp, immediately grabbing a lock of hair to play with, desperately attempting to mask your anxiety. You bite your lip and look up at her.

“H-hi,” you stutter, feeling the blush bloom in your cheeks. “I’m so sorry to bother you guys, but the music is a little loud.”

Paige's face morphs into a look of surprise. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. I told KK to turn it down, but no one listens to me around here,” she jokes. “You live across the hall, right? I’m Paige!”

Her friendliness doesn’t necessarily shock you; she was well known for being a genuinely kind person around campus, but the fact that she knew who you were does shock you.

“Uh, yeah I do.” You introduce yourself with a shy smile, growing warmer under her gaze.

“Why don’t you come hang with us?” She prods, gesturing towards the living room with a large grin on her beautiful fucking face.

Your carefully crafted plan to forget about Paige this year was crumbling around you. And before you could even begin to thinking about stopping yourself, you shyly accept her invitation.

There was no going back now.

Paige ushers you in, leading you into the chaos, where most of the basketball team were enthralled in making tiktoks.

As you walk in and stand next to Paige, you look around, all but staring at the tall girls. The whole basketball team was ridiculously attractive, and it made your shyness increase tenfold. Paige gets their attention, and their eyes turn to you as Paige introduces you.

“She just moved in across the hall. And I told you the music was too loud, KK,” Paige adds, sending a sharp look towards the younger girl.

She grins mischievously, walking up to you with the swagger you could only dream of having.

“Sorry, girly pop, we’ll keep it down next time,” KK says, sending you a wink. You giggle in response, feeling more at ease already.

Paige introduces you to the rest of the team. They’re all so friendly, and your nervous demeanor slowly melts away as you acclimate to their boisterousness. They take turns talking to you, but Paige stays beside you, never being more than an arms length away.

You weren’t going to read into it. But the little voice in your head was screaming in both apprehension and glee. In the same way, you did not want to leave her side. In an insanely short amount of time, her presence had become a comfort to you, and you weren’t quite ready to give that up yet. So despite it being well past your respectable bedtime, you powered through, Paige’s aura energizing you.

As you mused over your thoughts, Paige was stuck in her own head. She had seen you around campus before; your pretty face was a difficult one to forget, and she was secretly delighted when she had opened her door to reveal your timid face.

She was determined to break you out of your shell. Little did she know how much she would.

You look down at your phone a while later, and you’re shocked to see that it was just past midnight. You could not remember the last time you were out that late, and a yawn threatens to escape from the depths of your throat. You subtly rub at your eyes, and Paige doesn’t miss it.

She nudges you, and you look up to gaze at her bright blue eyes.

God, she was so pretty.

“You sleepy?” She asks teasingly, and you nod, a blush creeping up your neck again.

“I’m not used to staying up this late. I should probably head back home,” you say, regret lacing your words.

Paige nods, standing up to walk you out to the door. You don’t miss how her hand grazes your waist as she guides you.

You wave goodbye to the girls who still remained, and they enthusiastically bid you a goodnight, making you promise to join them again soon.

“Thanks for letting me crash,” you profess, heart still pounding dangerously from the subtle touches, tingles on your waist left in her wake.

“Course,” she shrugs, a smirk on her face. She hands you her phone. “Let me know if we’re too loud again,” she whispers, leaning down to your ear.

Her closeness has you flustered, and you quickly enter your contact information, avoiding the heat of her gaze.

As you hand her cell phone back, her fingers brush across yours, and you subconsciously bite your lip to hold back a shaky breath from the view of her long fingers and her big, veiny hands.

Fuck.

The smirk doesn’t fade from Paige’s face as she notices you staring, and your face erupts in a vicious blush once more. .

With a bashful wave and a smile, you leave, all but running back into your apartment. Your heart was pounding, and there was a slight ache down in your most intimate area that had you squirming in desire.

Your little crush on Paige had been unrelenting the last few years, but it was still just casual. Things had changed, though, and now your feelings were undeniable. Long gone were the days of ignoring your sexuality.

Paige was so hot. And you were so screwed.

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Please, please, please let me know what you think and if you want another part (or more)! Again, thanks for all the love and support!

xoxo katy

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x you #paige x reader #uconn women’s basketball #uconn wbb

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izvmimi · 6 months ago

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You take one glance at Izuku's face and laugh, and he's surprised by your giggling, but there's nothing funnier at the crack of dawn as your nearly 30 year old partner attempting to dash out of the door with toast in his mouth and a bright yellow backpack he's only half wearing.

"You look like a 15 year old plucky anime heroine about to save the world through the power of friendship," you tease, and he first looks at you incredulously before it clicks and then practically inhales the bread into his mouth.

"Listen, I'm in a hurry!" he pouts right after he swallows, and he's about to turn again to rush out the door, only for you to sigh and count to ten under your breath before he rushes back in and asks you if you've seen his work ID badge.

You're still sitting at the coffee table and point right at it, then take a sip of your tea. You usually get to work before him, but today your clinic will open later than usual so you're less harried on your way out. He's been in a tizzy since his alarm jolted him out of bed and you watched him dash around to get ready, deciding to throw him a bone and make breakfast before he headed out.

Izuku will have a long day today, stacking a patrol evening shift right after a full day of classes. When you tell him perhaps he's working himself to the bone (you're really not one to talk however), he's quick to remind you of the following:

"Well, my students need me."

You twist your mouth to the side, but you get it. Izuku is not one to leave things half-finished, and if he's taken charge of a class of promising young heroes, the fact that he's returning to hero work will not deter that commitment he's made to their education.

That commitment is one of the many, many things you love about him, even if it's why the back of his hair is sticking straight up right now. Getting up quickly, you smooth it down, then press a kiss to his cheek before he can run out again.

"Have a great day, Sensei."

He seems to slow down for a moment at the feel of your touch, and gives you a smile, returning your cheek kiss with one on the lips.

"See you late tonight. I'll text as often as I can, okay?"

You nod.

"Okay."

He turns to run out again, and as you clear breakfast plates and pick out your own packed lunch for work, you realize he left his. By the time you look outside the window to see how far he's gotten, he's taken flight already.

You shrug. A detour on your way to work won't be so bad, especially if you can see your favorite face as much as possible.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #mimidoriya #mimi's notes #daydreams: bnha

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arilevenatz · 24 days ago

Text

Heart At Sea

Pairing: Pirate!Wooyoung x reader

Genre/trope: Fluff, pirate au

Word count: 14.4k

Warnings: Self-harm, scars, whipping, Imk if I missed any!

AN: Finally woo gets his fic! I'm so excited to finish all 8 fanfictions of the members! I've had so much fun writing this. Also yes I did cry while writing this thank u very much. I just love wooyoung being so sweet and he's extra sweet to mc. I think everybody deserves a wooyoung in their life

Masterlist

On the island of Seagrove, YN was known as the pharmacist's daughter. Her days were spent behind the counter of her father’s small shop, nestled near the docks. With her sleeves rolled up and her hair tied back, she sorted herbs, prepared remedies, and greeted customers with a quiet confidence.

Her father often ventured into the wild parts of the island, gathering rare plants and ingredients, leaving YN to tend the store. Though young, she had learned much from him—how to grind herbs into powders, mix tinctures, and recognize the faintest symptoms of illness. To the townsfolk, she wasn’t just a girl helping her father; she was a steady hand they could rely on.

The shop itself was simple but full of life. Shelves lined with glass jars and wooden boxes gave the space a calming scent of lavender and eucalyptus. The faint hum of the bustling harbor outside mixed with the occasional jingle of the shop’s bell, marking each new customer’s arrival.

A few townsfolk trickled into the small shop as the morning sun cast golden light through the windows. YN greeted each one with a warm smile that seemed to brighten the entire room.

“Good morning, Mr. Harris!” she chimed as an elderly fisherman stepped inside, clutching his back. “Here for the ointment again?”

“Aye, lass. This old spine of mine doesn’t let me forget it,” he grumbled, though his face softened at her cheerful demeanor.

YN bustled behind the counter, quickly grabbing a small jar of salve. “This should help, just like before! And don’t forget to warm it a little before applying—it works better that way,” she reminded him with a wink.

As he handed over a few coins, another customer entered—a young mother with a baby on her hip. “YN, do you have more of that chamomile tea? It’s the only thing helping my little one sleep these days.”

“Of course, I do!” YN said, her voice filled with enthusiasm. She fetched the tea leaves from a neatly labeled jar and handed them over. “Make sure to steep it for just a few minutes—too strong, and it might be a bit bitter.”

The mother smiled gratefully, the weight of her exhaustion easing just a bit under YN’s sunshine-like warmth.

One by one, people came and went, leaving the shop not just with their medicines but with lighter hearts. YN’s genuine kindness and optimism were infectious, and her presence made the small shop a place of comfort for everyone who stepped through its doors.

Every day, YN spent her hours in the shop, tending to customers with her signature warmth and energy. From sunrise until late afternoon, she ground herbs, mixed tinctures, and offered advice to anyone who came through the door. Her genuine care for others made her beloved in the town of Seagrove.

The shop’s bell jingled throughout the day, announcing each visitor. Sometimes it was a sailor seeking relief for a sore shoulder, or a mother in need of remedies for her child’s fever. YN treated them all with the same unwavering kindness, her cheerful voice and bright smile a constant in their lives.

When the day quieted, YN carefully closed the shop, counting the coins she had earned and tucking them into a small leather pouch. Slinging her basket over her arm, she walked the familiar cobblestone streets back to her home, greeting everyone along the way.

“YN! Thank you for the tea yesterday—it worked wonders!” called a baker as she passed by.

“Anytime! Let me know if you need more,” YN replied, waving with a grin.

The townsfolk adored her. To them, YN wasn’t just the pharmacist’s daughter—she was the heart of their little island, always ready to brighten someone’s day. As she reached her modest home, the warm glow of lantern light spilling from the windows, YN felt content. She had done her part for her community, as she did every day.

Aboard the Halazia, the sea stretched endlessly around the sleek black ship as it cut through the waves like a predator on the hunt. The crew was busy at work, each man fulfilling his role with precision honed through years of sailing under Captain Hongjoong’s command.

On the quarterdeck, Hongjoong stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his sharp eyes fixed on the horizon. His captain's coat billowed in the salty breeze, and a faint smirk played on his lips. “How much longer, Navigator?” he called without turning his head.

“Two hours at most, Captain,” Yunho replied from the helm, his hands steady on the wheel. His calm demeanor matched his confidence in guiding the Halazia through the labyrinth of islands and open waters.

Below deck, Yeosang organized his medical supplies in the dimly lit infirmary. The ship’s rocking didn’t bother him as he meticulously sharpened his tools and checked the cleanliness of bandages. He always prepared for the worst—life aboard a pirate ship demanded it.

Meanwhile, San was in the armory, inspecting the blades and sharpening the cutlasses. His focus was intense, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous energy. As the battle master, he made sure that every weapon on board was in top condition.

On the main deck, Mingi oversaw the crew, his booming voice carrying over the sound of the waves. “Secure those ropes properly! I don’t want to see slack before the next storm!” His role as boatswain made him responsible for the ship’s upkeep, and he took it seriously.

Wooyoung emerged from the galley with a knife in one hand and a basket of freshly cut fruit in the other. “Anyone hungry? I’m not making this twice!” he called out, his mischievous grin suggesting he’d already eaten more than his share.

Down by the cannons, Jongho stood inspecting the weapons that were his pride and responsibility. He ran his hands over the barrels, checking for cracks or defects, and tested the ammunition. Each cannon was polished and ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

Above them all, Seonghwa moved seamlessly between tasks, keeping the crew in line and ensuring the captain’s orders were carried out. As quartermaster and first mate, he was Hongjoong’s right hand and the ship’s enforcer. His sharp gaze missed nothing.

The Halazia wasn’t just a ship; it was a well-oiled machine, and its crew was a family forged by countless battles and storms. Today, however, their mission had a specific target—the peaceful island of Seagrove.

The island of Seagrove had always been a neutral land, a safe harbor for travelers, traders, and even the occasional pirate crew. Its position in the Azure Archipelago made it an essential stop for ships to restock supplies and repair damages, but the island’s policy of neutrality demanded careful diplomacy.

When the Halazia docked at Seagrove, the townsfolk took notice immediately. The sight of its dark sails and ominous figurehead was enough to send a ripple of unease through the streets. While it wasn’t unusual for the infamous crew to stop by, the knowledge of their ruthless reputation made the air feel heavy.

“Looks like the Halazia is back,” muttered an old fisherman, his eyes narrowing as he watched the crew disembark.

“Better keep your heads down,” his companion whispered. “They may not cause trouble, but it doesn’t mean they won’t if given a reason.”

The townspeople moved cautiously, their smiles forced and voices hushed. They weren’t hostile, but they walked on eggshells around the crew, offering a nervous politeness that thinly veiled their fear.

The crew of the Halazia, however, carried themselves with practiced nonchalance. They strode through the cobblestone streets as though they owned them, their weapons gleaming in the sunlight and their gazes sharp.

“Do you think they’re just here to restock?” a shopkeeper murmured.

“They always are,” another replied. “But you never know with pirates. Best to stay out of their way.”

Even as the Halazia crew wandered the town, visiting taverns or inspecting the market stalls, the people of Seagrove remained wary. Neutral land or not, the presence of the crew was enough to keep everyone on edge.

The Halazia crew spread across Seagrove, blending into the island’s usual bustle, though their presence kept the townsfolk on alert. Conversations among the crew were as varied as their personalities, with each man displaying his unique quirks.

In the marketplace, Wooyoung strolled between the stalls, his sharp eyes scanning the goods. He held up a peculiar-looking fruit, turning it in his hands.

“Think this is edible?” he asked, tossing it to Mingi, who had wandered over.

Mingi caught it effortlessly, giving the fruit a skeptical glance. “Edible, sure. But are you willing to test it first?”

Wooyoung grinned. “I’ll pass. Maybe I’ll give it to Yunho—he’s got the stomach for weird stuff.”

Nearby, Yunho overheard and called out, “Don’t think I didn’t hear that, Wooyoung! You’re not slipping anything strange into my food again!”

Wooyoung shrugged innocently. “Last time it was harmless! How was I supposed to know it’d turn your tongue blue?”

Down at the docks, Jongho was inspecting a stack of cannonballs that had just been unloaded from the ship. San leaned against a post nearby, watching him with a smirk.

“You check those like they’re treasure,” San teased.

“They might as well be,” Jongho replied, not looking up. “A bad cannonball could cost us a fight. I’m not taking chances.”

San crossed his arms. “You’re too serious. Maybe you should come spar with me later. Get rid of some of that tension.”

Jongho raised an eyebrow, finally meeting San’s gaze. “Spar? With you? You just want an excuse to show off.”

San grinned wider. “Maybe. But if you’re scared, just say so.”

“Sure.” Jongho rolled his eyes but didn’t rise to the bait.

In a quiet corner of the town square, Seonghwa and Hongjoong stood under the shade of an awning, observing the crew as they mingled with the townsfolk.

“They’re behaving themselves,” Seonghwa said, his tone neutral.

Hongjoong smirked. “As they should. We don’t need unnecessary trouble here.”

Seonghwa glanced sideways at his captain. “You say that now, but when have we ever left Seagrove without some kind of incident?”

Hongjoong chuckled. “Fair point. Let’s hope this time is different.”

In the shaded alleyway near the market, Yeosang stood at a herbalist’s stall, quietly inspecting bundles of dried plants. His sharp eye quickly sorted the useful from the unnecessary.

“These are poorly dried,” he remarked, holding up a brittle bundle of valerian root.

The herbalist, a wiry older man, looked startled. “I—I’m sorry, sir, but that’s all I’ve got right now.”

Yeosang sighed softly, placing the bundle back. “I need quality. If it crumbles before it’s used, it’s worthless.”

From behind him, Yunho approached with an easy grin. “Always so picky, Yeosang. It’s like you expect perfect conditions out here in the middle of nowhere.”

Yeosang didn’t glance back, his hands moving to inspect another jar. “A surgeon doesn’t get second chances, Yunho. The better my supplies, the better I can keep the rest of you alive.”

Yunho leaned against the stall, arms crossed. “Fair point. Still, you could try to lighten up a bit. It’s not all life and death.”

Yeosang turned to him, an unreadable expression on his face. “For you, maybe.”

Meanwhile, Wooyoung spotted Yeosang as he walked away from the stall. “Hey, doc!” he called out, jogging to catch up.

“What is it, Wooyoung?” Yeosang asked, his tone even.

Wooyoung waved a bright yellow fruit in front of him. “You think this could kill someone if I cook it wrong? Or should I give it to the captain and find out?”

Yeosang raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “It’s a mango, Wooyoung. Unless you’re planning to drop it on his head, I doubt it’ll harm anyone.”

Wooyoung grinned. “Good to know! Maybe I’ll add it to dinner tonight. Think the captain likes tropical flavors?”

“I think the captain has more pressing concerns than your culinary experiments,” Yeosang replied, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he walked away.

In the distance, Hongjoong watched the exchanges with quiet amusement. Seonghwa, standing beside him, noticed his expression.

“Just as I thought they were behaving. They’re restless,” Seonghwa remarked.

Hongjoong nodded. “Let them stretch their legs. We’ll need them sharp soon enough.”

Seonghwa tilted his head. “And where does that leave us?”

Hongjoong’s gaze drifted toward the apothecary shop again. “For now? Let them play. But keep an eye on Yeosang. He always finds trouble where no one else is looking.”

Seonghwa chuckled. “That’s because he’s too clever for his own good.”

Hongjoong stood at the edge of the marketplace, his sharp gaze fixed on a small shop nestled between two larger buildings. The apothecary. It wasn’t his first visit, though his trips there were rare and purposeful. The shopkeeper had proven useful in the past, supplying him with everything he needed, no questions asked.

He turned to Wooyoung, who was busy juggling a few apples he’d “borrowed” from a stall.

“Wooyoung,” Hongjoong called, his voice firm.

Wooyoung caught the apples mid-air and grinned. “Yes, Captain? Need me to charm someone, or are we raiding the tavern early?”

Hongjoong smirked. “Neither. You’re coming with me to the apothecary. I need someone to carry what I buy.”

Wooyoung pouted dramatically, tossing one of the apples back into a basket. “What, I’m just your pack mule now?”

“Call it an extension of your scavenger duties,” Hongjoong replied, already heading toward the shop.

Wooyoung sighed, but his grin quickly returned as he jogged to catch up. “Fine, fine. But if they’ve got anything interesting, I’m keeping it.”

The bell above the door jingled as they stepped into the apothecary. The air inside was heavy with the earthy scent of dried herbs and freshly ground powders. Shelves lined every wall, filled with jars, bottles, and bundles of various remedies and ingredients.

YN stood behind the counter, her hands busy organizing a set of vials. She looked up at the sound of the bell and froze for a moment. It wasn’t every day the captain of the Halazia walked into her shop.

Hongjoong’s sharp eyes scanned the room before landing on her. He stepped forward, his coat swaying slightly. “You’re the pharmacist’s daughter,” he said, more a statement than a question.

YN straightened, her sunshine-like demeanor returning despite the intimidating presence before her. “That’s right. My father’s away, but I can help you. What do you need?”

Wooyoung leaned against the counter with a grin, glancing around the shop. “This place smells great. Got anything fun for a bored pirate like me?”

YN raised an eyebrow, but before she could reply, Hongjoong spoke. “Focus, Wooyoung.” He turned back to YN. “I need these.” He handed over a neatly folded piece of parchment with a list of items.

YN took it, her eyes scanning the list. Some of the ingredients were rare, but she recognized most of them. “I should have everything you need. Give me a moment.”

As YN moved around the shop, gathering items, Wooyoung leaned closer to Hongjoong and whispered, “She’s surprisingly cheerful for someone dealing with us.”

Hongjoong smirked but said nothing, his eyes following YN as she worked efficiently, placing jars and packets on the counter.

When she returned, she began explaining each item. “This powder needs to stay dry, and the tincture should be kept cool. And this—” she paused, holding up a small vial, “—is very potent. Use it sparingly.”

Hongjoong nodded, impressed by her knowledge. “You know your trade well.”

YN smiled warmly. “It’s my job.”

Once everything was packed, Wooyoung grabbed the bundle, pretending to stagger under its weight. “Oh no, Captain, it’s so heavy! What if I collapse under the strain?”

YN stifled a laugh, while Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “Stop complaining, or I’ll make you carry more.”

As they turned to leave, Hongjoong paused at the door, glancing back at YN. “Tell your father our deal still stands. I’ll be back when I need more.”

Just as Hongjoong and Wooyoung stepped toward the door, YN's curiosity got the better of her. She cleared her throat and asked, “What deal?”

Hongjoong stopped mid-step but didn’t turn around immediately. Wooyoung, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow and shot YN an amused look. “Curious, aren’t we?” he teased, leaning against the counter again.

Hongjoong slowly turned to face her, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp. “Your father and I have... an understanding. He provides certain items I need, no questions asked. In return, I ensure that no harm ever comes to this shop or your family. A fair trade, wouldn’t you say?”

YN blinked, trying to process his words. “So, you’re protecting us? That’s what this is about?”

Hongjoong’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “You could say that. But don’t mistake it for charity. It’s business.”

Wooyoung chimed in, his tone light but with an edge of truth. “Think of it as an investment. The captain doesn’t waste time on things—or people—that aren’t worth it.”

YN frowned slightly, crossing her arms. “We don’t need protection. Seagrove is neutral ground.”

Hongjoong stepped closer, his voice dropping just enough to be serious but not threatening. “Neutrality doesn’t stop trouble from finding its way here. Pirates, mercenaries, kingdoms—they don’t care about rules when desperation strikes. Your father knows this. That’s why he agreed to our deal.”

YN held his gaze, feeling a mix of defiance and unease. She wanted to argue but couldn’t deny the truth in his words. “Fine,” she said, her voice steady. “But if this is about protection, it works both ways. You might find yourselves needing supplies when no one else will sell to you.”

Hongjoong’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with approval. “Smart girl. Your father taught you well.”

With that, he turned and pushed the door open. Wooyoung gave YN one last playful wink as he followed the captain. “See you around, sunshine,” he said before the door closed behind them, leaving YN standing there with a mixture of curiosity and newfound wariness.

She looked down at the counter where the parchment list lay. Her fingers brushed against it as her mind raced with questions. Whatever deal her father had struck with the Halazia crew, it was clear this wasn’t just a simple exchange of goods.

After the encounter at the apothecary, Wooyoung couldn’t help but find his thoughts drifting back to YN. There was something about her—a bright, carefree energy that contrasted so sharply with the rough, unpredictable life aboard the Halazia. Her genuine warmth had lingered in his mind longer than he expected, and before he realized it, he found himself making excuses to return to the shop.

A few days later, the bell above the apothecary’s door jingled again. YN looked up from where she was sorting herbs, her face lighting up when she saw Wooyoung standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe with his usual mischievous grin.

“You again,” she said, her tone teasing but friendly. “Didn’t you stock up enough last time?”

Wooyoung shrugged, stepping further inside. “Captain wanted to make sure we didn’t miss anything important. And, well...” He paused, picking up a small jar of dried lavender from a shelf and inspecting it idly. “I thought I’d keep you company. Can’t have you getting bored all alone in here.”

YN laughed, a bright, cheerful sound that filled the small shop. “Bored? Hardly. This place is always busy. Besides, I’m pretty sure pirates don’t come back just to check on someone.”

Wooyoung placed the jar back and leaned on the counter, his grin never fading. “Maybe not, but I’m not like most pirates.”

YN raised an eyebrow, her hands moving automatically as she arranged some vials. “Oh? So what makes you different, Mister Pirate?”

He smirked, resting his chin on his hand. “Well, for one, I appreciate good company. And two...” He trailed off, letting her fill in the rest.

Despite her initial resolve not to get too involved with the Halazia crew, YN found herself smiling. His playful energy was contagious, and she couldn’t help but be drawn into the banter. “You’re smooth, I’ll give you that,” she said, shaking her head.

Wooyoung chuckled. “Smooth enough to get a discount?”

She laughed again. “Not a chance.”

Over the next few weeks, Wooyoung started appearing more frequently. Sometimes he claimed he was running errands for the crew; other times, he didn’t even bother with an excuse. Each visit felt a little more natural, as though he was slipping into the rhythm of her world.

At first, YN kept her guard up. She reminded herself that he was a pirate, part of a crew that carried a reputation for chaos. But Wooyoung’s charm was disarming, and her naturally talkative, sunshine-like personality quickly overshadowed any hesitation.

He’d sit on a stool by the counter, chatting with her about everything and nothing. She’d tell him about the townsfolk, the busy days at the apothecary, and the little joys of living on Seagrove. In return, he’d share stories from the sea—some clearly exaggerated, others tinged with surprising honesty.

One day, as YN handed him a small satchel of herbs, she said with a grin, “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re just here for the company.”

Wooyoung took the satchel, his smile softening. “Maybe I am. Got a problem with that?”

She shook her head, laughing. “Not really. Just don’t scare off my other customers, okay?”

Despite herself, YN found that Wooyoung’s presence didn’t feel like an intrusion. In fact, it felt oddly... comforting. And though Wooyoung never said it outright, he started looking forward to the quiet moments in the apothecary, away from the noise and chaos of life aboard the Halazia.

For now, neither of them thought too hard about what this strange, unexpected connection might mean. They simply enjoyed the moments they had, both of them quietly grateful for the fleeting peace they found in each other’s company.

Over time, Wooyoung became a regular sight in the apothecary. He would stroll in with his usual grin, plop himself onto the old wooden stool by the counter, and watch YN work.

At first, he was content just to chat, but as the days passed, he started offering to help.

“Here, let me do that,” he said one afternoon, stepping behind the counter and shooing YN away as she struggled with a particularly heavy crate of supplies.

She raised an eyebrow at him but stepped aside. “Are you sure you’re not just looking for an excuse to stick around?”

Wooyoung shot her a wink as he effortlessly lifted the crate onto a shelf. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

Soon enough, he became more than just a fixture in the shop. He started assisting her with customers, surprising her with how quickly he learned.

An older woman entered one day, asking for a salve for joint pain. Wooyoung, leaning casually on the counter, chimed in before YN could answet.

“Second shelf on the left,” he said, pointing. “Green jar with the brown lid. That’s the one you want.”

The woman looked at him, then at YN, who nodded in confirmation. “He’s right.”

The woman smiled and handed over her coins, muttering something about how “helpful young men” were hard to find.

After she left, YN crossed her arms and gave Wooyoung an appraising look. “You’re actually pretty good at this.”

He smirked. “Told you. Many talents.”

Not all of his interactions in the shop were so lighthearted, though. Occasionally, a customer would walk in with an attitude—someone trying to haggle too aggressively or speaking to YN with unnecessary harshness.

One such day, a burly man stormed in, slamming a few coins on the counter. “This isn’t enough,” he growled, pointing at a small pouch of medicine YN had just handed him. “You’re overcharging.”

YN opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Wooyoung stood up from his stool and stepped forward, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something far more dangerous.

“She gave you the price,” Wooyoung said, his voice low and sharp. “Take it, or leave.”

The man turned to Wooyoung, clearly unimpressed. “And who do you think you are?”

Wooyoung’s grin returned, but this time it was anything but friendly. He leaned forward, his voice dropping even lower. “I’m someone you don’t want to mess with. Now, are you going to take the medicine and go, or should we make this... interesting?”

The man hesitated, clearly weighing his options. After a tense moment, he snatched the pouch from the counter and stormed out, muttering under his breath.

YN let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly.

Wooyoung shrugged, sitting back on the stool and spinning it lazily. “Nobody talks to you like that while I’m here. That’s a rule.”

YN smiled despite herself. “I don’t know whether to thank you or scold you for almost starting a fight in my shop.”

Wooyoung grinned. “Thank me, obviously.”

And she did, though she didn’t say it out loud.

With each passing day, Wooyoung’s presence in the shop felt more natural, like he belonged there. The townsfolk began to notice, too, casting curious glances when they saw the pirate helping YN arrange shelves or handing a bag of herbs to a customer. Some whispered about it, others just smiled knowingly.

And though YN had told herself not to get too involved with the crew of Halazia, she couldn’t deny that having Wooyoung around made her days a little brighter—and a lot more entertaining.

It was an ordinary evening aboard the Halazia when Seonghwa walked into the captain’s quarters, a folded letter in his hand. His expression was calm, but there was an edge of seriousness that made Hongjoong look up from the maps spread across his desk.

“What is it?” Hongjoong asked, leaning back in his chair.

Seonghwa handed him the letter without a word. As Hongjoong unfolded it, his sharp eyes scanned the neatly written words. It was from the pharmacist on Seagrove, a message laced with urgency.

“They’re coming back,” Hongjoong muttered, reading aloud. “The same goons who wanted his land before. He says they’re planning to create trouble, maybe worse. He’s asking us to protect his daughter while he’s away.”

Seonghwa crossed his arms, nodding. “It seems they’re waiting for the perfect moment, knowing the island has no real enforcement.”

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the table. His mind worked quickly, weighing the situation. The pharmacist had been a valuable ally, and they owed him for the resources he’d provided in the past. Letting this go unanswered would be a stain on their reputation—and, truthfully, Hongjoong didn’t enjoy leaving favors unpaid.

He looked up at Seonghwa. “We can’t ignore this. We’ll need to send someone to keep an eye on her.”

Before Seonghwa could respond, the door swung open, and Wooyoung strolled in, as casual as ever. “Someone say watch over her?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing grin.

Hongjoong arched an eyebrow at him. “Eavesdropping now, are we?”

“Not eavesdropping. Just walking by,” Wooyoung said innocently, though his smirk betrayed him. “So, what’s the plan? I’m assuming it involves our little sunshine at the apothecary.”

Seonghwa sighed. “It’s serious, Wooyoung. The pharmacist says trouble’s coming her way, and she’ll need protection while he’s gone. This isn’t just a casual errand.”

Wooyoung’s grin faltered slightly, his playful demeanor softening. “I know that. And that’s why I’m volunteering.”

Hongjoong studied him for a moment, noticing the uncharacteristic determination in his eyes. “You’re volunteering? That’s a first.”

Wooyoung shrugged, though there was no hiding the slight tension in his posture. “She’s a good person, Captain. She doesn’t deserve to deal with scum like that. Besides, I’ve been spending the most time with her. Makes sense for me to step in.”

Hongjoong exchanged a glance with Seonghwa, who gave a small nod. Finally, the captain leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Fine. You’ll handle it. But keep a low profile—no unnecessary fights unless it’s unavoidable. And if you need backup, you call for us immediately.”

Wooyoung grinned, his confidence returning in full force. “You got it, Captain. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

Later that evening, Wooyoung gathered a few essentials before heading toward the apothecary. As he walked through the dimly lit streets of Seagrove, his mind raced with thoughts of YN.

He didn’t know why, but the idea of something happening to her lit a fire in him that he couldn’t ignore. Maybe it was her kindness, her unshakable warmth, or the way she always smiled, even when dealing with stubborn customers. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to let anyone take that away from her.

When he reached the shop, the bell jingled softly as he stepped inside. YN looked up from the counter, surprised to see him.

“Wooyoung? You’re back already?” she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

He nodded, his usual playful grin softening into something more genuine. “Yeah. Looks like I’ll be sticking around for a while.”

Her brows furrowed slightly. “Why? What’s going on?”

Wooyoung hesitated for a moment before leaning against the counter, his voice gentle. “Your dad sent us a letter. Said some people might cause trouble while he’s gone. So... I’m here to make sure they don’t.”

The morning sun bathed Seagrove in a warm glow as YN stepped out of the apothecary with a basket in hand, ready to run her errands. She hummed softly to herself as she walked down the cobblestone streets, her mind focused on the list of things she needed.

But she wasn’t alone.

Though his footsteps were silent and his movements careful, YN could feel the weight of a gaze following her. She smirked to herself, pretending not to notice as she turned a corner, heading toward a quieter part of town.

When the street became deserted, she abruptly stopped and turned around, catching Wooyoung mid-step. He froze like a child caught sneaking sweets, his wide eyes meeting hers.

“So,” YN began, tilting her head and walking backward to keep her eyes on him. “You’re basically a bodyguard now?”

Wooyoung let out a small sigh, shaking his head as he caught up to her. “Careful, you’ll trip if you keep walking like that,” he said, his tone light but protective.

“I’m serious,” she pressed, ignoring his warning. “Isn’t this what bodyguards do? Follow people around, stay hidden, and swoop in dramatically when there’s trouble?”

Wooyoung chuckled, crossing his arms as he walked beside her. “Something like that. But I wouldn’t call myself a bodyguard. More like a... pirate with a purpose.”

YN laughed at that, the sound echoing through the quiet street. “A pirate with a purpose? That sounds so noble for someone like you.”

“Hey,” he said, feigning offense. “I’m plenty noble when I need to be. Like right now. I’m literally protecting you.”

“From what?” she asked, her voice full of innocent curiosity. “There’s no one around.”

Wooyoung glanced around, his eyes scanning the surroundings instinctively. “You’d be surprised. Trouble doesn’t announce itself, you know. One second everything’s fine, and the next... well, it’s not.”

YN stopped walking backward and faced him fully, her brow furrowed. “You really think something’s going to happen?”

Wooyoung’s expression softened, and he shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But your dad was worried enough to ask for help, and I’m not taking any chances.”

She blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. For all his jokes and playful attitude, there was something reassuring about knowing he took her safety seriously.

“So... what do I call you now? Protector Wooyoung? Sir Wooyoung?” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

He rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Just Wooyoung is fine, sunshine. Now, can we please focus on where you’re walking? If you trip, I’m not carrying you back.”

YN laughed again and turned to continue her errands, her steps lighter than before. Despite the strangeness of being followed, she couldn’t help but feel a small sense of comfort knowing that, no matter what, Wooyoung was there.

A few days passed without incident, though the air felt charged, as if something unseen was brewing. YN went about her routine with Wooyoung never far behind, always lurking in the background or perched casually on her shop’s stool, keeping watch.

But then, late one night aboard the Halazia, a lowly pirate messenger arrived with urgent news.

Hongjoong sat in his quarters with Seonghwa when the messenger was brought in. The scruffy man, clearly uneasy in the presence of the infamous captain, fumbled with his words but got the message across clearly:

“The goons you’ve been watchin’ out for... they’re plannin’ to hit the apothecary. Heard it straight from one of their lot.”

Hongjoong’s face darkened as he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “When?”

“Soon,” the messenger replied. “Could be tonight, could be tomorrow. They’re waitin’ for the right moment.”

Hongjoong dismissed the man and turned to Seonghwa, who stood silently by his side. “We can’t risk it,” the captain said. “The girl’s too vulnerable in the shop. Wooyoung needs to bring her here—now.”

Seonghwa nodded. “I’ll send the word.”

At the apothecary, YN was cleaning up for the night when Wooyoung walked in, his expression unusually serious.

She glanced up at him and immediately noticed the shift in his demeanor. “What’s wrong?” she asked, setting down the jar she was holding.

“We need to leave,” Wooyoung said, his voice firm but calm.

Her brow furrowed. “Leave? Why? What’s going on?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “The goons your dad was worried about... they’re planning to attack the shop. Captain’s orders are to get you to the ship where you’ll be safe.”

YN’s eyes widened. “The ship? Halazia? You can’t be serious.”

“I’m dead serious,” Wooyoung said, stepping closer. “It’s not safe here, YN. I can protect you better if you’re with us.”

She hesitated, looking around the shop she’d grown up in. “But... what about the store? What about my father’s work?”

Wooyoung softened, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll make sure nothing happens to it. But right now, you’re what matters. We can’t replace you, sunshine.”

Her heart skipped at the unexpected tenderness in his words, but the gravity of the situation quickly pulled her back. She nodded, her resolve hardening.

“Alright,” she said, her voice steady despite the fear creeping in. “Let me grab a few things.”

Wooyoung watched as YN quickly packed a small bag with essentials—some clothes, a few jars of medicine, and a small book she seemed hesitant to leave behind.

As they stepped out into the cool night, Wooyoung’s eyes scanned their surroundings, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. The streets were quiet, but he knew better than to trust the stillness.

“Stay close,” he whispered, his voice low but firm.

YN nodded, clutching her bag tightly as they made their way through the town toward the docks.

The journey felt longer than it should have, every shadow and faint sound putting them both on edge. But eventually, the silhouette of the Halazia came into view, its sails swaying gently in the night breeze.

As they approached the gangplank, Wooyoung turned to YN, his usual grin making a rare appearance despite the tension. “Welcome to the Halazia, sunshine. You’re about to meet the best—and most chaotic—crew in the seven seas.”

As soon as YN stepped onto the deck of the Halazia, she froze, her wide eyes taking in the sheer majesty of the pirate ship. The towering masts, the intricate ropes, and the faint smell of saltwater mixed with wood—it all felt surreal, like she’d stumbled into one of her dreams.

Her fear of ships and the open sea had always held her back from venturing onto one, but now, standing here, it felt like that fear had melted away, replaced by pure wonder.

“This is... amazing,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the gentle creaking of the ship.

Wooyoung, who had been following her with her bag slung over his shoulder, smirked as he watched her light up like a child discovering a new world. “You act like you’ve never seen a ship before,” he teased, though his tone was soft.

“I haven’t,” YN admitted, turning to him with an excited grin. “Not like this! I mean, I’ve seen them from the shore, but actually being on one? It’s completely different!”

She wandered across the deck, her fingers brushing against the railings and ropes, her eyes darting to every detail—the cannons lined up neatly, the sturdy wheel, and the faint reflection of the moonlight on the water below.

“This is incredible,” she said again, more to herself than to Wooyoung. “I never thought I’d actually step foot on a ship.”

Wooyoung chuckled as he trailed behind her, carrying her things without complaint. “Well, you’re lucky this isn’t just any ship. You’re standing on the Halazia, the finest vessel on the seas.”

YN turned to him, her eyes sparkling. “The finest, huh? You don’t seem very humble about it.”

“Why should I be?” he said with a grin, leaning casually against a mast. “The Halazia deserves to be shown off. Just like me.”

YN rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. She turned her attention back to the ship, climbing a few steps to the raised quarterdeck and looking out over the bow. The gentle rocking of the ship made her heart race, but it wasn’t fear—it was exhilaration.

“You look like a kid in a candy shop,” Wooyoung said, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and fondness as he watched her.

She spun around, leaning against the railing with a bright smile. “I feel like one. This is so much better than I imagined.”

Wooyoung’s smirk softened into something more genuine as he watched her. He wasn’t sure what it was about her—maybe the way her excitement was so contagious, or the way her wide eyes seemed to find magic in everything—but seeing her like this made him forget, even for a moment, the dangers that had brought her here.

“Alright, sunshine,” he said, breaking the moment. “As much as I’d love to let you explore all night, you’ll need some rest. The captain will want to speak with you in the morning.”

YN nodded, reluctantly tearing herself away from the view. “Okay, fine. But I’m not done exploring. You’ll have to show me everything tomorrow.”

Wooyoung laughed. “Deal. But for now, let me show you where you’ll be sleeping. Come on.”

He led her below deck, still carrying her things as she followed him with the same wide-eyed wonder. And though the weight of what lay ahead lingered in the back of his mind, Wooyoung found himself smiling, content in the moment.

When Wooyoung led YN to a small cabin below deck, she stepped inside and immediately felt the silence pressing in around her. The cozy space was nothing like her home, with its small wooden bed, a lantern casting soft light, and the faint creaking of the ship filling the air.

“Here you go,” Wooyoung said, setting her bag down by the bed. “It’s not much, but it’s cozy enough. You’ll be safe here.”

YN nodded, clutching her arms tightly. “Yeah… it’s nice.” But her voice wavered slightly, betraying her unease.

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, noticing the way her eyes darted around the room and how she hesitated to step further in. “Something wrong?” he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.

She shook her head quickly, forcing a smile. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just… not used to being alone, that’s all.”

His smirk faded as he studied her. “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a small sigh. “A little. Back home, I always stayed with my aunt when my dad wasn’t around. I’ve never really been by myself at night. It’s… it’s just something I’m not used to.”

Wooyoung frowned, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed. He could see the fear in her eyes, the way she fidgeted nervously. It wasn’t something he was used to—seeing someone so openly vulnerable. Most people tried to hide their fears around pirates, but YN was an open book.

“You know,” he started, his voice softening, “I could always stick around for a bit. Keep you company until you fall asleep. That way, you’re not completely alone.”

YN’s eyes widened. “You’d do that?”

“Of course,” he said with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m your bodyguard, remember? Can’t let anything happen to you, even if it’s just a bad dream.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, and she nodded. “Okay. Just until I fall asleep.”

Wooyoung pulled a chair over and sat down near the bed, leaning back comfortably as YN hesitantly climbed under the blankets.

For a while, the only sound was the gentle creak of the ship and the distant crash of waves. YN lay on her side, her gaze fixed on Wooyoung, who seemed completely at ease, his legs stretched out and arms crossed behind his head.

“You’re really not going to leave, are you?” she asked quietly.

“Not until you’re out like a light,” he replied with a grin.

She chuckled softly, the sound easing some of the tension in the room. “Thank you, Wooyoung.”

“Anytime, sunshine,” he said, his voice dropping to a soothing tone.

Slowly, her eyes began to droop, the sound of the ship and the comforting presence of Wooyoung lulling her into a sense of safety she hadn’t expected to feel. And true to his word, he stayed right there, watching over her until her breathing evened out and she drifted into sleep.

The next morning, Wooyoung leaned against the doorframe of YN’s cabin, watching her stretch and yawn as she woke up. Her face was lit with the same cheerful glow he’d come to recognize, her fear from the night before seemingly forgotten.

“Morning, sunshine,” he greeted with a teasing grin. “Sleep well?”

YN sat up, her hair slightly messy, and nodded enthusiastically. “Like a baby. I guess ships aren’t so scary after all!”

He smirked, stepping aside to let her step out. “Told you you’d be fine. Now come on, let’s get some food. The others are already up.”

As they walked toward the breakfast hall, YN’s natural curiosity bubbled over. “So… aren’t you ever scared the ship’s going to sink?” she asked, tilting her head.

Wooyoung snorted, looking at her like she’d just said the most ridiculous thing. “Scared? Me? Sunshine, this ship is sturdier than a fortress. She’s not going anywhere.”

“But what if a giant wave crashes over it?” she asked, her eyes wide with imagined catastrophe.

“Then we ride the wave,” he answered smugly.

She hummed thoughtfully before hitting him with another question. “What if a whale bumps into it? Wouldn’t that cause trouble?”

He gave her an incredulous look. “A whale? Do you think whales just swim around bumping into ships for fun?”

She giggled, shrugging. “I don’t know! Maybe they’re curious.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, but the fond smile tugging at his lips gave him away. “Alright, sunshine, what’s next? Got any more doomsday scenarios for me?”

“Many. What about sharks? Aren’t you worried they’ll try to bite through the hull?”

Wooyoung stopped walking, staring at her for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Sharks, YN? Biting through the hull? What kind of stories has your dad been telling you?”

She shrugged with a playful pout. “I don’t know! I just thought… maybe it could happen!”

He shook his head, still grinning as they resumed walking. “I promise you, sharks don’t want to eat wood. You’re safe.”

“What about storms?” she asked next, her voice full of innocent curiosity. “Have you ever been caught in one? Like, a huge one that flips the ship upside down?”

Wooyoung gave her an exaggeratedly serious look. “Oh, sure, all the time. And we just flip her back over and keep sailing.”

YN gasped. “Really?!”

He laughed, ruffling her hair as they walked. “No, sunshine, not really. But we’ve weathered storms before. This ship’s been through it all.”

As they reached the breakfast hall, YN slowed down, looking up at him. “One more question,” she said, her tone quieter but still curious.

“Shoot,” he replied.

“Have you ever been scared on this ship?”

For a moment, Wooyoung paused, his grin fading into something softer. “Maybe once or twice,” he admitted. “But not because of the ship. Because of what might happen to the people on it.”

YN blinked, surprised by his honest answer, but before she could ask more, Wooyoung opened the door to the hall with a dramatic flourish.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced loudly, “the sunshine of the seas has arrived!”

As YN stepped into the breakfast hall, the chatter of the crew quieted, and all eyes turned toward her. Though most of their expressions were neutral or curious, the sheer presence of eight men in one room felt overwhelming. She froze for a moment, clutching Wooyoung’s shirt from behind like a lifeline.

Wooyoung glanced over his shoulder, noticing how she shrank behind him. He let out a soft laugh but didn’t comment, allowing her to use him as a shield.

“Don’t be shy,” he teased lightly, his tone warm. “They don’t bite. Well… maybe San does, but only if you get on his bad side.”

“Hey!” San called from across the room, earning a chuckle from the others.

Hongjoong, seated at the head of the table, gave her a reassuring smile. “Good morning, YN. Don’t let them intimidate you. They’re loud, but they’re harmless.”

She nodded shyly but didn’t let go of Wooyoung’s shirt. The rest of the crew exchanged glances, some amused, some curious.

“Alright, alright,” Wooyoung said, clapping his hands to break the awkward silence. “Let’s get the introductions out of the way so sunshine here can relax.”

He stepped aside, gently nudging YN forward, though she still kept close to him.

Hongjoong stood first, his presence commanding yet calm. “I’m Hongjoong, the captain of this ship. You’ll be safe here, YN. If there’s anything you need, let me know.”

Next was Seonghwa, who gave her a polite nod. “Seonghwa, the quartermaster and first mate. Welcome aboard.”

Yunho, the navigator, grinned warmly. “I’m Yunho. I make sure we don’t get lost. Nice to meet you, YN!”

Yeosang, the quiet surgeon, gave her a small smile. “Yeosang. If you ever get hurt, come to me.”

San leaned back in his chair, flashing a mischievous grin. “San, the battle master. Don’t worry, I only bite if provoked.”

Mingi, the boatswain, waved enthusiastically. “Mingi! I keep the ship in shape. You’re gonna love it here!”

Wooyoung gave her a playful nudge. “And you already know me, your personal bodyguard and scavenger extraordinaire.”

Finally, Jongho, the master gunner, nodded firmly. “Jongho. I handle the cannons. Welcome to the Halazia.”

The introductions helped ease her nerves, and soon enough, the crew’s warm smiles and lighthearted jokes began to make her feel more comfortable.

“Thank you,” she said softly, glancing around at the group. “It’s nice to meet all of you.”

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way,” Wooyoung said, guiding her to a seat at the table, “let’s eat. Sunshine needs to keep her energy up, after all.”

As the crew returned to their meals, YN slowly started to join the conversation, her natural warmth and curiosity shining through. By the end of breakfast, she wasn’t hiding behind Wooyoung anymore—instead, she was laughing along with the rest of the crew, feeling like she might actually belong.

After breakfast, Wooyoung led YN back out onto the deck. The crew had dispersed to their duties, leaving the ship relatively quiet. He decided it was the perfect time to give her a small tour—not of the whole ship, but just the places he knew she’d actually need.

“Alright, sunshine,” Wooyoung said, walking ahead of her with a slight bounce in his step. “Since you’ll be with us for a while, you should know your way around—at least enough so you don’t get lost.”

YN’s eyes sparkled with excitement, her earlier shyness completely replaced by her usual sunshine-like demeanor. “Okay! Show me everything!”

“Not everything,” he corrected with a chuckle. “Just the essentials. Come on.”

He started with the main deck, pointing out where the crew stored extra supplies and how to tell which ropes were safe to touch—“Don’t go pulling random ones unless you want to drop a sail on your head,” he teased.

YN followed closely, hanging on to every word he said, her excitement growing with every little thing he explained. She’d occasionally gasp or ask a question, her enthusiasm contagious.

“This is where the weapons are stored,” Wooyoung said, gesturing to a small hatch near the mast. “But you probably don’t need to mess with that. Leave the fighting to us.”

“Noted,” YN said with a grin. “No weapons for me. I’ll stick to not breaking anything.”

They moved below deck next, where Wooyoung showed her the mess hall, the kitchen (“Wooyoung’s kingdom,” as he called it), and a few storage rooms.

When they reached the small infirmary, YN gasped. “Oh, it’s so organized!”

“Yeosang keeps it that way,” Wooyoung said with a shrug. “Don’t mess with his stuff, though. He’ll know.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, her eyes wide as she peeked inside.

Finally, Wooyoung led her back up to the quarterdeck, where the ship’s wheel stood. YN looked out over the vast ocean, the sun sparkling on the water like diamonds. Her grin grew even wider, and she spun around to face him, her hands outstretched.

“This is amazing, Wooyoung! I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like a whole new world!”

Wooyoung leaned against the railing, watching her with a soft smile. Her joy was so genuine, so unfiltered, that it tugged at something deep in his chest. He’d spent years on this ship, but he’d never seen it through someone else’s eyes like this.

“Glad you like it,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

YN turned back to the ocean, leaning against the railing as the wind played with her hair. “I can’t believe I was scared of this. It’s beautiful.”

Wooyoung found himself staring, his heart doing something strange—something he didn’t quite understand. He’d been around plenty of people, but there was something about YN’s presence that felt… different.

Shaking off the thought, he smirked and nudged her lightly. “Well, sunshine, you’re part of it now. Welcome to the Halazia.”

She looked up at him with a radiant smile. “Thanks, Wooyoung. I think I’m going to like it here.”

He didn’t say anything, but as they stood there, watching the endless expanse of ocean together, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he was starting to like it even more now too.

As they leaned against the railing, watching the endless stretch of blue, YN broke the comfortable silence with a quiet question.

“Are you scared of the ocean?”

Wooyoung glanced at her, slightly taken aback. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged, her fingers lightly tracing the wood of the railing. “It’s just… it’s so big. And unknown. You don’t really know what’s down there. I’m scared of it. Always have been.”

Wooyoung’s gaze softened as he watched her. For all her bright and cheerful energy, there was a vulnerability in her words that struck him.

“I’m not scared of it,” he said after a moment. “But I get why someone might be.”

YN turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face. “You don’t think about it? How deep it goes? How it could just… swallow you up?”

Wooyoung chuckled softly, leaning his elbows on the railing. “I guess I’ve been around it so long, I don’t think about it that way anymore. The ocean’s unpredictable, sure, but it’s also… home. It’s dangerous, yeah, but it’s beautiful too.”

“Beautiful and dangerous,” she echoed, looking back at the waves. “I guess that makes sense.”

He glanced at her, his tone softening. “But it’s okay to be scared of it, you know. Everyone’s scared of something. The important thing is not letting it stop you from living.”

YN nodded slowly, his words sinking in. “I guess that’s why you’re here, huh? To make sure I don’t let my fear stop me?”

Wooyoung smirked, his usual teasing tone returning. “Exactly. Think of me as your very own fearless tour guide of the seas.”

She laughed, the sound light and free, and for a moment, her fear seemed to fade. “Thanks, Wooyoung. You’re not as scary as you pretend to be.”

“Don’t let the others hear you say that,” he said with a wink. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

YN smiled, her earlier worry replaced by warmth. Maybe the ocean was still scary, but with someone like Wooyoung by her side, it didn’t feel quite so overwhelming.

As the day passed, Wooyoung found himself growing increasingly aware of YN’s presence. Whether it was her soft laughter when she found something amusing, the way she tilted her head with curiosity at every little thing he showed her, or even the quiet moments when she was simply taking in the ship’s vastness—he couldn’t help but feel something stirring within him.

It wasn’t just her cheerfulness that got to him. It was the way she spoke with an honesty that seemed so rare, the way she made everything feel a little brighter, even in the vastness of the open sea.

At one point, YN was sitting on a crate near the mast, her feet swinging lightly as she hummed to herself. Wooyoung had been organizing some ropes nearby, but his hands slowed as he glanced over at her. She was just sitting there, doing nothing in particular, and yet he found himself staring.

What is wrong with me? he thought, shaking his head.

“Wooyoung?” her voice cut through his thoughts, and he turned to see her looking at him with her usual wide-eyed curiosity.

“Yeah?” he asked, quickly snapping out of his daze.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked bluntly, tilting her head.

He blinked, caught off guard. “I wasn’t staring.”

She gave him a look that clearly said she didn’t believe him. “You totally were. Do I have something on my face?”

“No!” he said quickly, waving his hands. “I was just… lost in thought.”

“About what?”

“Stuff,” he replied vaguely, avoiding her gaze as he returned to the ropes.

She frowned a little but didn’t press him further. Instead, she hopped off the crate and walked over to him, standing by his side. “You’re weird,” she said with a laugh, nudging him lightly.

“Thanks, sunshine,” he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.

As the day wore on, Wooyoung couldn’t shake the strange feeling. It wasn’t a bad feeling—just… unfamiliar. He found himself smiling more than usual, his mind wandering whenever she was near.

By the time the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Wooyoung was leaning against the railing, watching YN as she marveled at the view.

She turned to him, her face lit up with excitement. “Is it always this beautiful?”

He nodded slowly, though his eyes weren’t on the horizon—they were on her. “Yeah,” he said softly, his voice barely audible. “It is.”

And for the first time in a long while, Wooyoung found himself wondering if the ocean was truly the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

A few weeks had passed since YN stepped onto the Halazia, and in that time, the ship had somehow begun to feel like home to her. She leapt around the deck with her usual cheerful energy, helping wherever she could, whether it was Wooyoung in the kitchen, Yeosang in the infirmary, or even Seonghwa and Hongjoong with their work.

“Hold this for me, YN,” Seonghwa said one afternoon as he handed her a map while he adjusted the compass in his hand.

“Like this?” she asked, holding it up as if she were presenting a prized treasure.

Seonghwa chuckled. “Perfect.”

When she wasn’t assisting Seonghwa, she was often seen pestering Yeosang in the infirmary, her endless questions making him both amused and slightly exasperated.

“What does this do?” YN asked, pointing to a jar of some strange salve.

“It’s for burns,” Yeosang replied patiently, though he didn’t miss the way she scrunched her nose at the smell.

“That smells awful!” she exclaimed.

“It’s medicine,” Yeosang said with a small smile. “Not everything can smell like roses.”

She laughed and quickly moved on to the next question, her curiosity never-ending.

And then, of course, there was Wooyoung.

She spent the most time with him, naturally. Whether it was helping him in the kitchen or following him around during his scavenger tasks, she was always by his side, her bright personality lighting up even the dullest moments.

But for Wooyoung, those weeks had been… confusing.

The strange feeling he had whenever he looked at her had only grown stronger. It was there in the way his heart would skip when she laughed, or the way he’d find himself looking for her whenever she wasn’t around.

“Wooyoung!” YN called out one morning, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?” he asked, turning to see her balancing on the railing, arms stretched out for balance.

“Look! I’m not scared anymore!” she said, beaming.

“Get down before you fall!” he scolded, rushing over to steady her.

She laughed, hopping down with ease. But not without Wooyoung holding onto her. “I wouldn’t have fallen. You’d catch me anyway, right?”

Wooyoung sighed, shaking his head, though there was a small smile on his lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re grumpy,” she shot back with a grin, poking his arm.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him. She had that effect on everyone, he realized—not just him. She had somehow charmed the entire crew, even the usually reserved Yeosang and the ever-serious Seonghwa.

But for Wooyoung, it was different. The way he felt when she was near wasn’t just fondness or friendship. It was something more, something that made his chest tighten and his heart race.

And as he watched her skip off to bother Hongjoong about something, laughing and smiling as if the world was nothing but sunshine, Wooyoung realized he was in trouble.

Big trouble.

That night, like every other, YN was tucked into the small bed they’d arranged for her in one of the crew’s spare quarters. Wooyoung sat on the floor near the door, leaning back against the wooden wall, his legs stretched out comfortably. It had become their nightly routine—talking about anything and everything before she drifted off to sleep.

“Wooyoung,” she started, her voice soft and a little drowsy already, “why do you like being a pirate? Isn’t it scary, always running into danger?”

He chuckled, resting his head against the wall. “Nah. It’s what I’m good at. And besides, it’s exciting. Who doesn’t like a bit of adventure?”

She smiled faintly, her eyelids heavy but still determined to stay in the conversation. “I think it’s cool… but I’d be too scared to fight. I’d probably just hide behind you.”

“You already do that,” he teased with a grin.

“True,” she murmured with a sleepy laugh. “You’re good at making me feel safe, though.”

His heart clenched a little at her words, but he kept his tone light. “Of course I do. That’s my job, sunshine.”

For a while, they continued their usual back-and-forth, her words growing slower and quieter with each passing minute. Wooyoung found himself doing most of the talking, filling the silence as she nodded off.

Then, mid-sentence, he heard her breathing even out. He paused, looking over at her. She had fallen asleep while he was talking, her head resting on the pillow, her face peaceful and relaxed.

A soft smile spread across his lips as he watched her, the moonlight filtering through the small window casting a gentle glow on her features.

“She’s cute,” he muttered to himself before he could stop the thought.

It hit him then, like it had been building up for weeks and finally clicked into place—he was falling for her. Hard.

But Wooyoung knew one thing for sure: even if it was love, he wasn’t going to say anything. She was his friend, his sunshine in an otherwise stormy world, and the last thing he wanted was to burden her with his feelings. She had enough to worry about, and he wasn’t about to make things harder for her.

Instead, he sighed quietly, leaning his head back against the wall as he closed his eyes. If staying silent meant she could keep smiling and talking his ear off every night, then he’d take that. For now, just being close to her was enough.

Wooyoung stood up quietly, ready to leave her room and let her sleep peacefully like every other night. But as he turned to glance back at her one last time, something caught his eye.

Her blanket had slipped down, revealing her arms—usually hidden under long sleeves. He moved closer, intending to fix the blanket like he always did, making sure she was comfortable.

But then he saw it.

His breath hitched as his eyes fell on her wrists, faintly illuminated by the pale moonlight. There were marks and scars, some faint and others deeper, etched into her skin like silent memories of pain.

Wooyoung froze, his heart tightening painfully in his chest.

No… he thought, his mind racing. She’s always smiling. Always happy.

He couldn’t reconcile the sunshine YN he knew—the one who laughed at his jokes, who skipped around the ship with boundless energy, who asked him silly questions every day—with the person who bore these scars.

For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, and yet those scars told a story he didn’t know—a story she had never shared with him.

He clenched his fists, a wave of emotions crashing over him. Anger, sadness, confusion. How could someone as bright as her carry so much pain? And why hadn’t she told anyone?

Wooyoung gently pulled the blanket back up, covering her arms again. His hand hovered for a moment before he stepped back, his movements slow and deliberate as if he might wake her.

He sat back down on the floor, his back against the wall, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He replayed every interaction they’d had, every laugh, every smile. Had he missed the signs? Had she been hiding this from everyone the whole time?

And yet, despite the questions and the pain in his chest, one thought rang louder than the rest.

I’ll protect her.

Whatever she had been through, whatever had caused those scars, Wooyoung silently vowed that she would never have to feel that kind of pain again. Not as long as he was around.

The morning came with the usual rhythm of life on the Halazia. The crew went about their tasks, the sounds of footsteps and distant laughter filling the ship. YN, as always, was a ball of energy. She skipped onto the deck, her bright smile lighting up the day as she greeted everyone she saw.

“Good morning, Wooyoung!” she called, waving cheerfully as she spotted him leaning against the railing.

He smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something had shifted within him since last night, and even though YN seemed like her usual, bubbly self, he couldn’t stop the protectiveness that now gnawed at his chest.

As she wandered off to help Yeosang in the infirmary, Wooyoung found himself watching her closely, more vigilant than ever. His heart felt heavier, knowing the scars she carried beneath her sunshine exterior. He couldn’t let this eat him up inside—it was too much.

Without thinking too much about it, he made his way to the captain’s quarters.

Hongjoong was seated at his desk, a map spread out before him as he carefully marked their next route. He glanced up when Wooyoung knocked and motioned for him to enter.

“What is it?” Hongjoong asked, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms.

Wooyoung hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to put his swirling thoughts into words. But this was Hongjoong—his captain, his guide, his second guardian. If there was anyone he could trust, it was him.

“It’s about YN,” Wooyoung began, closing the door behind him.

Hongjoong’s brow furrowed slightly. “What about her? Is she alright?”

“She is,” Wooyoung said quickly. “At least… I think she is. But…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

“But what?” Hongjoong pressed, his tone serious now.

Wooyoung took a deep breath and looked down at the floor. “Last night, I… I saw something. She always wears long sleeves, and I never thought much of it, but her blanket slipped, and I saw her wrists.”

Hongjoong didn’t say anything, but the sharpness in his eyes told Wooyoung to continue.

“They’re scared,” Wooyoung said quietly. “Like… she’s been through something. Something bad. And she’s always smiling, always acting like she’s fine, but I don’t think she is, Captain. I don’t think she ever was.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he processed Wooyoung’s words. “And you’re telling me this because…?”

“Because I don’t know what to do,” Wooyoung admitted, his voice almost breaking. “I want to protect her, but I don’t know if I’m doing enough. I don’t want her to feel like she’s alone. And—” He hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing. “I care about her, Captain. More than I probably should.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of Wooyoung’s words hanging in the air.

Hongjoong studied him carefully, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Wooyoung, you’ve always been someone who cares deeply about the people around you. That’s one of your strengths. But you need to tread carefully here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Hongjoong said slowly, “that YN isn’t just anyone. She’s someone who’s clearly been hurt before, and if you push too hard or too fast, you might end up hurting her even more.”

Wooyoung nodded, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’d never hurt her.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Hongjoong said, his tone softening. “But she might not be ready to talk about whatever’s happened to her. You have to be patient. Be there for her, but let her come to you when she’s ready.”

Wooyoung exhaled shakily, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “I just… I hate the thought of her suffering alone.”

Hongjoong gave him a small, understanding smile. “You’re doing more for her than you realize, Wooyoung. Just keep being her friend, her safe place. That’s what she needs most right now.”

Wooyoung nodded again, his resolve strengthening. “Thank you, Captain.”

As he left the room, Wooyoung felt a little lighter, though his heart still ached for YN. He would take Hongjoong’s advice to heart. He would wait, be patient, and let her set the pace. But in the meantime, he’d keep being the one thing she could always count on: her protector, her friend, and her silent guardian.

Wooyoung stepped out onto the deck, the salty breeze ruffling his hair as his eyes scanned for YN. He spotted her near the railing with San and Jongho, her arms waving animatedly as she spoke. The two men stood there, half-amused, half-bewildered, listening to whatever silly tangent she was on this time.

“Wait, wait, let me get this straight,” San said, holding up a hand to stop her. “You’re asking me if a sword can cut through a cannonball?”

“Yeah!” YN exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “I mean, they’re both metal, right? So if you hit it hard enough…”

San burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “You’ve been reading too many stories, kid.”

Jongho, who had been leaning against the railing, shook his head but couldn’t hide the faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Even the sharpest blade would shatter before it cut through solid iron.”

“Aw,” YN pouted, crossing her arms. “I thought pirates could do anything!”

San laughed harder, wiping a tear from his eye. “We’re not magicians, sunshine.”

Wooyoung stood off to the side, watching the scene unfold. A warm smile crept onto his face as he saw how easily YN interacted with them now. When she’d first come aboard, she’d been hesitant, hiding behind him whenever the others were around. But now, here she was, chatting away with San and Jongho like they’d known each other forever.

It felt good to see her like this—happy, carefree, and finally warming up to the crew.

“You’re really curious about everything, aren’t you?” Jongho said, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement.

“Of course!” YN said brightly. “I’ve never been on a ship before, so I want to learn as much as I can. Like… do you guys ever get scared of storms? Or, oh! What happens if someone falls overboard? Do you just throw them a rope, or—”

“Whoa, slow down,” San said, holding up his hands. “One question at a time, sunshine!”

Wooyoung chuckled softly as he approached them, leaning casually against the mast. “Looks like you’ve been keeping my brothers busy.”

YN turned to him with a beaming smile. “Wooyoung! Did you know San once fought off five guys by himself?”

San puffed out his chest, clearly enjoying the attention. “It was six, actually.”

“Here we go,” Jongho muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

Wooyoung laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t let him fool you, YN. He probably tripped over a barrel and took them all down by accident.”

“Hey!” San protested, but YN was already giggling, her laughter light and infectious.

As they continued talking, Wooyoung couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. She wasn’t just his sunshine anymore—she was becoming theirs, too. And that made him happier than he could put into words.

The gentle sound of the waves lapping against the ship provided a soothing background as Wooyoung and YN sat on the deck. The sun was beginning to set, casting the sky in shades of orange and pink. YN was carefully folding a piece of parchment, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration as she tried to perfect the origami bird Mingi had taught her.

Wooyoung watched her with a soft smile, his elbow resting on his knee as he sat cross-legged beside her. He loved seeing her like this—calm, happy, and free to express herself.

“Wooyoung,” she suddenly said, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Let’s play a game.”

“A game?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes! It’s simple. One person asks a question, and the other has to answer truthfully. No skipping. Deal?” She held out her pinky finger, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Wooyoung chuckled and linked his pinky with hers. “Deal.”

The game started innocently enough, with lighthearted questions that made them both laugh.

“What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?” she asked.

“Once, I fell off the ship during training and blamed it on a loose rope,” Wooyoung admitted, grinning sheepishly.

She burst into laughter, nearly dropping her origami. “You didn’t!”

“I did. Yunho still hasn’t let me live it down,” he said, shaking his head.

When it was Wooyoung’s turn, he asked, “What’s your favorite food?”

“Anything sweet,” she answered easily. “The sweeter, the better!”

The game continued, each question becoming a little more personal, a little more revealing. Wooyoung learned that YN’s favorite color was blue because it reminded her of the ocean and that she used to dream of being an adventurer before life tied her to the store.

Then, as the playful banter lulled, Wooyoung asked the question that had been weighing on his heart.

“Where are the scars from?”

As soon as the question left Wooyoung’s mouth, YN froze, her body stiffening as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“W-what?” she stammered, her voice shaky, eyes darting to her hands in panic.

“Your wrist,” Wooyoung said, his voice softer this time but unwavering. “I saw the scars. Tell me what happened.”

Her heart raced, her palms growing clammy as she clutched the half-folded paper bird. She couldn’t face him, couldn’t answer the question. Without another word, YN shot up from her spot and darted away, her footsteps echoing across the deck.

“YN!” Wooyoung called after her, but she didn’t stop.

She didn’t know where she was going, her mind clouded with panic, but her feet carried her to Seonghwa’s quarters. She knocked quickly before opening the door, her chest heaving as she stepped inside.

Seonghwa was seated at his desk, a book in his hands, but he looked up at her abrupt entrance. He immediately noticed her pacing back and forth, her hands trembling as she fidgeted with the sleeves of her shirt.

“YN,” Seonghwa called gently, setting the book down and standing up. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” she started, but the words caught in her throat. She stopped pacing and turned to him, her eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears.

“YN,” he said again, walking over to her slowly, his voice calm and reassuring. “Breathe. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I…” She hesitated, her mind racing. She couldn’t tell him about her wrists, couldn’t tell him about the scars, but she didn’t know how to explain the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

Seonghwa waited patiently, his arms crossed but his gaze kind. When her bottom lip quivered and her eyes spilled over with tears, he stepped closer and placed a steady hand on her shoulder.

“Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone,” he said softly. “You can tell me, YN.”

Her shoulders shook as she wiped at her eyes with the back of her sleeve, trying to compose herself. “It’s just… it’s too much,” she finally whispered.

“Too much?” he prompted, his voice careful, coaxing.

She nodded, her voice trembling. “I—I don’t know how to explain it. Everything’s just… overwhelming.”

Seonghwa nodded in understanding, guiding her to sit on the edge of his bed. “Take your time,” he said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to her.

She clutched the fabric tightly, sniffling as she stared at her lap. “I just… sometimes I feel like I can’t keep up. Like I’m trying so hard to be happy, to be… me, but it’s exhausting.”

Seonghwa crouched down in front of her, resting a hand on her knee. “You don’t always have to be the sunshine, YN. It’s okay to feel tired. It’s okay to need help.”

YN's chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the weight of her emotions overwhelmed her. Her hands trembled as they clung to Seonghwa’s forearm, her grip so tight it felt as though she was holding onto him for dear life.

Seonghwa didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, he stayed perfectly still, a steady anchor in the storm of her panic. He knelt in front of her, his calm presence a stark contrast to her spiraling emotions.

“YN,” he said softly, his voice like a gentle tide. “Breathe with me. In through your nose, slowly… and out through your mouth.”

She shook her head, her tears streaming freely. “I—I can’t,” she choked out, her voice cracking.

“You can,” Seonghwa reassured her, his tone unwavering. “I’m right here. Just focus on me. Look at me, YN.”

She hesitated but finally met his gaze, her teary eyes locking onto his calm, reassuring ones.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Now, follow my breath. In… and out.”

She tried, mimicking his slow breathing, though her breaths still hitched with sobs. Her fingers dug into his arm, and he didn’t so much as wince. Instead, he reached up with his free hand and gently dabbed at her tears with the handkerchief, his movements deliberate and careful.

“It’s okay to cry,” he said softly, his voice unwavering. “It’s okay to feel scared. You don’t have to apologize for how you feel.”

Her sobs quieted slightly, though her grip on his arm remained as strong as ever. She clung to him as though letting go would cause her to crumble entirely.

Seonghwa stayed patient, his calmness never faltering. He wiped her tears every so often, his hand moving with the same care as someone handling something fragile. “You’re safe here,” he reminded her. “Nothing’s going to hurt you. Not while I’m here.”

His words were like a lifeline, grounding her enough to slow her racing heart. After a few moments, her breathing began to even out, the tightness in her chest loosening bit by bit. She loosened her grip on his arm but didn’t let go entirely, her fingers still clutching him lightly as she hiccupped through her tears.

“Better?” he asked softly, his eyes searching hers.

She nodded weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied gently. “You’re not alone, YN. You never will be.”

Though her tears hadn’t fully stopped, a flicker of warmth spread through her chest at his words. Seonghwa’s presence was steady and unwavering, and in that moment, she felt just a little bit lighter.

After leaving Seonghwa’s room, YN made her way to her quarters. Her steps were slow, her mind a swirl of emotions she couldn’t quite pin down. She opened the door quietly, her gaze immediately landing on Wooyoung sitting cross-legged on the floor near the door, as he always did at night. His head lifted when he saw her enter, concern evident in his eyes.

“YN, I—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted firmly, her voice steady despite the whirlwind inside her. She stood before him, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for the hem of her sleeves.

Wooyoung’s eyes widened slightly, and he opened his mouth to say something, but she silenced him with a look. Slowly, she rolled up her sleeves, the fabric slipping upward to reveal the scars etched into her wrists.

Wooyoung’s breath hitched as he saw them up close for the first time, the pale lines stark against her skin. His heart ached, a heavy weight settling in his chest as he looked at her, at the vulnerability she was showing him.

“This is what you wanted to know, right?” YN said, her voice soft but laced with a mix of courage and apprehension. “You wanted to know where the scars came from. Well… here they are.”

Wooyoung stood slowly, his movements careful as if afraid any sudden action might scare her away. He didn’t say anything at first, his gaze flicking from her wrists to her face.

The silence lingered for a while before YN took a shaky breath, her fingers twisting together in her lap. She stared at the floor, her voice barely above a whisper as she finally began to speak.

“My mother…” she started, pausing to collect her thoughts. “She wasn’t… normal. She was cruel. A maniac, really. She’d punish me for anything and everything—spilling a drink, speaking too loudly, even just… existing.”

Wooyoung sat perfectly still, his gaze fixed on her, his heart breaking with every word.

“And her punishments,” YN continued, her voice trembling, “they weren’t like what most kids go through. She didn’t yell or ground me. She… she used a whip. Always on my wrists. Always in the same place. I can still feel it sometimes, even now.”

Wooyoung’s fists clenched at his sides, but he didn’t interrupt, letting her speak at her own pace.

“My father tried to stop her,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “He did everything he could, but she didn’t care. She was… relentless. And then, one day, she just… overdosed. Died right there in the house.”

She swallowed hard, her hands shaking as she rubbed at her sleeves. “You’d think I’d feel relief, right? That the nightmare was over. But I didn’t. I fell into this… dark hole. A part of me hated her, but another part of me missed her. I was so confused, so… lost. And that’s when it started.”

Wooyoung’s breath caught in his throat as she glanced at her wrists, her voice quieter now, as if she were confessing a sin.

“I started hurting myself,” she admitted, tears welling up in her eyes. “At first, it was just to feel something—anything other than the emptiness. But then it became… addictive. Like I couldn’t stop. Every time I felt overwhelmed or scared, it was my way of coping. It felt like the only thing I could control.”

Her voice broke, and she wiped at her cheeks, the tears now falling freely. “I hate it. I hate what I’ve done to myself. But it’s so hard to stop. Even now, there are days when the urge comes back, and I have to fight it with everything I have.”

Wooyoung moved closer, his heart heavy as he watched her crumble in front of him. “YN…” he said softly, his voice laced with pain and understanding.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and shame. “I didn’t want you to know,” she whispered. “I didn’t want anyone to know. I thought I’d be fine keeping it to myself, but now… now I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to do this alone anymore,” Wooyoung said firmly, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside him. “You have me. You have Seonghwa, the captain… all of us. You’re not alone, YN. Not ever again.”

Her lips quivered, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to argue, but then she nodded, the smallest bit of relief shining through her tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Wooyoung reached out, hesitated for a moment, and then gently placed his hand over hers. “You’re stronger than you think,” he said softly. “And I’ll remind you of that every day if I had to”

For a moment, she saw nothing but sincerity and warmth in his eyes. “I’ve already burdened Seonghwa enough tonight,” she said with a small, forced laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“You’re not a burden,” Wooyoung said immediately, his voice firm. “Don’t ever think that. Not to him, not to me, not to anyone.”

The corner of her lip twitched upward, a small, grateful smile breaking through. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Wooyoung nodded, his expression softening. “Always.”

Without another word, she sat down on the edge of her bed, and Wooyoung returned to his spot on the floor near the door. The air between them was quieter now, but it wasn’t heavy. It felt lighter, like a silent understanding had settled between them.

And for the first time in a long while, YN felt a small sliver of peace.

The following days on the ship were like a fresh breeze in YN’s life. The weight she had carried for so long didn’t feel as heavy anymore. She laughed more, her usual sunshine-like personality shining even brighter now that the storm inside her had started to clear. She could feel it—she wasn’t alone anymore.

Wooyoung noticed the change in her, and it made his heart swell with pride and affection. She still leaped around the ship like a child, asking silly questions and sometimes pestering the others for answers. But now, there was something different about her—the way her laughter came from a place of genuine joy, the way her smiles reached her eyes.

And Wooyoung… he couldn’t stop looking at her. Every time she smiled, every time she glanced his way, his heart raced. He knew what it was now, that feeling that had been growing inside him from the moment he met her. He loved her.

She had become his light, his reason to be better, his reason to fight. And though he wasn’t brave enough to say it aloud, he showed it in every little thing he did. Whether it was sitting outside her door at night to keep her company or silently slipping her favorite snacks into her bag, his love for her shone through his actions.

For YN, Wooyoung had become her pillar, her safe place. She loved the feeling of knowing someone had her back, someone who cared for her as deeply as he did. It was something she’d never had before, and she treasured it more than anything.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, YN sat on the deck, her feet dangling over the edge. Wooyoung sat beside her, his usual playful demeanor softened by the quiet moment.

“Thank you,” she said suddenly, her voice carrying a softness that made Wooyoung turn to look at her.

“For what?” he asked, tilting his head.

“For being here,” she replied, her eyes fixed on the endless ocean before them. “For being my friend, for being my… everything.”

His heart skipped a beat, and he smiled softly. “You don’t have to thank me for that, YN. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

She turned to him then, her eyes shining with gratitude and something deeper. “You’ve made me feel… safe. Happy. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.”

Wooyoung’s breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t say anything, afraid he might ruin the moment. Instead, he reached out and gently took her hand in his, giving it a light squeeze.

And in that quiet moment, with the ocean stretching endlessly before them and the stars beginning to appear in the sky, they sat together, content in the knowledge that they had each other.

For YN, it was the start of a new chapter, one where she wasn’t defined by her scars but by the happiness she was finally allowing herself to feel.

And for Wooyoung, it was enough to simply be by her side, loving her quietly but completely, knowing that she was his light just as much as he was hers.

492 notes · View notes

lqveharrington · 23 days ago

Text

Family Tree | D.M.

summary: Eleven years after the second wizarding war, you find yourself making lifelong decisions on platform 9¾ once more.

pairing: ex!draco malfoy x fem!reader

includes: a LONG fic, daughter’s name is melody, talks about the war, abandonment, pregnancy, implied sex, cursing, hufflepuff slander (i’m a hufflepuff, i’m sorry), Pansy being a fun aunt & friend, teddy lupin mention being the coolest second cousin, melody is a mischievous child, teddy doesn’t like his god father, cursing, mainly angst with some fluff

a/n: i love him, your honor (he was truly my first love) this took way longer than i thought it would, so sorry 🙏

Years after you fought alongside Harry Potter to defend Hogwarts and the rest of the Wizarding World from Voldemort’s wrath, you found yourself packing trunks for Hogwarts once more. However, the trunks you packed were no longer yours. They contained unhoused robes and new textbooks that weren’t marked with your doodles and annotations. The pet carrier didn’t hold your own owl, but instead your daughter’s snowy owl.

Eleven years old. It was finally time for your daughter to attend Hogwarts.

The entire morning — the entire week — she would go on about finally being able to learn the spells and charms that protected the witches and wizards from evil. Just like you.

When you held her hand tightly to enter platform 9¾, she would continue to talk about seeing all the ghosts and paintings that were mentioned in all your stories. Of course, you never told her all the adventures you endured. She didn’t need to know where the Room of Requirements was.

“—And Moaning Myrtle! Is she as annoying as you said she was? I hope she isn’t. I want to ask her so many questions about you—“

“Melody, my love, you can’t bother the ghosts all the time. Hogwarts is a school.” You run your fingers through her platinum blonde hair and smile playfully when she scrunched her nose at you. You dusted off her shoulders and tilted your head, “What?”

“But it’s a magical school, mum. Shouldn’t I be able to ask questions if I have any?” She challenged you with a raised brow, pushing your hand away and adjusting her perfect hair — much like her father. She always wanted to be absolutely flawless, even when presented in front of you.

Your heart clenched at how similar Melody was to her father. Her smile and her mannerisms were all the same. It felt like you were eleven again and meeting him for the first time. The only difference between him and Melody was her eyes. She was born with your eyes — the ones filled with so much emotion with every single look.

Glancing down at your watch, you sighed and cocked your head to the side, fixating your gaze on the train that once took you to a place where you found everything and everyone you loved. Where you found him.

“Don’t miss me too much. I’ll be back every chance I get.” Melody took your hand in hers and squeezed, noticing your far off look. Her thumb traced the silver ring you wore on your left hand. She never knew what the M stood for on your ring — she always assumed it was for her name.

“I promise I’ll send an owl every week.”

“I know you will.” You pressed a kiss to the top of her head before your eyes caught a book being dropped by a young boy — who looked an awful lot like Tonks and Remus. Shaking your head, you bent to pick the book up and handed it to your daughter. “Can you quickly run and hand this to that young man? But come straight back. I want to properly say goodbye before you leave me forever.”

Melody rolled her eyes at your antics, but nothing could hide the smile that came with it. She made swift steps over to the boy before he boarded the train, eyes widening curiously when he faced her. The boy’s hair turned a bright pink as he thanked her, a sheepish smile gracing his lips.

“Are you a Metamorphmagus?” Melody whispered in excitement and watched his hair turned an electric blue. Her grin widened, recalling what you told her a while ago. “My mum says my aunt was one!”

The boy finally took a good look at Melody, a light bulb going off in his head when he realized who he was talking to. He recognized her the Black Family tree back at 12 Grimmauld Place. He opened his mouth to ask her who she was when his friends pulled him into the train without a single glance to whoever he was talking to.

Melody furrowed her brows in confusion before huffing, perfectly styled hair whipping behind her as she left to find you before boarding the express herself. She thought all Hufflepuffs were supposed to be sweet, but these Hufflepuffs seemed to ignore her like she was nothing but an itty bitty fairy.

She hoped she wasn’t put into Hufflepuff.

“My mum was one of the hero’s at Hogwarts.” She muttered to herself and — once again — flicked a piece of her blonde hair behind her shoulder, narrowly avoiding a collision of trolleys to her left. “I’ll tell her all about this.”

Melody made a quick turn to where she last left you before slamming into someone, nearly toppling over from the sheer force. She caught the person’s arm and yanked herself back before she could fall on her arse, mentally cursing herself for not looking at her surroundings.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She muttered and dusted herself off from invisible dust, looking up at the person only to find a man staring at her with a shocked expression. Was he really that offended by it? He was an adult and she was merely eleven.

The man blinked before shaking his head, schooling his shocked expression to one of nonchalance instead. He looked around and tilted his head at the girl standing in front of him, examining her face like she was someone he recognized before. This girl reminded him of someone he used to know. Someone he used to love dearly.

Melody pursed her lips and rocked on the heel of her Mary Jane’s, avoiding his gaze. She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable with his staring, but she wasn’t comfortable either. Just as Melody was about to excuse herself from the man, she heard your familiar voice ring out, making her visibly relax despite your tone.

“Where were you? I told you to come straight back.” You rushed over to her and ran your fingers through her hair once more, unaware of your surroundings. You were so worried she had left before saying goodbye and it absolutely haunted you.

She looked back at the blonde man behind you for a split second before tilting her head down to the floor. Melody knew that you were waiting for an answer — she just had to suck up the embarrassment.

“I was coming to find you when I knocked into that man.” She gestured behind you and held back a whine when you tilted her head to check her for any cuts and bruises.

Melody made eye contact with the same person she knocked into again and hid her face in your jumper, hating that all the attention kept going back to her. She felt scrutinized under his gaze.

“Mum.”

You sigh softly and turn your attention to the man, still carding your fingers through Melody’s hair. You kept your eyes trained on her until she relaxed, finally looking up to meet the said person when years of memories hit you like a freight train.

“I’m so sorry about Melody. She usually isn’t this distracted — Draco?”

Your throat closed up at the sight of him — Draco Malfoy.

It was your Draco. The one who promised to love you his entire life; the one who promised to never leave your side; the one who left you alone with nothing but a broken heart and an unborn daughter.

Draco swallowed thickly and looked away. He felt horrible leaving you alone all these years, but he couldn’t figure out how to explain to you why he left so abruptly. Especially when you were about to drop your daughter — his daughter — off to Hogwarts.

Everything felt so overwhelming for the small family.

The whistling of the Hogwarts' Express immediately caught Melody's ears, her eyes widening at how little time she had left with you before departing for the next few months until holiday.

“Mum, the express is going to leave soon.” Melody’s voice snapped you out of your stupor, her small hand squeezing your ringed hand — which didn’t escape Draco’s gaze.

You cupped her face with both hands, kissing her forehead. This would be the first time you would be away from her for so long and you didn’t know if you could handle the separation.

“When you have time, send me an owl right away. Include your house in the parchment, alright? Be safe and make smart decisions.“ You instructed.

“I will.” She locked a pinky around yours before wrapping her arms around your neck, breathing in your familiar scent one last time. “I love you, mum.”

“I love you too, my sweet girl.” You held her tightly and made the horrible mistake of meeting Draco’s eyes. You looked away faster than he could mark the emotion in your eyes. “Now get on that train before it leaves without you.”

Melody ran on the train and found a compartment occupied by a couple of other first years, smiling when you waved to her as the Hogwarts’ Express left platform 9¾.

“You didn’t tell me you were pregnant.” Draco spoke and pushed his hair back — the initial shock finally settling in his chest.

You sigh and turn to face him, arms crossed over your chest. Although it had been years, the warmth from his gaze still filled you and you hated it. You hated that all the love you had for him was still stored away.

“Why are you here, Draco?”

He narrowed his eyes at your deflection but answered truthfully. He might as well begin with the truth before anything else.

“I’m the auror assigned to protect the wizards and witches at this platform.” Draco responded before glancing at his watch, frowning at the time it read back. “I’ll be back—“

You put your hand up and stopped his excuses, shaking your head and frowning. Pulling out your own wand, you pointed it at his chest and glared. You would never let yourself be fooled twice.

“That’s what you’re good at doing, Draco.” You tapped your wand on his chest, your heart screaming to stop but your mind blocked out every emotion you felt for him besides pure rage. “You’re good at leaving. That’s all I know about you, and that’s all Melody will ever know about her father.”

Draco’s hands clenched by his sides but made no effort to stop you. He could tell — your eyes betraying your every emotion — that you needed to reprimand him. He could see the way you wanted to scream and shout everything you kept bottled in your mind. Every single memory you had with him building up, ready to explode with any wrong move.

“Love—“

“You have no right.” You whisper at the nickname and shake your head at him, apparating away.

Melody watched in trepidation as first years were sorted into a house after Professor McGonagall read off their names from a long roll of parchment. Each and every one of them grinning brightly at the rest of the student body when the Sorting Hat screamed their respective houses out. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long to be sorted.

After all, her mother blessed her with a last name that wouldn’t take ages to be called up.

“Bellemont, Melody!”

She beamed at the professors as she made her up onto the wooden stool, flicking a stray lock of blonde hair behind her shoulder as the Sorting Hat was placed upon her head. Melody wasn’t sure what to expect when the hat fell, but she knew she would rather move to America than be sorted in Hufflepuff like that group of boys she met at the station. They were all rude except for the Metamorphmagus she held an actual conversation with.

“A Malfoy who isn’t a Malfoy.” The Sorting Hat murmured to itself — and knowingly — Melody. “Clearly, you haven’t been raised with the pureblooded status quo. Perhaps your mother’s doing… But you have your father’s confidence and pride…”

Melody’s face twisted in confusion at the hat’s words. Who was Malfoy? Was that her father? Maybe her grandmother’s previous last name? She didn’t understand the hat, and as if it read her mind — which it could — clarified for the young witch.

“Your father was a broken soul.” The hat tutted and swished around her head like it was revisiting old memories of her parents. “Your mother wormed her way into his heart until she mended him.”

She blinked and looked over at McGonagall, who merely smiled at her. Melody pursed her lips and looked out into the crowd, hoping to find any kind of familiar face. Unfortunately, all her aunts and uncles decided to have children only a few years ago.

Melody frowned as the hat continued to make random comments about her parents, ultimately boring her from the ceremony. She wasn’t sure what the hat was going on about you and her father, but she was sure to send an owl to you soon.

“Nevertheless, your father and mother were in the same house.” The Sorting Hat commented before shouting its decision for everyone in the Great Hall to hear. “SLYTHERIN!”

Melody gave the applauding hall a tight-lipped smile as she walked over to the Slytherin table, finding an empty seat beside an enthusiastic prefect. She was ecstatic to be in the same house as her mother, of course, but now only one thing circled her mind. She didn’t feel the need to ever know about this before. You were all she ever needed. Yet the Sorting Hat planted something in her head, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Who was her father? And who is Malfoy?

“I’ve been getting the same question back from Melody in every single letter. This is starting to get ridiculous.” You throw the recent letter you received from Melody on the kitchen counter, rubbing your face in frustration. “What the hell happened at Hogwarts for her to suddenly be interested in who her father is?”

On a normal day, Melody would never pester you about who her father was. Now, it felt like you got a letter everyday about who her father was. You weren’t sure what the best move was. Either way you went, everything would change drastically.

Pansy shrugged and read the letter, raising her brows at the perfect cursive that could rival Draco’s. “Maybe it’s time you should tell her. It’s been eleven years, and she’s old enough to know about him.“

You spun the stupid Malfoy ring on your finger and huffed. “It’s not about how old she is. I just don’t want her to know that Draco essentially abandoned her. Granted, he left before I could even tell him.” You glared at the silver ring. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t pull the piece of jewelry off. “Besides, she already met Draco. It’ll complicate the entire situation if I try to explain it now.”

“Wait — when did Melody meet Draco?” She furrowed her brows and sat up at the new information. Pansy squinted at your expression before gasping, nearly jumping out of her chair at the realization. “At the platform?”

“Yes.” You groan and bury your head in your hands. Even if you did want Melody to know about her father at some point, you didn’t want it to be like that. She doesn’t deserve such an abrupt change right before she hopped on the express for Hogwarts. “Melody bumped into him trying to find me.”

Pansy sighed and took your hands in hers, watching your reaction very closely. “It’s better that you tell her about Draco rather than someone else tell her. I don’t doubt you’ll make the right call about all of this, but please tell her sooner rather than later.” Pansy squeezed your hands and sent you a small smile.

You bit your bottom lip and glanced toward the moving photograph you hung on the wall. It was a picture of you, Pansy, and Blaise right before Draco’s final quidditch game. You were laughing at something Blaise said, but the photo only played that far into the memory before resetting.

Pansy caught your gaze and waved her wand over to the frame, changing the length of the moving photograph. Instead of you laughing at something Blaise said, you were pulling an unamused Draco to sit beside you for the photo.

Your heart clenched at the sight, finally giving into your daughter’s pleads.

“I’ll tell Melody when she comes home for the holidays. I don’t want her to find out via owl.” You sigh and wave your hand toward the photograph, setting it back to the way it was originally.

The photo was taunting you to look back over, but your fragile heart couldn’t take it anymore.

You could always tell yourself you wanted nothing to do with Draco, but everyone knew that you would run back if you found the perfect reason to. Maybe Melody was your perfect reason.

“Melody, wait!”

The girl turned to the sound of her name — blonde locks flawlessly following through — and her arms tightened around the textbooks she held. Out of all the people at Hogwarts, she least expected to see the boy from the train station jogging toward her. She looked behind him for his friends — if you could even call them friends — but it was just the boy. The Metamorphmagus boy.

“Yes?” She tilted her head and creased her eyebrows when his hair turned a horrid shade of green. The color made her feel uneasy, forcing her to wait until it faded back to its original state to speak. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know your — er — name.”

The boy blinked before sticking his hand out, shaking her hand profusely. “I’m Teddy Lupin. I’m so sorry about my friends back on the express months ago. They found an unoccupied compartment and wanted to claim it before someone else took it.”

Melody slowly nodded and glanced at her leather watch, frowning when she realized she was already seconds late to a study session with a couple of first years she befriended. She pursed her lips and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Was that all you needed me for? I need to study for a charms exam.”

“Well — uhm — I don’t want you to not study, but I wanted to ask you if this was you. If it’s not, it looks scarily like you and has the exact same name. Except the last name matches my uncle’s — “

Melody barely processed the rest of his rambling as Teddy pulled out a photograph of a wall she couldn’t recognize. There were bits and pieces of the wall that were burnt and faces that were skeletons rather than perfectly painted — perfectly detailed — faces. It seemed like the wall went on forever until she glanced at the very bottom right.

Melody’s breath lodged in her throat as she read the last name painted beside her legal first name. Her eyes followed the family tree branch up to find — not her mother — but her father’s face painted on the wall. Although your face wasn’t painted, your name was still written underneath one—

“Draco Malfoy.” She whispered and looked up at Teddy with a shocked expression, hands gripping the photograph in confusion.

There was the last name the Sorting Hat kept muttering.

It was the same man she met at the platform months ago. The color of his hair — and the way you acted around him — should’ve been a dead giveaway that he was indeed her father. Melody shook her head and gave Teddy back the photo, determined to understand why you chose to hide this from her for so long.

“You wouldn’t mind helping me figure the rest of this out, would you?”

The wind breezing through platform 9¾ from the Hogwarts’ Express sent your hair flying through the air and your arms tightening around yourself. You were picking Melody up for the holidays and made the awful decision to not bring a stupid coat — thinking you could get out within minutes.

Silently cursing from how cold it was, you watch the students stream out of the train until you saw the platinum blonde hair you knew belonged to your daughter. Instantly, her eyes met yours and she ran. She ran until she knocked herself into your arms, nearly toppling the both of you over.

“Hi, mum.” She murmured into your neck and pulled herself impossibly closer. She tucked her chin in your shoulder, letting herself melt in your arms. “I missed you.”

You blinked away suppressed tears and kissed the side of her head. You didn’t realize how much you missed your sweet girl until she was in your arms again. “I missed you too, my love.”

You adjusted her Slytherin scarf — proudly, you might add — around her neck before pressing a kiss in her hair. You would make the most out of the two weeks you had with her if it was the last thing you did.

The commotion of the platform left the both of you unfazed as you went to grab her trunk from the express. You shrunk the trunk before tucking it away in your pocket, sending Melody a grin when she rolled her eyes at you. But as you went to leave the platform, Melody tugged you back in place with wide eyes.

You furrowed your brows and stared at her with a confused expression, hands ready to grab your wand in case she saw something that was potentially threatening. “What—?”

“Melody!” A boy ran over to your daughter and put a hand up as he took deep breaths, hair flashing many different colors before settling on purple. “I couldn’t find you after you left the compartment.”

You tilted your head at the sudden arrival of a boy before recognizing the face. You could recognize that face anywhere. After all, he was a spitting image of Remus and Tonks.

“Mum, this is Teddy Lupin.” Melody gestured to the tall boy and pushed up on her tippy toes to look past him, a small frown tugging at her lips.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Teddy.” You shake his hand and gently pull Melody back, eyeing her suspiciously before speaking to the young boy once more. “I haven’t seen you since you were an itty bitty baby.”

Teddy felt his heart kick up at the thought of you knowing him before now. You must’ve known him from when he was a mere baby. You probably knew his parents and who his parents were.

“You knew my parents?” He breathed with eyes shimmering with interest.

“Of course, I did. Your father taught me in my third year, and I absolutely adored your mother.” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and sighed, shaking away the thought of him being orphaned at such a young age. You would forever curse Voldemort for destroying so many families. “How are your studies going, Teddy? I heard—”

“Must we explain everything, mum?” Melody whined and interrupted your friendly demeanor. She didn’t want to stay at the platform any longer than you, but she needed to be here until he showed up, and she didn’t want to spend all that time listening to you being extra polite. It felt weird.

“Did you bring—?”

“He’s making his way over.” Teddy waved his hand in the air and rolled his eyes, slight annoyance filling them. Not because of her but because of his uncle.

He seemed to be taking his sweet time trying to find Teddy after he all but ran toward Melody the second he saw her blonde hair over crowds of reunited families. Although, he had to admit that his uncle was far better on time management than his god father. Harry Potter could save the entire wizarding world yet he still was late to all of Teddy’s milestones.

“He’s making his way through the crowds, although he was quite skeptic on why I suddenly asked him about dinner.”

You looked between the two and knitted your brows together. You knew Melody invited someone over for dinner, but you didn’t expect another person. So who was the other?

Before either of the two could speak, you interrupted with a stern tone. “Him who?”

“Ted, you can’t wander off and not tell me who we’re going to have dinner with — Oh, fuck me.” Draco caught up to his nephew, who he found standing beside the woman he loved all these years. He didn’t think running into you twice at the platform in one year would even be possible.

“Shit.” You mutter and quickly avert your eyes from staring at his disheveled figure, forcing your heart to steady itself.

Looking down at the two children, you crossed your arms and raised a brow. You couldn’t help but think the both of them planned it — and by the looks of their guilty faces — you knew you were right.

“What did you two do?”

Teddy folded before Melody could even utter a single syllable. He jabbed a finger in her direction as his hair turned a bright pink. “Melody did it.”

“Gee, thanks.” The said girl pushed his hand away from her face and met your questioning gaze. She knew she shouldn’t have surprised either of you, but she wanted the truth without you stepping on eggshells every single time. “Uhm…”

You tilted your head and waited for her to continue, feeling Draco’s looming presence right beside you. He was equally as confused by the ambush but was willing to listen to his daughter.

Melody nervously played with the ends of her hair before spilling everything, shutting her eyes tightly when she heard how selfish her plan truly was. If something horrible came out of this, it would’ve been her fault that you were upset and her father would never want to see her again.

“I just really want to know the truth! Teddy showed me the Black Family Tree a while ago and — well — I saw me on there connected to who I suppose my father is. And when I realized it was the same person we saw here, I knew I had to find a way to see him again. I want to know who my dad is, I want to really know him.”

Draco’s face twisted into surprise and looked over at Teddy for confirmation only to whip his head back to Melody.

“And your name was written underneath his, mum.”

Instinctively, you hid your left hand under your arm and bit the inside of your cheek. Though you weren’t officially married to Draco, his family signet indicated that you were promised to one another. Whether you decided to continue with the marriage or not wasn’t a controlling factor.

“You know he’s your father, what else is there to say?”

Melody peeled her eyes open and frowned. You were getting so defensive and she still didn’t know why you never told her about her father. Even Draco looked hurt by your words.

“Why did you never tell me?” She spoke softly — afraid that the only thing she’s ever known could fall apart in an instant. She loved you, but what you kept from her seemed so unfair.

“I promise I was going to tell you this week.” You matched her tone and pursed your lips when you saw her eyes swimming with sadness.

Melody shifted her attention to her father and crossed her arms, tilting her chin up with the same confidence he had at her age. “Did you come to the station on purpose?”

He swallowed thickly and shook his head, tucking his hands into his front pockets, fidgeting from habit. He hated confrontation. “No, I’m an auror stationed here when students head back to Hogwarts and come back.”

Melody looked to Teddy for confirmation — much like her father — and received a curt nod back, making her bite her lip in frustration. Neither of them was giving her the information she wanted needed. All she saw was the tension and the underlying love of two different people.

She wasn’t sure what to do. On one hand, she could press on and continue bothering them. But on the other —

“I didn’t even know your mother was pregnant.”

You perked up at the mention and glared at the blonde, eyes filled with the same anger and disappointment he saw months ago. “And whose fault is that?”

“I’m sorry that I wanted to protect you.” Draco narrowed his eyes at you, his tone challenging yours.

Melody took a small step back. This wasn’t how she planned this to go, but this was more information she received than from the last eleven years.

“You made that decision yourself.” You whispered, voice cracking with hurt. The walls you carefully built around old memories chipped away as you recalled them all — each moment flashing in your mind. “I could’ve helped, Dray. Instead, you pushed me away like I was nothing.”

Draco furrowed his brows together and shook his head — you were always so stubborn and so correct. “You could’ve gotten killed—“

“I would have died to stay with you.” You instinctively grabbed his hand. “Do you know how long I waited? How long I used to stay up — wondering if you would ever come back?” The tears began to well up as you continued to speak, voice trembling and hands shaking.

Draco quietly listened and stared down at your ringed finger, his family signet shining for all the wizarding world to see. He promised to marry you — to take you away from the mess of the past.

Yet he still left.

“I was praying to whoever was out there for you to come find me.” You quietly spoke and finally dropped his hand. “You left me with nothing.”

The both of you stared at one another with unspoken apologies. No matter how long it’s been, you could still read him and he could still read you. To one another, it was like reading a childhood book that could be recited front to back.

After seconds of stiff silence, you turned back to Melody and Teddy — handing your daughter the miniature trunk and keys to your car. “Melody, take Teddy and wait in the car.”

“Mum—“

“Now.” You cut her off and watch her and Teddy leave the platform. Steadying your breathing once more, you looked back at Draco and twisted your ring. “Do you even have anything to say?”

He looked between your eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, voice small like the seventeen year old Death Eater he once was.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke with so much emotion you swore you could see the colors surrounding him. “I’m so sorry I left without saying anything.”

A noise threatened to leave your lips, but you made no effort to leave your position nor say anything.

“But I was vowed to follow my father’s footsteps by becoming a Death Eater.” He took your hand in his and traced the familiar lines across your palm, effectively calming him and you. “Waking up beside you brought me comfort in all the torture they made me endure. I knew you didn’t deserve to suffer with me, so I left.”

Draco watched your hand delicately hover his arm where the mark was, biting his tongue when you thumbed the space below — something you used to do back in sixth year when he got so overwhelmed with his mission.

“I can’t ever take back the day I decided to leave and never show up again, but I don’t regret it.”

You silently absorbed his words and sniffled — signs that were so clear to Draco about what was to come. He tilted his head down to meet your eyes again, giving you a weak smile.

“You raised an excellent daughter without me.” He tired to cheer you up but frowned when he saw the shimmer of a singular tear streak down your face.

“I needed you.” You frustratedly wipe your tear and look away, knowing that the vulnerability of your heart was completely at stake. “Dray, I was seventeen too.”

He squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of the both of you — so young and restrained by everything.

“I was pregnant and terrified. I didn’t know if I could even raise a child on my own.” You breathed and looked up at the glass roofing, pushing the rest of the tears away. “Imagine how different our life would be if you just stayed.”

Another tear escaped and — suddenly — your barriers crumbled. The mere thought of raising Melody on your own without Draco consumed your every being. And somehow — even with just you — she ended up exactly like her father.

“Yes, Melody is amazing, but I really needed you.”

Draco caught your eyes and instantly pulled you in his arms, tucking your head under his chin — refusing to let go of you ever again. His heart continued to break at your silent sobs, each sniffle and hiccup chiseling the crack that formed years ago.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered and repeated it like a mantra, voice raw with so much sincerity. “I’m so sorry, my love. I’m sorry.”

“I needed you, Draco.” You sobbed and breathed in his familiar scent as you buried your face in his chest. You gripped the lapels of his suit, eyes squeezed shut as if you were afraid he would disappear again. “For more than eleven years, I needed you.”

“I needed you too.” Draco whispered and tilted your head up, thumbing your streaked face. His heart ached from all the time he missed out on. “I’m sorry.”

It felt like ages before you pulled away from him. The only sounds that could be heard was your occasional sniffling and the hisses of the express. You took in a shaky breath and wiped your nose with the sleeve of your jumper, mouth moving before your heart and mind could catch up.

“Would you still have dinner with us? I’m sure you’ve been here all day waiting for the arrival of the express.”

Finally listening to your own words, your freeze before slowly meeting his eyes. You were more shocked at yourself than his answer.

“I would love to have dinner with you and Melody.” He answered truthfully before waving his free hand around with the smallest smile on his face. “And Teddy.”

You match his expression and tilt your head to the right, wringing your hands together. “Maybe you could finally get to know Melody.”

Draco’s lips curled into a fully blown smile, his gray-blue eyes sparkling with delight at the idea of finally knowing his one and only daughter. “I would like that.”

“Me too.” You say softly and — for the first time in a long time — hide the rising warmth forming on your cheek.

Draco Malfoy. The biggest love and loss of your life.

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