#White Vault AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shibaraki · 1 year

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IF TIDES COULD SPEAK (THEY’D CALL YOU HOME) ┊ BAKUGO KATSUKI

synopsis: an unlikely hero comes in the form of a barbarian. your stolen pelt is returned by his hand— but for a selkie that is more than simple kindness. it is a proposal.

tags: AFAB reader (referred to as a 'wife' once + 'baby' a few times), fantasy au, barbarian bakugo (+ the squad), selkie reader, brief non graphic suicide attempt, minor injuries, previous forced marriage + captivity, strangers to friends to lovers, accidental marriage + bond, magic elements, bathing together, sharing a bed, miscommunication, love as a choice, getting together, shapeshifters, angst + fluff, eventual smut, bakugo carries reader (he’s strong!!), oral + fingering (reader receiving), unprotected vaginal sex

wc: 25K+

↳ for the mermay collab hosted by the teahouse server ↰

The battle rages on behind as your bare feet carry you frantically toward the cliff side, incognisant to the uneven earth and jagged rocks cutting under your heels.

A magnificent orange glow is cast across the land. Blistering heat radiates at your back and seeps through the thin robes pulled across your shoulders. Fire eats away at the canopy above, at the dry grass in the gardens, at the place you deign to call home.

It is a sight you wish you had more time to savour. A draconic clan hailing from the north had descended upon the land and sought to reap the riches for themselves. The anguished screams of your once wretched husband still echo in your heart, dancing through its chambers like wind through chimes.

You fled with only one destination in mind.

Many, many moons ago, you had been stolen away by greed. A man that called himself king yet acted anything but kingly. Lord only in name. He speared your pod mate and took you, dirty calloused fingers sinking into your flesh, violently tearing the pelt from your back. Nausea churns in your stomach as you recall his grin, eyeing you greedily, desiring servitude that was not his to have.

“You are to be my wife,” he said, drunk on tales of rare creatures who would keep a hearth burning and bear his children if only he stole their hide. “Now you belong to me”.

Your pelt remained locked away in an armoured vault along with his other opulent treasures— goods that would now be burning, turned to ash. He had finally taken from the wrong people and must reap the consequences.

You are so relieved to be free of his clutches that there is no time to grieve the loss. This is your chance. With or without your pelt you are a selkie, and the ocean always welcomes her children home.

Guided by the tides' tumultuous song you sprint through the woods, treeline funnelling out on a plateau to reveal the edge of the cliff. You take a staggered breath, wincing at the pain in your chest. Now your momentum has slowed to a stop, the fatigue catches up with you. An ache seeps through your legs and your knees threaten to buckle as you shiver.

This is it, you think. You watch the waves below roll like dark ribbon. Steeling your resolve you spread your arms as far as they go, until the sinew holding your back pulls taut. Something acrid sinks in your gut and you feel distinctly ill. It takes all of your willpower to deny the fear pounding in your body as you step forward.

The wind billowed around you, swaying your human form towards the edge. Faux wings spread and a roar pushed to the limits of your small voice, sound whipped from your mouth and cast far asea. Eyes squeezed shut, you tip into the oncoming depths trusting your mother will catch you.

The sound is cacophonous. Not even your pulse can be heard over the waves; elemental fingers apply sharp pressure to the north and south of your body, shaping flesh until you're nothing but a pebble caught in gravity's path.

If you should concentrate you’d hear a frantic shout through the white noise. And between the milliseconds left before bone collides with the tide, a large clawed foot encircles your forearm. A rush of air swells in your lungs as you try to scream, the abrupt disruption of your freefall forcing your shoulder from its socket, talons tearing through capillaries as if your skin were wet paper.

Suddenly, you’re a sail without a mast, rippling over the open ocean. Dark and cloudless, not a speck on the surface. The spray is icy against your ankles, a million papercut kisses. In the mirage, you can see fleeting reflections. The silhouette of a dragon mid-flight.

You’ve no memory of hitting the sand or being carried along the shoreline. Your consciousness dips and peaks. The few times you come to are when your body is being jostled, a blurred figure looming above and unrecognisable. In one breath they are washing your wounds with water poured from a wineskin, the next you are flinching away from salve covered fingers as they poke and prod to stem the bleeding.

Warmth is the first thing on your mind as you wake. With a sudden gasp for air, all the exhilaration and adrenaline hits you as if your soul had been caught, suspended in that moment. Phantom touches skim the length of your spine and all at once you are overwhelmingly aware of your body.

The sharp noise startles a figure in your periphery.

“Back in the land of the living, huh?”

A broad, bare chested man sits at your bedside with his arms crossed tight and pillowed in his lap. There’s a single delicate braid by his ear, longer than his short-spiked hair and dangled loosely beneath his jaw. You’d find him beautiful if not for the searing glare.

“That was a fucking stupid thing you did back there,” he snarls. Brusque and overfamiliar. When you don’t respond he continues, “What’ve you got to say for yourself?”

You shrink back.

There’s an awful pinch in his brow. Concern seems to be superseding what was a show of honest anger. Dimly lit by a few oil lamps, from what you can ascertain there is no one else in the room but you two. Inhaling the residuals of healing magic you find that your throat is unbearably dry, tongue stuck to the back of your teeth. How long have you been asleep?

You couldn’t find a voice to ask, exhaling a pathetic whine. The silence provides a window of opportunity for him to further scold you yet he doesn’t take it, fuming as he recedes into his chair. “Don’t need to act so fucking skittish. M’not here to hurt you,” he exhales hard through his nose, reaches out and leaves his hand upturned on the edge of the bed. “Alright?”

Something draws you to this stranger. Inexorable, like the pull of the tide. You accept his proffered palm and it feels unsettlingly familiar. The skin is rough, battle worn and hot. Slowly, your fingers intertwine, and you see fair hair on the back of his knuckles.

Disorientation, loss and anxiety err on the edge of your consciousness. The lamp above his head gives him a warm hued crown, highlighting strands of gold. You can feel sleep weighing on your eyelids but you don’t yet want to look away. “Whatever,” his mouth sets into a frown. “Get some more rest or I’ll knock you out myself”.

When you come to the sun has risen and filters into the room in thin streams of light. Dust fairies dance around the bed. You squint as your vision sharpens, a dull throb reverberating through your skull.

You look at your body first, arm well bandaged and the rest of you bruised tender like an old peach. The wounds throb in time with your pulse when you shift, reminding you that they’re there as your thin clothing brushes against them with little movement. All you can remember is falling. How the waves had careened up the cliff side to catch you, only to have you snatched out of reach once again.

Wherever you are now it is obviously far from your Lord’s grasp. He has never bothered to take you to a healer. You are in a private office, tucked into a bed with soft blue sheets. The shelves are stocked with various medicines, salves, and analgesics. Herbs and chopped petals are stuffed in glass jars labelled with messy penmanship you can’t decipher. A metronome sits on the nearby wooden desk, ticking back and forth, filling the silence until the door is pushed open.

Whoever enters is trying to be careful. You can tell by how slowly they turn the handle and pause at every little complaint the hinges give. Their hair is green, richer than the later weeks in spring, with loose waves that bounce as they move. You watch wearily while they move through the space, humming under their breath and picking up a notebook from one of the desk drawers.

The healer, you presume, pinches the end ball on the metronome and brings it to a stand still. He hushes it as though it were an unruly child before turning on his heels toward you—

And immediately screeching as your eyes meet.

Loud enough for the entire country to hear, his abrupt shout seems to alert others in the building, causing a gaggle of people to burst their way into the room. A metallic tang fills your senses; magic ready, the man that sat brutish yet kind at your bedside wields explosive sparks in the palm of his hands, adorning chains with carved talons and beads and asymmetrical armour strapped to his left bicep beneath a red fur lined cloak.

“What is it, Deku?!”

You offer wordless gratitude to the final dregs of sedatives in your system. You barely flinch at the hostility in his voice, time seemingly slowed as your gaze drags to the companions at his back. First a woman doused in pink. And like the sun, her face glows the rich ochre of dawn, framed by silky salmon toned curls. There are horns protruding from the top of her head, bending like the junction of a tree branch.

Beside her is a large man. Red, red, red. Bright eyes split with a reptilian slitted pupil. Crimson hair styled into sharp spikes. He’s built like a warrior, tall enough to swallow most of the doorway, yet you feel no true fear when you look at him. Something innate in your gut tells you this is a kindred spirit. Energies aligned, you think he must be a shifter of some kind too. He locks onto you first, his alarmed expression smoothing into a wide toothed grin.

Last are two men who have managed to tumble to the floor amidst their rush to get into the room. Distinct gold bangs with a symbol of lightning, pale faced, an undercurrent of electricity thrumming below his skin. Dark shoulder length hair, white spools of rope wrapped around the crook of his elbow, grappling hook in hand and ready to strike.

“Sorry, Kacchan!” the healer, Deku, spluttered. He holds his hands up in surrender, shaking them in a placating motion. “Nothing, it’s nothing! All of you please calm down!”

Deku is quite the unfortunate name, you think. At his insistence the group lower their defenses and slump forward, relieved. All but ‘Kacchan’, who only raises his hackles further.

“Don’t fuckin’ scream like that if it’s nothing,” his upper lip curls to bear his teeth, moving fluidly as his group slinks past him to stand by your bed. “I damn near blew up the building”.

Distantly, “I couldn’t help it…!”

The frame jostles, mattress dipping as it takes on the weight of another. Head turned into the pillow you blink dazedly at the sharp toothed shifter. Propping his chin in his hand, his elbows are braced next to your thigh. “Hi. I’m Kirishima,” he chirped, unmoving as his friends wrapped themselves around him to get a look at you, all repeating his jovial greeting with introductions of their own.

“…Hello,” you rasp. The word grates the inside of your throat and tears well in your eyes as you fight the urge to cough. “Where am…?”

“Back up, losers,” ‘Kacchan’ forces his way to your bedside, shoving the group aside. There’s that odd sensation again as you stare up at him. Strong jaw clenched with eyes narrowed and blazing; sliding to where you lay, waning briefly. “Have some manners”.

“Since when have you cared about manners,” the pink woman, Mina, bemoans.

“Shut it!”

Deku’s nervous disposition dissipates quickly and he ambles to the opposite side of your bed, his notebook flipped open to a page covered in incomprehensible scrawl. While the others squabble he leans forward and flashes a trembly smile.

“Hi! I’m Midoriya Izuku, the one that fixed you up,” Midoriya—not Deku—lowers his voice into a more soothing tone. “It’s good to see you awake. Do you think you could tell me your name?”

You remember your name. Yours. The one given to you before human hands stole your hide. Midroiya’s pen scratches at the parchment as you recite it, his lips silently repeating it. “Great! Thank you. Now can I ask, how are you feeling?” he asks, eyes darting across your face, your body, scanning the bandages wrapped around your arm. “Any pain? Nausea? Loss of vision? Numbness in your limbs? Hallucinations?”

“Slow down, nerd,” Bakugo grunts.

Midoriya immediately appears sheepish, “I’m sorry”.

“It’s okay,” you say. “My mouth is dry and my arm hurts but I’m— okay, I think”.

“That’s my bad,” Kirishima speaks up from his place next to Bakugo, lifting a hand. Despite their difference in stature it was clear who led the charge and who fell in line. “I was rushing so I wasn’t very careful when I caught you”.

Your first thought is that he must have been the dragon. Your second thought is, ah, right. You had tried to fling yourself off the cliff.

As though he’d read your mind, Bakugo scoffs. “Not much choice when you’re saving someone that’s trying to kill themselves”.

Overlapping objections ring loud in your ears. “Bro, not cool,” Kirishima groans, similar sentiments sent loud and fast from the rest of his group.

“I wasn’t trying to—” your half lie is halted by the seething look Bakugo turns to you. Same as before, beneath it all is worry and confusion, unblinking as though you might disappear between the seconds. “I just wanted to go home,” you confess weakly, tethered by the restless twisting of your fingers into the linen.

“Home?” the electric blonde, Kaminari, murmurs.

Tension returns to your limbs, instinctively bracing for the greed you have learned to expect. You may get away with evading questions now, but the healer—if he’s worth his salt—would already know what you are.

“I’m a selkie,” hesitance bleeds into your tone, the confession coming quiet and small. Your chin dips as you swallow, canines sinking into your inner cheek. “The Lord whose castle you raided stole my pelt and kept me hostage for months. I figured it was long gone, so as soon as the attack gave me an opening I ran”.

The atmosphere is stifling. Silence befalls the group, equally stunned. Midoriya is the only one that does not react, kind eyes closely observing you.

A litany of emotions weave through Bakugo’s face as you speak. Disbelief, anger, regret. “Sick bastards,” he mutters heatedly from behind gritted teeth.

A head of pink hair rests by your knee. You’re taken aback by how informally they all behave towards you. “You still would have died though,” she says, bottom lip jutted, sadness colouring her features.

“I would have become seafoam,” you rectify passively. “It doesn’t mean death, not to my kind. It’s a sort of rebirth. My pelt is with the ashes now. I thought… it was my only option”.

“Wait. It got burned up in the fire?!” Kirishima straightens worriedly, eyes wide and apologetic. His fingers twitch as though he wanted to reach for you but thinks the better of it.

“Surely. I mean, I assume it was,” your mouth thins into a strained, rueful smile. “He kept it in the vault with all his other treasures. I watched his quarters go up in flames”.

Recognition passes over Bakugo’s expression but Midoriya is already stepping forward with his outstretched hands waving dismissively. “Okay, guys! No more stressing my, uh… patient,” he says, allowing some strength into his instruction. “Give us some space. You can ask more questions later. Please?”

Your new guests surrender with a chorus of groans. Bakugo squints pointedly at you over his shoulder as Sero ushers him out into the hallway. You feel rooted by its significance somehow. An unspoken instruction that you can’t decipher.

“Are you really feeling okay? No wooziness?”

Drawn to the gentle cadence your gaze meets Midoriya’s. He has set the notebook back onto his desk and rolled up his cuffs. “I’m okay,” you reply after a moment of consideration. “Thank you. You fixed me up, right?”

Rubbing at his nape, Midoriya shoots you a sheepish grin. “To the best of my ability, yeah,” he says. “I’m just a researcher and I don’t have an affinity for healing magic, but Kacchan insisted that I help”.

“You’re not a healer?” it’s then that you notice how untraditional his dress is for a doctor. A bishop sleeved shirt, six buttoned green waistcoat and dark pants. There’s a belt strapped tight around his hips, small satchels hooked into the leather, and an empty waist sheath clearly meant for a sword. “Ah. You really aren’t a healer,” you repeat blithely.

Midoriya giggles, nervous. “No— I mean, this is my office! And I guess I am an apothecary of sorts, but that’s only a small part of what I do,” he explains, gesturing to his various shelves and cabinets. “Kacchan could’ve taken you to the next town over on Kirishima’s back but I think he was panicking— oh, please don’t tell him I said that. He just doesn’t trust other people much. So you got shafted with me”.

When he leans down to untuck your bedsheets you bend your unharmed arm, propping your upper body onto your elbow and working in sync with him as he fluffs the pillows behind your back. Sat upright you hold your bandages out to him. “Thank you,” he mumbles, delicate as he slides his hand around your forearm, patting around his belt and satchels with the other.

Finding a small pair of scissors he tucks it beneath the top of the bandage and carefully cuts down the length of your arm. Your chest constricts as the inflamed skin is slowly revealed to the tepid air. There are ribbons of sutures running from your inner elbow to your wrist, puckered but thin and largely healed, sinew clumsily fused together.

“Sorry about my poor suturing,” Midoriya says as he overturns your arm in his palm, checking from root to stem. “Everything looks good, though. No infection or fever,” he continues muttering, thumb pressed to the shadow beneath his lip. “Your immune response was pretty quick. I wonder if it has something to do with your selkie blood…”

You barely register his apology, stuck on the jagged scar tissue decorating his own hand. The cautious call of your name breaks your reverie. Midoriya’s brow is furrowed, eyes wide in genuine concern that wanes when you try to smile at him. “Got lost in my head there, sorry”.

“I get it,” he breathes, glancing over to the largest cabinet in the room. Reaching the ceiling, stained dark wood, and looks slightly out of place alongside his other furniture. Misaligned, you realise. It is on four small wheels and placed an inch away from the wall. Odd.

You watch Midoriya stroll over with a bounce in his step. His biceps strain under the pale sleeve fabric as he grabs either side of his cabinet and pulls. The wheels squeak and it rolls away with some exertion to uncover a hidden door. Dust cascades through the air; he coughs into his shoulder, shaking out his hair.

“I’ve got a private washroom through here if you’d like to use it,” he explains after catching your questioning frown. The room is barely bigger than a closet. There’s a toilet, a tiny sink, and a tub that, given the width and depth, would require you to sit with your knees beneath your chin. A mere speck compared to home. If you closed your eyes and concentrated, maybe you could pretend you were resting in a tide pool along the shallows of a beach.

You stand for the first time in who knows how long. An uncomfortable prickling sensation crawls the length of your legs as the phantom turns solid and blood rushes to your toes. You grip at your bare thighs where the hem of your robe falls, flesh bursting through the gaps between your fingers, and you gasp through the pain. It’s as if you’re growing a new limb all together.

“Careful,” Midoriya murmurs kindly, hovering at your side in case you need assistance. You hobble over to the washroom, each step like treading on seaglass. He moves away once he is happy with your progress.

“It’ll take a while to warm up,” he warns. “But there are various medicinal soaps and salts under the sink that I’ve made, so you’re free to use them”.

The door is closed behind you.

Left to your own devices the first thing you do is fill the tub with water. You find that the bathroom has no lamp, illuminated only by the cool light flooding in from the main room. His warning had not been exaggeration — fingertips touching the bottom of the basin, the water comes slowly and remains cold up until your second knuckle. Then it warms, warmer than the sea, and with no salt at all.

Bare knees against the floor and skin pimpling under the thin robes, your breaths come quick, stumbling over the erratic jumping of your diaphragm. Indentations between each tile press uncomfortably into your skin, the initial pain dulling into numbness as you sit back on your heels. Beneath the sink behind you are the medicinal soaps and salts. You delicately take a small pot, squinting to decipher the handwritten labels in the dark.

Pulling back one of the lids you’re overwhelmed by an unfamiliar floral aroma. Inside are rocks— tiny, tiny pink rocks, with dried white petals. You pinch some with your already damp fingers, feeling as they immediately dissolve in the moisture, and sprinkle them into your bathwater.

Once full enough, you strip yourself of the robe and fold it neatly, left by the closed doorway. The cold air prickles, your nipples pebbling and the soft hair across your body standing on end, but the water is hot.

You dip your foot in and breathe a sigh of relief as the temperature suffused through your skin, swaddling you in warmth. You submerge yourself completely. As suspected the space is remarkably cramped. Your legs are bent, tucked against your chest with knees below your chin, arms folded around your shins to keep yourself together.

Enclosed in four walls again, shrouded in little to no light, you feel lonely. The type of quiet that makes you whisper. Your mind drifts to the stranger that had saved you, wondering where you might’ve met him before. You smile ruefully, cupping the scented water between your hands. He’s strong for a human. Imposing, you muse, staring back at the reflection held in your palms. Not only in his stature, but even his presence is difficult to ignore.

You bathe, scrub away the blood and grime until you’re a flesh wound. The temperature is cold by the time you’ve turned focus to your fingernails, neurotically picking away the flecks of blood dried beneath them. Drain the murky water, refill, repeat. No matter how harshly you pinch and pull, the feeling of being dirty does not go away, but you stay in the water at least until you feel like yourself again.

The towel you find is coarse to the touch. Sitting in the heated water has tended well to the knots in your muscles. Ungainly as you re-enter Midoriya’s empty office, you flop back onto the freshly made sheets with little guilt. You sit there for a while and let the air dry your body.

There is a pile of spare clothes on the end of the bed; neatly folded shirts, tunics, skirts and pants. You throw on a sleeved shirt and come across a simple beige kirtle as you parse through, the skirt falling just above the ankle, delicately sewn buttons lining the back. The fabric is very soft, though fitting and naturally cutting at the waist.

After putting on some thick knitted socks and a pair of hardy brown boots left by the desk you run both hands down your sides and spin on your heel, causing the free flowing skirt to plume. Satisfied, you slip out the door and creep toward the gathering voices at the far end of the hall. Phantom fingertips walk the length of your spine. Odd, but you put it down to the apprehension churning in your stomach. Gradually you are able to make out what they’re saying.

“Get your filthy hands off it,” Bakugo growls venomously.

“I just wanna feel,” another whines. You recognise it to be Kaminari. “Why is Kacchan the only one allowed to touch it?”

“Stop calling me that, fucker!”

You round the corner and the bickering halts with a harsh shushing sound. They’re all in the centre of a cramped lobby, few chairs lining the walls, woven tapestry hung from the ceilings. Kirishima stands in front of you wearing a pleased grin, comically large. The armoured plates on his naked shoulders clink as he moves. “Hey! You clean up nice,” he tells you. “Feeling better?”

“Much better,” you affirm, perking up at his sincerity. “I’m grateful to you all for watching over me”.

“Our Bakugo did most of the work, really. Got a little protective,” Mina, the one kissed by dusk, leans into your space with her plump mouth curled into a smile. The thin gold jewellery hung from her lobe to ear cuff glints in the late afternoon light. “Barely let us in the room”.

“Cause you idiots are too loud,” Bakugo grumbles, stepping forward holding a shiny garb. The fond undertones belied his annoyance, and everyone heard it loud and clear. Your skin prickled as he drags his eyes over your clothed body, evoking a sense of insecurity that is foreign to you. You aren’t sure what, but you wanted him to see something in you worth coveting.

Then your gaze falls to the fabrics folded over his forearm. Your heartbeat ricochets through your ribcage. A tide of emotion wells at the base of your throat. He handles the pelt with purposeful care. Shivers break out across your skin as he smooths a hand over it. Holding it out, he says your name as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Here,” he thrusts the pelt into your arms. You scramble and clutch it to your front. Something deep inside you shifts. “This is yours, right? We took it during the raid”.

You’re frozen to the spot, mouth gaping around words that won’t come. Bakugo frowns, the group members behind him glancing at each other and shrugging when they find no answer to your silence.

“Well?” he demands, embarrassment staining his ears pink.

“Yes,” you choke, bringing the hide up to your face and rubbing your cheek against it. So warm and alive. Brine fills your senses, overwhelmed by the smell of home. The relief is short lived. “Thank you for returning it, but…”

Losing strength, you try to convince yourself that he needn’t know— that the old ritual would not be binding if done with a human. If the Gods were merciful there would be no condition that tied you together for the rest of your lives. Yet you felt it the moment your pelt was handed back to you. You’ve been feeling his touch all this time, even before the bond had solidified. Heat rose to your cheeks at the realisation; such an intimate act, and it had been accidental.

From one prison to another. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. Bakugo seemed good, in his own rugged way, and he was handsome even by faerie standards.

You wet your lips, breath shaken. “Bakugo. Do you understand the significance of what you just did?”

Bakugo’s expression darkens and he becomes rigid. You get the impression he hates being left in the dark. “What is it?”

“To…” your nails sink into the short velvety fur. “To a selkie their pelt is like an extension of their soul. In our culture, to find and return it is viewed as a…marriage proposal”.

Sero catches Kaminari and Mina as they grapple one another in a dramatic fashion, swaying on their feet. Kirishima puts a hesitant hand on his friend’s shoulder, eyes flickering between the barbarian and your slouched form. “Bro… don’t do anything hasty,” he faltered.

“Bakugo is married now?” Mina shrilled, promptly shut up by the hand covering her mouth. Sero sends you an apologetic grimace.

“Like hell I am”.

Hackles raised, voice sharp and commanding, Bakugo is staring you down like an enemy. Your knees threaten to buckle but you stand your ground, shielding your body with your thick hide. His hands remain by his hips, sparking as the tang of magic bleeds into the air. Despite making no move to attack you still feel his rejection strike you.

“Break whatever vow I just made,” he demanded. “Now”.

“I can’t,” you admit helplessly. “It’s more than a legal contract or a declaration of love. We’ve— it binds us together”.

The barbarian starts forward, upper lip curled into a beastly snarl, held back by the dragon shifter’s grip. Stumbling as you dodge, two familiar scarred arms catch you before your fall. “Kacchan, what are you—?!” Bakugo darts out to grab you and Midoriya immediately pushes you behind his back, shielding you with his body. “Stop it!”

“Midoriya,” Kaminari wheezes, tears beading along his lash line. “Kacchan accidentally got married. Can you believe it?”

Midoriya observes their exchange with a look of confusion. In the seconds that follow you see his eyes fall to the pelt folded against your chest, eyes brightening in understanding. Incognisant to this, Bakugo continues his verbal barrage. “Oi, Deku. You’ve got brain cells. Figure out a way to fix this”.

Mouth gaping like a fish out of water, Midoriya pins Bakugo with a pleading look. “Kacchan. Please tell me you didn’t personally give back the selkie pelt”.

“You knew and didn’t think to say anything?!”

“Why would I?” Midoriya returns, equally irritated. You press your face into the space between his shoulder blades, feeling the vibrations of his voice as they argue. “It’s common folklore!”

“You know I don’t listen to fucking fairytales, Izuku”.

Midoriya reaches back to brush your wrist and offer a comforting touch. You knock your knuckles to his own, grateful for his consideration but unneeding of it. While Bakugo’s furious refusal hurts, and his volume is harsh on the ears, you aren’t truly scared of him. More than anything your body remembers those warm palms— how he had held your hand, even as a stranger, and how he meticulously groomed your hide only knowing that it was of importance to you.

“There’s nothing I can do to fix this,” lowering his tone into something more apologetic, Midoriya’s shoulders slump in defeat. You step to the side, coming into view. Head bowed, weight shifting between each foot. You refuse to be subservient any longer but cannot ignore the guilt that churns in your stomach.

Bakugo sees you. Something flickers in his features; a brief glance, a rough exhale, it flies across his face like the shadow of an albatross and disappears, equally fleeting. Never taking his vermilion eyes off you he argued, “What about cheeks?”

The golden hour spreads her hands all over the room, air cooling when his spitting frustration dwindles to uncertainty.

“Uraraka?” Midoriya mused aloud. His softer countenance tempers your anxiety. “It’s possible she could do something… Let me go see if I have her recent coordinates written somewhere…”

Midoriya scurries back down the hallway, leaving you defenseless. Without thinking you ask the group, “Uh. Who’s Uraraka?”

Everyone’s attention falls to you and you resist the reflexive urge to cower. “She’s a witch,” Kaminari supplies happily, arms wrapped around Sero’s neck like a scarf. “An old friend of ours, but she’s pretty hard to find now. I heard her place is always moving”.

A building that could move with magic. The human world never ceased to be fascinating.

Mina nudges her elbow into his side and a shock of electricity sparks from his crown. “That’s outdated, dummy! You’re supposed to say occultist”.

Kaminari whines, rubbing at his ribs. “To-may-toe, to-mah-toe,” he enunciated, pouting. “Same thing”.

Bakugo growls, ignoring their exchange in favour of pacing the room. Your pelt is a comforting weight as you follow the back and forth motions, taking the chance to really look at him. The fur lined cloak across his shoulders billows obnoxiously as he turns, jewels and talons strung around his neck knocking against his clavicle. Doused in sunlight, the markings painted across his bare chest are highlighted, and you notice the uneven skin beneath them— more scars.

He combs his fingers aggressively through his hair and his arm bulges beneath the armour strapped to his bicep. Kirishima tires of watching and cuts into his path, hands open in surrender.

“Stressing won’t do you any good, man,” the shifter reasoned. “We’ve all got your back. I’m sure Uraraka will know what to do”.

Bakugo huffs. You think there should be steam coming out of his nose. “I know, shithead. I just,” he takes a quick look at where you are awkwardly standing. “I don’t like this”.

There’s an abrupt yelp in the distance. Midoriya’s cry is followed by a crash, the sound of books tumbling from shelves onto the wooden floor. He stumbles out into the hallway slightly dishevelled, patting off the dust on his waistcoat and proffering a sheet of paper. Tucked under his arm is a rolled up map.

“Kacchan,” comes his breathless chime. “Here’s where she was last. But I remembered that she was planning on taking a short trip to the valleys near the coast to find more idiran leaves since they’re in season now. I mapped out all the areas where they usually grow, in case you—”

Bakugo snatches the coordinates and the map without ceremony. “Thanks,” he grunts, turning on his heel and making for the exit. “Come on, losers. We only got a few hours until it’s too dark to fly”.

The group works in perfect synchrony. Sero reaches under one of the nearby chairs and drags out a large bag, hoisting it over his shoulder. Mina does the same, pulling back the draping tapestry by the doorway and taking back a concealed sack. You watch as they walk leisurely behind Bakugo, in no real rush despite his demands, Kaminari lamenting how little they trusted him with their cargo.

Kirishima lingers behind, clapping Midoriya soundly on the back. “Thanks for everything as usual, man. We appreciate it,” he emphasised his gratitude with a strong squeeze.

“I’m always happy to see you,” you’re impressed by Midoriya’s reaction; a smile from ear to ear, sturdy and unaffected by Kirishima’s obvious force, his smaller frame belying his strength. “Just promise not to shift too close to the building. I don’t have time to re-thatch my roof”.

“I promise!” Kirishima traces a cross over his heart with his fingers. Their focus turns to you. You tense, feeling entirely out of place. “Sure you’re feeling alright? Have you ever flown before?”

“No,” you admit, needlessly smoothing the fabric of your kirtle down. “I’ve probably never been this far inland, nevermind flying”.

Midoriya’s eyes widened, though not unkindly. They’re sparkling, as if he were excited on your behalf. “Then you’re in for a real treat,” he beams, the intensity dimming within the next breath, sadness hemming his smile. “Just know you’re in good hands. Kacchan is a little abrasive but he means well”.

“And I swear I��ll fly carefully,” Kirishima interjects. It’s funny, a man so large exuding such gentility. “I’m a dragon shifter, if you hadn’t already guessed”.

You had sensed it immediately. Shifter energies were palpable and animated things. They hung in the air like a humid fog. Despite your similarities you are still so uniquely different. While you were tied to the pelt in your arms, Kirishima had no such restriction. You envied his freedom.

“You caught me…?” you say. He nods at your words. “Thank you, then. Again”.

“That was all Bakubro. He saw you before anyone else did,” as though on cue, Bakugo’s voice penetrated impatiently through the walls, demanding that you both get outside. Kirishima’s lips uptick affectionately.

“If I don’t get to see you again, well…” Midoriya begins to corral the pair of you to the door as he speaks. “I hope you make it home. And I’m really happy I could meet you”.

Surrounding Midoriya’s residence is a dense forest. The trees are tall, older than any you’ve seen, their branches reaching out and intertwining with one another to conceal your group under a canopy shrouded in gold. Further ahead it thins out onto a winding road. Built on a steep hill it dips in the distance, opening up to the many plots of land below.

The earth is soft under your boots. There are wildflowers at your feet. You try to step around each one carefully while Kirishima advances forward to the group with vigour.

Bakugo is saying something but you barely hear it, lost in your thoughts, besotted by the vast canvas around you; a sense of harmony as the pigments blend together. It is like a dream in which you can’t tell one side of the veil from the other, and nothing like the dreary castle you were once stowed away in.

Your moment in lucidity is soon interrupted. You instinctively pull the pelt closer to your chest before realising who had approached. “You listening or what?” Bakugo calls quietly, an attempt at being reposeful. Amidst your daydreaming Kirishima has disappeared into the overgrowth and the others are watching your interaction with poorly veiled interest.

“Uh, sure,” you blurt uselessly. He raises a brow and you feel ridiculous.

“Kirishima said it’s your first time,” he pauses and you nod in affirmation. A hand comes to rest on your back, breath caught in your throat, pressure pulling you close to his side. “Then you’ll sit up front with me”.

Your head bobs again, unrolling the pelt and knotting it tight to your waist, skin prickling under his close scrutiny. Bakugo brings his fingers to his lips and whistles, “Red!”

‘Red’ answered the call with a low room and a rustle of wings. The dragon’s head lifts, towering above the treeline, his body following as he steps out into the open. Amber eyes gleamed in the early evening light as he bobbed his head on a serpentine neck. His deep red scales shimmered with a faint golden sheen as he flashed his teeth in greeting.

You err on the side of reticence while Mina and Kaminari sprint toward the dragon whooping excitedly. Various lines of thick rope trails behind them and Sero picks up the slack, looping it thrice through their bags. He spins the cut end, undulating as the momentum builds, and throws it over Kirishima’s back to be caught by Kaminari and pulled taut.

“C’mon,” Bakugo leads you forward. He is surprisingly patient with you now. You’ve faced young whales and sharks yet still you feel dwarfed by the sheer size of the dragon, heart all pitter patter behind your ribs. It is the prey animal in you.

Kirishima snorts, lowering to the ground. The earth trembles, a gust of wind dancing through the grass. Another rope is flung around his neck, threaded through the horns protruding from his skull like a set of reins, dropping in front of you.

The hand by your hip slides further at your abrupt flinch, arm securing around your waist. “On three I want you to climb,” he commands, giving you no time to think. “One… two…”

Bakugo takes the weight like it’s nothing, lifting you higher so you can grab the rope. Molten heat. You pull yourself up, scrambling to straddle Kirishima’s upper back. The others are further down his spine, playing around at the base of his tail without a care in the world, as though they were not about to be thousands of feet in the air. Kirishima’s lungs expand for breath and you cling to a spike protruding from the dragon’s nape, grip flexing at the warmth that settles behind you.

Bakugo frames your body with his thighs, thick by the skirt bunching above your knees, and pulls the rest of the rope up to wrap it around your pelt. In an instant you are all too conscious of him as a man, the proximity plucking at your centre of gravity, a cold sensation spreading throughout your chest. “Sorry,” he mutters unprompted, so quiet you aren’t sure you were meant to hear it. You get the impression he doesn’t say it often. “For dragging you into more shit”.

You mull the words over as you relax into his hold. With that one sentence you think you understand him a little more than before.

Sero’s voice travels through the silence, “Good to go!”

Fastening his arm across your middle, solid and steady, Bakugo brings his boot hard down onto Kirishima’s shoulder. “Get moving, Red!” he roars.

The dragon’s movements are heavy, slow. Aligned with the winding road, he builds up speed. As though he’d shaken off his own mass Kirishima is suddenly quick on his feet and breaking into a run; forced back in the momentum your stomach swoops, upheld by inertia as your body follows the broad bounding movements.

Leathery wings snap open into the clearing. Your hands clutch at Bakugo’s forearm and he digs his fingers in harder, his lips warm against your temple. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, but all you can hear is the thundering wind and the blood rushing in your ears. You watch the steep edge approach and take a reflexive breath as it abruptly disappears.

Air pours into your lungs and then out again in a ragged, exhilarated gasp. The ground falls—and then you are gliding.

The cool air whips against your cheeks. Smooth and steady as a horse’s canter, Kirishima soars through the open skies, his magnificent wingspan bearing the weight of five riders. Below, the fields coalesce into one land. Towns and villages become an inscrutable speck. Incredulous laughter bursts from your throat, nerves evolving into excitement in the climb towards the clouds.

Bakugo mellows by the second, tension ironed down by gravity. There’s a particular satisfaction to his expression, contentment you’ve only ever experienced in the ocean’s depths, and yet, as he squeezes around you intermittently to remind you he is there, you can feel it too.

“You with me?” he shouts. “Not scared?”

You lock eyes and try to show him a tremulous smile, answering at the top of your lungs, “I’m good”.

Then he bares his teeth, grinning proudly. Over you comes the sense of being praised. Your smile widens.

Time moves differently in the skies. Closer to the sun, you thought perhaps things naturally moved slower. Change is always less apparent when you are walking alongside it. Instead, you measure the hour by the shadows cast chasing Kirishima’s tail, and eventually the skies darken.

Lowering his head, tilting a wing to swing out in a broad arc, Kirishima angles toward the earth. Bakugo raises up a battle worn hand, the lineaments of his face irradiated by streams of dim light threading through his fingers. He makes a specific gesture, signalling to the others of the incoming descent. Like the sun, you can’t look away from his raw brilliance.

Kirishima lands at the base of a mountain valley. It sends a gust of wind across the clearing. Through the dark you make out a familiar reflection of light in the distance. The lake is hardly an ocean, but you’re extremely comforted to be by a body of water.

Chest pressed flat to your back Bakugo’s natural heat spreads through your shirt. Helped down much in the same way you were boosted up, he seems determined to keep you near. You can’t say you mind it— a quiet attraction comes and goes as he steadies you on your feet. He clicks his tongue, muttering clipped insults that he doesn’t mean.

It’s decided you’ll remain there for the night. “You can bet your ass we’re having an early start,” Bakugo says, pointing at each of you with stubborn intent, squinted glare lingering on the less than enthusiastic members. Kaminari slumps forward dramatically and you worry his knees might buckle.

Kirishima leaves again, briefly, to circle the area in his full form while Bakugo starts on the pit. It’s lit by a whisper of fire from the returning dragon’s mouth, setting the tinder ablaze over the nest of branches; the dry, withered pine slowly releases years of energy soaked up from the sun, the air, and the ground, keeping the camp brightly lit.

Smoke swirls above and dissipates into the atmosphere. You are far enough from any large human settlement that you see the night sky in all its clarity. Around you now are the soft voices of acquaintances filtered between conversations; none you could hear properly, but the sounds were still soothing, coming in hushed tones that add to the intimate atmosphere.

Flames dance on their cheeks, illuminating the prominent parts of their faces. You’re sitting beside the water’s edge with your pelt strewn across your lap, close enough to feel the warmth as it crackles and spits, watching the way they love each other.

Kaminari has fished out a big bottle from his bag, dramatically popping the cork, and is steadily passing it around. Alcohol, you guessed. Sero took a heavy swig without flinching. Mina had tried to do the same and now has her head pillowed by Kirishima’s thigh, thick and sturdy as a human, and his fingers stroked through the curly by her temple aimlessly as he lost himself in discussion. Sensing your gaze, she meets your eyes and smiles dazedly, lids fluttering.

You look away, take a breath and notice the air tastes like sake and smoke. Darkness covers the lake. Under the waxing moon your face stares back at you, swimming among minnows and echoes of stars. It ripples where you dip your fingertips, mind empty, anaesthetised by the chill.

“You idiots never pace yourselves,” Bakugo’s voice rumbled over the flames and rolled over your skin. He is sitting closest to you, legs loosely crossed in the dirt . “If you throw up on Red tomorrow I’m not cleaning it up”.

Kaminari shakes the bottle in his direction. The bubbles fizz upward, some spilling out. “Such a stick in the mud, Kacchan. We gotta celebrate your marriage somehow!”

Sero cackles as the other two chime in agreement. You stroke your pelt, restless at the mention of your union, and it soaks up the water from your fingers. Surprisingly, Bakugo lets it slide, though not before scooping the loose earth into his hand and throwing it at an oncoming Kaminari.

Eyes of amber briefly flicker over your form in his approach. Kaminari drops into the empty space beside you and pulls the bottle from his mouth with a resounding pop, leaving behind a wet sheen, and tilts it forward. “You too,” he grinned. “Congrats. Our boy is quite the catch, y’know”.

“So I can see,” you smile, letting the gloom be pulled right out of you, your fingers wrapping around the bottle's neck. They grazing his own and spark static. Neither of you comment on it, his squinted stare fixed curiously on your expression as you bring the finish to your lips.

The aroma is rich, sweet like overly ripe bananas. You tip back, feeling it dry and bitter on your tongue. There are hints of vanilla and brown sugar, a sting to your throat that begs you to cough. You hear a quiet laugh.

“Too strong?” Sero teases lightheartedly from across the campfire.

Your expression twists, “It’s good. But it burns. Is that normal?”

“That’s why it’s good,” Kaminari snickers. You clear your throat, handing the bottle back, attention drawn back to the lake in a beat of comfortable silence. “Oh, hey. I did want to say— you can swim if you need to, y’know”.

“Hm?”

“Kiri has all sorts of weird urges if he doesn’t shift for a while. Gets all restless and snappy,” Kaminari gives a knowing look to the man in question. Kirishima nods at you, his features taut with sincerity. “So if you want to swim for a while or something we totally get it”.

You’re flustered by their earnestness, gripping at your pelt, all too aware of it. Slipping into your other form feels far too personal; well meaning as they are, they’re still strangers to you. “That’s— I’m alright,” you politely decline, “my needs as a seal aren’t really felt while I’m like this”.

A surprised noise resonates from Kirishima, Mina unmoving from her place in his lap but watching with rapt curiosity. “You’re practically human right now, then?” he asks.

“Practically,” you give a self conscious shrug. Somehow admitting it felt like stripping yourself. Confessing to a weakness. Unsettled, you deflect the subject back. “Do you keep your dragon traits as a human?”

“Nah, not while I’m in this form. I don’t even have my hydrogen glands— look,” Kirishima hooks his fingers into his cheeks to spread them wider. You lean in for a closer look. The glow from the campfire illuminates the back of his throat— barely, and ironically. His tongue wiggles as he tries to lay it flat. You’re not sure what he’s trying to show you. You’ve never seen a dragon’s maw before, but aside from the shark-like teeth his mouth really does seem the same as any other man’s.

“Pretty boring, right?” his words come garbled around his fingers and so he pulls them out, wiping the spit on his pants. “But even though I can’t breathe fire right now, I can do this!”

You stare in surprise as the skin along his forearm hardens into tough scales. He holds it out to you in permission to touch; they feel jagged under your fingertips, tough like the bark of an ancient tree. “That’s amazing. You have your own shield,” you breathe, awed.

“Damn right,” Bakugo interjects. There’s that unfettered pride again. Kirishima’s cheeks redden and you sympathise with him. In your short time with them you knew receiving praise from Bakugo felt like standing under the sun. “Should‘ve seen him as a kid,” he continues, eyes alight and mirthful. “Had scales like wet paper. Even cried when he first shifted”.

“D’you have to bring that up,” Kirishima groans, though not upset by it. He shares in the amusement, uplifted by the sound of his friends' laughter, and pouts playfully in your direction. “It was scary!”

Mina giggles. Her movements are sluggish and dopey as she waves her arm in Kaminari’s direction, who then stretches around the pit to Sero, who then passes it off to her. She takes a quick sip, free hand pinching Kirishima’s cheek. “Wasn't your first time an accident, too? That’s so cute”.

“He sneezed actually,” Sero supplies, smirk crooked, foot tapping Kirishima’s ankle in a preemptive apology. “Destroyed half his house”.

Kaminari slaps his knee, “Man, you were stumbling around like a newborn foal. It was hilarious”.

Bakugo grinned as the others bickered, a fond, radiant thing that lit up his whole face. He’s softer like this, drenched in warmth. Cloak tucked behind his shoulders you are given the view of his broad chest. And when he finally looks at you, his half lidded gaze has been softened by his third swig; though he remained considerably sober compared to his companions.

“What’re you starin’ at?” he mutters.

“Nothing,” you answer quickly, then, quieter, “It’s just nice that you’ve all been together for so long”.

“Since we were snot-nosed brats. We hail from the same clan. Deku too,” he replies, elbow propped on his knee, chin cupped in his palm. “Getting sick of seeing their faces at every turn”.

“Liar,” you hum amusedly. “What do humans call it…? Emotionally constipated”.

His eyes slide over you, brow quirked. With his friends distracted he is more emboldened giving you attention. “Got some liquor down your neck and suddenly you’re givin’ me cheek?”

“Guess so,” you feel yourself endeared by your not-husband. The pleasant honeyed sensation shrouding your body must’ve loosened your tongue. “Anyone can see they’re like family to you”.

The barbarian kisses his teeth and shifts himself toward you, an ugly look on his face. You catch his peek at your pelt. “What about you?”

“Me?”

Bakugo grunts. “Yeah. You got family?”

If not for the alcohol that question might’ve sucked all the joy from the air. You settle on a sad smile, dragging your fingertip through the dirt to draw a vague seal shape. “That’s hard to answer,” you intoned gently, barely audible over the crackling fire. “My memories of them are vague. The longer I stay human the more I forget”. He frowns, but you continue, unperturbed, “Usually it would be the same thing in reverse, if we weren’t bonded I would likely forget all of this”.

“And you’re okay with that?” he says, some edge to his tone. “You’re okay with being stuck here?”

The ‘with me’ goes unspoken but you hear it, and you fall silent. Because you have no answer. You’d had months to reconcile a pallid future— at one point you thought you would never again see the ocean, least of all your family. It was probable that they’d already moved on without you.

“I don’t feel stuck,” you admit. His actions and his words, albeit harsh, proved that to be true. Aside from the obvious differences from your previous capture, the biggest is that you are equally in possession of Bakugo’s individual liberty— you’re married, you mentally amend, not in possession. While it is true you wouldn’t be able to stray far from him with the bond established, you held your pelt, independence, control.

A near imperceptible tension seeps from him at your answer. “What about you?”

He scoffs, stretching out his legs. The soles of his boots drag in the dirt. “Do I look fuckin’ stuck?”

“No,” you murmur with amusement, turning to gaze at the flickering pyre. “A man that can fly hundreds of miles on dragonback in a single day certainly isn’t stuck”.

“Now you’re getting it”.

The other conversation has worn into soft murmurings. Kirishima drunkenly hands off the last of the alcohol to Bakugo, gesturing to the three who’ve surrounded him and fallen asleep. As the dragon shifter repositions himself to join them, curled together like a pack of seal pups, Bakugo takes a sip.

There’s probably only a mouthful left and you accept it when he offers. “You should sleep, too”.

You heed his instruction and lie down on your side, your pelt pillowed under your head. The smell of home swaddles you. “Early rise, right?” he nods, leaning back onto his arms. “How long do you think it’ll take to find the—uh, occultist?”

“A week if she’s where she’s supposed to be,” he scowls. You’re not sure what draws the heat to your face; the drink or his voice, now gravelly with fatigue. “Three at most”.

“Okay,” you exhale, eyes fluttering closed. “Thank you, Bakugo”.

A soft breeze dances through the brush. Your skin pebbles, shivers slipping down your spine. Something heavy drapes over you and encases you in a warm cocoon. Fluff tickles at your nose. Your fingers curl into the familiar red fabric of Bakugo’s cloak. He has pointedly angled away from you, ready to ignore any attempt at interrogation. The gruff act of kindness makes your heartbeat faster. Fondness settles in your chest, so big that it aches. His natural scent mixes with yours and it’s like being laid on the shoreline, stitching sea and land together.

“Don’t fuckin’ thank me yet,” the muscles in his back ripple as he tends to the dwindling fire, declaring with conviction, “Just follow me. I’ll fix this and get you home”.

You lick your lips, mouth dry from the alcohol. In that very moment you want to tell him that the ocean and the sky are like a two way mirror; that when you were up there with him, strangely, your body thought it was at home.

Instead, you close your eyes and watch the embers paint yellow and orange kaleidoscopes behind your eyelids.

Instead, you sleep.

The weeks that follow are arduous. Uraraka is nowhere to be found, and your group resorted to searching the areas of iridian growth Midoriya circled.

You weren’t used to hiking up mountainous lands, navigating forests or scaling dragons, not in the beginning. Rising with the sun, enduring unpredictable changes in weather, wincing through the ache that grew in your weaker human muscles, Bakugo found your crankiness amusing and irritating all at once; never missing an opportunity to comment on your lack of stamina, then using it as an excuse to assist where assistance is not truly needed.

But you saw through him, and let him. You did not need help climbing, yet your hands weaved together so he could pull you up. You’re soon practiced in saddling Kirishima, yet you always wait for Bakugo to put his arm around your lower back every ride. Your inner voice sings whenever he brings you food— begrudgingly, he throws it into your lap and grunts like the barbarian he is— or hangs his cloak over your head without a word as though you were a rack. It’s a little more charged every time you interact, and you found you liked being taken care of in those subtle ways that did not undermine your independence.

The others noticed and teased accordingly. They call him a dutiful husband and his aggravated explosions saw you driven out of two small settlements for startling livestock. You become closer to each of them. Their patchwork family makes room for you quicker than you know what to do with. And you enjoy it; learning about the people around you, peeling back the rind of their lives piece by piece with mundane questions, seeing what they’re made up of.

You learn Kaminari enjoys literature, dramatically reciting love tales in the night, referencing poems you’ve never heard. He’s charming but never with actual intention. It is somehow more endearing that he doesn’t know his own allure, finding comfort in the role of a jester. Mina is pure joy wrapped in flesh. Apologetically overbearing and well meaning. Like an older sister she showed you how to securely fashion your pelt—over one shoulder, a belt fastened around the waist, keeping it in place— and let you use her combs. She speaks fast when she’s happy, hits hard when she laughs and gossips avidly, picking up new information wherever she goes.

Kirishima looked at you with kindness and iron surety in his eyes from the start. Good natured and feeling— he has a heart so big that he apologises to a flower bed after he steps on it. There’s a natural fraternal air about him that sets you at ease and the group’s clear affection and appreciation for him diminished any worry about your own treatment as a shifter.

But of everyone else in the group you found Sero the most easygoing. Conversation came fluidly and your initial diffidence was thrown by how naturally you were able to fall into place with him. He lends an ear to any questions you have, practised in the art of human interaction; a man capable of adapting to any one person he comes into contact with. As such, he is the member sent to negotiate, collect information, and make arrangements.

When you make it to the last destination on the map you are drenched in a time-steeped sunset. Sero trudges back through the brush, returning from the nearby port town. Landing at such a late hour Sero had been tasked with finding the local tavern to buy a few rooms for the night, and the lazy thumbs up he waves from a distance is proof he accomplished his goal.

“They don’t get too many travellers passing through here so I swiped up three rooms,” he huffs, coming to a stop and brushing the dirt off his pants. “They’ve got a bathhouse, too”.

Bakugo makes a noise of approval, lifting a bag over his shoulder while Kirishima carries the rest under his arms and flashes a toothy smile. “Glad it went smoothly, man”.

“Thank the Gods,” Kaminari cheers, clapping his friend on the back. “You’re a lifesaver. I can’t wait to sleep on an actual bed again”.

“Uh huh. Two twin rooms for us lowly minions,” Sero continues, his grin curling into something more sly. You get a sense of foreboding. “And of course, a double room for the newlyweds”.

Mina whistles, slipping her hand into yours and tugging. You freeze, heart in your throat, and force yourself to relax, not yet used to how tactile they can be. She’s too invested in Bakugo’s response to notice. Your eyes flicker over to find him red faced and incensed, knuckles white with the pressure he has around the drawstrings of his bag.

Sharing a room with Bakugo. Alone. Thus far you’d all been together. Either under the stars or in caves, or packed into cramped quarters stuffed with wattle and daub if a villager felt kind enough.

“You've got exactly five seconds to explain why you thought that was a good idea”.

Sero quickly put his palms up in surrender. “You gave me a budget, Bakugo. They offered to lower the price as a wedding gift. I figured it would be okay for one night”.

Bakugo jerks his head in your direction, his steely glare unmoving. The tips of his ears are pink, too, frustration unfolding across his skin. “You don’t get to decide that,” he chided, tone harsh like a hiss.

Suddenly, Sero looks rather ashamed of himself. “Shit, I’m sorry. Should’ve asked,” he says to you, rubbing at his neck as his head lowers. It’s unlike him to be so wilted— and all because of your potential discomfort.

You meet Bakugo’s eyes, gleaming intensely, already trying to scrutinise your reaction. Mina hums quietly. She tightens grip on your hand again in reassurance, the other running along your bicep. “If you want I can swap with you”.

Bakugo snorts at that, as if the idea was ridiculous, but he doesn’t shoot it down despite his clear aversion to sharing with Mina. You understood his disbelief. They behaved much like siblings, squabbling and poking at one another. It’d rouse suspicion and you didn’t fancy being chased out of town for swindling the keepers for a discount.

“Thank you guys. But it’s alright,” you reassured, mouth lifting into a small smile and reciprocating Mina‘s gentle squeeze. “I don’t mind sleeping with Bakugo”.

A few beats of silence. You see Bakugo’s expression slip, jaw loose and eyes wide for a brief moment before it twists. He turns away from the group as a chorus of suggestive crowing erupts.

Understanding your mistake almost immediately hot mortification comes over you, stifling beneath the pelt on your shoulder. “Shut up, you useless fuckin’ perverts,” Bakugo snaps, flustered and wild, swatting at the nearest victim. Kirishima feigns a wounded noise.

“Hey, I didn’t do anything!”

“Just get moving,” the barbarian marches onward, tearing his way through the overgrowth and heading for the tavern. “And walk behind me!”

His choleric mutters continue, heard even at a distance. Tucking your chin to your chest, you hide your laughter in your silken pelt as you follow after him, mouth filling with a comforting briney scent. You think Bakugo undeniably cute when he’s embarrassed; a sight you’ve had the pleasure of seeing more than once on account of his pod. That feeling from the campfire returns, fills your chest, pulsing through to your fingertips, tempting you to reach out, to touch him.

More and more you’re inundated with the need to be close. You quell the urge and tighten your grip on Mina, her cheek squished to your shoulder, loose curls the colour of blossom tickling your throat. “Don’t worry. He’s not really mad,” she tells you furtively, as if it were a big secret.

“I know,” gaze lingering on Bakugo’s back, covered by that thick red cloak, you wonder if your scent still clings to it. Contentedly, “I’m getting used to it”.

The town is beautiful. Bursting with flora and fauna, accentuated by the dusk, ocean curling around the village in a way that reminds you of mother. Nature's cradle. You cling protectively to your pelt, scenting the salt in the air and hovering closer to Bakugo. If anybody could identify a selkie skin it would be fishermen. Stray drunken locals stumble by, arm in arm with boisterous cheer. You’re greeted like a long lost friend, neither person recognising your true identity. Humans really can be hearty and genuine at their core. Life before had been so desolate in comparison, so lacking in love and colour.

“Oi,” Bakugo beckons you to his side. When you don’t fall in line he grabs your wrist, pulling you close. His natural body heat lingers like a brand. “Make sure you call me Katsuki from now on,” he instructs under his breath.

You blink at the unexpected request. The muscles in his face are tight, twitching, and his nose flares the longer you stare. Given names are important to humans in this region. Sharing them is an intimate thing, a sign of your close relationship. “Are you sure?”

“Wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t sure,” he punishes your questioning with the fleeting tightening of his grip. You can’t help it. He’s pink again and you like it. “I’m your husband, yeah? So call me by my fuckin’ name”.

The keeper waits surreptitiously by a sheltered stairwell leading to the inn above her tavern. A small Elven woman, uncloaked, the lantern overhead creating a halo of light to circle her ginger crown. She perks up when Sero hands over a small velvet sack, the drawstrings pulled tight. “For the rooms,” he emphasises, coins chiming dully against one another as he shakes it. The woman takes it and cradles the payment to her breast, exchanging the gold for three keys.

You’re guided up the stairwell and into the building, presented with a narrow corridor. There are numerous doors, decorative runes carved into the frames, a coloured piece of string hung from each handle corresponding to the colour of the keys. “It’s good to see some youngins pass through. We only ever get the same old geezers around here,” she says, “Makes for a mundane life”.

The crows' feet wrinkle by her eyes when she smiles, laughter lines framing her mouth. She hands out the keys to your pod who all rush in childish excitement to see their rooms. At last she turns to where you stand stiffly beside Katsuki.

You’re handed a key. The stem is long and thin and made with copper, the key wards in the bit uniquely shaped to your door. Threaded through the bow is a lavender string. “It isn’t much but I hope you will be comfortable for the night,” with a wink, she adds, “Congratulations to you both”.

“Thank you. We will be in your care,” your reply is tremulous, undecided whether to be pleased with the sincere acknowledgement of your marriage or nervous to be seen through. At your side, the large barbarian grunts.

It is uncharacteristic of him; always very respectful of his elders. You lean against him, just a nudge. His attention snaps to you and you smile innocently. “Be polite, Katsuki”.

Like it was meant to be spoken only by you, Katsuki’s name sits right in your mouth, lips shaping around the characters softened by warm intonation. The reaction is instantaneous. His jaw ticks. His faint blush returns. His stoic expression wanes as he looks to the keeper, who is observing the interaction with mirthful eyes. Lowering his head he mutters, “We appreciate your hospitality, ma’am”.

“You’re quite darlin’ together, aren’t you,” she comments heartily, mostly to herself, as if airing her thoughts. “We got good food and drinks downstairs, do come if you’re hungry! Blessings be upon you”.

On her departure you enter the room. Spangles of light dusted the air. While it clearly isn’t lived in, it is homely. You canvas the space. Two square-headed windows facing the street are covered by thin cloth. There is an old, tattered tapestry strung across the wall to cover up a fist sized hole, a patterned glass vase and various other unique tchotchke adorning the shelves. You drag your fingers across the brick fireplace opposite a wide double bed, mattress made of wool but compensated by the many feather pillows and blankets.

“This is good,” you say, “homely”. Though there is an animal hide on the floor, which you find rather… untoward. A soothing musky smell with overtones of caramel and vanilla rising through the cracks in the floorboards from the tavern below. You breathe it in deeply.

“It’ll do,” Katsuki voices his agreement and drops his bag with a conclusive thud. “Let me hide our stuff and we can meet with the others for food downstairs. You haven’t eaten in hours”.

The small consideration makes your heart flutter. “Ah. I’ll be there soon,” you tell him. He squints at you, attempting to mentally pry the answers out of you. “I’m okay, Katsuki. I just need a minute”.

Pausing in the centre of the room, Katsuki scrutinises you. You fidget under his intense appraisal, undecided whether it pleases you or not. It is strange to want something that often leaves you feeling excruciatingly… exposed.

You wait apprehensively and wonder if he’ll comment on your use of his name— needless, this time. After all there are no ears or eyes in these walls. You’re not sure what you’ll do if he asks you to stop.

“Are you sure?” you nod, mouth strained in a thin smile. Bakugo frowns but ultimately gives you your space. “Make sure you catch up. If you’re not down in ten minutes I’m coming back”.

“I will,” you land heavily on the edge of the bed, wrinkling the sheets as you unclip your pelt. The collar of your ill-fitted shirt slips forward with the motion to reveal cleavage, and Bakugo immediately averts his gaze.

“Whatever,” he rasps, unexpectedly shy. The door slams as he leaves. You right the collar, tugging it back up, lips pressed thin to repress the laughter that bubbles in your chest. Aimless and left to your own devices you take a solitary moment to groom the pelt in your lap, marbled and downy-soft. Brushing through the coat, fingertips trace the rings of black and brown.

Things are so different. Being a person is more overwhelming than you imagined. Being locked away had kept you in a state of inertia, suffocating in numb misery, but now you were left to grapple with the immense spectrum of human emotion. Urges and wants that you had never experienced before meeting Katsuki.

You swallow, staring at the spaces between your fingers. Spaces filled with short tan fur. Selkie marriages were simultaneously complicated and simple. Rather, they were so simple that they bore unnecessary complications.

A stolen pelt creates a one sided bond but upon return it is consummated. Between two selkies in courting pelts were exchanged, solidifying their promise to one another, deeply unified by their magic. Elder podmates said that it meant they belonged to only one another. Abandoning the tides, in a way.

Since being a pup the voice of the sea was a ceaseless whisper you were always aware of. Yet since Katsuki held your seal skin, unknowingly cradled your very being and returned it to you with only sincere intention, that voice had gradually been ebbing away.

Would there come a day that you no longer recalled your identity as a selkie—? No. You quickly smother the thought. The immaterial, chimerical magic that made up your very being could never be forgotten. And deep down, you knew Katsuki would not let you. Indeed, you can only picture his surly retaliation if you ever woke up and could not recall your lineage.

With that you get to your feet. Ten minutes would soon pass and his probable wrath was enough motivation. You consider the pelt in your grasp and give a surreptitious glance around the room for somewhere to hide it. Taking it into a tavern full of drunken strangers and mariners seemed like a much worse idea.

After rolling it up tight you stuff it behind the pillows at the head of the bed, further pulling over the coverlets. The hallway is quiet when you step out. You lock the door, tensing at the loud click. You can hear muffled laughter rising through the floors.

It grows in volume when you step out into the evening air. Slurred conversation and bickering pour through the tavern windows. At front is a large, arched door, overshadowed by a dark blue awning. The wood panels are weatherworn and rustic, covered in rivets. You reach for the brass handle. It’s heavy in your palm as you turn it, using your full strength to push forward.

First, you are met with a crescendo of boisterous cheers. Stepping inside, your eyes are drawn to the green dyed sailcloths hung from the rafters above the bar. The establishment is modestly sized, enough that there is a longtable set up in the centre of the room and a fair few smaller roundtables dotted with stools.

Across the far end of the tavern is a line of small booths, separated by wooden screens decorated with mosaic carvings. Oil lamps are hooked on the walls, casting a warm sepia hue that seems to cohesively bring everything together. It felt welcoming, and intimate, like approaching a friend by the fire.

You try to seek out a familiar head of blonde hair. The place is busy but nobody bats an eyelid at your entrance, lively enough that you cannot hear clearly above the overlapping voices around you, intermingling with the low playing of music.

“Lost, stranger?”

You startle.

She finds you easily, like she’d been waiting. Mina curls an arm around your back, pressure light as if she was suddenly worried about being too familiar. It tightens when you lean into her and she smiles with more vigour.

“C’mon. Let’s get you something to eat”.

The distance between you and them is barely that of a crevice, but it is daunting, yawning like a trench. Over in the far left booth, both secluded and closest to the bar, is a group of friends. Directly beneath a lantern strung onto a hook, Katsuki is bathed in orange and nursing a drink. The others are tucked away in the booth, cups and plates lining the table top. Their laughter slows as you approach and you battle the urge to recoil from everyone’s eye. Mina, sensing the discomfort, begins to rub her hand along your back.

“All of you scoot up,” she asserted, wiggling her pointer finger. “Make some space for us!”

They move around on the long, curved seat to make space. You end up on Katsuki’s right, sandwiched in by Sero who smiles, though awkward, earlier remorse persisting as you take your place beside him. “What’s the verdict, are you happy with your room? Best I got from Bakugo is a grunt”.

“Yeah, I like it. You did good picking this place. It’s cosy,” you glance over toward Katsuki. “Beats a cave. The fireplace is nice. I wonder if it works…”

Mina tucks into Kirishima’s side where he sits across from you. Most of the plates are piled up in front of him, food aplenty to sate his dragon-sized appetite. His chin dimples as his bottom lip juts forward, “You guys get a fireplace? That’s so unfair”.

“C’mon, Kiri. The fireplace is there for…”—Kaminari leans in, suggestively lowering his voice and nudging Katsuki’s left arm—“…ambiance”.

You feel a gentle nudge. Katsuki, ignoring his friend's harmless influx of innuendos, slides a glass across the table toward you. “What is it?” you ask, bringing it to your lips. The liquid is dark, red like fresh blood, but it smells fruity. Before he can tell you, you’ve taken a sip.

It is weighty on your tongue, unlike anything you’ve tasted before. Cherries and jam and oddly well paired notes of spicy tobacco. The corner of his mouth curls into a barely there smile, pleased at the immediate delighted sound. He brings forward a large opened bottle and presents it to you.

“Barmaid gave us this to share,” Katsuki taps at the calligraphy on the label. “It’s wine. Expensive too, usually”.

“Guess marriage does have benefits,” Sero gibed, raising a glass of amber liquid you assume to be beer. Expression open in sincere merriment, he declares, “To the happy couple!”

Six glasses come together, toasting to your accidental bond, alcohol spilling over your hands. Katsuki’s cup is there too, his monotonous voice blending into their hurrahs. A hand slides from the back of the booth to rest upon your shoulders and you lean into it, heat prickling over your skull at the feel of his bare skin. Blood thinning, belly full, inhibitions lost to bliss.

Mina brings her hands together in a succinct clap, weaving her fingers. “Another round!” she beams, and the enthusiasm stirs once more.

The evening crawls on. Your modest group barely puts a dent into the chaotic din but it sure can eat. You’re made to swallow your fill under Katsuki’s direction—watching you closer than he did anyone else—and savour the dishes, heady and complimented by your flavoursome wine.

Stories pass through loosened lips, new and old. You don’t mention it when Kaminari repeats himself twice over— nobody else does, either. You all sink into the balmy atmosphere, sharing food and conversation, relaxing entirely for what felt like the first time in months.

Sero chokes on his drink as Kirishima recounts the story of when he and Katsuki first became friends. How the tiny blonde barbarian would sneak up on him through the bushes, throw rocks at his tender head, and challenge him to battle all in pursuit of friendship.

Your shoulders shake, burrowing into Katsuki’s side to sap his warmth. Bare skin pebbles as your fingertips skim his ribs, poking near his armpit. “Would it kill you to communicate like a normal person?”

Trembling mouth pressed firmly together, Katsuki refuses to give anyone the satisfaction of making him laugh. You see through it plain as day. “Shut up,” he grumbles.

“Didn’t even flinch when ma threatened to eat him if I came home with any more teeth missing,” Kirishima continued, sighing happily. “My bro is so manly”.

Steadily the energy begins to dwindle into a pleasant hum. You’re together, drunk on wine and laughter and a sense of harmony. Being with them is startlingly effortless. It feels like family.

In the recesses of your mind you think, I don’t want to let go.

“Hey,” Katsuki says, sharper when nobody hears him. “Hey, shitheads”. You lift your head from where it had come to rest on his shoulder, cheek slightly numb. “Think I’m going to head up”.

You hear a chorus of sluggish objections with no real heat behind them. While he’s fighting off their interrogation you simply watch him, awkwardly angled and ignoring the twinge in your neck. The bead in his braid glints in the low light.

Sensing your stare, Katsuki looks down at you, dappled by lamp light. The flames dance in his irises, gaze unbearably soft, as it had been that first night by the campfire. You hold your breath when he sets his thumb with his tongue and uses it to wipe a crumb from your cheek. The touch is like a spark to flint. A fleeting sort of hope stirs in your chest, like this is all you’d been waiting for, that the universe was finally making things right for you.

Then he snatches his hand back, as though waking up to what he was doing.��

“I’m going to bed. You idiots better behave,” he groused, returning his focus to the group. You mourn his attention. “If we get kicked out early I’ll kill you”.

“You love us too much,” Mina tucks her drunken smirk into the cradle of her palm, arm almost slipping with the weight. Cloudy eyes follow Katsuki as he forces his way out of the booth like a bull. “Admit it!”

Bending at the waist he meets her stare head on and deadpans, “Die”. Mina merely laughs and plants a kiss on his forehead that he aggressively rubs away as he leaves.

You stay a little longer but find your mood dampening. Katsuki’s absence makes known an ache usually quelled by the weight of your pelt, almost as though his presence had placated that innate yearning for home. The thought leaves you dizzy.

“I think I’m going to go, too,” you announce out of the blue.

Expressions fall, concerned. Kaminari tilts into your space. You barely even blink at the proximity now. “Everything alright? Y’dont feel sick or anything, do you?”

“No, not at all—“ he frowns at you, unconvinced, “—I just feel like going for a soak before bed. Sero, you said there was a bathhouse?”

Sero perks up at his name and nods loosely, head barely held by his neck. “Yeah! They’re around the back, apparently. Just walk beyond the stairwell,” he shoots you a thumbs up. “They’re mixed but only guests can use ‘em, so don’t worry about it being crowded”.

That’s comforting to know. If luck was on your side it would be empty. You duck out of the tavern with a final wave and a promise to see them in the morning. Thankfully the boisterous chatter grows dull as you step into the night air, stopping to look up the stairwell. You hope Katsuki can sleep through it.

Heeding Sero’s instructions you follow the beaten path around the back of the tavern. There you discover another building, smaller, but with a steeped tile roof and shuttered windows. Curious, you gently lift the green dyed curtain hung in the doorway and enter the earthen-floored threshold.

You are led to what you guess is a small changing area. Cabinets left open, again each handle corresponding the key colours. You find a lavender ribbon and peer around the empty space, contemplating getting undressed.

Gathering courage you pull the strings in your shirt slack, slipping your arms from the sleeves and pulling it over your head. Tepid air breathes over your skin as you push down your pants, stepping out of them where they pool at your feet. Your clothes are folded and left on the shelf, boots lined neatly by the doorway.

Further in is an open space covered in tiles of smooth green. There are low stools and basins with natural running water, washcloths and soaps. While unpracticed you are at least somewhat familiar with bathhouse etiquette. Sitting hesitantly, hissing as your bare thighs meet the cool wood, you dip one of the cloths to soak and begin to scrub at your body.

The knots in your muscles become undone with the repetitive motions, again and again until you’re lathered in bubbles. You breathe in, feeling the humidity cling to your lungs, and rinse away the soaps.

Eventually you dub yourself clean enough to enter the baths. The seafoam tiles soon taper to stone that borders the baths. You take in the tall ceiling with beautiful carvings along the walls and high placed glass windows allowing the moon to shine in easily. The patterns are comfortingly familiar. Shells, waves, gulls, rock formations and arches. Though the bathhouse is much warmer, hot tendrils of steam rising from the bubbling water.

Penumbral light glinted on the water's surface. It held a distinct earthy scent, rolling in from the nearby springs. Again, you are reminded of a tide pool, but deeper. Clear and clean and natural. What immediately seizes your attention is the familiar man sitting close by, a head of wet golden hair still somehow holding its shape, the loose strands that typically make up his braid now tucked behind his ear.

Katsuki tips back to rest on the bath's edge. A thin white towel is laid across his face. Your gaze follows the slope of his shoulders, roving over his defined chest, skin pink with the heat. Rivulets run between his pecs to his sternum, lower body distorted below the water but patently bare, same as you. You exhale a breath you hadn’t known you were holding and quickly look away from his lap.

Time spent with Katsuki taught you that he hated being treated delicately. Tip toeing around this was not an option. You would join him in the baths and behave as normal. But—

Humans were fickle about nakedness. Where should you sit? What is an appropriate distance? Straying too far could make him defensive, yet getting too close might—

“Are you going to stand there all night?”

Startled, the soles of your feet almost slip on the smoothed stone. “You knew it was me?”

Katsuki scoffs. The towel remains over his eyes, obstructing his view, that which you were grateful for. Your previous indifference had so abruptly burgeoned into apprehension. Just the thought that he might see you this glaringly bare and skinless, a body without boundaries, made your stomach swoop. It is a peculiar sensation; you wanted him to look and you didn’t.

“Nobody else thinks that loud. Unless you’re Deku,” you can imagine his eyes rolling, the exasperation clear in his voice, though not unkind. The corded muscles in his shoulders shift beautifully as his arm stretches across the bath’s edge, wrist limp to allow his fingertips to breach the surface. He flicks the water in your direction, creating capillary waves. “Just— fuckin’ get in already”.

“Right,” you laugh quietly under your breath, descending the steps into the baths. The heated water is soothing, climbing the length of your lengths, eventually coming to rest above your hips.

You sink near to him and pointedly keep your eyes above his collar. Katsuki neither twitches nor acknowledges your approach. In fact, you aren’t sure he is even breathing. It occurs to you that he too could be nervous, tempted to look but refraining. The possibility of being wanted by him brings a sudden sharp sort of awareness that slides through you and heightens your senses.

Outstretched fingertips brush featherlight between your shoulder blades where you lean back against the wall. You sit with your knees close to your breast, relieved to be covered. “I thought you were heading to bed,” you comment quietly.

“Saw the path and followed it,” he replies, stiff shoulder jerking as he shrugs. “Wanted some quiet”.

A deep pink flush is spreading across his collarbones, clawing up the column of his throat. Your rational mind knows it is caused by the steam, yet the greedy part of you, the part so distinctly human, wants to know if you affect him as much as he affects you.

These feelings had gradually been accumulating since the very beginning. You’ve no idea where to put them. The voice in your hindbrain all but panics at the idea of leaving. You’ve spent a lifetime listening to your instincts and they’re telling you to keep your place at his side.

You inhale until the pressure in your chest is smothered by your lungs and your heart beat slows. Exhale. The water shifts in sync with your subtle movement. Emboldened by the wine in your veins you slide closer. The soft hair on your legs prickles, everything in you gravitating toward him. Katsuki doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Always staring,” a flustered growl snaps you back to reality. “You got something to say to me?”

“No,” you answer too quickly.

“Good,” his upper body sinking lower. After a length of silence it must get to him. Voice pitched low, as though afraid to disturb the atmosphere, he mutters, “Ever had a bath this big, back at that shitty castle?”

You snort. He turns at the sound and the surface ripples as you quickly smother it with your wet palm. It’s easy to picture the searing glare beneath the face towel. “Sorry. It’s just,” your mouth pulls into a tipsy grin. “All things considered, this place is pretty small to me”.

“Dumbass. You know what I meant,” he huffs, not bothering to hide his fond exasperation. “The sea doesn’t count”.

Humans are cute, you concluded. Trying to emulate the ocean in their warm wooden structures. “It counts,” you insist, moving closer still. You’re giddy in the water, with him. Like you’re sharing some special part of yourself in a strange way. “Have you been?”

A rough hum, “Where?”

“The sea”.

“Which one?”

The steam must be making you light headed. You’re tucked to his side again. Thigh to thigh. Skin against skin. You are acutely aware of your shared nakedness. His arm has slipped over the bath's edge to drape around your shoulders. “The closest, obviously. Or any of them,” you knock your knees together. “It’s not like you to be purposefully obtuse”.

“Big attitude for a little fish,” he mutters, free hand reaching for the towel, sliding it up to his hairline and revealing a crooked grin. Your heart squeezes. “Course I’ve been in the ocean. Flown over it on Red a few times too”.

You want to do that, too. To bear witness to the wind driving the currents from above, feel the sea salt spray sharp on your cheeks, touch the unreachable seam where your two worlds become indistinguishable.

“Never bathed in it, though?”

“No,” he drawled, an impatient edge to his tone. “I don’t plan on giving the finfolk an eyeful of my dick anytime soon”.

You laugh, “Like you are now, you mean?”

Katsuki tears off the face towel before you’ve any time to process it. The water thrashes. You daren’t look away. His stare has a certain ferality, pupils dilated, fair lashes damp from the steam and clumped into little spikes; it pins you in place like prey.

The blush across his chest is matched in his cheeks. A droplet slides down the delicate slope of his nose. You feel the surface of the water calm and settle just above your breast. You watch his gaze flicker reflexively to them, then to the ceiling, then clamping shut with a growl. Apprehension pulses through you and your thighs clench.

“You—” he inhales sharply, gathering his thoughts. You track the movement of his tongue as it swipes across his lips. Thickly, Katsuki asks, “What are you trying to do here, exactly?”

A sense of dejection comes over you and your immediate response is to feign innocence. “Soak with you,” which is no more than a half truth. You attempt to create some distance and his arm coils around your waist. Any effort to twist away from him proves futile; a snake that constricts the more you struggle. He doesn’t allow you to slip away, hand hot at your hip.

“Yeah?” but there’s no real bite, no vitriol as he drags you closer. “Soaking, s’that what you call this? Rubbing up against me, practically climbing into my lap?”

You might feel demeaned if not for the lust hemming his words. His grip is bruising, fingers kneading soft flesh. You can see this for what it is— a choice, a question. He’s confused, and wanting. Presenting an opportunity for you to change your mind in the face of his callousness. Katsuki is kind, in his own way.

Your palms come to rest over his sternum, pushing with no real effort, an accomplice in whatever cat and mouse game he was trying to play. His breathing picks up, abdomen clenching. You stare where bodies meet, low light reflecting off the wet sheen. Beneath your touch his heartbeat ricochets around his ribs.

Katsuki calls you. Your name is barely above a whisper. Peering up through your lashes as his hand comes to cup your nape, the other massages simple shapes into your hip, his fingers splayed across your navel. You exhale shakily as his pinky fits into the crease of your thigh.

He cradles your nape, guides you into his magnetism, and then you’re tilting— your world with it— into a careful kiss. Static blankets your thoughts. Katsuki’s lips slot over your own, a gentle press that quickly grows feverish as your tongue traces the seam of his mouth.

Exhaling harshly through his nose he drags you over his lap, the bath water splashing onto the stone tiles, holding you to his front in a way that makes it difficult to discern where you end and he begins. You have all of him now. Half hard under you and tense like he was exerting effort not to do anything about it. Hands wandering, mapping out the topography of your body, clutching greedily at your thighs. Smoke fills your throat, a tang of explosive magic lingering in the grooves of your teeth.

Minutes passed imperceptibly. You leave it feeling as though all the sinew in your body had unravelled, undone in his embrace like loose skeins of yarn. Katsuki doesn’t appear any more composed than you are; staring at you, slack with hunger, jaw relaxed the way a beast would do to taste the air. Palms cupping his cheeks, thumbs moving in idle back and forth motions under his eyes, you smile—

“Katsuki,” you murmur reverently. For reasons you can’t understand, it wakes him up. Snaps him out of his stupor. Panic flits over his features and you’re being pushed away, deposited back into the water. It rocks with the abrupt movement, waves breaking against your chest as he brusquely wades toward the steps with the small towel barely covering his modesty.

Echoing louder now, “Katsuki?”

And he was gone.

You stare at the entrance to the baths for a long time, willing him to return. You stare until your eyes sting and you’re forced to blink. All that’s left is the soft sound of the running springs, your shallow breath, and the muffled chanting of a few drunken men.

An emptiness makes home in your chest. Bereft, you follow in his steps, exiting the baths and heading to the changing room. You pat yourself down, rough towel absorbing the moisture, and pull on your clothes.

A hopeful spark catches when a figure ducks in under the curtain. Snuffed out, then, when Mina greets you cheerily. She seems to have sobered up for the most part, more coherent than you’d last seen her.

“You took a dip too?” she bounces on the balls of her feet as she undoes her shirt buttons, oblivious to your somber disposition. “I saw Bakugo come from this way too. Looked a little constipated if you ask me. I thought hot baths were supposed to relax you, not—”

Finally, she looks at you. Her voice stops as her brows pinch into a frown. You offer a brittle smile and endure the scrutiny. “Did something happen?” she asks worriedly.

Your throat closes up. Your teeth sink into your cheek and lower your gaze to the tiled floor, cracks overlapping as your vision blurs. Mina reaches for you. She halts in your periphery, thoughts and actions misaligned. A flash of hesitance, and then determination. She strides across the threshold to pull you into an embrace. Her arms slip around your shoulders, crossing over one another at your nape, tightening.

The tension begins to soften. Your body slumps, sinking into her kindhearted warmth as the rigidity weakens with your resolve. Bowing into the crook of her neck, you inhale her gentle scent. A soliflore smell, a flower you don’t know the name of, earthy undertones and hints of saké.

Your eyes are wet. Tears cling to your lashes as you blink. The moths dancing in the lamp light blurs, small specks of white stretching and flickering like pallid butterflies. Breathing shuttered, there’s a thickness in your throat that squeezes your voice into a frail whisper.

“Thank you”.

She hums, rubbing a comforting hand along the top of your spine. Her natural heat seeps through the thin fabric of your shirt. Though her arms are muscled they are also supple, like her chest, like her waist. You haven’t been held like this since you last saw your podmates.

After a few beats she asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head, grasping your bearings, “No”. It’s best left between you and Katsuki.

“If you’re sure,” Mina gives a final crushing hug before releasing you. “I’m bunking with Sero tonight. Knock if you need anything”.

“I will,” you say on the end of a shuddering exhale. “I’ll see you in the morning”.

She hums, watching apprehensively as you make your way through the changing rooms. The retention of her heat clings to your clothing when you step into the cold night air. Your boots rub at the sore skin around your ankles, fitting loose, having foregone tying the laces. They encumber your steps, obtrusively loud and ungainly on your journey up the stairwell.

A closed door should not be so daunting. Your hand hovers over the handle, steadily turning it, flinching as the locks click open. Low light floods in from the hallway and your eyes adjust to the darkness between blinks, the shape of a figure under the covers sharpening into view. Katsuki is laid on his back, hand disappearing under the pillow beneath his head where your bunched up pelt resides.

Hesitant, you shut the door and kick off your dirty shoes. You tiptoe around the frame and climb into bed. You try to alleviate your weight, balanced between your hands and knees so the mattress won’t dip, yet it is futile. “I’m sorry, Katsuki,” you whisper, feeling fragile as you lower into the linens. He’s awake, you can tell despite his efforts to appear otherwise, because you feel him stroking your sealskin between his thumb and forefinger.

“…Shouldn’t have done that,” his cadence is unsettlingly calm; gently sheathing the sharp words. “We’ve been getting too comfortable, letting shit influence us. It was just the magic talking”.

What?

“It’s not—”

“Go to sleep,” the volume raises in momentary frustration, but as quick as it came, anger dissipating. Dropping his head into the pillows he looks as defeated as you feel. He closes his eyes. “I won’t fuckin’ do anything to you so just. Sleep”.

You try, fitfully. The atmosphere is unbearable, keeping you glued to the far side of the bed lest you accidentally touch one another. Pressing your fingertips to your lips, you remember. You ache. You stare into the shadows and wonder at what point did the intentions become so crossed.

Katsuki valued the right to choose above all else. You liked that about him. He respected and surrounded himself with people who steered their own destiny, marching to the beat of his own drum; a rhythm you had fortuitously interrupted. In his mind he’d given into a temptation, and that act of indulgence was somehow the same as losing in battle.

Katsuki viewed your relationship as an infliction he needed to fight against.

That knowledge hurts you in ways you hadn’t expected. The words “we’re getting too comfortable” reverberated around your skull. Perhaps he was right. Somewhere along the lines you forgot that these truly were temporary circumstances, childishly wishing that maybe he’d come to love you, that you could simply accept this reality and grow into each other like a child into new shoes.

You blink. Linens rise and fall with his shallow breath. Katsuki’s mouth is open, the corner of his mouth wet with drool. His lips smack together as he bundles you closer. Unconscious, yet still seeking you out. He’s devastating even when he’s not trying to be.

Sleep feels impossible.

Then you wake.

Morning spills her dewy light throughout the room. Katsuki’s side of the bed is empty— made up and tucked at the corners. Cold. You are suddenly a distance apart and scrambling to make it all better again.

You push up into a sitting position. The bedsheets shift and pool around your hips, creasing the perfect slate Katsuki left. You rummage for the pelt hidden behind the pillows, dragging it out and around your shoulders, ducking your nose into the dark fur for comfort before tying it to your midriff.

Judging by the sun’s position you would guess it is still quite early. Sluggish movement can be heard through the thin walls, indicating that others are awake. Knowing Katsuki he would want to set off early to find Uraraka, especially after last night.

Another figure joins you in the hallway. Kaminari remains unaware of your presence as he fiddles clumsily with the key, squawking when it almost slips between his fingers. He’s dishevelled, shirt half tucked into his belt, cuffs undone and hung off his wrists; there’s still an impression of his pillow printed on his left cheek.

Having finally turned the lock, Kaminari spins on his heel with a happy hum. The tune escalates into a shriek as he notices you standing a few feet away. “Holy—! Warn a guy, would ya?” he clutches at his chest, exhaling harshly. “I think my heart just stopped”.

“Sorry Kaminari,” amused by his shrill intonation and melodramatics, you smile for the first time that morning. It exaggerates the bags under your eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” he falls into step with you, knocking your elbows together on your way out into the stairwell. “I don’t think you can say the same, though,” his mouth twists into a smirk, “did Kacchan keep you up all night?”

Normally the teasing wouldn’t bother you. In many ways you saw it as a sign of acceptance into the group. Now you wince like somebody had carelessly pressed a bruise on your body. Kaminari, for all his obliviousness, knows when to drop the masquerade.

Your smile tightens uncomfortably as his fingers circle your wrist. In daylight you are left feeling exposed, unable to temper the regret written so plainly across your face. His mouth opens and shuts, searching fruitlessly for the right words, only to be interrupted by a callous shout from below.

Katsuki’s voice is incredibly distinct. He’s yelling, which is nothing new, but now it is with genuine frustration. Kirishima, Mina and Sero are there alongside him, speaking in low tones as you would to an untamed animal.

Kaminari tugs at your sleeve and gives you a meaningful glance, gently coaxing you to the bottom of the stairs. He must’ve at least connected Katsuki’s poor mood with your own. “Kacchan, my man. It is too early for all this shouting,” he implored, settling back into his jovial self.

You collect yourself, trying to retain shape and rationality as Kaminari draws Katsuki’s ire. Those vermillion eyes rove over you, head to toe, before flickering to the man on your right. Fast, like he’s afraid to look too long. Nostrils flare. The warm puff of air from his nose is visible in the cool air.

“It’s late enough. What took you so long?” Katsuki snarled, poking a finger harshly between Kaminari’s eyebrows. “The keep told me cheeks is planning on leaving today, so all of you get moving”.

Kaminari pouts, rubbing at the spot. The pale skin turns slightly pink. Unheeding of the wary scrutiny he is receiving, Katsuki charges onwards in expectation that everyone will follow. Kirishima raises a brow at his shape verbiage but doesn’t comment. He takes you under his arm in a half hug, sharing a look of understanding with Mina and the others.

Sero recounts their findings. According to the townspeople, Uraraka, the occultist, landed her abode miles outside of their bounds and set up wards in the valley to confuse strangers. It steered them in opposing directions and sent them in circles, practically making her impossible to find. You’re worried clear up until your group crests the precipice of a steep hill several hours later.

You take in the gentle undulations of earth and fauna. Grass tall enough to brush your shoulders, wildflowers and weeds hugging the barely worn path, sparingly tended nature left to flourish. The magic becomes apparent with proximity. It hangs in the air like humidity, an unnatural sheen muddying your vision. Katsuki continued with brass-bound determination; weaving skilfully through the runes, barrier fracturing under the pressure of his explosive palms.

There’s a quaint cottage in the middle of the glen, done up with a sweet ivy on the walls, latticed strips of wood around the windows, and a cobbled chimney towering from the pink tiled roof. Each windowsill appeared to have a different unidentifiable herb growing on it. A small, circular stained glass window in the door refracted the afternoon light, a knocker below it. Hanging by the door frame is a wind chime, shells tied to strings producing delicate crisp sounds in the breeze; in the effort to knock, Katsuki shoulders it carelessly, and the tune turns sour.

His fist comes down with hard momentum, stopped midway by another. “Be careful,” Kirishima gently chides. Katsuki shoves his hand off, sparing him an incredulous glare, which the shifter subjugates with a pointed reminder: “She won't help you if you bust her door down, bro. Play nice”.

Katsuki grunted his understanding, jaw clenched. He raps his knuckles on the wood. The sound is dull, and you stare down at your scuffed boots as an unpleasant pang of anxiety knocks around your chest. A voice shouts from inside, somebody scurrying around, then the door is pulled open.

“Can I—Bakugo?!”

“Uraraka,” Katsuki greets bluntly, giving a short nod. It is the first time you’ve ever heard him say her name. His hands flex at his sides, restless. Through gritted teeth he adds, “Deku sent me. I need your help with something”.

“Oh,” Uraraka exhales in disbelief. She steps back, pink slippered feet in your periphery. “Come in, then. I haven’t seen you guys in forever…”

Their voices fade into the background. All at once subconscious acts like breathing and blinking become tiresome. Hearing him let go of his pride felt so final. You fall away, stuck in a cold fog. Your gait is uneven as you remind yourself to put one foot in front of the other, incognisant to the worried looks thrown your way.

You remember being seated on a plush feather-pillowed sofa. Hands running over your shoulders, grounding you. You reach for your pelt, sinking fingers into the downy fur, and find no comfort in it. Now you’re here it feels more like a husk, leaden and hollow, ready for you to be stuffed into.

“You married a selkie by accident?” Uraraka blanched, her volume rousing you from your haze. “You know, Bakugo, for someone so smart your ignorance is truly astounding”.

“Can you fucking reverse it or not?”

“Reverse it. Are you kidding? You’re not. Gods, Bakugo—breaking a soul bond isn’t common,” Uraraka snaps, rubbing roughly at her eyelids as she loses patience. You feel a pang of guilt, that which worsens as it unearths the hope that perhaps she wouldn’t be able to separate you from him. “Most of the methods are based on myth. You realise it will be incredibly painful, and possibly for nothing?”

You take in the surroundings while they continue to bicker. The cottage is modest. A small foyer leads to the living space, rugs of various shapes and colours laid to insulate a path through the house, runes and scrawls carved into the hardwood walls. Logs presumably for fuelling the hearth monopolise much of the space, spilling out from the nook in which they’re stacked. There is nothing particularly otherworldly, at least not where you can see it. Uraraka obviously lives within her means, a humble and frugal person despite wielding magic of her calibre.

“I do have something I can try, ” she sighs with a sidelong glance. The skin on her lip breaks between her teeth. Your prolonged silence has likely done nothing to reassure her. You try to feign interest, to smile and express gratitude, but she grimaces.

“What do we have to do?”

“Essentially I can sever the bond at the stem but not the root,” the group is quiet, tense as they listen. Mina’s grip is bruising, as though making sure you were still there. “The dissolution of your marriage will only be complete when the selkie returns to the sea. Within a day or two they’ll… forget you”.

You sense the atmosphere darken. Katsuki shifts his weight in your periphery. Neither one of you can look at the other. Whether he’s threatened by your feelings or ashamed of them you can’t be sure, but what you know is that they are real, sown and tended in the weeks you spent together.

Kirishima exhales a shuddered breath. His big body crouches before you, warm hand resting on your knee. Kaminari and Sero linger on either side, watching over the scene, wearing grief plainly on their faces. A broken part of you wants to laugh. They are acting as if this is your wake.

“Are you sure about this?” he implores, discreet and unintentionally cruel. If you were to say no, what of you then? Nothing to do but follow them on their journey, dragging along like the hide of some shorn animal. Stuck waiting for Katsuki to resent you over an incredibly frustrating and misplaced presumption that he played a part in fabricating your thoughts and feelings.

Uraraka’s method may well cleave the ties created in your accidental matrimony. You trust in her capabilities because Katsuki clearly respects them. You’ll say yes. And after it all, when your soul has been excavated, when you’ve gone home crying to your mother, rocked to sleep in her gentle undertow, you will still stubbornly want him.

The thought comes unbidden, a sudden clarity that overcomes you. At that point he would have no room to question your will. “I’m sure,” you say, still breathless with the realisation. “You can go ahead with it, Uraraka”.

Hesitating in her movement, Uraraka considers you for a moment longer before disappearing down the hall. When she returns she pulls seven tear shaped crystals from a velvet satchel. Dread churns in your stomach, sensing the energy emanating from them.

She begins to recite machinations beyond your comprehension. Opalescent rays of light burst from within her enclosed fist where it pressed against her mouth, dappling sentient shadows across her face, now taut with concentration. Her features ripple and distort, not unlike a reflection on the ocean's surface, then fades into obscurity as the spell settles into its conduit.

Uraraka hands the lustre of the stone to you, knuckles pale as she squeezes the magic out into your cupped palms. As a pup you would try to drink sunlight, specks chased across the seabed as the clouds shifted, caught like a cat to a mouse only to remain empty handed. Light was not made up of solid matter— it was intangible. To be felt, seen, but not touched.

Yet it is swirling in your hands like that lovely warm wine from the night before, slipping through the thin cracks in your fingers. “Drink it,” she coaxes gently.

You look at Katsuki. His eyes flicker up to meet your own. There’s an awful urgency coursing through your body, frozen like a fawn, something inside willing you to stop. Begging him to speak up. He lowers his gaze, expression pinched and inwardly furious.

Heel to chin, you tip your head back as if drinking from a cup. Her magic is entirely flavourless, waning with your own imagination as if it were allowing you to choose the taste yourself. The consistency is like steam; inhaled rather than swallowed, and hot on the roof of your mouth.

Elemental magic was external in the way it bursts forth from the user, often causing flesh wounds or dramatic change in the terrain. You think of Katsuki, the calamity at his fingertips, juxtaposed by the tender manner in which he would always touch you, cauterising your fear. Uraraka’s magic is unforgiving and uniquely invasive. It is so much worse than being burned.

It spreads through your sinuses like searing wildfire, pressure balloons behind your eye sockets, undoing the seams that make up the very fabric of your being. Waves of nausea engulf you, throat tight and constricted. Breathing laboured and irregular, you fight against the urge to retch it all up.

It’s too much. The incorporeal spell pierces through your mind, tearing at the bond, more overwhelming than anything you’ve ever been dealt. Knife-like pain persists after her chanting stops. You wince and cradle your head, weeping as it passes. Left in its wake is a muted soreness throbbing across your brain.

“Hi,” Uraraka is before you, ducking to examine for any injury. Careful, her fingers encircle your wrists and pry your hands away. “You’re okay. Can you look at me?”

You squint, reluctant to blink and irritate the soreness around your eyes. “How’s your vision?” she asked, sotto voce. Her touch is deliberate and gentle, slightly pulling down your bottom eyelids, petting over your jaw and down the nape of your neck, feeling for something. “Does anything feel wrong, or out of place?”

Wrong? your mind echoes. Out of place? Cold is creeping into your muscles, gritty and dense like wet sand. You’re unnerved by the veil of apathy that settles around you. “I don’t think I’m injured. The light is more intense. Hurts,” you admit, voice breaking.

Everything that remains the same yet is somehow more drab, lacking colour and difficult to look at. Your friends, clinging to each other. Your Katsuki, staring back at you. “But I can still see everything”.

“Good,” she breathes, relief entirely palpable. If this is success then you wonder what the worst outcome might’ve been. “That’s good. If you reach for the bond, is it there?”

You’re not sure what she means. Seeking connection you clutch your sealskin to your front, kneading at the familiar fur. It’s minor but it’s back— the voice belonging to the tide, beckoning you to shift again. “I don’t think so,” you reply.

“Then there’s only one thing left to do,” Uraraka smiles and covers your hands with her own. You sense the tips of her fingers ever so slightly across your collar where they brush the pelt bunched in your fists. “You’re free now. You can go back home”.

Her soothing countenance might as well be dry grass to your precipitous anger. “Right,” you deadpan, voice entirely devoid of emotion. Best kept that way, lest you release all your bubbling frustrations onto a woman that only wanted to help you; in her eyes—and the rest—you were just another trapped, useless selkie.

That anger carries you to your feet. You want to cry but the tears don’t come. When you exit the cottage with a curt bow and a ‘thank you’ you find yourself in the lead for once, marching ahead of the group. They remain a few feet behind, muttering amongst each other. Without the view of Katsuki’s back you feel lonely. Even so you keep your hurried pace, too afraid to turn around and be inundated with questions.

The journey back passes in a blur. Hours, surely, because you’re ready to pass out from the exertion. Loose dirt and geosmin clings to your clothes. Shadows stretch across the emptying streets as dark cloud cover canopies the town, sparse instances of light rainfall that stick to your skin. There's a chill in the air now, a bite to it that rattles your bones and quickens your breath. It’s damp, imbued with the scent of sea salt.

You don’t stop, not when the desperate calls of your name begin. Further up the dock is lit golden, lanterns lining cobbled roads and emitting a warm orange glow. You trudge through the quieting bustle, workers scurrying to shelter, while enduring a pervasive sense of wrongness.

You don’t know what to do with this freedom, this precipice, so joyless and empty. Slowing to descend weather-worn steps onto the beach there’s a presence at your heel. “Shit. Would you slow—!” Katsuki moves to stop you. His fingers flex, start to close around your wrist. Then they hesitate and fall away, clenching at his side until all the blood recedes from his knuckles. “You don’t need to immediately run off into the damn water”.

“It’s easier this way,” and quicker, you think.

“What?”

Listening to the sea sings an ancient litany, you let your anger wash away with the oncoming tide. The whiplash is intense. Your lips tremble, pulling into a tearful smile, laughter bubbling up through your chest, choked by the swell in your throat. “I think I understand why you’re always yelling now,” cumulus clouds pass overhead and bring with them a curtain of rain. “Being human is very melodramatic”.

Katsuki clearly hadn’t expected that, of all things. His expression softens in his surprise. The short hairs by his temples are laid flat, braid swinging in the breeze, the fur around his cloak dark and saturated. “That’s what this is? Baby’s first tantrum?” his tone is mean, and your hackles would rise if he were not visibly deflating. Katsuki reacts to vulnerability like a wounded dog. He laughs despite himself and scratches at his neck, “Fuck. I thought you’d be happy, or something close to it”.

Standing a few feet behind him, Kirishima, Sero, Mina and Kaminari are linked together, waiting to approach. They remain in your line of sight as you consider the barbarian in front of you. A cold shock billows through his cloak, a wave crashing onto the shore. He shivers, but remains stubbornly rooted to the steps.

“I’m not happy,” you lamented. “I’m going to miss you. You are an impossible man, Katsuki. Impossible to forget. I wish you’d believe that”.

Katsuki’s mouth opens and shuts. Silence falls once again, and he can’t find the words to fill it. Your fingers work at the belt keeping your hide secure, tugging it loose and letting the sealskin unfurl, blanketing the length of your body.

Mina takes this as an indication that you are leaving. She rushes ahead, stumbling past a stunned Katsuki, gathering you into her arms. The pelt is trapped between your bodies as you curl into the embrace. You feel yourself warm up, the wet winds rolling off the sea obstructed by three larger figures trailing right behind her, encasing you in a group hug.

Constricted from all sides, the arms around your waist tighten. Mina’s nails dig in, and she shakes you gently in an attempt to scold you, “Don’t go leaving us without a proper goodbye”.

Kirishima is at your back. He must be. The height, the rough skin, the hard spikes in his hair poking at your nape where he inhales deeply, memorising your scent. Sero flanks your left, resting his head on the shifter's shoulder as dark eyes watch you. Kaminari bears down his weight, slumping against your right, a sour metallic taste at the back of your throat as the grip on his magic loosens with emotion.

It feels wrong without Katsuki. You crane your neck and look for him. The sight of him dithering off to the side, alone and wearing a visage of muted guilt, makes your insides twist. Your hand bursts through a crevice in the huddle, coaxing him over.

He comes. Mina drags him into the middle without fanfare, and enclose around you in a last ditch effort to keep you together. “This is the worst,” Kaminari snivelled. “It’s like my parents are divorcing all over again”.

Katsuki weakens to it. Gives a quiet, choked laugh and it blows warm across your temple. You’d know his hands anywhere. Hesitant, they rest on your hips. You close your eyes and centre yourself in the present, tilting your head to rest on his collar. The motion drags your lips up to his jugular and you kiss the words against the damp skin, thicker than intended, “I’m—really, so happy I met you all”.

The briny air greets you when they finally step away. Mina rubs harshly at her eyes as your feet sink into the sand. There are stragglers by the port but nobody along the beach, so they trail after you to the shore, equal parts unwilling to leave and curious about your selkie form.

You’re pointedly aware of their presence as you shake out your fur. You hold it to your face for a moment, blocking out the wind, the light and the rain with how insulated it is, before setting it on the sand. Kaminari coughs, the group spinning on their heels when you begin to undress. Katsuki does not.

Kicking off your boots as you fiddle with your shirt strings, you consider the barbarian, impressing his appearance behind your eyes for a final time. “What will you do after this?”

Broad shoulders rise and fall as he sighs. Looks up to the sky, frowning, a blush on his cheeks. “Go further inland to one of the bigger cities to find something to pay back Deku, I guess. Circle around, head back, and then home”.

Shirt discarded, you unbutton your pants, letting them fall down your thighs, and step out of them. “How long will you be in the city?”

Shrugging, he grunts, “A week at most”.

That’s good. Long enough to wait out the final stages and prove his place in your memory. You nod, spine straightening with determination. “When you circle back I want you to stop here again. Just for a day”.

That half lidded gaze slides over to you, squinting. Pointedly kept above the shoulders. Searching. “Why?”

The tide crawls further ashore. A wave breaks around your ankles. Your toes wiggle in the sand, sinking as it is displaced, a small smile curling at your lips. You bend to grab the pelt and slide it around your shoulders like a coat. It’s comforting, familiar. Energy thrums at the surface of your skin, ready to pull. But you wait.

“In a week. Promise me?” you say without explanation.

Katsuki swallows. Eyes boring into yours. His jaw shifts. Then he nods, tersely. Reassured by this you hold the coat tighter, chin tucked as you steady your breathing. Consciously, you reach inward, drawing upon the pelt.

And you change. Falling to your knees, cold water biting at your thighs, you crumple in the sand, body shrinking as flesh and fur meld together. It’s painful after so long, unsettling to be snapped back abruptly into your hindbrain, but the discomfort eases quickly, like stretching a muscle.

You lift your upper body, nose flat and wide and twitching, scenting the air. The sand sifts under bootstrapped feet. A human approaches, beautiful and familiar, lowering into a crouch as you freeze. Forearms resting on his knees, he holds out his fingers. Faintly smoky, a mix of spice and earth.

The way in which this man appraises your form is uncomfortably solemn. Vacuous expression betrayed by the gentle light in his eyes. He smiles ruefully and readies himself to speak. Alight with a bitterness that is vaguely accusatory in the oncoming darkness he says, “Already forgot us, didn’t you?”

It steals the breath right from your lungs. Recognition strikes through you. Bakugo Katsuki. The thought is alarmingly fleeting, almost evading your grasp. Nostrils flaring, you drag your body forward to wipe the look of self-deprecation from his face. You nudge your snout into his hand, not shying away from the fierce elemental energy radiating from his palms. You unhinge your jaw, canines gently indenting the heel, as if to scold him.

He laughs, disbelief bleeding into the sound. It beckons his pod, more humans— one not so human. “Don’t fuckin’ scare them,” Katsuki calls over his shoulder. Not once do his eyes stray from you.

A thick tang of draconic magic overwhelms your senses as the largest in the group mirrors Katsuki, making himself impossibly small, aware of his magnitude and the imbalance between your species. “Wow…” the shifter, Kirishima, breathes in awe, genuine rather than tainted with greed. “So cute”.

More people come closer. Their faces filter through your memories in bits and pieces, stitching together into a patchwork timeline. “Yeah…” Mina echoes the sentiment. She gets on her knees, doesn’t care when the waves drench her skirt. “You’re beautiful like this too,” holding her hand an inch away from your skin, she asks, “Can we pet you?”

Five fingers to your scruff, one hard pull and you could be torn from your rudimentary shell. Human hands are dangerous but not these ones. You give a short tonal whine and hope she interprets it as permission. They do, taking turns tracing the marbled fur and clawed flippers, murmuring awe filled words.

The tides are high, wrapping around and coaxing you into their arms. You look toward the horizon and the itch grows. A seamless vista of clouded sky. Warm mouths litter the top of your head with kisses, their blunt human teeth behind soft lips, juxtaposed by rough, barely decipherable mutterings of something that sounds mournful.

Mina sniffles as Kirishima helps her to her feet and they wade backwards toward the port. Katsuki cups your muzzle in his palms, searing where his thumbs swoop beneath your cheekbones, brushing over the whiskers by your nose. “Stay safe out there, yeah? Don’t get eaten by a shark or whatever,” he bends, bringing your foreheads together as if to impress his thoughts onto you. “I won't wait around for a weakling”.

You can only hope he saw the promise held in your eyes as you stare at his retreating back. The swelling waves pull you into the current, submerged until only your head is above the surface. In the distance your pod breaks into cheers. They line up on the beach, jumping high as their legs will allow, waving their long arms in the air.

A descending chorus of trills build in your own throat, mellifluous and loud enough to cut through the wind and the waves. Noise becomes muffled as you’re submerged into the dense water. Wrapped up in brine the ambience fills your head. It pushes out rational thought, drawing only instinct to the forefront.

Your vision adjusts quickly to the dark the further you swim. Stretch your flippers and sweep them down like a dragon's wing, flying through the depths until you tire. Coming to an ocean shelf, there you rest. Cradled by a moving, ever evolving element. Creatures big and small pass by. Fish with vermillion scales haloing wide faces dart in and out of your dreams, shimmering under weak streams of sunlight.

The shifting tide keeps you cognisant. You linger close to the surface to monitor the sun. Days pass and you are unbearably alone. It is harrowing; this unending, sombre ache. You think of Katsuki. Repeat his name until it sounds foreign. You recall his handsome face, the way his eyes always seemed brighter in the early dawn, how his nose would wrinkle if you stared too long, like he’d tasted something bitter. You miss him.

Come the week’s end you’ve become something else, something new. Irrevocably changed by love’s hand. You recognise that you exist in two worlds: as a selkie, tethered to the seabed and embraced by buoyancy, and as a human, struggling against the currents, compelled back to land—

To Katsuki.

You glide through the waves, riding them as they swell and break onto the shore. Undulating your body, the hitching motion pulls you forward, wriggling up into a cluster of rock pools, safe from any onlookers. You wait there, chin propped on the shoulder of a jagged stone to observe the beach.

He finds you there beneath an almost oppressive dusk. The approaching footfalls command attention, announcing his arrival. You slink into the shadows for a moment, detailing the subtleties in Katsuki’s expression on his march along the sand, pinching more and more as he casts he searches the beach. The breeze ripples through the notorious red cloak, fur collar tickling his cheeks. Shirtless, wearing his scars proudly. His pants sit low on his hips, adorning various belts and jewels. Warmth curls up in your chest at the sight of him. Giddy. You remember him.

You lift your head. His focus immediately latches onto the movement. A croon rumbles in your throat as he approaches. He climbs up onto the rock, towering over you, his body obstructing the evening sun. It halos around his golden hair. The braid by his ear falls forward as his head tilts, squinting to get a good look at you.

The laughter lines by his eyes deepen, brow creasing. Almost slipping as he climbs down, Katsuki frowns at the lack of traction on the surface. You laugh and it comes out like a rough snort. The shallow pools splash loudly under his boots upon landing. He curls his upper lip at you, “Laugh at me and I’ll kill you”.

You do so again, more deliberate this time. He senses your sarcasm and flicks water at you. Your whiskers twitch, subtly tasting the air. He slumps hard on one of the flatter ridges and clicks his tongue. “This better be you and not some random fuckin’ seal I’m talking to,” he mutters, embarrassed.

Unwilling to prolong your reunion any longer, you shed your pelt. Joints slot into place, the sealskin receding, your human form unearthing as it loosens and pools around your naked lap. Katsuki watches the air bite at your skin, nipples pebbling as you shiver.

“Katsuki,” you rest your cheek on his thigh, knelt between his legs. You let him take it all in. Satisfied with his assessment of you his fiery eyes meet yours.

“Almost didn’t come. Figured you wouldn’t be here,” he intoned gruffly, chin dimpling as he juts his bottom lip. “You were supposed to forget about everything”.

You nod, mouth curling into a helpless smile. Your fingers flex and you feel the muscles jump underneath, “I know”.

Katsuki exhales a long breath, fists clenched tight in his lap with obvious restraint. “Why didn’t you?” his eyes track the movements of your hands. “It worked, I know it did. Cheeks doesn’t do shit halfway. I felt when… So what the hell are you doing back here?”

You pause when his words register, suddenly off kilter. There it is again, the displeased wrinkle on the bridge of his nose. You had never considered that he, too, would’ve experienced the connection. Admittedly a naive oversight on your part—but he never mentioned it. You figured it was just a selkie thing. Perhaps, all that time, he had been contending with his own feelings as well as yours. Wondering if he could trust himself, if they were true.

Vows dissolved, he still chose to come back for you. To bet on that slim chance. Just as you did.

The knowledge compels you to touch him more, to reassure, to lean further into the clutch of his thighs. The intrusion forces his legs wider and when you reach to cradle either side of his taut jaw he lowers to close the distance.

“I felt it, you know. Before you offered me my pelt I felt you touching it,” you begin, watching how his expression splits open as your eyes meet. “I knew it was safe with you”.

“That’s stupid,” he utters, though you can hear that he doesn’t mean it. Embarrassment slowly stains his cheeks pink. You can feel him twitch, smothering the instinctive urge to snap at whatever made him feel so intensely.

“Maybe,” you pull back a hair's breadth to lightly knock your heads together. “My point is, I was drawn to you before all that, in such a short window. I think… I didn’t forget you because those feelings grew naturally”.

The more you speak he progressively gets pinker, flustered and mad about it. It births an odd, primal urge to sink your teeth into something. To bite his cheek white, watch the blood retreat under the skin. Instead, you slide your hand lower to rest on his neck and his own cuff your wrists.

“That first day, you apologised to me because I never had a choice,” there’s a soft grunt in acknowledgment. His pulse dances under your palm. “I’m making one now of my free will. And you—can say no, if you want,” you stutter, then, suddenly realising the real possibility of him rejecting your request altogether. “But I want to be here with you”.

The last rays of sun stretch across the land, cosseted behind soft clouds as it sheaths. Katsuki considers you quietly. There’s a soft sort of intent in his eyes, wearing the revelry of dusk. You kneel in the rock pool, literally and figuratively bare, heart pounding in your throat as he readies himself to respond.

“Back at the bathhouse…” he hesitates, promptly clears his throat and struggles to look at you.

“Nothing was influencing me that night. Except maybe the wine,” you admit timidly, abashed at his sudden demurity. “I’m sorry”.

That garners a reaction from him. In true Katsuki fashion his tongue clicks behind gritted teeth and applies pressure to your wrists, pulling you up. “Come here,” he tells you. You uncurl your legs and begin to stand moving with all the grace of a newborn fawn. “Oi, don’t—!” jerking his head to the side, he averts his gaze from your naked lower half, glaring at the shoreline. The sea-scented air prickles your skin, heat gathering where he has you held. “Expose yourself to everyone in the fuckin’ country, won’t you? Come here,” and then he’s hooking behind your knees, making them bend, gathering you into his lap in bridal fashion.

“What’s the problem?” you mutter. Heat creeps up your neck, feeling defensive and distinctly embarrassed by his behaviour. “I don’t see how my nakedness is any different here than it is in the public bathhouse”.

He holds you closer, voice vibrating through his chest as he roughly insists, “It’s different”.

Your pout softens into a small pleased smile, letting him manhandle you until he’s satisfied with his grip. He bends, incidentally baring his throat stretching for the pelt discarded by the rocks. Tucking your nose to the underside of his jaw you revel in how his arm tightens around your lower back.

Katsuki draws the pelt into your lap, covering your modesty. You laugh at how sweet and boyish it seems. “Laughin’ at me again, huh?” two fingers pinch at your cheek, pulling until you whine. “Got a death wish?”

Kneading at the sealskin coat your affections roar into existence once more with an intensity. “You wouldn’t hurt me,” you grin, and he abandons the pinch to stretch his big hand across your face. Thumb on your left cheek, fingers on your right, he squeezes together until your mouth is misshapen and pursed.

“Sure about that?” he warns, tone steeped in fondness. It is exhilarating to have him touch you again, more freely than he ever had before; it is as close to ‘I believe you’ as you think you’ll get.

You smile with your eyes, locked with his. Close enough to count every fine eyelash. Your words come garbled as you say, “You still haven’t given me an answer”.

Katsuki exhales shallowly through his nose. His throat contracts as he swallows. The pressure releases. His hand cups your face, flexing with uncertainty. You shudder when he dips to press your lips together. You’re kissed without hurry, besotted by his firm but cautious movements. He relaxes as you lean into the rhythm, humming proudly. The soft, wet sounds of your mouths meeting again and again echo over the crawling waves.

Katsuki pulls away first, eyes still closed but smiling to himself. He licks his lips and rasps, “I guess you can come along with us,” as though that was all the answer he needed to give.

Alight with excitement you squirm in his lap, earning a quick slap to your hip. Katsuki ignored your grumbling and set to covering your body entirely. “Hold onto the corners,” he says, draping the hide over your shoulders, comforting warmth enveloping you as you obediently take the corners. “Put your arms around my neck. Do not drop it”.

You do, curtaining both of your bodies with the pelt in the process, fingers interlocking at Katsuki’s nape. Your faces remain a whisper away. It feeds a skin hunger that plagued you for days. Satisfied, he then unties his cloak to slide it over-top, layering the two to keep you covered.

Your stomach swoops as Katsuki pushes to his feet, carrying you in his arms with no sign of exertion and much better balance than before. His bicep bulges, fingers flexing under your thighs. “Where are we going?”

Sand and broken shells crunch under his boots, gait leaden like wading through mud. Mariners whistle suggestively in your direction as he climbs the steps to the dock, making his teeth grind. “Taking you back to our room,” he grunts.

You flush with heat at the implication. “You still have the key…?”

Without disrupting his pace, Katsuki’s nose nudges along your temple to press a kiss there. “Said my shitty wife left something behind,” you feel his mouth pull into a smirk, “so they gave me it to go take a look”.

A pleasant sensation erupts in your stomach. Fluttering like butterflies. “And the others?”

Darkness covers you when he ducks into a narrow alley. Katsuki meanders along the winding path with unfettered confidence. “I sent them on ahead. Said I’d catch up on foot,” he explains, eyes darting over the surroundings, striding back out into a familiar road leading to the tavern. “Wanted to be alone”.

You’re carried up the stairwell despite the stern assertion that you would be just fine on your feet. In that same vein, Katsuki is clearly just fine taking all of your weight— proud of it, you think. Unwilling to put you down.

He shoulders into the room and kicks the door shut. It is as you remember. Dim and homely, accented by a lamp that casts a soft yellow glow over the bed. Heavy footsteps take you forward, and you are swiftly deposited on the mattress. You bounce a fraction, losing purchase on the pelt and cloak. Both layers peel away, rumpled under your back, leaving you splayed out and bare.

Katsuki stands next to the bed, watching the rise and fall of your chest. His features are tender in the light, smoothing his hard edges. It flickers in his irises. Gaze hungry, restless.

Your body can’t help but react to Katsuki’s silent observation. The ardent stroke of his eyes across every part of you like it were his hands themselves. Heat races through you and coils between your legs. Feeling exposed, you try to close your thighs.

There’s a hand on your knee, stopping the movement, firm but gentle as he pries them back open. Katsuki moves closer and kicks off his boots. The mattress dips under his weight. One knee on the bed, your legs part further to make space for the intrusion, wrapping around his waist without second thought.

“This okay?” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. You exhale shakily, hands roving along the thick of his arms to clutch at his shoulders. The buckles on his pants bite into the back of your thighs. You can feel his arousal swelling through the fabric.

Rocking your hips, your feet cross at his lower back. “Yeah. I want…” his eyes flutter, almost rolling up into his skull, pupils dilated. You chase the phantom feeling of his lips with your tongue and he tracks the movement. “Kiss me again”.

“Thank fuck,” Katsuki groaned, the sound dwindling into a low chuckle. His forearms settle either side of your head, pressing all his weight down, pinning you to the bed. Taking up your vision until only he is in your orbit. The braid by his ear hangs loosely, the bead cold where it brushes your jaw. You tremble, fingers threading into his hair to scratch gently at his scalp.

Your mouths slot together and he kisses you full, nibbling your lips until they part. Pushing deeper, tongues sliding over teeth, stealing the breath from your lungs. He handles you with indecision. Careful kisses followed by rough ones; grabbing at the soft parts of your body a little too hard, smoothing the flesh with his thumb in apology.

It’s overwhelming how much he wants you. And you try to return the fervour, arms sliding around his back to keep him close, undulating your hips to feel the tremors wrack through him.

The talons strung around his neck graze over your chest as he descends. Kisses left on the corner of your mouth, cheek, jugular. He takes your pulse between his jaws and you whine, clenching at his waist. Katsuki moves away, laving his tongue along your throat.

“Wanna touch you,” he says. Goosebumps break out across your skin as he blows cool air over the wet stripe left behind. “S’all I could think about. You’re fucking distracting”.

“Yes. Please,” your eyelids flutter, leaning back to hear your throat. “Please”.

“Needy,” he mumbles, a satisfied lilt to his tone. His hand slides down to your ass, grabbing one cheek and filling his palm with it as he spreads you open. “Bein’ too quiet. I like it when you say my name,” he rasps. “Gonna let me hear it?”

Fingertips brush against your sex. Heat flushes under your skin, anticipation and understanding unfurled within you. “Katsuki,” you sigh into his mouth.

Katsuki flashes a predatory grin. Pleased, and pink all the way to his ears. Breath puffing over your lips he says, “Again”.

“Katsuk—ah,” his thumb circles over your swollen clit, sparks zipping up your spine. Your breath hitches. You chase the touch, his four fingers splayed low on your navel; the other cups the back of your knee to keep you spread as he descends from throat to chest, forging a path of wet kisses, stopping intermittently to softly suck at the flesh and coax blood to the surface.

You’re wet. Wet enough, warm enough, that the still air feels cold on your skin. His lips wrap around your nipple and you arch up into the sensation as he slowly sinks a finger inside of you. You take him to the knuckle, and he waits, gradually pulling out until you’re clenching around a fingertip.

Again and again he fucks you on his fingers, adding another, curling them up mid stroke to brush the most sensitive part of you, spreading them to work you open. You mewl, steeped in pleasure as it diffuses through your belly, pooling between your thighs.

Katsuki watches you, peering up through heavy eyes, mouth full of your breast. He flicks his tongue over the pert nipple, coming up and switching to the other, lavishing you in attention. You exhale, tremors wracking your body. Cradle the back of his head, grip tightening reflexively when he hits that sweet spot, and the groan rumbling in his throat prickles under your skin.

Satisfied, he continues lower. Throws your legs over his broad shoulders, laid flat along the bed. The mattress jerks when he ruts into the sheets, still confined in his pants. You hold his gaze as his cheeks hollow. Saliva pools into his mouth and he tucks his chin, spitting it on your clit, massaging it over with his thumb.

You shudder, hips canting. “Shit, look at you,” he pants, voice so thick and supple you want to wrap yourself in it. “Keep your eyes on me, yeah?” he litters kisses across your inner thigh, pressing praise into the sensitive skin there. Your heels dig into the thick muscle at his back when he dips to kiss your clit, licking in and around his fingers. “I wanna see your face when you cum”.

You’re pulsing around him, frantically chasing the feeling. It’s— overwhelming, like you can’t breathe through it, and every string in your body has been pulled taut, wavering on the precipice. You reach to grasp his forearm. The muscles flex under your palms, pave unrelenting, and tears begin to sting behind your eyes.

“Fuck, Katsuki,” you gasp, breathlessness abated by the sudden rush of air to your lungs. “Feels so good, I can’t… Katsuki I can’t—”

A broken sound reverberates throughout the room the moment he stops, pulling back and leaving you empty. You can barely believe that it came from you, squeezing your eyes shut in shame. But then he’s right there, crowding into your space, caging your body with his own. “Oi,” he softly takes your jaw, “What did I say? Look at me”.

You squint up at him. You take in his swollen lips, lidded stare, the sheen of sweat on his brow, hair matted to his forehead, arousal and spit coating his chin. For the first time you think you might understand, just a fraction, the greed of those who kept you. Because now you desire to be the one to take. To keep. To stow away his shamelessness and be the only one to see it.

“You hurt?”

“No,” you whisper, blinking away the haze. Katsuki tucks his knees up higher against your middle, tops of his thighs shelving your splayed legs. You feel yourself clenching around nothing, empty. “I’m sorry”.

“Don’t fuckin’ apologise,” he tucks his nose against your temple, indifferent to the sheen of sweat. You inhale his musky scent and slide your arms around his shoulders. “Got too in your head, huh?”

His cock twitches in his pants, still hard and pressed to your thigh. Gathering your bearings you subtly rock your hips into his lap. You shiver at the sharp hiss by your ear, the drag of his soft lips over the shell. He nips at it in warning.

“You want to keep going?”

You nod, playing with the thin hair at his nape. He rumbles and it feels like a purr, pushing up only to pull at the belt buckles around his waist. Impatient, you reach to help, pulling the leather out from the loops, fingers trembling.

Katsuki frees his hands and lets you work at the buttons. He wears a small, crooked smile on his face as he watches, chest rising and falling with every anticipatory breath. You pull them down his hips, a trail of light hair leading from his bellybutton to his cock. He shifts, hooking into the waistband and pushing them down his legs, kicking them off the bed.

In your impatience your fingers wrap around his length, playing with the soft skin. You circle the blushing tip, smearing pre with your thumb. He throbs, abdomen clenching with a guttural moan that shoots straight to your own.

“So impatient,” he cups your jaw and forcing you to meet his eyes. “Get me nice and wet?”

“Yeah,” you rasp, detailing how his pupils expand as you slide his cock through your folds. The corner of his mouth twitches. He grins as he dips to kiss you. It is more chaste than the last, a kiss for the sake of kissing.

Then the grip on your jaw tightens. Firm and unyielding. Katsuki’s big hand engulfs yours, squeezing his dick, teasing the tip at your entrance. “Gonna make you cum on my cock. But you’ve got to listen to me and relax. Okay?”

You desperately want to dig your heels into his lower back, to drag him inside and fill up that awful emptiness, to take him to the hilt and keep him there. Instead you acquiesce, forcing yourself pliant; rewarded with a soft kiss, he presses his forehead to yours.

“Take a deep breath for me,” he tells you. You inhale, ribs expanding as your lungs bloat. Slowly, Katsuki pushes his tip past your entrance, and begins to sink his cock into you. His expression shutters, eyes rolling shut as his face scrunches up. Strained, he says, “Breathe out, baby. Slow”.

You exhale, ending on a long moan as skin meets skin. He settles in the cradle of your hips. “Good,” his voice is gravelly, strained. His nails bite at your waist, “And in”.

Repeating the motions your muscles clench around him as he pulls out, as though your body couldn’t be without him. He huffs through his nose and you feel it hot on your cheek. It continues like that. He fucks you slow and deliberate, pinned to the bed like a butterfly, guiding your breathing. You cannot look away from him. He’s devastating. He’s yours. Wild spikes are tousled around a flushed face, mouth kiss-bitten and slack with awe. “Katsuki,” you whisper, each more frantic than the last.

The earlier intensity does not return, rather, it accumulates inside of you with every inhale, suffusing through you like a warm, pleasant fog. The pressure has you bursting at the seams, undone by the indelible drag of his cock, how his pelvis pressed so perfectly against your clit, little incantations of your name murmured into your hair.

“Ah, fuck. Katsuki, I’m—” your thighs seize either side of his waist, toes curling as the words catch in your throat. “M’gonna…”

“I’ve got you,” he fucks you a little deeper, gritting his teeth. The muscles in his neck flex with exertion. “In and out, baby. I’ve got you”.

Those practised breaths quickly stagger into uneven whines as you’re tipped over the edge. Ley lines erupt behind your eyelids. You arch back into the sheets—pelt and cloak rumpled beneath—as the pleasure quakes through you.

Katsuki fucks you into your orgasm and then beyond it. You cradle him to your chest when his rhythm stutters, releasing a long groan as he spills into you.

Together you collapse back on the mattress, rolling onto your sides. He slides his arm beneath your head and hooks your knee over his hip, keeping himself nestled inside you for a while longer. You lie there until the fog recedes, leaving a sated contentment in its wake.

In that instance you can no longer tell where the line of your own body ends and where Katsuki’s begins. You feel warm, comfortable against him. All the fears and hypotheticals that sought to fill the hole in your chest have faded. You realise in those intimate few minutes that home is what you choose it to be. A place, a concept, a person. Home is the ocean, said to cover more than half of the earth, fissuring inland and stretching further than the eye can see; it is a current that will always run in your veins. But humans, too, are made of the sea. Water, minerals and tissue. Home is in the blood that rushes to Katsuki’s cheeks when you kiss him.

This is where you belong.

Eventually Katsuki decides he needs to get up. Your objections go ignored, silenced when he returns dressed with a damp cloth to wipe you down. Once he's done he pulls up the bed covers and manhandles you under them, declaring that he needs to go downstairs and pay ‘that woman’ for the room.

“Won’t be long. Don’t even think about getting up. I’ll need to buy you some clothes tomorrow…”

Grin hidden under the blankets, you call out to him before he goes. He stops in the doorway, softened by the lamp light. Feigning innocence, you jokingly ask, “Before you go, could you pass me my pelt?”

Your heart races when he reflexively goes to do so, only for him to halt halfway. His eyes narrow, lips thinning into a smirk:

“Real fuckin’ funny”.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

3K notes · View notes

kwanisms · 6 months

Text

» stray kids masterlist | collab masterlist «

➮ hyunjin x f!reader

wc: 20.1k

summary: Y/N never expected to run into her ex again, especially not at a holiday party of all places. Nor did she expect for him to offer to drive her home when her ride bails on her. She definitely did not expect Hyunjin’s car to get stuck in the snow and for them to have to spend the night at an elderly couple’s house where they, unsurprisingly, have to share a room and even more unsurprisingly, there’s only one bed.

genres/themes/au: angst, smut; holiday themes, rekindled relationship, exes to lovers, one bed; non idol au

warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, mention of previous alcohol abuse, flashbacks of toxic relationship, mentions of arguing and fighting (nothing physical except pushing and MC hitting Hyunjin's chest), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

special tags: @millennial-fangirl @twisted-tales-of-all @staytinyville @skyechild

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @surveilenceysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @plutoneu @prestineaugstine @sunwoosbaby @lilramennoodle @deadgirlwalking3 @tigerhoshi25 @chocolate-scoups @spilled-coffee-cup @aaniag @ayoo-bangtan @walkingtravesty97 @yevene @certifiedmoa @nottkwiwin

stray kids taglist: @cixrosie @hoeforcheol @smhlino @cutiespaghetti @peterparkoure @chubbyanarkiss @anyamaris @nattisbored @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @vampiirose @plants-w0rld @0325tiny @justiny @lacie220900 @dementedaly to be contin.

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a/n: my first piece was nothing but tooth rotting sweet fluff but I knew from the get go when I picked Hyune for this collab that I wanted to write angst for him. That being said, NO. I WILL NOT BE WRITING A SEQUEL TO THIS TO GIVE THEM A PROPER HAPPY ENDING. The ending is up to reader interpretation. So please do not ask for a part 2 because there will not be one. Thank you so much for reading and joining us on this collab! The Tales from Camp Holiday Special begins now and once that’s over, I will be focusing on Under Your Skin. If you are a SVT fan, you can read the OG Tales from Camp here and the Holiday Special here. And for those of you who are SKZ fans, consider checking out Under Your Skin here. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up), dirty talk, slight voice kink, use of pet names (baby, angel, sweetheart, etc.), oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), handjob (m receiving), lowkey lovemaking, biting (f receiving), slight possessive sex, soft dom!Hyunjin, sub!Reader, it’s hot and heavy and Hyunjin is clearly very much in love still. If I missed any, pls let me know!

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“Promise me you won’t ditch me the moment the doors open,” you whined, looking at your friend who gave you a blank look. “You know I can’t promise you that!” Kaia said as she raised her fist to knock on the door. It opened a moment later, warmth reaching out to pull you both into the house. You clung to your friend as you removed your coats and they were hung up and put in a room off the foyer.

The house was a typical suburban American home. The walls were an off white color, decorations like something out of a Christmas catalog. The partygoers were dressed in varying shades of red, green, white, gold, and the like.

The white vaulted ceilings reflected light to make the rooms appear even larger and brighter than they already were. A massive fifteen foot pine tree dominated the far corner of the living room, professionally decorated with gold and red baubles, strings of white lights sweeping across the branches and small faux icicles hung from the tips of the branches. Under the tree lay a red tree skirt with gold embroidery, perfectly wrapped gifts lying atop the red fabric.

You followed Kaia further, not wanting to lose sight of her as you made your way to the kitchen.

The open concept floor plan into the kitchen made the already large space seem just even larger. The white quartz counters contrasted with the dark gray shaker cabinets with golden hardware. A massive kitchen island separated the spaces, decorated with an assortment of snacks.

Along the wall leading into a breakfast nook was a table with even more food and at the back of the breakfast nook room was an actual bar set up where a young woman with blonde hair curled and neatly tied back was making drinks for patrons.

In the kitchen Kaia dragged you over to the bar and ordered drinks. Once your drink was in your hand, Kaia pulled you aside and scanned the room. She waved at a few people, sipping on her drink as you eyed the food, wanting to eat something so you weren’t drinking on an empty stomach.

Before you could say anything, Kaia was downing the rest of her drink, ordering another before she looked at you. “You’re on your own,” she simply said before leaving your side and making her way across the room where she introduced herself to someone you didn’t recognize.

‘Bitch,’ you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. You made your way over to the table to grab a small plate, adding an assortment of hors d'oeuvres to it before sneaking off to the side and out of the way. You nibbled at your food, sipping your drink intermittently as you watched the party unfold around you.

It hadn’t even been your idea to come here. Kaia had begged you to come with her for a week straight until you caved and agreed but on the condition she didn’t ditch you once here.

She clearly didn’t hold up her end of the bargain.

As you ate, a couple people you did recognize came up and chatted with you politely and you felt a little better, knowing more than just your awful so-called friend. You saw a couple of people from your previous workplace as well as some old college acquaintances.

About an hour into your arrival and three White Russians later, you were exiting the bathroom when you bumped into something hard and stumbled slightly. Kaia had insisted you wore these heels and you were starting to regret letting her talk you into it. You were regretting a lot of things regarding Kaia truthfully but it wasn’t the night to get into it.

Looking up as you smoothed your dress out, you started to apologize until you saw the face of the person you’d just run into.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

The look on your ex’s face was one of pure shock. He clearly wasn’t expecting to see you either.

You turned away from him, intent on finding Kaia and leaving. This was a mistake. You never should have come here tonight. “Y/N, wait.” you heard him say, feeling his hand gently grab your arm. You pulled sharply from his grip and glared at him.

Hyunjin fell silent, holding his hand up in surrender before you stormed away to find your friend.

It didn’t take long to find her, perched on the lap of the guy she’d ditched you for as he sat on one of the pristine white couches in the living room. You weaved through the crowd, stopping by her to glare down at her. “Y/N!” she said excitedly. “I was just coming to find you! We’re about to play a game!”

You grabbed Kaia by the wrist, dragging her up and off the guy’s lap, leading her away from the group.

“Y/N, what the hell?” Kaia hissed as you pulled her to a spot near the wall. “I’m going to ask you something and I want the truth,” you started as Kaia inspected her wrist before looking up at you. “What?” she grumbled. “Did you know Hyunjin was going to be here?” you demanded.

Kaia stared blankly at you for a couple moments before speaking. “Theoretically? I knew there was a chance.” Your mild annoyance turned into blind rage. She knew he might be here and yet she still insisted you come anyway? What was her problem?

“I want to leave,” you snapped. “Now.”

Kaia scoffed, rolling her eyes and gested at the door. “Go ahead. Leave,” she replied. Your lips parted in shock. “You’re my ride, Kaia,” you reminded her. “Then I guess if you want me to drive you home, you’re gonna have to stay until I’m ready to leave.”

You glared at her. Ditching you was one thing but knowingly stranding you here was another.

“And what about him?” you hissed, throwing a dirty glance towards Hyunjin who was now nursing a drink. As if sensing you were talking about him, he looked over, meeting your gaze but only for a moment before you looked away. Kaia shrugged. “That’s your problem, babe,” she replied.

Before you could answer, she walked away, taking her previous perch and leaving you to seethe alone.

“Un-fucking-believable!” you hissed as you stormed off, making a path to the bar. If you were going to be forced to be here, might as well make the best of it and get as many free drinks as you could stomach.

You were grumbling to yourself as you waited in line, the guy in front of you kept turning to look at you though it wasn’t annoyance on his face. More like concern. “Are you okay?” he finally asked, having turned back to you. His accent caught you off guard but you nodded all the same. “Rough night?” he asked and you scoffed. “You have no idea.”

He offered a warm smile, holding his hand out for you to shake. “Felix,” he introduced himself. “Y/N,” you replied, shaking his hand. “Want to tell me about it over drinks?” he asked, gesturing to the bar. You couldn’t help but chuckle and nod. Once the two of you got your drinks, you stood off to the side, talking about your lives. What you did for work, how you ended up at this party.

Felix was exceedingly easy to talk to and he kept a smile on your face. He was also a pretty good dancer. You almost couldn’t find a fault with him until he tried to beat you at darts in the rec room downstairs. It’s not like you were a champion when it came to darts but he just really sucked at it.

“So tell me about Straya,” you said in a half convincing Australian accent as the two of you sat on one of the couches in the rec room, taking the place of a couple who got up to get more drinks upstairs. Felix let his arm rest on the back of the couch behind you.

“It’s hot,” Felix answered. “Really hot,” he added. “And there are spiders everywhere.” You shuddered. You hated spiders. “And they’re the really big ones,” he continued. “They’re known to catch lizards and even mice if they’re hungry and fast enough. And boy are they fucking fast,” he added with a laugh.

“Okay, enough with the spiders,” you said with a shiver. “Don’t like them?” Felix asked and you shook your head. “Absolutely not!” Felix chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “What about the roos?” you asked suddenly, making him give you a peculiar look. “The roos?” he asked.

“Yeah. The kangaroos,” you clarified. Felix let out a chuckle. “Oh, those roos!” he replied.

“Big and mean,” he answered. “The males are super territorial and they’re buff. They’re majorly jacked. They look like bodybuilders.” You covered your mouth as you let out a laugh. “What?” you asked incredulously as Felix nodded.

“They’re mean,” he replied. “They’re not cute and cuddly. They can kill. Those claws on their hands aren’t just for show. And they can kick like a kickboxer.” Your eyes widened. “Wait, really?” you asked. Felix nodded. “You don’t fuck with kangaroos. Same with koalas. They look cute and furry but they also have gnarly claws and they’ll take a swipe at you if given the chance.”

Your perception of Felix’s home continent was changing by the minute as he talked. As your cups emptied, you made your way back upstairs to get more drinks, opting to find a seat in the four seasons room off the living room where it was a little quieter.

“So,” Felix said, taking a sip of his drink and looking up at you.

“What had you so upset earlier?”

Your smile dropped a little as you let out a deep, heavy sigh.

“My friend I came with is being a real bitch right now,” you admitted. “She begged me to come to this party when I didn’t really want to in the first place. She promised if I came with her, she wouldn’t leave my side,” you continued.

“But she ditched you anyway?” Felix asked, prompting you to nod in response. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he raised his cup to his lips. “That’s a pretty shitty thing to do,” he agreed. You nodded slowly. “And that’s not all,” you added. Felix glanced up as you settled back against the cushions.

“My ex is here tonight.”

“And that’s bad, I take it?” Felix asked. You nodded.

“We broke up a couple years ago,” you started. “The relationship was… not good. We fought a lot. Constant arguing. We kept accusing the other of cheating. We were constantly at each other’s throats.” Felix nodded slowly. “Who ended it?” he asked before backtracking.

“Sorry,” he stuttered. “That’s really none of my business.” You shook your head, dismissing his apology with your hand. “It’s okay,” you replied. “I broke up with him. I knew if I didn’t do it, it would never happen so I bit the bullet and pulled the trigger.”

Felix let out a sigh. “Man,” he said softly. “That’s rough.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “And when I asked my friend that I came with to take me home because I wanted to leave, she basically said to find my own way home.”

“Did she know he was going to be here?” Felix asked, raising his cup to his lips. “She said she knew there was a possibility,” you replied.

Felix’s jaw dropped. “What the fu- look, I’m sorry,” he started. “But you need to find better mates,” he said, shaking his head, baffled by the audacity. “Do you still want to leave?” he asked softly. You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied. “Parties just really aren’t my scene., and seeing my ex really just ruined my entire night.” Felix nodded. “No, I get it,” he replied. “I’m here cause this is actually my cousin’s place and I’m crashing here for the holidays,” he explained.

“But I think I actually might know someone who’s planning to leave soon and he lives in the same direction you’re going so maybe he can give you a ride?” Felix offered. You gave him a smile. “Really?” you asked excitedly. “That would be so amazing!”

Felix smiled at your reaction and got to his feet, holding out his free hand. “Let’s go ask him,” he said, smiling wider as you grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull you up.

“Yes,” you answered. “Let’s ask!”

‘Twice in one night is enough,’ you told yourself as you stared back at Hyunjin while Felix spoke to your ex. Granted, he didn’t know the guy he was trying to ask to give you a ride was your ex-boyfriend. Felix smiled as he turned to you. “It was great meeting you,” he said, holding his hand out for you to shake again. “Hyunjin’s a great guy. He’ll make sure you get home safe!” he added before bidding the two of you goodnight and moving into the next room to rejoin the party.

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. Hyunjin downed the rest of his soda, tossing the can and turning to you. “Did you bring a coat?” he asked nonchalantly. “I’m not leaving with you.” He ignored your words, instead getting up and fishing his phone out of his pocket.

You watched as he typed across the screen quickly and pocket the device again. “Go get your coat,” Hyunjin said softly. You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m not leaving with--”

He looked at you, looking slightly annoyed. “Look, either I take you home or you’re stuck at this party. It’s your choice,” he explained. “But I am leaving.” You stared at one another, both unmoving, unblinking until you sighed and rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you snapped. “But I need to get my stuff out of Kaia’s car.”

Hyunjin nodded and gestured forward. “After you.”

You managed to get Kaia’s attention, asking for her keys so you could get your bag out of her car. She gave it up without question as you headed for the front door and got your coat from the coat room. Hyunjin was waiting on the porch for you when you exited the house and walked with you to Kaia’s car, waiting patiently while you got your bag from the back.

He took the bag from you while you ran back in to return Kaia’s keys to her and headed back out. He’d already turned on his car and backed up as close to the door as he could get without going onto the grass. He waited at the base of the steps for you, making sure you didn’t fall and helped you traverse the snow in your boots, even going so far as to open your door for you.

Once inside he returned to his side and got in, clicking his seatbelt in place as he fiddled with the temperature controls. You shivered, holding your hands in front of the heater. Hyunjin put the car in drive and slowly pulled away from the house, following the long driveway back out to the street.

It was snowing when you first arrived at the party with Kaia but more snow had accumulated, covering the roads and was starting to come down heavier as Hyunjin pulled onto the road and started driving in the direction of the city.

“Picked a hell of a day to have the party, didn’t they?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood. You hummed in response, looking out the window at the scenery as Hyunjin crept along. Silence fell over you both again. “Did you want to listen to music?” Hyunjin asked softly. “Oh my god, Hyunjin, I don’t care!” you snapped.

Silence fell once more.

“Sorry,” you finally said softly. “I’m just really frustrated.”

Hyunjin nodded silently, opting not to turn the radio on.

He continued to drive carefully, remembering the last time he’d driven in snow like this. He’d managed to wreck his first car during a snowstorm and his mother had scolded him to the moon and back about how he needed to be careful. Since then, he’d been overly cautious when it came to driving in the snow.

The car reached a curve in the road and Hyunjin followed it, hands gripping the steering wheel as the back end of his car started to fishtail. “Whoa,” he mumbled. “Hyunjin!” you said, panic in your voice as the car quickly veered out of his control and slid over the edge of the road and down into a ditch.

The impact wasn’t as bad as Hyunjin expected but he was still jerked forward as the car came to an abrupt halt, nose pointing down toward the ditch. The car slowly slid sideways down the steep embankment until it finally stopped moving.

Immediately, Hyunjin put the car in park and looked around seeing nothing but white.

He turned to look at you. “Holy shit, Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You nodded, looking around and checking yourself over. “Y-yeah,” you stammered. “I’m alright. What about you?” Hyunjin exhaled in relief. “I’m fine,” he answered.

“What about the car?” Hyunjin glanced out his window. “Well, I don’t think we hit anything,” he explained as he looked around, checking his mirrors.

“I’m gonna get out and make sure,” he added.

Before you could stop him, he opened his door and got out, shutting the door behind him and walked around the car, trudging through the snow as he inspected the outside. He returned moments later, getting back into the car.

“There are no marks outside but it looks pretty stuck,” he said as he shivered, shaking the cold off.

You pulled your phone out and groaned at the no service symbol at the top of the screen. ‘Fuck.’ Hyunjin pulled his phone out and saw he also had no signal. “Shit!” he cursed. “What do we do?” you asked softly, looking up at him. Hyunjin looked around before looking in his rearview mirror.

“Hey, we passed a house, right?” he asked, turning to look out the back windshield. “Uh, I think so?” you replied. “Maybe like a mile back?” Hyunjin nodded, looking at your face. “Okay,” he said softly and turned in his seat.

You watched as he reached into the back seat, digging around for something. He produced a hat and scarf, wrapping the scarf around his neck and pulling the beanie on. He then reached behind your seat and pulled out a blanket. “I’m going to walk to the house to see if anyone is home,” he said as he threw the blanket over your lap.

“You stay here and keep warm,” he added. “I’ll be back with help or good news,” he added as he opened his door and got out, shutting the door behind him. You watched as he climbed up the embankment and started to walk down the street in the direction of the house you’d both seen.

You sighed, pulling the blanket closer around you, a shiver running up your spine as you looked outside the car. Snow was still coming down, joining the blanket already on the ground. You curled further into yourself, trying to preserve whatever warmth you could manage.

You heard the doors lock and readjusted the blanket to cover your legs and looked around his car. It was the same car you remembered him having just before the break up. The one he’d been so excited and proud of because it was the first car he bought when he started his job.

Another shiver went up your spine and you hoped Hyunjin would find help, even shocked that he offered to go find it. In the past, he never would have done so, a memory surfacing of your attempt to go to the beach on a road trip. You managed to get lost on back roads as Hyunjin refused to ask for directions.

[flashback - four years ago]

“Babe, why don’t we just stop and ask for directions?” you asked, looking up from the map. You glanced out the windshield at the rolling farmland surrounding you which was certainly not the beach which you should have been at by that point.

“No,” Hyunjin said flatly, gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles had turned white. He was leaning forward, chest almost pressing against the steering wheel as he tried to get a glance at any sign possible.

You glanced back down at the map, squinting as you tried to figure out where you’d gone wrong. Where had you made the wrong turn? Where were you headed now? You looked back up, turning to look at Hyunjin. “I really think we need to stop and ask for directions,” you started.

“Goddamn it, Y/N, will you just shut the hell up and let me drive?!”

You flinched at the volume of his voice and fell silent. You folded up the map and placed it on the dashboard, leaning back in your seat and looking out the window to keep your boyfriend from seeing the tears that threatened to spill.

Minutes passed in silence as Hyunjin continued to drive, turning down random roads, only to hit a dead end and have to turn around, growing increasingly more and more frustrated. You said nothing, instead indulging in your own sadness as you let the tears flow silently.

“Can you look at the map and see where we are?” Hyunjin asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You didn’t move. You heard his request but you chose to ignore it, knowing nothing you did would figure out where the hell you were. “Y/N?” Hyunjin asked, slowing to look over at you. He saw the way your arms were crossed over your chest and how you refused to look at him.

“Did you hear me?” he asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He really didn’t like it when you ignored him.

“Yes,” you replied softly. “But what difference would it make?” you asked, still not turning to look at him.

“We haven’t seen any signs in hours so I can’t even pinpoint those on the map. We’re lost, Hyunjin.”

You heard him inhale sharply. “So it’s my fault, right?” he snapped and you finally turned to look at him, giving him a glance at your tear stained cheeks. “Yes, Hyunjin,” you retorted. “It is your fault. I told you we should have stopped and asked for directions when we first got off the main road but you refused to listen to me. You just kept going, insisting we didn’t need help. You aren’t a road map. You don’t have a GPS built into your head!”

Hyunjin let out a groan, rolling his eyes. “Well, will you check your phone, then?” he asked.

You grabbed it from the console and unlocked the screen, holding it up for him to see. “No service. How the fuck am I supposed to look it up when I have no service?” Hyunjin turned to glare at you. “Have you never heard of offline maps?” he snapped. “Yeah, you have to download them before you lose signal!”

“Well excuse me for not knowing that! I’m not some know-it-all bitch like you!”

Silence fell over the both of you as your stomach sank. “Stop the car,” you muttered.

Hyunjin looked back at you. “What?” he asked softly. “Stop the car,” you said a little louder. Hyunjin glanced out the windows before looking back over at you.

“You can’t be serious--”

“Stop the fucking car, Hyunjin!”

[end flashback - the present]

Hyunjin kept his head down, the flurries of snow hitting his hat instead of his face. He reached up to readjust the scarf around his neck to cover the lower half of his face. The cold air was sharp, biting and stinging his skin as he walked, the wind blowing through him despite his heavy coat.

“Fucking hell,” he cursed. “It’s freezing!”

As he walked, he was reminded of the time the two of you had taken a road trip to the beach and gotten lost. After an argument outside the car, he finally managed to get you back into the car and start heading back the way you’d come only to run out of gas just before you got onto the main road. He snorted as he remembered his ignorance and refusal to listen to reason.

He was young, dumb, and thought he knew everything.

He thought he was above asking for directions but he knew better now. He knew it was okay to ask for help. In that, he knew he had grown as a person at least.

[flashback - four years ago]

“Now what,” you sighed exasperatedly as the car started to sputter, slowing as Hyunjin looked down at the dashboard. His eyes scanned for an engine light or something similar but felt his heart sink as he noticed the gas gauge was sitting on the little white E.

“Shit,” he hissed. You looked up at him. “What?” you asked as the car rolled to a stop. Hyunjin cut the engine and leaned back in his seat, letting out an annoyed huff. “We’re out of gas.”

You stared at him, stunned. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He shook his head. “I wish I were.”

You hesitated before finally moving. Hyunjin watched as you grabbed your purse and phone, hastily unbuckling your seatbelt before yanking open the car door and getting out. Hyunjin opened his door and stood up, one foot still in the car as you started walking.

“Y/N, where are you going?” he called.

“I’m going to find a gas station!”

Hyunjin sighed, shutting his door and starting after you. “Not by yourself, you’re not!” he called as he jogged to catch up to you. “You can’t just walk out here in the middle of nowhere by yourself, Y/N.” You ignored him and kept walking.

He knew you were still reeling from the earlier fight.

Hyunjin caught up to you rather easily, grabbing your arm only for you to pull from his grip. “Don’t touch me!” you shouted. Hyunjin grabbed your arm again, pulling you back and turning you to face him. “Y/N,” he started as you struggled to pull out of his grip. “Don’t touch me!”

“Y/N, stop,” Hyunjin said calmly, trying to hold you in place. “Stop, stop it,” he continued.

“Y/N, stop it!” he finally shouted as he gently shook you. You stared up at him in shock before you hit his chest with your fist. “Don’t fucking yell at me!” you shouted back, hitting his chest again, albeit not very hard. Hyunjin took your face in his hands.

“Get your hands off me,” you growled, fighting back tears. “I’m sorry,” he said firmly. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he continued as you looked up at him. “And I’m sorry for not listening to you.” The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled and a sob escaped you.

Hyunjin pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered into your hair. “I shouldn’t have said that and I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” You cried softly into his chest. “I’m just frustrated,” he continued. “I know that’s no excuse. But I am sorry.”

“I got us into this mess and I’m sorry.”

He continued to hold you tightly, swaying the both of you back and forth until your sobs subsided. Hyunjin pulled back, taking your face in his hands, thumbs wiping your tears away. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go find a gas station,” he said softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

[end flashback - the present]

Hyunjin lifted his head, relief flooding his body as he caught sight of the driveway he’d driven past earlier. He continued down the drive, leaving deep footprints as he trudged through the deep snowfall.

As he continued, trees lining the driveway, lights from the house came into view. He continued to amble through the snow, making his way to the front porch. He hoped it wasn’t too late as he carefully climbed the steps. Hyunjin raised his fist and knocked loudly, quickly tucking his hands into his pockets.

It took a couple moments but through the frosted glass, Hyunjin could see shadows moving towards the door, the sound of the lock clicking before the door cracked open. “Yes?” a voice asked. Hyunjin pulled his scarf down, offering an awkward smile. “Hi,” he said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry to disturb you so late but my car’s slid off the road and into a ditch just down the road from your driveway,” he explained.

“My friend and I don’t have service on our phones and I was wondering if I could perhaps use a phone or if you might know someone who could help us get the car unstuck?”

The door opened a bit more to reveal an older gentleman. He had gray hair, wore round spectacles and had light blue eyes. He wore a simple gray plaid button up tucked into black pants, a dark blue cardigan over the shirt. “Your friend?” he asked, looking around for a second person.

“Yeah, she’s wearing a dress and heels,” Hyunjin explained. “We’ve just come from a party down the road,” he added, anxiety starting to build. ‘What if this man just told him to leave and slammed the door in his face?’ Hyunjin was very much aware of how suspicious this sounded.

Another figure appeared, an older woman Hyunjin assumed was the man’s wife. “Oh Larry,” she said softly. She wore a white and black floral button down blouse, a khaki maxi skirt and a light pink knit cardigan over her shirt. Her silvery hair was curled and styled. Gold wire framed glasses hung around her neck.

“They need help,” she added as she joined her husband. “Where’s the car?” the man, Larry, asked. Hyunjin pointed over his shoulder. “Just a mile down from the end of your driveway,” he answered. The man nodded and moved from the door.

“Are you hurt at all?” the woman asked and Hyunjin shook his head. “No, we’re okay. Mostly just shaken up. The car seems to be fine, too,” he added. “It’s just stuck in the ditch.” The woman offered a warm smile, putting Hyunjin’s nerves at ease.

The man returned moments later, dressed for the weather and sat on a bench to put on his boots. “Be careful,” his wife said as he got up, pulling on a thermal hood before putting on his gloves. He grabbed a shovel and stepped out onto the porch to join Hyunjin. “I’ll be back in a bit, Edi,” he said, pulling the bottom of his cowl up to cover his mouth and nose.

The door shut and Hyunjin led the way down the porch, the man, Larry following him. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this,” Hyunjin said as they walked side by side. “What’s your name, son?” the man asked him. “Hyunjin,” he answered. “Hwang Hyunjin. My friend is Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“I’m Lawrence,” the man introduced himself. “That was my wife Edith.”

They reached the end of the driveway and started down the road to where the car sat. Hyunjin hoped that they’d be able to get the car out of the ditch so he could get you home. He didn’t want to force you to spend more time with him than necessary as it seemed you already didn’t want to be around him.

“Where did you say you were coming from, again?” Lawrence asked. “A party down the road. About ten miles. It’s my friend’s cousin’s house,” Hyunjin explained as they neared the car. Snow had begun to collect on the surface, covering the windows. “Boy, it’s really coming down,” Lawrence noted.

“You really managed to dig yourselves in here,” he added as he looked at the car. Hyunjin nodded slowly. “Yeah, honestly, we just slid right off the road and I tried to back out a few times but the back wheels couldn’t catch on anything. Too much snow.” Lawrence nodded as he walked over to the back of the car, carefully dragging his feet through the snow.

“Snow’s too powdery,” he added as he kicked at the snow. “And it’s not packed down, so you would get any traction.” Hyunjin nodded as he spoke before he remembered you sitting in the car. “I’m gonna check on Y/N,” he announced and walked over to the driver’s side door, wiping the snow away with a gloved hand. “He peered in before opening the door and looking in.

“I brought someone who might be able to help,” he explained. You nodded. Hyunjin could tell you looked cold. He kneeled onto his seat and looked behind his seat into the back of the car. He removed his glove, grabbing another blanket and tugged it out from under a duffle bag.

“Here,” he said, handing it to you. “We’re gonna try and dig the car out or pack some snow under the wheel and see if we can’t get the wheels to get any traction.” You took the second blanket and immediately spread it out over you. “What if you can’t get the car out?” you asked, your voice soft.

Hyunjin pulled his hat off and scratched the back of his head before running his fingers through his hair a couple times. “I don’t know,” he finally said, putting his hat back on. “I’ll keep you updated,” he added before getting out and shutting the door again. Hyunjin moved back around to the back of the car with Lawrence who was bent over, peering at the back wheels.

“Well,” he started as he stood up straight. “We could pack snow under these tires for hours and you probably still won’t get enough traction to get out. This embankment is too steep. You’re gonna need someone to pull her out,” he explained. Hyunjin’s heart sank as Lawrence spoke. He’d feared as much.

“What are we supposed to do?” Hyunjin asked softly. “I suppose I could call my road-side assistance,” he continued. “But they may not be able to get out here until after the snow lets up.” Lawrence nodded. “And they run the risk of getting stuck themselves.”

Hyunjin sighed, looking up and down the deserted road. “I’m sure Edi wouldn’t mind if you came and stayed with us for the night. Hopefully in the morning, the snow will have let up and the crews are out clearing the roads so you can be on your way,” Lawrence explained.

Hyunjin turned to look at him. “Wait, really?” he asked. Lawrence nodded. “Seems like your only option at this point. Otherwise you’d be forced to stay out here and that could kill you.” Hyunjin nodded and moved to the door, pulling it open and ducking down to peer in.

You looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “We won’t be able to get the car out tonight,” he started and your stomach immediately sank. “But this guy I brought said we can stay the night with him and his wife.” You perked up at the thought of a warm bed and perhaps a hot shower. “Really?” you asked and Hyunjin nodded. “You got any boots in that bag of yours?”

You nodded quickly. “I got boots and some clothes.”

Hyunjin closed the door so you could change, pulling on a pair of pants and socks, slipping on the boots you thankfully brought along before stuffing your shoes into your bag. Once you were dressed, you tried to open your door but found it was stuck. You leaned over the center console and knocked on the window.

Hyunjin turned, opening the door and peering in at you. “I can’t open my door. Something’s blocking it.” Hyunjin cursed under his breath. “Probably the snow,” he murmured. “Give me your bag,” he said, holding out a hand. You handed it to him and he set it on top of the car before leaning back in. “Hand me my duffle bag,” he instructed.

You grabbed it from behind his seat and pulled it to the front. Hyunjin opened it, pulling out his gym gear he wouldn’t need and tossed it into the back before taking one of the blankets, folding it and stuffing it into the bag. He then set the bag with yours and leaned down one last time.

“Come on,” he said, holding his hand out. “You’re gonna have to climb out this way.”

You threw the other blanket into the backseat and started to climb, cursing under your breath as you struggled. You took his hand as you climbed into the driver’s seat and scrambled out into the snow, Hyunjin steadying you with his hands.

You murmured a thank you and looked up. “Don’t mention it,” he replied before grabbing yours and his bags. You noticed an older man standing on the road. He took the bags from Hyunjin so the two of you could focus on climbing up the embankment, Hyunjin helping pull you up onto the road.

“This is Lawrence,” Hyunjin introduced the older man standing there with a snow shovel in one hand and both of your bags in the other. “Hello,” you said breathlessly, your breath coming out in puffs. Lawrence nodded in response.

Once on level ground, you took your bag and followed them as they headed back down the road. Hyunjin made sure to lock the doors and looked sadly at his car before jogging to catch up with you and Lawrence. “My poor car,” he mumbled. You looked up at him, the cold stinging your skin and biting at the tip of your nose. “It could have been worse,” you commented.

The walk back to the house wasn’t long and soon you were walking up the steps to the porch. Lawrence let you two in first, making sure you kicked any snow off your shoes before stepping inside with him bringing up the rear. Hyunjin started to remove his coat and you followed as Lawrence hung up the shovel and also started to shed his winter gear.

An older woman came around the corner dressed in floral, khaki, and pink. She reminded you of a sweet grandmother who baked pies and knitted her grandchildren hats and scarves. “This is my wife, Edith,” Lawrence explained. You nodded at her politely. “This is Y/N,” Hyunjin introduced you and you smiled at the woman, Edith. “You look frozen,” she commented. “Come in and warm up.”

You followed Edith, leaving your cold weather gear behind as you walked into the living area.

The room was a modest size, the living room separated from the kitchen by a large kitchen island. Along the back wall was a large fireplace with a fire already going. The kitchen was a galley style, taking up the side wall of the house, a door leading to the back of the house at the other end.

“Come, come in,” Edith said, guiding you over to sit in front of the fireplace. You glanced up at Hyunjin who nodded and followed you. “Are you hungry?” Edith asked as you took a seat on the couch nearest the fireplace, letting your bag fall to your feet. Hyunjin took a seat beside and looked up at your hosts.

“I could eat,” he answered. “Y/N?” he asked. You looked up at the mention of your name. “You hungry?” Hyunjin asked. You shook your head. “Actually,” you said, looking past him at the couple. “I could really use a shower.” Edith smiled and nodded. “You get some food heated up for our guest,” she said, patting her husband’s arm.

“I’ll show you to the upstairs bathroom,” she added, turning to you. You grabbed your bag and got up, following her through the house and towards the front door. She guided you up a set of stairs, into a hallway where there were three doors.

“This is the bathroom,” Edith said, opening a door and turning on the light. “This room next door is the office and the extra bedroom is that room there,” she continued, pointing out the different doors. “Are you sure you aren’t hungry, dear?” Edith asked as you moved to enter the bathroom.

“I’m sure,” you replied. “I ate at the party we were at earlier. I think I just need a shower and some sleep.” Edith hummed and moved into the bathroom, where she opened a small door to show you the contents. “The towels are in here,” she said softly before shutting the door.

“Just make sure to clean up any water,” she said with a smile and moved to the door. “If you change your mind after your shower, just let me know and I’ll whip something up for you.” You smiled as she exited, thanking her once again before closing the door.

You turned to the shower and pulled back the curtain, turning on the water and letting it heat up. Stepping under the stream, you sighed, letting the hot water run down your body before scrubbing away the events of the night. Once you felt you were sufficiently clean, you turned the water off and got out of the shower, grabbing a towel and starting to dry yourself off.

You chose to change into your pajamas you’d packed before stepping out of the bathroom and making your way to the bedroom. Upon opening the door, your eyes landed on the bed and sighed. ‘I can’t wait to get some sleep,’ you thought to yourself as you stepped into the room, setting your bag in a cream colored armchair near the door. In the middle of the room against the wall was a queen sized bed, cream colored linens covered the bed.

You moved over to the mattress and sat on the edge, letting out an exhausted sigh. As you were about to start getting under the covers, you heard the doorknob turn and looked up in time to see the door open and Hyunjin appear. ‘Oh no. no way.’

Hyunjin sighed, entering the door and shutting it behind him. “One bed,” he murmured, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. Judging by the damp locks, you assumed he’d just taken a shower as well. “Yep,” you said, looking down at the mattress. Hyunjin shook his head before letting out a huff.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said suddenly.

You looked up at him in shock as he moved to drop his bag in the opposite corner of yours. “Hand me those extra pillows,” he continued. You started handing them to him, watching as he made himself a small, measly bed on the floor with pillows and moved to grab the blanket he’d brought from his car.

“Goodnight,” Hyunjin said as he laid down, covering himself with the blanket. You hesitated, staring down at him before finally turning off the lamp and throwing the room in darkness. The only light source coming from the flood light reflecting off the snow outside.

You turned over, your back to Hyunjin on the floor, and tried to fall asleep but you kept opening your eyes. Minutes felt like they were ticking by, the only sound being the house creaking occasionally and Hyunjin’s steady breathing.

You finally couldn’t take it anymore. You sat up, reaching over to turn on the light. “Get up,” you said.

Hyunjin sighed and lifted his head to look at you. “What?” he asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

“I said get up,” you replied. Hyunjin grumbled as he sat up, pushing himself up to his feet.

“What?” he asked, turning to face you. “Am I breathing too loud? Do you want me to leave?”

You hit the bed beside you. “The floor can’t be comfortable. Just get in the bed.”

Hyunjin froze, staring at you with a mixture of shock and confusion.

“What?” he whispered. You looked up at him. “Just get in the bed.”

Hyunjin shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I said I’d sleep on the floor. It’s f-”

“It’s not fine and I won’t ask you again, Hyun,” you cut him off, his heart skipping a beat at the nickname he hadn’t heard in years. “Just get in the bed, please.”

He hesitated for a moment more before bending over to grab the pillows and blanket, moving around to the other side of the bed and sitting down. He replaced the pillows and pulled the blankets back, settling under them before throwing the extra blanket on top.

“And you’re sure about this?” he asked softly as you laid back down.

“Yes!” you replied, turning your head to look at him. “I’m sure.”

Hyunjin nodded, saying nothing as he turned onto his side. “Thanks,” he muttered. You reached for the light, your heart pounding at being this close in such an intimate setting after two years. “Don’t mention it,” you replied, turning off the light and throwing the room back into darkness once more.

——————————————————————————————————————————

You awoke the next morning to find the room was bright from the light reflecting off the snow and in through the windows. Blinking the sleep away, you started to sit up when you were aware of a weight across your midsection. You glanced down, lifting the blanket to find Hyunjin’s arm wrapped around you, his chest pressed into your back.

Your stomach leapt as you tried to remain calm. You carefully removed his arm and sat up, making sure to try and not disturb him. Getting up, you walked over to one of the windows and looked out to find a thick blanket of snow had fallen during the night, covering everything in white.

You briefly wondered if the car was covered as well before you heard Hyunjin groan, starting to rouse.

You quickly moved to grab your toiletry bag and headed out of the room, down the hall into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash the remnants of sleep away.

Once you were done, you returned to the room where Hyunjin was sitting up, phone in his hands as he scrolled through his notifications. He looked up as you entered and you internally chuckled at his mess of black hair. He’d always woken up with the messiest hair.

“Morning,” he grumbled, returning his gaze to his phone.

“Morning,” you replied as you put your toiletry bag away and searched through it for something to wear.

You heard the mattress creak as Hyunjin got up and heard his feet shuffle over to the corner where his bag was. You kept your eyes down as he made his way past you and into the hall, letting the door shut behind him. You let out a breath of relief before launching into hyper speed, stripping your pajamas off and redressing.

You zipped your bag, remembering how he used to see your open bag as an invitation to root around. ‘Surely he wouldn’t…’ you thought but decided not to take the chance. You opened the bedroom door and headed out and down the stairs where the smell of coffee and food greeted you.

Walking into the kitchen, you found your hosts already up and dressed. Lawrence had donned a dark blue sweater with a white collar peeking out from the neck and a pair of thick boot cut jeans. He was sitting at the dining table, a plate of breakfast in front of him and a mug of coffee in his hand as he read the paper.

Edith turned to look at you, offering a warm smile as she cooked at the kitchen island. She’d put on a pair of khaki slacks with a white and pink heart polka dot print top, a red cardigan draped around her slender frame.

“Morning!” she chirped and you couldn’t help but smile as you entered the kitchen. “You hungry?” she asked, to which you nodded. “Starving, actually,” you replied as the stairs creaked. “There’s coffee,” Edith said as she stirred the contents of the skillet. “Help yourself. Creamer is in the fridge and sugar is on the counter.” You moved towards the coffee pot, noticing two mugs sitting on the counter for you and Hyunjin to use.

You grabbed the red one with the words “world’s best grandma” on them. You busied yourself with fixing a cup of coffee as Hyunjin entered the kitchen, greeting Edith when she spoke. “Coffee’s over there. I’ll have your food ready soon,” Edith said as she flipped the eggs over, cutting them with the tip of the spatula.

Hyunjin moved to stand next to you, reaching for the mug but you stopped him, handing him the mug in your hands. “Cream and extra sugar, right?” you asked, making him look up from the mug at you. He nodded, taking the mug with a murmured thanks. You smiled to yourself, content with the knowledge that he was going to be drinking from a mug that said “World’s Best Grandma” as you made your own cup of coffee.

Once you’d taken a seat, Edith plated the food in the skillet and brought them over, setting both down in front of you. “I wasn’t sure what you liked,” she started. “So there’s a bit of everything.”

You smiled at her, thanking her before turning your attention back to the plate. There was an assortment of breakfast food from eggs to sausage to bacon. There was even a biscuit, already buttered and sitting open on the plate. You dug in, relishing the flavors and having a hot meal in your stomach.

“Over a foot of snow fell last night,” Lawrence said, drawing your attention as you glanced up at him. “It’s still snow,” he continued, folding the newspaper and looking up at you and Hyunjin. “There’s more on the way, according to the weather forecast. A blizzard is supposed to blow through the area.”

You swallowed thickly at this news, glancing quickly at Hyunjin to your right. His eyes were on Lawrence, looking as if he was trying to process what to say next only Lawrence beat him to it.

“Edith and I think it would be best if you two stayed another night. Just until the blizzard blows through. I’ve already called a neighbor who has agreed to help tow your car out of the ditch after the blizzard. He’s gone to uncover and dig out the car so when the blizzard arrives, we’ll have less to dig out afterwards.”

Hyunjin nodded, you could see relief wash over him. “Thank you so much,” Hyunjin finally said. Lawrence nodded, giving him a smile. “That does mean, of course,” Lawrence continued. “That we’ll need your help to prepare for the blizzard.”

You nodded, thankful they were allowing you to stay another night. “Just tell us what we need to do,” you said with a firm nod. “We’re happy to help since you’re letting us stay.” Edith interrupted with her soft voice. “Finish your breakfast first and then we’ll go over what needs to be done.”

After eating and downing another cup of coffee, Lawrence and Edith explained everything that needed to be done before the blizzard arrived. They needed more firewood chopped and brought in from the cellar. Edith needed to restock the pantry and fridge and Lawrence wanted to get up on the roof and knock down most of the snow that was up there to keep the roof from potentially buckling under the weight.

Hyunjin offered to climb the ladder so Lawrence didn’t have to. Edith voluntold you that you’d stay inside with her and help with the household chores while Lawrence and Hyunjin handled all the outdoor and heavy lifting.

After divvying up the tasks, Hyunjin and Lawrence pulled on their snow gear and headed out into the frigid white wasteland while you and Edith started cleaning up the kitchen and getting a load of laundry going. You made sure to follow her instructions carefully before setting the timer on the washer and joined her back in the kitchen.

“I’ve asked Larry to send Hyunjin up with some stuff from the cellar. It might take him a few trips,” she explained as she opened the pantry door and you peered in. You noticed that it was modestly stocked, the shelves not as full as they could have been. “We buy in bulk,” Edith continued. “And keep the majority of it down in the cellar. We’re able to buy enough groceries to keep us going for a few months.”

You said nothing as you watched her, jumping slightly when you heard a knock at the back door.

Edith walked over and opened it. Hyunjin was carrying a massive box. “Where do you want it?” he asked, his voice strained. “Set it on this,” Edith said, pulling out a small rug and setting it on the floor. Hyunjin did so and Edith thanked him. “We can just slide this over,” she added. Hyunjin nodded and turned to leave but not before stopping to look at you, catching your gaze.

You turned away wordlessly and helped Edith push the box across the wood floors to the kitchen.

Inside the box was an assortment of refrigerated and frozen goods. You sat on a stool, pulling contents from the box to hand to Edith while she arranged them neatly in the fridge. Once you were finished, she took the box and walked over to the door just as a figure appeared behind the glass.

Hyunjin had returned with more food from the cellar. “He said this should be everything for the pantry,” Hyunjin said as he looked into the box and then up at Edith. You got up and hurried over, taking the box so the older woman wouldn’t have to. “Oh, thank you Y/N,” she said with a smile. You nodded as you shifted the box in your arms. “You got it?” Hyunjin asked softly and you looked up at him.

Your eyes met and you felt a warmth spread throughout you, something you hadn’t felt while looking at him in a long time. There was a look on his face. Part of it was concern, but the rest of it was nothing but compassion. “I can carry it if it’s too heavy,” he added.

You shook your head. “It’s okay,” you replied. “I got it, Hyun.”

He nodded, glancing at Edith as she watched the exchange with something akin to adoration in her eyes. “Okay,” he replied. “Well, I’ll just go help Lawrence chop wood or something,” he murmured, cheeks turning a shade of pink. Whether it was from your exchange or the cold you couldn’t tell.

Hyunjin left, allowing Edith to close the door and lead you over to the kitchen where you set the box on the floor and moved the stool so you could start to pull cans out of the box and set them on the counter while Edith took note of everything, checking it off her list. Once you emptied the box, Edith took it back over to the door, setting it to the side.

You said nothing as she started grabbing the cans from the counter and putting them in the pantry, arranging them on the shelves the way she liked them. While she worked, you continued to pull cans out of the box, your mind wandering.

Ever since you’d run into Hyunjin again, something has been different. The usual tension you felt in his presence seemed to be missing. It was like after two years apart, you were strangers again. Strangers who had grown apart but also grown up and changed, possibly for the better?

You couldn’t be sure but something was definitely different about Hyunjin, that much you were sure of.

“So,” Edith’s voice brought you from your thoughts. You turned to look at her. “How long have you two kids been together?” You stared at her in stunned silence. ’What?’ You shook your head slowly.

“We’re not together,” you answered. Edith gave you a surprised wide-eyed look. “Oh, I’m sorry dear,” she replied. “I thought you were together. My mistake for assuming.” You stared at her as she turned away, putting the items from the cellar into the cabinets. “We used to be,” you finally admitted.

Edith turned to look at you. “Hyunjin and I used to be together.”

She offered a kind smile. “I thought there was something there,” she said softly, moving to grab more cans. “What ended it?” You glanced up, watching as she neatly stacked the cans in the cabinet. “We weren’t exactly good for each other,” you admitted. “We fought a lot.”

Edith nodded wordlessly before turning one last time to look at you as she gathered the last of the cans.

“Fights happen, dear,” she replied. “It’s normal to fight from time to time.”

You shook your head, playing with your fingers as you avoided her gaze.

“It wasn’t just every once in a while,” you explained. “It was almost every other day until it became everyday. We were both insecure, accusing the other of cheating. I would demand to know where he was every minute and he retaliated by demanding to go through my phone. We had a lot of issues and our break up was inevitable and honestly, we’re better off.”

Edith pursed her lips as she finished gathering the cans, turning to the pantry to finish stocking it.

“Sometimes insecurities can drive a wedge between one another,” she started. “But there had to be a reason you stayed together,” she added, turning back around as she closed the pantry door. Your cheeks burned. “I’m not sure why we stayed together so long,” you admitted.

It was the truth. You couldn’t recall why you and Hyunjin stayed together for so long. Without the fights, you couldn’t recall many positive memories. You were both young, working and finishing college. You shared an apartment for convenience and for costs as well but you hardly spent time there.

You were mostly at school, work, or the library studying. The apartment was for food and sleeping. You only ever saw Hyunjin in passing or on the rare occasion you both had time off from work. At first, those sparse moments of time together were spent enjoying some time to relax from your exhaustive lifestyles. You weren’t exactly sure when things got bad just that one day, the fights started and didn’t stop.

The makeup sex was always fantastic but the moments of peace didn’t last long and soon you were at each other’s throats again. It was a vicious cycle that continued until you inevitably ended things.

[flashback - two years ago]

The apartment was cold and empty when you returned from work. ‘Hyunjin must not be home,’ you told yourself as you slipped your shoes off and set your bag on the kitchen counter. You moved towards the bedroom, entering and starting to strip as you felt like you were pulling off the weight of the day.

It had been a rough few days at work and it was starting to wear you down. Not to mention you had been doing the bulk of the housework as your boyfriend was never home anymore, always working or not being around you. It didn’t bother you like it used to. You were used to this by now.

Once you were in some clean clothes, you headed back to the kitchen to make yourself something to eat, noticing the dirty pot Hyunjin no doubt used to make ramyeon earlier. You weren’t sure why but seeing that small piece of cookware just sitting on the counter made your blood boil.

‘So he can cook and eat here but he can’t clean up after himself?’

You scoffed as you moved to the sink, picking up the pot and starting to wash it, scrubbing it with a sponge. You finished rinsing it and set it to dry as the front door opened, Hyunjin entered with a heavy sigh as he shut the door and kicked his shoes off by the door.

He started to pass the kitchen and caught sight of you standing by the sink.

“Oh, you’re home,” he said and you could detect a bite of animosity to his tone. How dare he.

You whipped around, anger taking over your form as you unloaded on him.

“Of course I’m here,” you snapped. “Where else would I be?”

Hyunjin’s brows rose for a moment before a frown appeared on his face. “I never know where you are anymore,” he snapped back. “Working, Hyunjin! I’m working! That’s all I ever do!” you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“I go to work, I bust my ass and then I come back here and I still have to work because you can’t seem to clean up after yourself!”

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?” he asked as he let his own bag fall to the ground with a thump. “I’m hardly ever here. What is there to clean up?”

“Dishes! You make yourself food and then leave the dishes sitting on the counter and I have to clean them up otherwise they will pile up!” you shouted. Hyunjin rolled his eyes, setting you off further. “I was going to clean that up,” he started. “I was just in a rush to get out of the house for a meeting. I work, too, you know.”

You could feel your blood boiling. “Oh, is that what you call it?” you asked sarcastically. “Meeting with your boss’ secretary again?” you snapped. Hyunjin groaned, rolling his eyes again. “She’s my coworker! How many times do I have to tell you, there’s nothing going on there!”

You ignored him, moving to the fridge, yanking the door open to hide him from your line of sight. You stared into the fridge at the contents, trying to figure out what to make yourself for dinner. Silence fell over the two of you before Hyunjin spoke.

“So, what’s for dinner?”

You slammed the door shut, rounding on him. “Nothing!” you spat. “You can make yourself something. I’m going to bed.”

You stormed past him, not noticing the way he turned to look at you in shock.

“But you haven’t eaten!” he called as you reached the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Hyunjin sighed and turned back to the kitchen, moving to open the door and inspect the fridge contents. He grabbed several of the items and moved to the stove, grabbing the now clean pot. He’d just make something simple and split it with you.

You laid on your side, knees curled up as silent tears flowed. You couldn’t keep doing this. It wasn’t working. You’d done nothing but fight with Hyunjin for as long as you could remember. You couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had a civil conversation.

As you laid there, a soft knock sounded on the wood of the door. You quickly wiped your eyes but remained silent. You heard the click of the latch as Hyunjin turned the knob and pushed the door open with a quiet creak.

“Y/N?” he called in a whisper. You ignored him, keeping your back turned. “I made some food. I brought yours.” You heard him enter the room fully now and move to your side of the bed. There was a gentle thud as he set presumably a bowl on the bedside table before a light clicked on.

You felt the bed dip as he sat on the edge of the mattress behind you.

“Babe,” he said softly, placing his hand gently on your arm. “You sleeping?”

You shook your head wordlessly. You felt his thumb trace soft circles against your sleeve.

“Baby,” he started, leaning over slightly. “You need to eat something.”

“M’not hungry,” you croaked. Your voice sounded awful from the silent sobbing you’d been doing since you slammed the door earlier. Hyunjin tugged you onto your back, looking down at you with concern. “Are you sick?” he asked, moving his hand to feel your forehead. You pushed his hand away.

“No,” you replied and tried to turn back over but he stopped you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, preventing you from rolling away from him.

“Talk to me.”

You let out a weak laugh. “Talk. Yeah, we haven’t talked in ages, Hyun.” His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” he asked, moving his hand to cup your cheek. You pushed his hand away again. “We don’t talk, Hyunjin,” you replied. “We fight. That’s all we ever do when we’re together. I can’t remember the last time we had an actual conversation that didn’t result in one of us coming in here and slamming the door.”

A look of hurt flashed over Hyunjin’s face. “It’s just a rough spot,” he murmured. “We’re both swamped with work. It’ll work itself out,” he continued. You shook your head. “No it won’t,” you replied. Hyunjin watched as you sat up before moving to take your face in his hands. “Let’s just forget it. I’m sorry,” he said softly, thumbs caressing your cheeks. “I shouldn’t have left my mess for you to clean up. I should have managed my time better.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips. Normally, you would have melted into his kisses but you were too numb now, having spent the last hour in a dark room making up your mind to do what you’d been dreading to do.

But knowing it was what you needed to do.

Hyunjin pulled back to look at you. “Y/N?” he asked softly. You took a deep breath and looked up to meet his curious gaze. “Hyunjin,” you started, your heart hammering in your chest, stomach churning at what you were about to say.

“We need to break up.”

[end flashback - the present]

You blinked as the memory leading up to your break up with Hyunjin dissipated into the background as you returned to the reality in front of you. Edith was looking at you with the expression you imagined a wise old sage would give before giving some kind of ancient wisdom.

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “The way he looks at you says another story.”

Your eyes widened slightly. ‘The way he looks at me?’ you wondered. ‘What does she mean by that?’

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, shaking your head. Edith chuckled softly. “It just means that maybe there’s still something there, on his end.” You fell silent, thinking back to your recent interactions with Hyunjin but not finding anything that would even remotely paint the picture Edith was imagining.

That was it, she had to be imagining. Projecting hers and Lawrence’s happiness onto you and Hyunjin. There was no other explanation.

You forced a smile. “I highly doubt that,” you replied quietly, still grateful all the same. Edith sighed and shook her head. “You never know if you don’t ask,” she started. “But what do I know? I’m just an outsider, dear,” she added, moving to pat your hand before she moved to start dinner.

“Be a dear, and give me a hand,” she half asked. You nodded, standing up and moving to her side.

“How can I help?”

“How much more wood do we need?” Hyunjin asked as he loaded another armful of firewood in his arms. “Just a few more bundles,” Lawrence answered as he started to grab pieces as well. They’d spent part of the afternoon salting the pathway from the doors to the cellar to make sure they could get down there if needed. Hyunjin had cleared the snow away with a shovel for Lawrence to follow.

They’d then spent some time chopping wood for the fireplaces just in case the power went out. Hyunjin learned a lot from Lawrence including how he and Edith met, how long they’d been married, and how long they’d lived in this house.

“Take those to the back door and come back to get one more bundle,” Lawrence instructed as Hyunjin headed towards the steps leading out of the cellar. He nodded and climbed the steps, following the shoveled path to deposit the wood by the back door.

He stopped as he stood up straight, catching a glimpse of you through the glass as you helped Edith in the kitchen, chatting away as you cooked. He watched as you threw your head back, a laugh escaping you. It was a sound he hadn’t heard in years. A sound he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss it.

He could recall plenty of times you’d both been happy in your relationship but he couldn’t seem to pinpoint the last time you’d been happy together. When you suggested breaking up, he panicked. He threw out promises to do better, to be better. He reiterated how much he loved you.

He didn’t want to lose you but ultimately he did. You offered to leave the apartment but he refused, telling you to stay and he could move in with a friend. It was a last minute situation, crashing on his friend’s couch. He stayed there until he was able to find a place of his own and came back to get his things.

[flashback - two years ago]

Hyunjin looked up at the building, letting out a sigh as he tried to calm his nerves.

He really didn’t want to do this but he had no choice. He didn’t have the money to replace his things and he was sure you were sick of having his shit in the apartment.

He finally willed himself to move, putting one foot in front of the other and entering the building. As he waited for the elevator, he contemplated chickening out and asking you to send him his stuff instead but he knew you’d be angrier than if he just showed up.

The ride up to your floor was shorter than he remembered and soon he was standing in front of your door. He raised his fist to knock but hesitated when he heard laughter coming from behind the door. It was your laughter but there was another voice as well.

His heart sank as it dawned on him that another man might be in the apartment with you. Suddenly chickening out and facing your wrath seemed like an easier option than facing whatever was waiting for him behind the door. Seeing as he’d already made the trip here, he knocked three times, his knuckles feeling sore at the force he put behind it.

There was a moment of silence before he heard the familiar click of the lock turning before the door opened and your face appeared. Each time Hyunjin saw you, it took his breath away. You were still just as beautiful as the day he left, even more so because you looked healthier.

Happier.

“I uh, came to get the rest of my stuff,” he murmured softly. You nodded, taking a step back and pulling the door open for him. Inside the apartment was unrecognizable. What was once your shared space had changed. The furniture was gone, boxes taped shut and labeled stacked neatly against the wall.

The cabinets had been emptied and cleaned. Standing in the kitchen was a man Hyunjin had never seen before. He stared at the man as he cleaned the stove, making sure to scrub the surface well. He turned and met Hyunjin’s gaze. You must have noticed Hyunjin’s reluctance to move because you moved to introduce the man.

“This is my coworker, Minho,” you explained. ‘Coworker?’ Panic spread throughout his body. Had he been correct in assuming you were sleeping around behind his back? Footsteps pulled him from his thoughts and he turned to find yet another man entering the living room, carrying another box.

“That’s everything from the bedroom,” he announced as he carried the box over to the others along the wall and set it down. Hyunjin eyed the second man before glancing at you for confirmation. “And this is Minho’s partner, Jisung,” you added, gesturing to the second man who smiled warmly.

‘Partner? So you hadn’t been sleeping with your coworker?’

“Uh, hi,” Hyunjin answered meekly. When did he become so soft-spoken? Especially around you? The break up had really done a number on him. His confidence had dropped drastically and he’d been a mess. He spent a lot of the first week crying himself to sleep on his friend’s couch. He couldn’t even find it in him to be angry. He just wanted you back.

“Your boxes are over here,” you said, beckoning to follow you and leading him to the corner of the living room opposite the door. “I made sure to keep them separate from mine and I went ahead and labeled them so you’d know what’s in them,” you explained. Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat. Even now, you were still looking out for him. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble,” Hyunjin said softly.

You shook your head, dismissing his concern with your hand. “I had to label mine anyway, so it wasn’t any trouble. Do you need help carrying them down to your car?” you asked, looking up at him. He almost shook his head but was interrupted by the man in your kitchen, Minho. “Ji’s done bringing the boxes from the kitchen, he can help you carry your stuff down,” he offered, looking at Jisung who smiled and nodded. “Yeah,” Jisung replied, walking over to where the two of you stood.

“Then we can load your stuff up,” Jisung added, turning to look at you. “We still have to set up your room,” he added with a nudge. Hyunjin looked between the two of you, a brow raised. “Her room?” he asked subtly. Jisung nodded. “Y/N’s moving into our spare bedroom and helping with rent!”

You smiled sheepishly at Jisung, turning to catch the look on Hyunjin’s face. He looked confused. “I tried to find an apartment,” you explained. “But nothing was in my price range.”

Hyunjin felt guilty even though he knew it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t expected you to leave the apartment but then again, he should have guessed it would happen as it was far out of your range alone. “I see,” he said softly. “Let’s get these down to your car,” Jisung said, breaking the awkward tension and picking up a couple boxes.

Hyunjin moved to grab one as Minho finished cleaning the stove. “There,” he said with a smug smile. “There’s no way you aren’t getting back that deposit,” he continued, sending a wink your way. Hyunjin continued walking, following Jisung to the elevator which was thankfully still on the floor.

The ride down was silent as neither wanted to be the one to speak first. Silently, the two carried the boxes out to Hyunjin’s car that was waiting by the curb. “Where d’you want these?” Jisung asked as Hyunjin unlocked the car, balancing the box in his arms against his chest. “Just in the backseat,” Hyunjin replied.

The two silently loaded the car and went back for more.

On the ride up in the elevator, Hyunjin finally spoke. “Make sure she eats,” he said softly, not looking at Jisung. From his periphery, he could tell the man had turned his head to look at him. “Sometimes she gets so engrossed in her work she forgets to eat. And make sure she takes her medicine. She forgets that sometimes, too.” Jisung said nothing, nodding instead wordlessly.

Upon entering the apartment, Hyunjin found you standing alone by the window, looking out over the city.

He walked over silently, grabbing a box as Jisung grabbed the last box and headed out into the hall. Hyunjin stared at you, the realization that this would be the last time he ever saw you dawning on him. He needed to say something. Say anything. He just needed you to look at him one last time.

“Y/N,” he said suddenly. You turned to look at him, tearing your gaze away from the window.

The two of you stood there, unmoving as you stared at one another, silence falling over you.

This was it. Hyunjin needed to say something. To tell you one last time how much he loved you.

His voice faltered and the words slipped from his grasp. You offered him a kind smile.

“Good luck, Hyunjin,” you said softly. “Live a good life.”

Hyunjin hesitated, his words failing him yet again before he uttered a simple “you, too.”

He turned away, forcing himself to head for the door despite his heart telling him to go back. Go back to you and bed for your forgiveness. To beg for a second chance. To pull you into a hug, hold you in his arms one last time. Kiss you and tell you he loved you and always would.

But instead of doing any of that, he went down to his car, throwing the last of the boxes with his shit in them, thanking Jisung, and getting into the driver’s seat. He drove straight to his apartment and sat in the quiet car as he fought the urge to cry. To sob. To scream. To do anything.

Just like that, you were gone from his life and he would never see you again.

[end flashback - the present]

Hyunjin forced himself to turn away from the door and head back down into the cellar. Lawrence had finished collecting a pile of wood and smiled as Hyunjin started to collect more. “Once you’re done, meet me inside and we’ll put the firewood in the holder and I can show you how to light one.”

Hyunjin nodded wordlessly as he gathered wood, listening to the sound of Lawrence retreating. He was trying to make sense of everything. Meeting you again like this two years after your break up. It had to mean something but Hyunjin wasn’t sure what it meant.

Was it pure coincidence? Was the universe giving him a second chance? Did it mean nothing and just that the two of you were sharing the same group of friends? He had too many questions and none of the answers.

Hyunjin climbed the stairs out of the cellar one last time, using his foot to close the door before heading to the backdoor and climbing onto the stoop where he kicked off the snow on his boots. He struggled to open the door and felt relieved when it opened for him, bringing him face to face with you.

You smiled warmly at him. “Saw you struggling out here,” you explained as you stepped back, holding the door open for him to enter. Hyunjin thanked you, making sure to wipe his feet and moving over to where Lawrence was ready to take the wood.

With his hands free, Hyunjin was able to remove his shoes and cold weather gear before walking over to where Lawrence was crouched by the fire. Hyunjin joined him, glancing back over his shoulder at you as you helped Edith in the kitchen.

“She seems like a lovely young lady,” Lawrence said softly, drawing Hyunjin’s focus away from you. He met the older man’s eyes and cleared his throat. “Yeah,” Hyunjin replied. “She is,” he added. “I sense some hesitation?” Lawrence asked, Hyunjin nodding silently.

“She’s my ex-girlfriend,” Hyunjin said softly, a sadness falling over him like the flurries of snow outside. Lawrence was silent for a moment before speaking. “How long ago did it end?” he asked as he grabbed a few logs of firewood and placed them in the hearth.

“Two years,” Hyunjin replied, not daring to look back at you for fear that you were watching them.

“How long were you together?”

“Six years,” Hyunjin answered. He heard Lawrence click his tongue as he grabbed a canister of fuel. “Two years isn’t a long time,” he muttered as he flipped the cap and poured a generous amount of the fuel onto the logs and set it aside. “Not nearly enough time to undo everything that happens in six.”

Hyunjin let out a sigh. “We fought a lot,” he explained. “Too much if I’m honest.” Lawrence nodded as he pulled out a box of matches and handed them to Hyunjin. “Fights happen,” he replied. “Lord knows Edith and I have had our fair share over the course of our relationship. There were times I was sure we wouldn’t last.” Hyunjin looked at him with wide eyes.

“All I’m saying is that it seems like the universe has given you a second chance. You just have to make sure you strike hard and true,” he added, tapping on the box of matches. Hyunjin glanced down at the box and opened it quickly, pulling out a match. He scraped the end against the side of the box, lighting the match easily.

Lawrence nodded at the hearth and Hyunjin tossed the match into the fuel soaked firewood which caught quickly. Lawrence used a poker to push the logs around to make sure the fire spread evenly before grabbing the cover and placing it in front of the open hearth.

“Let’s see if they need a hand in the kitchen,” Lawrence said with a smile, gesturing towards the kitchen where you and Edith were still cooking away. Hyunjin hesitated, looking at you as you tested a sauce you were making. You let Edith try some and he couldn’t help the smile that started to spread when Edith nodded and smiled, turning back to her project.

Hyunjin walked over behind Lawrence who stopped at the kitchen island. “You two look like you’re having way too much fun,” he stated sternly. “We’re just cooking,” Edith replied as she turned over the food in the skillet. “Y/N here has a talent for it.”

Hyunjin nodded, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, she does,” he said softly. Your eyes lifted to meet his and he could have sworn time stood still. The two of you staring at one another as if nothing else in the world existed. His heart hammered in his chest and just as quickly as it started, you looked away and time started up again, the sounds of cooking returning.

“Well,” Lawrence asked, leaning over to see into the skillet his wife was using. “Need a hand?”

After Edith effectively kicked her husband out of the kitchen, Hyunjin in tow, the two worked to make sure all the windows were locked and shutters shut for the incoming storm. The last thing the couple needed was a broken window from wind.

Once Hyunjin was certain the windows in the spare bedroom were shut tight and locked, he started for the door, stopping to look at your bag lying innocently in the chair in the corner of the room. The urge to look through it crossed his mind but as he moved over, he simply closed it and headed back to the door, turning off the light and heading for the stairs.

Downstairs, Lawrence was helping transfer the prepared food over to the table as you filled water glasses. Lawrence sat in his usual spot with Edith to his left. Hyunjin took a seat across from Lawrence, thanking you as you set a glass of water in front of him. You smiled at him before pouring another glass and setting it down in front of your place.

You turned away and Hyunjin forced himself to look away and not follow your movements.

Once you took your seat, Lawrence said grace and you started to help Edith serve the food. Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel like his life could have been like this had your relationship gone in a different direction. “Thanks,” he murmured as you handed him his plate, loaded with food.

Edith made you sit so she could serve you, which you protested against but eventually gave in, taking your seat and thanking her when your plate was also full. The four of you ate mostly in silence, only answering questions when asked. “Did you get a lot of firewood chopped?” Edith asked her husband.

Lawrence nodded, swallowing his bite. “We did. Hyunjin is a natural at chopping,” he added, giving Hyunjin a smile. “Oh no,” Hyunjin said with a shake of his head. “I was struggling a lot,” he added with a chuckle. “Nonsense,” Lawrence replied. “You did a lot better than most.”

Hyunjin thanked Lawrence for his compliment, returning his focus to his food.

The rest of dinner followed in mostly silence until no one else could anymore. “We’ll do the dishes,” Lawrence announced. “You ladies relax.” Edith lightly hit Lawrence with her napkin. “Sit,” she said in faux sternness. “Could you clean up the leftovers, Y/N?” she asked and you nodded, getting to your feet quickly. Edith cleared the plates as you packed away the leftovers and put them in the fridge before grabbing the rest of the dishes and moving to help her.

Hyunjin stared at you from his seat, watching you with a fond expression as you took the rinsed dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. Once this task was complete, you returned to the table with two small plates each with a slice of pie. You set one down in front of Lawrence who chuckled. “When did you make this?” he asked his wife. “I didn’t,” she replied.

“Y/N did.”

You smiled as you moved around to set the other plate in front of Hyunjin. “Cherry cobbler pie?” he asked, looking up to meet your gaze. You nodded slowly. “You remember?” you asked him softly and he nodded. “Of course. It was my favorite.”

Your cheeks burned as you turned away.

You knew Hyunjin had always loved the pies you liked to experiment with and bake but you never expected him to remember the Cherry Cobbler Pie. You returned to grab the other two slices, setting one down for Edith before taking your seat and setting your plate down.

Edith joined the table moments later and the four of you dug in. Edith smiled after the first bite. “So it’s a cherry pie?” she asked. You shook your head, your mouth still full. “It’s a mix between a cobbler and a pie,” Hyunjin explained. “She makes the bottom a pie crust but the top is a streusel.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide. He gave you a smile before taking another bite.

“You’ve had this before?” Edith asked with a knowing smile. Hyunjin nodded, swallowing. “I was the first to try it,” he replied. “I was there the day she made it.” You looked down at your slice, a lump forming in your throat. Just how much of these little things did he remember? You were certain he didn’t remember any of it. After the day he left and the way he left the apartment the day he picked up his stuff.

After dessert, you offered to do the rest of the dishes alone to let Edith rest. Hyunjin was quick to join you, getting up and offering a helping hand. You stood in the kitchen, side by side as you rinsed the dishes and handed them to him to put in the dishwasher.

Hyunjin glanced back at the living room where Edith and Lawrence were sitting together on the sofa, the tv playing quietly in the background. He turned back, catching sight of you as you rinsed the dishes silently and handed them to him. It wasn’t awkward or hostile. It was a comfortable silence.

The snow outside had started to pick up more and the sun had completely set by the time dinner was ready. “Are you tired?” Hyunjin asked you suddenly, breaking the silence but only enough for you to hear him. You looked up to meet his gaze. You nodded. “Today was exhausting,” you replied, turning your attention back to the dishes. “I can’t even imagine how tired you are from chopping firewood and hauling it in here,” you continued.

Hyunjin shrugged. “It’s not that bad,” he replied.

You shut off the water as you handed him the last of the dishes and removed the gloves, setting them aside to dry as Hyunjin finished filling the dishwasher and shut it. He turned to look at you. “Do you want to go to bed?” he asked. “It’s okay,” you shook your head. “I can tough it out.”

Hyunjin chuckled at your determination. “You can go to bed,” he said softly. His hand twitched as he resisted the urge to reach up and caress your cheek as he would have done in the past. Before the break up. Before the fights. Back to a time when you were both happy.

“Would you like to watch a movie?” Edith’s voice called and you staved off a yawn. “Sure!” you called back and turned away from Hyunjin, walking over to the living room. You took a seat on the other sofa, Hyunjin occupying the space beside you.

Lawrence started the movie and you tried to focus on it instead of Hyunjin’s body next to yours. A cold chill ran up your spine and Hyunjin quickly grabbed a blanket, pulling it over your laps as he settled back beside you.

About halfway through the movie, your eyes fluttered shut as sleep overtook you.

Hyunjin noticed you were sleeping when you gently slumped over against him. He moved his arm around your shoulders, allowing you to sleep as he kept his eyes on the TV screen but he couldn’t help glancing down, admiring your peaceful expression as you slept.

When the movie ended, Edith and Lawrence chuckled softly at the sight of you fast asleep against Hyunjin. “I’ll take her upstairs,” he said softly, pulling the blanket gently from your laps. “Y/N,” he said softly, giving you a gentle shake until you started to rouse.

“The movie’s over,” Hyunjin said softly. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”

Once he finally got you on your feet, Hyunjin guided you to the stairs, calling goodnight to your hosts before he started the arduous task of helping you climb the stairs in your half-asleep state. Once at the top of the stairs, he guided you to the bedroom and shut the door.

He dug out your pajamas from your bag and set them on the bed. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he announced, moving to the door. He went to the bathroom to do his business and when he returned, he was relieved that you managed to change your clothes. He quickly changed his pants when your back was turned, pulling his shirt off as his mind wandered.

“They really love each other,” Hyunjin said as he pulled his sleeping shirt over his head. You glanced up at him from your spot on the bed. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking away as Hyunjin turned, making his way to his side of the bed. “They really do.”

You felt the mattress dip behind you as Hyunjin sat down, pulling the covers over as he laid down. You hesitated. Could you share a bed with him after the thoughts and memories you did earlier? You shook your head, mentally willing the thoughts away and laid down, your back to your ex.

You murmured a goodnight, reaching up and turning the bedside lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. Silence fell over the two of you as you tried to force yourself to fall asleep.

“Y/N?” Hyunjin’s voice broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “Hmm?” you hummed.

“...do you miss it?” Your eyes popped open and you rolled over onto your back to look back at Hyunjin. “Miss what?” you asked, though you had a sinking suspicion what he was going to say.

“Us.” ‘There it is.’

You hesitated, taking a deep breath before answering him. “Hyunjin,” you started.

“We broke up for a reason.” He fell silent, letting your words sink in before he spoke.

“I know,” he answered. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss things.”

“Miss what? The arguments? The constant fighting?”

Hyunjin turned his head to look at you. “Is that all you remember?” he asked softly, looking mildly surprised. You shrugged. “It’s hard to remember anything else,” you admitted. Hyunjin turned onto his side to face you. “You want to know what I remember?” he asked, his voice still just above a whisper.

“What?” you asked, wondering what he could possibly remember from your relationship.

“I remember that old run down truck you used to have and how we used to go ‘camping’ where we’d throw an inflatable mattress in the bed and take blankets and pillows. Then we’d drive out to an old abandoned field and watch the stars.”

Your heart skipped a beat as the memory came to the forefront of your mind.

Your old black beat up pickup truck. The paint was peeling in places and part of the bed was rusted but you refused to get rid of it until the engine eventually quit. The camping had been Hyunjin’s idea. You’d had a bad day at work and managed to score the next two days off and Hyunjin decided to go to the store, making you drive. He grabbed the mattress and some other essentials.

He instructed you where to drive and where to park before getting out and setting up the mattress in the bed and grabbing the pillows and blankets he dragged from your apartment. He then made you get into the back with him. That night, you lay under the blanket of darkness, looking up at the sparkling stars and just existed. No worries, no talking.

It was one of the few times you and Hyunjin hadn’t fought.

“That was also the first night I said I loved you,” Hyunjin added softly, pulling you from your thoughts. You stared at him in silence, too shocked to say anything. “I also remember the time you tried to make french toast,” he continued, a chuckle slipping out. “And you burnt everything to a crisp!”

He was laughing now and you lightly slapped his shoulder. “Lawrence and Edith are sleeping!” you hissed but couldn’t stop the smile that started to spread across your face. You remembered that moment, too. “It tasted awful!” Hyunjin added. You rolled your eyes.

“I told you that you didn’t have to eat it!” you reminded him. “My girlfriend went out of her way to make me breakfast in bed. How could I not eat it?” The mention of the word girlfriend made your heart jump again. You stared at him, the only light being from the flood light outside reflecting off the snow.

Hyunjin pushed himself up onto his elbow to see your face better. “I miss that,” he replied. “Miss what? My cooking mishaps?” you asked with a scoff. Hyunjin chuckled but shook his head, reaching a hand out to cup your cheek. “Calling you my girlfriend,” he replied softly. You stared up at him, heat radiating from his palm against your cheek. “Hyun,” you whisper.

You needed to stop him. ‘This is dangerous territory. You’re sharing a bed in an elderly couple’s home in the middle of a snowstorm.’ “What?” he asked softly, leaning closer, hovering over you now. ‘We shouldn’t,’ part of you wanted to say. ‘We can’t.’ You had to stop him but part of you didn’t want to.

So instead, you said nothing, instead staring up at him silently. Hyunjin’s eyes dipped down to look at your lips once before he leaned in, closing the distance and pressing his lips against yours. You accepted the gesture, arms snaking around his neck and pulling him closer.

You knew this shouldn’t happen but what was one last time?

Hyunjin pulled back, lips just inches from yours. “Y/N,” he murmured, his hand moving to your waist. “Maybe we shouldn’t--”

You cut him off with another kiss, this time pulling him over you. Hyunjin followed your movements, careful not to put his weight on you as he settled between your thighs. “Fuck,” Hyunjin groaned, rolling his hips against yours, eliciting a moan from you.

His lips left a trail of kisses down the side of your neck, stopping to nip at the spot where your shoulder met your neck. Your thighs tightened around his waist, another mewl leaving your lips. You felt his hand push your shirt up, immediately taking one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue circling it as he sucked. “H-Hyunjin,” you whispered. He pulled back, looking at you with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse. “Nothing,” you breathed, moving a hand up to grip his hair, guiding his head back down to your chest. “Just feels good.” Hyunjin wasted no time, taking your nipple back on his mouth, one of his hands tucked under your back against the mattress while the other trailed down your body, sneaking between your bodies as he fumbled to push your shorts and underwear aside.

You let out another moan as his fingers found your slick entrance, tracing it before spreading your lips and finding your clit. “I forgot how wet you get,” Hyunjin groaned. “I could just slide right in.”

As if to demonstrate his point, he eased one of his fingers into you, almost with a sigh as if it brought him some sort of relief. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you, adding a second slowly and marveling at the way your walls sucked him in.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he murmured, lips leaving your chest to meet yours in a sloppy kiss. You moaned into his lips as his fingers continued to move, scissoring you open. It had been so long since you’d had sex with anyone that you were sure the last time you did was with Hyunjin before your inevitable break up.

But now, it was like no time had passed. Hyunjin still knew your body just like he did before. He knew what you liked and didn’t like as it hadn’t had time to change. It wasn’t like the first time you ever had sex with him. He wasn’t a nervous wreck, murmuring a sorry every five minutes.

He was a practiced lover, having had years to get accustomed to your body and you to his.

You let out a whine as Hyunjin pulled his fingers from your cunt, pressing a tender kiss against your collar before bringing his fingers to his mouth, cleaning them of your arousal. “Hyun,” you started but he cut you off with another kiss, groaning as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

He started to kiss his way down your neck again, down your chest and stomach as he reached the waistband of your shorts. He pulled them down, pulling your panties along with them and discarding them on the floor. He continued to kiss down your exposed skin until his head was between your thighs.

He pressed a quick kiss to your thigh before diving into you, spreading your folds and giving your sex a slow lick, almost groaning at the taste. You felt his lips wrap around your clit and you gasped out a moan, louder than you had intended.

“Shh,” Hyunjin whispered, lifting his head to look at you. “We have to keep it down,” he added. You nodded, murmuring out an apology. Hyunjin’s head dipped down, tongue flattening against your clit once more. Your hands snaked down, fingers curling in his hair as his tongue teased you closer and closer to the edge.

You warned him you were close and regretted it immediately as he pulled back. “Not yet,” he growled as you whined, trying to push his head back down. “Wanna cum together.” You sat up and pushed him down onto the bed, ignoring the squeaking of the frame as you struggled to pull his pants down.

Hyunjin fought the urge to laugh at your impatience as you managed to pull his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock from its confines. The laughter died before he could even let it out when he felt your fingers wrap around his cock. He shuddered as you spit on the tip, using it to lubricate your movements, stroking him quickly.

“Shit, baby,” Hyunjin hissed. “Slow down.”

You hummed in response but didn’t listen to his request. You added more spit and continued to pump your hand, looking up to meet his heated gaze. Your lips curled into a smirk and he narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed, knowing the look in your eye.

“Then fuck me already.”

Hyunjin grabbed your wrist, pulled your hand off him and pushed you onto your back, settling between your thighs as he took his length in his own hand, guiding the tip to your slit. “Only because you asked so nicely,” he murmured as he rubbed against you before pushing into you.

“Oh, shit!” you gasped as he slid into you. You glanced up at him, taking in his messy hair and flushed cheeks. His lips were swollen from your kisses, still glistening from tasting you earlier. You tugged at the base of his shirt, drawing his attention as he bottomed out.

“Off,” you whined. Hyunjin chuckled, grabbing his shirt and pulling it off, tossing it aside before he leaned over, placing his hands on either side of your head on the mattress. His hips pulled back only slightly before giving you a measure thrusts, making sure there wasn’t any restriction or discomfort.

“I’m fine,” you gasped, grabbing his bicep and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Just move, please.”

Hyunjin took your pleas to heart, snapping his hips and driving his cock into you. You moaned as softly as you could manage. Hyunjin set a firm but steady pace, losing himself in the feeling of your warm walls enveloping him, fluttering as each thrust pushed you towards the edge.

“Slowly,” he reminded himself verbally. “Wanna cum together.”

You whined as he slowed to a roll, the head of his cock brushing against the spongy soft spot inside you. “Oh fuck, Hyunjin!”

Hyunjin gave you a lopsided grin as he aimed for the same spot. “Right there, yeah?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

“Feels good when I fuck you, doesn’t it?” he asked, keeping his eyes on your face as he watched it contort in pleasure. “Only I know how to properly fuck you, isn’t that right?” You nodded, letting out a mewl as he slammed into you, punctuating his words.

“Say it, baby. I need to hear it.”

“Only you can fuck me right, Hyun.”

You heard him groan as his hips stuttered. “Only you,” you added for good measure.

“Shit, that’s right,” Hyunjin whispered, his voice barely audible of the sound of his cock pistoning in and out of you, a thin layer of sweat starting to collect on his skin from exertion. “Remember how you used to beg me for audio of me getting myself off?” he asked suddenly.

You did remember. You had told him early on in your sex life that you loved it when your partners moaned so Hyunjin would send you audio of him moaning as he touched himself. You saved almost all of them but deleted them after the break up.

“Used to love listening to me, didn’t you?”

You nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Hyunjin let out a moan, slowing his hips to a roll again, making you feel almost every inch of his cock. “God, you’re squeezing me so tight, baby,” he said as his head dropped into the crook of your neck, punctuating his next sentence with thrusts.

“So,” thrust. “Fucking,” thrust. “Tight,” thrust.

Your walls clenched around him, making him slow in an attempt to prolong his own orgasm. He wanted to indulge in you a little longer because he knew at some point this would end and you would eventually go your own ways but he wasn’t ready for that just yet. He needed to make this last as long as he could.

“Hyunnie,” you whined, hips moving to meet his, desperate for more friction. Hyunjin lifted his head, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek as he took your lips in a passionate kiss. “Faster, please,” you begged against his lips. Hyunjin couldn’t resist when you begged him, your voice breathless as he filled you with his cock over and over.

But he needed to. “Shhh,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut as he rolled his hips again. “Just enjoy it,” he added, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, chuckling when you chased him for more.

“I promise I’ll fuck you real good, sweetheart,” he continued. “Just let me enjoy this.”

You fell silent, looking up at his face, eyes shut as he focused. “Hyun,” you whined, trying to get him to look at you. “Please baby,” you cooed. You knew he normally couldn’t resist the plea in the past, not when you called him baby. His lips twitched as he fought off a smile.

“Not going to work, angel,” he replied softly, slowing his hips entirely and stilling inside you. You whined in protest, trying to move your hips but strong hands held you in place. “If you don’t stop that, I won’t let you cum at all,” Hyunjin warned. Your brows rose as you contemplated fighting him.

Finally, you huffed and admitted defeat. “Fine.”

Hyunjin leaned in, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Good girl,” he murmured, not missing the way you clenched around him. “Such a good girl for me,” he continued, taking full advantage of your weakness. “Doing so good and taking me so well.”

You whined again. “Hyunjin!” you whimpered. He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours again, one hand finding one of yours and lacing his fingers with yours. He pinned your hand against the pillows, lifting his hips and uttered a single warning in your ear.

“Don’t scream,” he whispered.

You didn’t have the chance to ask what he was talking about when the first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs. He’d held back earlier and you knew he did but now he wasn’t going to. Your moans turned into cries, rising in volume and pitch. Hyunjin hissed, moving his free hand to cover your mouth as he pounded into you.

“I told you not to scream,” he muttered as he muffled your screams, his hips slamming against yours. “Fuck,” Hyunjin groaned. “M’gonna cum. You close, baby?” You nodded, moaning loudly against his hand. “That’s it, baby,” Hyunjin said breathlessly. “Let go and cum for me.”

Your walls contracted around his cock, your toes curling as stars exploded in your vision, a searing white hot feeling spread throughout your body from your fingertips to your toes. At the same moment, you felt Hyunjin’s cock twitch inside you, signifying his own orgasm. His teeth sank into your shoulder as he came with a groan, spilling his hot load into you as his hips continued to move, fucking it further into you.

“Oh shit,” he gasped as he fucked the last of his release into you before his hips finally stilled and he let out a heavy sigh. You pushed his hand off your mouth, breaths coming out in pants as you tried to come down from your high. You felt Hyunjin pull out of you carefully, his seed starting to spill out onto the sheets.

“Ah, shit,” he cursed, rolling out of bed and hurrying to pull his pants back on. He disappeared and returned a moment later with a towel and started to wipe your thighs and clean the cum off the bed sheets. “I think I was quick enough,” he murmured.

Once he was certain he’d gotten it all, he helped you back into your panties and shorts, pulling the blankets back over the two of you as you settled against the mattress, him beside you. “Y/N?” you heard him ask softly and opened your eyes, rolling back to look at him. “Hmm?” you replied.

Hyunjin turned his head to look at you. “Can I hold you?”

Your heart skipped a beat and you nodded, turning back over as Hyunjin scooted into position behind you, one arm snaking under your head beneath the pillow and the other going around your waist. You felt his chest press against your back and felt a warmth envelop you.

The two of you were silent for a moment before Hyunjin spoke. “I miss you,” he muttered into your hair, almost too quiet for you to hear but you did hear it. “Hyunjin,” you started but he tightened his arm around your waist. “Please, let me finish,” he begged. You fell silent and nodded.

“I miss you so much, Y/N. Ever since that last day in the apartment. The day I came to get my stuff. I had the opportunity to tell you how much I loved you. And I messed up,” he fell silent and you waited, hearing him swallow the lump in his throat.

“I messed up so bad, baby. I know that. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve done. I loved you so much that not being with you nearly killed me. I stopped leaving my apartment, I stopped going to work, I stopped eating. The only thing that numbed the pain was drinking and it only worked for so long.”

Your breath caught as you listened to Hyunjin. “Please believe when I say that I’m not blaming you. Everything that happened to me was my own fault. I guess I just didn’t want to live without you. When I lost my job and then my apartment and was back on my friend’s couch, it finally hit me that I couldn’t wallow in my misery. I had to go on. You had told me to live a good life and I wasn’t doing that. So I sought help,” he continued.

“I got clean, found a better job, moved into my own place, and started living that life you told me to live. Because you told me to live a good life, I got to meet you again.” You blinked away tears as Hyunjin spoke, not wanting to give into the emotions you’d been trying to suppress.

“The universe brought us together again and I feel like it was for a reason,” he continued to speak softly. “I believe in second chances. I know you do, too. I want us to try again. We’re not the same people we were eight years ago,” he hesitated and you took this as a moment for you to speak.

“I don’t know what to say, Hyunjin,” you whispered. “This is a lot of information to throw at me at once.”

Hyunjin nodded, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “I know,” he murmured. “But I loved you, Y/N. I still love you. I regret everyday I didn’t spend reminding you of that.” You took a deep breath and turned over to look up at him. “Can we talk about this another time?” you asked, blinking away the burning in the corners of your eyes. Hyunjin moved his hand to cup your cheek and nodded.

“Of course,” he replied. “Whatever you want.” Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. He pulled back and you turned back to face forward as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you snug against him.

You closed your eyes and sighed, hoping sleep would come sooner rather than later.

The next morning Hyunjin awoke to find light filtering into the bedroom. He groggily opened his eyes and looked around the room. Your side of the bed was empty and he sat up, checking the time on his watch. He dressed in silence. He headed down the stairs, looking for any sign of life.

Upon entering the kitchen he found Edith sitting at the table with a mug of coffee. She looked up and smiled as Hyunjin looked around. “There’s breakfast in the microwave for you,” she said, getting up and walking over to open the door on the appliance, pulling out a plate and guiding him to sit at the table.

Hyunjin’s heart started to pound as he looked around but saw no sight of you anywhere. “Where’s Y/N?” he asked, looking up at Edith who patted him on the back, gesturing for him to eat. “She caught a cab early this morning,” Edith said softly. “Said she had important business to attend to.”

Hyunjin’s stomach sank. ‘You left? After last night? After everything? You just…left?’ He looked down at the plate, the corners of his eyes burning, Blinking the urge to cry away he composed himself and looked up. “Where’s Lawrence?” he asked suddenly. “Oh, he went to dig your car out of the snow! A neighbor came to help him pull the car out of the ditch but they needed to dig it out first.”

Hyunjin nodded wordlessly and ate in silence while Edith read something on her tablet.

Once he was finished, Edith took his plate and started rinsing it off. As she was putting it in the dishwasher, the front door opened and moments later, Lawrence appeared, dressed in a thick winter coat, coveralls, and boots.

He had a black wool hat jammed onto his head and smiled at Hyunjin as he pulled his mask down.

“Good news!” he said excitedly. Hyunjin perked up immediately, the irrational side of his brain hoping you had returned. Instead he was greeted with news that his car was now dug out and waiting in the driveway for him. Hyunjin forced a smile, thanking Lawrence.

“And they’ve been by to clear the roads,” Edith added, turning to Hyunjin with a smile. Hyunjin thanked them both and headed up to gather his things. As he moved around the room, he noticed the towel he’d used the night prior to clean up the mess you’d both made in the bed.

Hyunjin grimaced and decided to pull the sheets and tuck them up in a wad to carry down to put in the wash himself so he didn’t have to explain to Edith what it was staining her nice floral sheets. Once he was certain he had all his things, Hyunjin headed downstairs, dropping his bag by the front door before walking into the living room where Lawrence was warming up by the fire and Edith working on some form of needle work, possibly crochet, Hyunjin wasn’t sure.

She looked up as he walked over. “I wanted to get these in the laundry for you,” Hyunjin explained. “Oh that’s okay, dear,” she said as she set her work aside and got up. “I can do it,” she added, reaching for the bundle. Hyunjin internally cringed and pulled back slightly. “It’s okay. I’ve already got it in my hands. Just point me in the right direction,” he replied.

Edith gave him a knowing smile and pointed to the laundry room off the kitchen. Hyunjin thanked her and moved to open the door, opening the washing machine and dumping the sheets and blankets and towel into the drum. He added some soap and fabric softener before setting the timer and starting the machine.

Back in the living room, he found Edith back in her spot and Lawrence now sitting in his armchair with a newspaper. Hyunjin cleared his throat, catching both their attention and they looked up at him.

“Well,” he started awkwardly. “I think I’ll head out,” he continued. “We’ll walk you out,” Lawrence said, setting his newspaper aside and getting to his feet as Edith set her project aside and got up as well. Hyunjin walked towards the door with the couple following. He pulled on his coat, wrapping his scarf around his neck before tugging his beanie on.

“Walk him to his car,” Edith whispered, lightly hitting her husband’s chest. He moved to get his coat but Hyunjin stopped him. “Really, it’s okay,” Hyunjin reassured them. “You’ve done so much for Y/N and I.” Hyunjin pulled on his shoes and grabbed his bag.

“You’ve gone above and beyond what anyone else would do,” he continued. “Even though Y/N isn’t here to thank you, I’m thanking you for her.”

Edith smiled at him. “She already thanked us,” she explained. “Oh, she left a note!” she added when she noticed the confused expression on Hyunjin’s face and moved into the kitchen before returning with a paper note and handing it to Hyunjin. He read the writing on the sheet which he recognized as yours.

‘So she left a note,’ he told himself, forcing a smile as he handed it back. “That was nice of her,” he said shortly. Edith smiled, producing an envelope. “She also left this and asked me to give it to you,” she added, holding out the envelope. Hyunjin took it curiously and thanked her.

“Drive carefully!” Edith said as Hyunjin opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, his bag slung over his shoulder. “And no more driving into ditches,” Lawrence joked. Hyunjin laughed and nodded. “I’ll do my best. Thank you so much for everything,” Hyunjin said again and with a wave, he carefully made his way down the steps and started the trek back towards the road.

He was halfway down the driveway when his black sedan came into view and he smiled, picking up the pace as he hurried to his car. He unlocked the door and after tugging a couple times, managed to break the ice and pull the door open. He got in, kicking the snow off his shoes and dumping his bag onto the front seat. He shut the door and looked around.

Everything seemed in order. He said a little prayer before turning the engine over and the car surprisingly roared to life, Hyunjin cheering with an excited laugh. He immediately turned the dials and got the defroster and heater working. He pulled his hat off and threw it into the passenger seat. As he shed more layers, he caught sight of the envelope and stared at it for a few moments.

What could you have possibly needed to say that you could haven’t waited to tell him?

Hyunjin fought with himself on whether or not to read it, going back and forth until he finally grabbed the letter with a groan and opened it. At least he’d have something to do while he waited for his car to warm up. He pulled the letter out and unfolded it, eyes scanning the sheet before him.

Hyunjin, I’m sorry for leaving like this. I know it’s wrong and makes it seem like I’m running from my problems and maybe I am but I can’t give you an answer. I know it’s not what you want to hear but I’m just not sure. I’m not sure of anything anymore. I thought I was okay and that I was over you but seeing you at the party and then getting stranded and having to share a bed and then what happened last night. It feels like things happened so fast and I didn’t have time to catch up. I couldn’t process it all in a few hours. I need more time. I need to think about everything you said and what’s going on in my own mind. There’s a lot for both of us to think about although you made it pretty clear where your mind is last night. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still feel something for you because I do. I do feel something for you and it scares me. I didn’t want to make a decision in the heat of the moment and come to regret it so instead I’m going to take some time to think. I also want to thank you. For offering to give me a ride home, even if we did get stranded. It wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. And thank you for opening up to me and being honest with me. I’ve seen a much different side of you. One that reminds me of the man you were when we first met. I don’t want to use up all of Edith’s letter paper so I’ll end with this: Don’t hesitate to reach out and when I’m ready, I’ll contact you. xxx-xxx-xxxx

Hyunjin’s vision blurred and he hastily wiped the tears from his eyes, a small smile gracing his lips.

For the first time since the car slid off the road the other night, he felt something he hadn’t felt in years.

He felt hopeful.

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