Seokjin.

I feel dazed, stunned, my head clogged up by so many thoughts, yet empty at the same time. I am weak and spent, still slightly trembling with occasional pulses of pleasure that travel through me. I haven't felt anything like that in forever, haven't orgasmed or felt anything of that magnitude in a while. It was shattering, tremendous, it felt so incredibly good, real. I felt so full, so stimulated. He had me on the palm of his hands, literally too; had me releasing in his hold while he continued reigning war on my spot.

I think I saw stars, perhaps blacked out for a few seconds too. Magical, and breathtaking, is what it was, and it's stuck in my brain, not only the memory but the feeling of having him in me, thoughts of him sweetly ramming into me, and it somehow only makes me instable, makes me feel empty without him.

Distantly, I hear his footsteps once more, approaching from wherever he had disappeared too, and I try to open my heavy eyes lids to finally comprehend my surrounding, but my vision is still blurred with tears, my breath still short and uneven, limbs still weak.

I feel his presence as he leans over me, feel his breath fanning my face as he strokes my cheek lovingly. There is always a comfortable silence in his presence, an aura of care around him whenever he's around, so gently I lean into his touch, a ghost of a smile hovering over my lips as he rubs his thumb over them.

"Are you alright?" He questions lowly, and I manage a nod, barely really, eyes finally meeting his. He doesn't show much as he stands to his feet, still stark naked and still incredibly hard. Strong arms lift me up, and eagerly I leap onto him, hands and legs wrapping tightly around him as he effortlessly holds me to his frame.

My naked skin tingles against his, the reminder of his touch waking me from my stupor. I bury my head in his neck breathing in his musk of sweat and cologne, the scent calming, but oddly provoking in the same. It makes me awaken, but in turn arouses other things that in me too. I can't get enough, enough of him in every form, which makes me wonder how I have even been living without him, without his touch and kisses...

He treads down the hall with me in his arms, down to the last door where I hear the shower running. I finally find the energy to look up, just in time for him to slide open the glass door and angle us under the spray. "Nnngh." I can't help moan out in relief as the warm water cascades down my back, down every crevice of my body, making me hotter than I am already.

I look to Namjoon to find him watching me intently, dark orbs gazing all over my face, and neck that he has littered in hickeys. There is still that untamed nature to his eyes, this wildness and chaos that resonates within his orbs that I haven't ever seen before.

His eyes narrow in the slightest, forehead creasing over in a bit of stress, and I think of the relief he's yet to have. He pleasured me all this while, took me to heaven and back and yet still hasn't had his own release. That doesn't sit right with me, especially when I think of how good and burden free I felt. I'd give anything to make him feel even half of what I did.

I carefully climb to my feet, standing face to face with him under the spray. I don't have to look down to know he is still erect, he's been sweetly twitching between us, and I make to get on my knees, to finish him off with my mouth, honestly dying for a taste of him, but he grabs my arm, pressing me to him instead.

"Let me. You haven't yet. Let me help." I rumble on under the sound of the water, wanting him to feel just as good as I did. His lips part like he's going to say something, the water drenching off his face, rushing down his pretty lips, down his chin then to his torso, before it runs down his thighs and it's hard cock. Fuck he looks hot.

He holds the back of my neck, before pressing his lips onto mine, tongue immediately seeking entrance. I allow him, turning into putty in his arms as his tongue duels with mine, licking every inch of my mouth. He pulls back, biting my lower lips, eyes free and feral.

I don't anticipate the force, or the swiftness that he turns me around with, gasping as he presses my back onto him. I feel every part of him, and I whimper as he patches his big hands on my waist, teeth grazing on my ear lobe.

"We are not done yet. Will you take me one more time?" He asks sensually in my ear, his rock hard length gliding over the crack of my butt. If he wants me one more time, or a hundred more times, he's got it, as long as it will give him pleasure, I'll do it, which is why I don't hesitate before I answer him, breath even heavier with the water rushing down my face.

"I will. Anything." It's almost desperate, but I could careless of what I sound like right now. I just want him to feel good, and if he's gonna make me feel the same in the process too, then fuck yes, he could have anything he wants. I allow him to push me forward in the compartment, so that I am few inches from the wall, palms already seeking refuge as he lightly bends me over, my ass out to him.

The thought alone makes me shiver, makes me tremble with what I know is to come. I can almost imagine him in me again, and I mewl as he leaves feathery kisses on my shoulder blades, his other hand that isn't holding my waist, groping and kneading my ass cheeks.

"You've gotten fleshier, rounder. I can't get over it." He praises, and oddly out everything we've done tonight, I blush the hardest at that. The thought of my ass having gotten fatter. 

His kisses get rougher, and so does his grip on me, the fingers kneading my ass traveling lower to part at my crack. He nudges my flesh away, water droplets following the movement of fingers to my sensitive heat, the same one he runs his digits over, teasing.

I whine lowly in my throat, pushing back on his fingers desperate for him, my own length rising to the occasion once more. He seems to realize my neediness, tilting back my head to demand my lips. He kisses me hard, pressing me to him as he guides his length into me once more.

My lips part on his as a breathless cry leaves my mouth, his lust crazed eyes gazing intently into my hooded ones as he fully pushes himself into me, until his balls press to my ass. "Fuck, your beautiful." He lets out at the fucked expression on my face, lewdly licking my lips with his tongue.

There is little to no discomfort this time round, his length easily gliding into me with almost no resistance. I shiver, toes curling on the floor at contact, the breach of his bare skin on mine. It feels amazing, wonderful how he scrapes every inch of my walls, resting right at my spot.

"Nnngh...joon-ah." I cry out, clenching around him, my head falling back on his shoulder. He groans, his grip on my waist tightening as leans to sensually bite on my neck, my jaw and ear. "Fucking tight. How?" He growls out in question, breath heavy as he slowly drags out then drives back in me again.

He immediately applies pressure on my spot, almost like he knows where it is, out of memory perhaps, before picking up his assault from the previous round, the sound of his balls hitting on my ass resonating in the clouds of moans and groans in the bathroom.

"Ah, ah, r-right there. There..." I beg him, the arch of my back increasing as he fucks me right where I want him to. The hot water pours down on us, the squelching sounds of where we join even more arousing as he keeps up. Fuck, I've missed his cock, missed him doing this to me, this finely and nicely. He knows every  corner, knows everything that I want and how I want it. Nobody else could ever dick me down like he does, nobody has a dick like his even...

"Gorgeous. Your fucking gorgeous, your gonna make me cum." He rasps on my ear, moving me back on his cock with every thrust, the hand that isn't holding on me taking a hold of my length. I cry out, sensitive, but wanting him in the same. My nails scrape on the tiles, and I turn my head to demand his lips, desperate for a taste of him.

I don't need to beg, don't need to say anything really, as he captures my lips, brutal strokes matching the movement of his hand on my dick. "Aarrgh, don't stop." My eyes roll back as I pull from the kiss, mouth spilling with moans and broken different versions of his name as I edge close to my release. I feel him lodged in my stomach, his pounding brewing a heavy but perfect storm of pleasure in me.

His own breathing gets laboured, grip tight and curses deep as I clench around him. Somehow he gets even bigger in me, his cock teetering my walls as he issues each brutal stroke in my spot. It hurts so good, so sweetly, and I still in his hold, eyes rolling back a second as I feel it coming. "Cum, cum for me." He orders behind me, and I let go at his command, thighs shaking as I spill over in the wall in front of  me. "Fuuuuck." He drawls out while I tremble in his hold, his own length spraying every corner of my walls, tonnes of his seeds filling me up. "Fuck fuck fuck." He moans on, his strokes slowing down as he finally has his release.

He has to hold me up as my legs threaten to buck under my second orgasm, his hands tight around my waist, his warm cum trailing down my thighs as he softens in me, pulling out. The water eventually turns cold, but I am too hot to care, to dazed and satiated to give mind about anything else.

I lean into his hold in the silence, my ragged breathing matching his as we try to calm down. There is a type of relief that settles within me, a weird type of redress at takes over my senses, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, like I can finally breath and feel again. It's like my mind is finally clear, somehow free, and a part of me wonders why that is.

Admittedly, this was the distraction, and it was duly needed to relieve us of our stress, our worries and problems, and truly the sex did it's part. The intenseness and passion of it made me forget, made me feel different other things that I haven't felt in forever, but then again this settles deeper, it's like I just came to terms with everything, or something of the sort.

Namjoon works his way around our bodies, gently and carefully cleaning every part of me. His fingers tips silently glide on every inch, soothing and lulling me to rest, but as much as I would like to, I know I wouldn't, I wouldn't be able fall a sleep with what we are yet to address. He seems to knows so too, and presses a light kiss at the back of my neck before turning off the shower.

He gets hold of the towels, and he wipes me dry, putting me in a robe after, before toweling off and tying one around his waist too. No words need to be said as I lead out of the compartment, itching to look at him, but scared in the same to find out. We've just had sex, and I can't deny that I liked it, that I don't regret it, but I can't say the same for him. He looked raged before, angry, and most of this for him might have been to shoo away thoughts of Soojin and what he did to us, and perhaps he might have come to his senses now, he might have realized we just crossed the line....

He is stood in the middle of my room when I walk back from the closet, still in his skimpy towel, eyes trained on me. Like always, so compelling, searching, but no traces of anything else other than curiosity.

"Are you alright?" He asks, and I can't help notice the difference in his tone from before. He's tender now, albeit a little coarse from his groaning earlier.

"Are you?" I can't help ask back, meeting his gaze that gradually falls. He worries about me but there is a lot going on for him as well. He might try to mask it with this, put on a front for me, but it doesn't hide anything for him, at least not from me.

Seeing Soojin today was a lot, and as much we would like to put measures in place to deal with her if the need ever arose in the future, she still managed to affect us today. To play with our emotions. Seeing her made us reminisce, relive all of the painful memories, all the he tough days, I know I have a hard time coming to terms to with it, what more for him?

He looks at his hands for a second, hopelessness taking over him, his frame slumping as he deflates from his earlier energy. It makes my heart constrict, hurt at the thought of him suffering, of him bottling it up for the sake of being strong for me. More than anyone he should be free around me, I've seen every piece of him, he knows he doesn't have to pretend with me.

I put away the pajamas I had picked earlier on the bed, slowly approaching his bubble. "It's ok to be scared about all this." It's generally the dynamic surrounding everything, most of what I have deduced from him tonight. Underneath the anger and rage associated with Soojin and what she did to him, there is just fear, he's scared of going through it again, I understand it, and I wish I could do more than comfort him, perhaps tell him otherwise, but I can't, he's right to fear....

He looks up at me finally, bare chest heaving up in a breath. His eyes narrow as he looks at me, and he shakes his head lightly, almost in disbelief, blinking back. "What games are we playing with the universe, Jin-ah?" He questions, sounding exhausted, and I know too well what he's talking about.

It's almost like it's going on repeat, like it's happening again, and we are left to wonder what exactly the universe is planning for us. After everything we went through, after all the torture we suffered in Soojin's hands, then this?

We were brutally and mercilessly forced from each other, torn apart with selfish reasons from people we wanted nothing to do with. Taehyung almost died, and I had to keep my son a secret from his father, all for the pain and hate that I harboured wrongly for the man I love. He went through torture, and so did my son, I suffered for years, mental restraint, trying to keep myself from anything to do with Namjoon, out of love and respect for another man who  I thought loved me too, but was busy spewing betrayal behind my back, with my best friend.

I lost a mother, I lost a lover, lost my best friends and friends, and just when I thought we were finally getting our footing, just when everything seemed to be going back to even being slightly normal, Soojin shows up. Perhaps she hasn't done anything, and most probably won't try to mess with us now, but one can't possibly help themselves from thinking of what could happen, and from feeling a type of familiar fear and despair. Desperation that comes with fright: we are not playing these games, they are playing us, we are their puppets, and for the longest times we've danced to their tunes, we've allowed ourselves to suffer under others, and for the sake of others.

I refuse to anymore, and Namjoon should too.

Stepping fully in front of him, I find myself cupping his face, fingers on each side of his smooth cheeks, delicately holding him to me. "What games is the universe playing with us?" I pose back the question, and it's clear he hadn't thought about it like that. All we've done is blame ourselves, reel in guilt, and of course fear the danger that is befalling us.

"Your all I have and our son, and I refuse to play any further this twisted game. I refuse to participate in this charades of our lives that only hurts us. I refuse to live like this." I keep it determined, eyes locking into his to show my seriousness. Soojin might be back but I don't give a fuck, I don't fucking care what she wants, or what she might be up to, or anyone else for that matter. I am no longer that naive and stupid, and I am not going to let anyone trample over us anymore.

A lot has happened today, and perhaps I should be wary, but oddly what today has made me realize is what I have and what I could lose. I have both him and Jeonghan, and I love them both with whole of my heart. That's right, I love Namjoon with everything in me, always have, always will. We've been through hell and back, and I don't want to give him up again, don't want to be away from him anymore, not only because I love him and want him, but also because it would mean Soojin won at the end of it, it would mean she successfully ripped me from this man, and I don't think that's sits too well with me.

I realized today that I am sure of what I want in this life. I've been denied the chance so many times to choose, and finally I have it, and I gladly know what to do with it. It doesn't matter to me if it's early or soon, if it's impulsive or rush, or if Soojin is always out there and will try to hurt us or whatever, I fucking want the love of my life, I want my man, my son's father, and my son. I want a family with them, a happy ending with them.

So gently I bring Namjoon's face to closer, pressing his lips to mine in a kiss. It's tender, the first soft kiss I've had with him tonight, deep and passionate, but still slow and reassured. He lets me control it, fingers relaxed on either side of his face as I press us together. There is no rush in this, no hunger or anger, no rage or concealed emotions. This is free, it's pure with need and love, and I make sure to tell him as I mold my lips with his, his taste mingling with mine. This true, this is enough, this is the man I love.

I pull away, keeping his forehead to mine, breathing his scent, eyes watering temporarily at this feeling of freedom, redemption, relief. "I love you." I find myself spilling, not able to hold it in any second longer. I've wanted to say that for the longest time, and I feel liberated to finally do so. I pull back to look at him, not surprised at the glossiness in his eyes. He is surprised, but seemingly confused as well. I don't need an answer, don't need anything else other than for him to know that I love him.

He looks at me, deeply, like he's searching again, but there is just as much hesitancy in him. I wasn't expecting anything in return, I am not getting ahead of myself with my confession. I know this was merely anything to fix us. I might have finally made resolve, finally chosen a path with what I want, but it might not be the same for him. He might not want me anymore, might not want what we had after everything that has happened before, and I completely understand it. He might want to stay as Jeonghan's father, co parent, perhaps be my friend at most, and I think I am at a place that I can accept that that's ok. He has every right to choose his own path after everything that he's gone through himself.

His mouth opens and closes in silent words for a few seconds, a tear running down his cheek, and I don't hesitate as I kiss his cheeks, his eye lids, his nose, his forehead, generally peppering him in kisses. I don't want him to suffer anymore, not for anything. He doesn't have to give me an answer now, or ever for that matter, as long as he's happy, I am happy as well.

Smiling at him, I search his lips for a kiss one more time. It might be the last time we are like this, the last time I'll ever get to kiss him, so I deeply engraved the taste in my memory, holding my breath as I suck his lower lip into mine. This might be the last time we'll ever be this close for that matter, and if it is, I just want to make sure I remember it, and that he does too as well. I want to make a memory out of it, make it special, so equally I mark every piece of him.

I kiss his bared neck, taking in deep long whiffs of his scent, mixed with his body scent, before my hands trace over on his equally bare chest, fingers gliding over every secret part of him that I know out of memory. He lets me, hands over my waist on my robe, bringing me closer, never once breaking the kiss. I caress over his pecs, over his smooth skin and swollen nipples, down his washboard abs, his muscular sides, his ghost of a scar that still lies on his left side. The everyday reminder that he took a knife for me, to save my life.

No words are said as I undo his towel,  all of it already silently spoken between us, between these powerful passionate kisses that we share. The fabric falls to the floor, and my fingers follow suit, gliding over his firm hipbones, his present v lines, and the beautiful ink of a flower he still has on his thigh. It's his constant reminder to fight, and a part of hopes he's doing so. He's endured so much, persevered  through enough, and fought so many fights, but I oddly hope he's fighting this one last time, for this one at least.

I caress over his pelvis, just a bit over his manhood, marveled and still impressed at the growth and size of him. He's beautiful, the whole of him, and I let him know as I slowly love every inch of him, just like he did me earlier.

No words need to be said as my rob comes off, then every other barrier, before we lay out on the king size furniture before us, plush mattress underneath, and light sheets between as we make love.

My hands join with his over my head, lips merged and eyes trained in each other as we rock back and forth. He splays over me, his body taking mine while my legs wrap tightly around him, edging him on with his slow and rhythmic thrusting. It's just me and him, him and I, while we make love into the silence of the night, right into the break of dawn.

My lips are filled with his name, confessions of my undying love for him, which I don't regret despite the lack of answer. I see it in his eyes, see what's hindering him; the fear, the concern, hesitancy, doubt, and I understand. He's still scared, he's skeptical about taking this on only to end up ruined once more and I understand that. I know it in my heart that he loves me, he's always had, will always love me.

Which is why I am not too alarmed when I wake up in the morning to find him gone, just vanished, again...at least this time I know why he left.