angel

the candle, now dripping into a puddle of wax pooled onto the floor, seeped through your dainty fingers clasped around it. the room felt even colder with the flame no longer lit, now completely dark aside from the moonlight illuminating the fortress’s stone brick walls through the balcony, alongside the light trickling through under the door where your parents were. they tossed you in this room to collect yourself during your “episodes”, though refused to look into it. god forbid your family was known as anything other than perfect. after all, word spreads quickly throughout the town.

you felt it before you saw it. before you saw him.

tall, slender, and winged. otherworldly. he slowly turned around to face you, the only thing visible being his fangs, displayed in a wide grin. anyone else would cower away in fear or disgust, but all you felt was utter relief. your cries were finally answered. oh, he was just perfect. perfect to fix and fill you up in each and every way you desired.

he took one step towards you and into the light, almost stealing your breath with his sheer beauty alone. he looked like a wet dream, forcing you to pinch yourself to ensure this was reality.

“you need to be cautious with your cries of invitation,” he warns, voice low and sultry. “you don’t know who… or what will accept.” his tilts his head, as if taunting you.

then suddenly, he’s on you, the pressure heavy on your chest as your body is pushed back onto the cold tiles. winded, you look up to be met with nothing, your breath hitching in betrayal. “no! come back!” you pleaded, until you felt sharp nails snaking under your forearms from behind, yanking you backwards. you let out a shriek, the fear and excitement you felt intertwining into something so intense you could cry—and you did. once your back met the wall, he was in front of you again, kneeling at your eye level.

“crying already? i haven’t even started.” he coos condescendingly, large thumb reaching out to trace the tear track on your cheek. his touch confirmed that this was happening. you whined when he dragged his thumb down to tug at your lower lip, still swollen and tender from the chewing you did earlier in your stressed state.

his lips are then on yours, cold, yet, invitingly soft as his fingers dug into the fabric of your thin nightgown, pulling you impossibly closer. he tasted like sin, but you couldn’t will yourself to pull away, desperate to feed your ravenous body. you were practically starved of touch and he could tell from just how wrecked for him you already were—but yuta loved to push, and push until you were beyond your breaking point.

that’s why when you opened your eyes, he was gone again, your lips quivering as they were left tonguing at the air. he was cruelty embodied despite being a man who looked akin to an angel. the last thing you processed was a sinister snicker and the shadowed silhouette of him on the balcony before you passed out.

you wake up the next morning in your bed, not even remembering how you got there. after sitting up, disoriented, you look straight ahead to see fresh red liquid running down your vanity mirror reading “BEG”.

every night since was spent kneeing on that same stone tile, devoting yourself to his sadistic game, hoping that he’d have enough grace to finish what he had started.

A light tug on your hand brought you back into the present, graced with a toothy grin from your boyfriend who was now carefully pulling you towards some food stalls he spotted, ever the gentle giant. You gingerly follow along, falling into step with him as he stops right in front of a booth selling an assortment of pie slices–his favorite dessert. “___-ah, we have to get these! I saw them all over reels and Doyoung hyung told me he loved them too.” he exclaimed, clearly eager and displaying his foodie side. “You were going to get these whether or not they were recommended to you, babe.” you joke, to which he responds to with a bashful laugh. “You know me too well. Just pick anything you want,” he moves behind you to give you a back hug. “My treat.” 

“Someone’s feeling the Christmas spirit.” you tease. His brows furrow in mock offence, squeezing you a bit tighter. “You’re saying that as if I don’t spoil you constantly out of the love in my heart.” he pouts. “Then why are you giving me the broke boyfriend hug right now?” you retort, both of your laughter cut short by the loud sound of bells jingling nearby. The two of you meet each other’s gazes before turning around, spotting a line forming as people wait to take photos with Santa in his Winter Wonderland. Jungwoo unwraps his arms from around you and starts ushering you towards the line. “We need to get a photo! Wait in line and by the time you’re at the front, I’ll be done here.” he points behind him to the booth. You give him a thumbs up as you secure your spot in line, equally wanting to document this date. “Okay, just get me a slice of blueberry!” you remind him of your preference. “Already planned on it.” he smirks and retreats. 

As you’re patiently waiting, you notice the first snow of the season starting to fall. Everyone around you murmurs with shared exclamations of joy. After a few short minutes, you feel a tap on your shoulder and Jungwoo appears with a bag hanging from his wrist, hands shoved into his coat pockets. “It’s snowing!” he grins. “I know, it’s beautiful.” you agree. “Speaking of beautiful,” he pauses, fishing his phone out with his free hand, showing his lockscreen to you. On it was a picture he took of your side profile looking up at the sky, a small grin on your face as you admire the fresh snowfall, clearly taken just moments ago. “Couldn’t resist.” he puts the phone away, looking at you sincerely. 

You pull him in for a gentle kiss, lips slotting between each other’s, full of love. “You’re so sweet, Jungwoo-ah,” you coo as you lick your lips, eyes widening for a second. “Why do you taste like blueberries?” you interrogate. He pretends to be distracted, looking in every other direction. “I don’t know what you’re talking about… Hey, it’s our turn!.” he exclaims as the two of you are led over by staff to where the Santa impersonator is seated. “Saved by the sleighbell.” you mumble under your breath, earning a snicker from Jungwoo.

“Santa,” you start. “My boyfriend deserves coal this year. He ate a bite of my pie thinking I wouldn’t notice.” you snitch, earning a shocked sound from Jungwoo. “Wow, that’s low.” he complains. The Santa, clearly too tired to entertain you two just forces a chuckle, signalling you both towards the camera. Jungwoo slots himself behind you again as you stand next to Santa, making puppy ears on the sides of your head with his hands as you both smile for the photo.  

The two of you thank him and walk off to retrieve your physical copies of the photo. You hold it out, admiring Jungwoo’s features. “You’re lucky you have pretty privilege. I forgive you for the pie debacle.” you state, only for him to fold his arms. “Well, I don’t forgive you for snitching on me to Santa Claus,” he huffs. “The only way I will is if you let me have another bite of your pie.”

“Let me guess, you bought the key lime flavor and you hate it.” you say matter-of-factly. He pouts further. “Taeyong hyung was right, it isn’t my style.” You pinch his cheek, prompting him to unleash the smile he was unable to hide anymore. “I’m fine with sharing.” you take his hand, squeezing it slightly. He squeezes it back. 

“Or we could go back and buy another piece.” he suggests. 

“I swear, we are actually soulmates.”

you almost rolled your eyes, smiling in relief when you turn back to see your drink placed in front of you. the bartender was stealthy, not even making a sound when he returned with your drink. you take the first sip, the frothy concoction sliding down your throat as your finger tips drum along on the bartop to the current instrumental—hannah william’s “late nights and heartbreak”. looks like some rebels were straying from the lovestruck theme tonight. it was one of your favorite songs, but luckily for you, the singer seemed too be one too many drinks in and had mastered imperfect pitch.

burning. you felt it on the back of the head, turning around to catch a handsome young man’s eyes now boring into yours. caught off guard, you quickly turn away. he wasn’t there when you first looked around. maybe he was in the restroom or— gone. you look back once more to see him no longer sitting at his table, the candlestick atop it now releasing small fumes of smoke from being recently put out. why is everyone so sneaky here? you wondered. you look up to see the bartender now chatting with the man, eyes still focused on you despite him being deep in conversation.

you furrow your brows slightly, feeling slightly turned off from the interaction. were they talking about you? picking up your glass, you busy yourself with finishing it. being too nosey, you look up once more to see the man had disappeared yet again, the bartender standing there alone, only now pocketing some bills. you sigh, the inner turmoil you felt from the earlier exchange messing with you. you weren’t usually like this, often basking in any attention, but tonight you were tired and not in the mood for any mind games. beckoning the bartender over, you start to take our your card when he shakes his head. “it’s paid for, miss.” he smiles, dimples on display, likely amused by the look of confusion on your face. “by who?”

the bartender points over towards the stage behind you, and you turn to be met with him. the man that’s practically had your attention the moment you felt the weight of his stare. as if on cue, the soft, familiar cords of chet baker’s “time after time” begin filling the air. he stands there at the mic stand, holding its stem with one hand, the other in the pocket of his dark slacks. aside from his looks blowing you away, his voice really took the cake. breathy, melodious and oh, so captivating. you wish you had his voice captured on records of him covering your favorite songs to listen to at home on repeat.

the bartender let’s out a small laugh, seeing the astonishment on your face. “his name’s donghyuck. he’s a local, frequents the bar. good guy. great voice…and single. never seen him in here with anyone.” he smirks, walking away after giving you the rundown as if it was nothing. what a great wingman. you held donghyuck’s gaze as he practically serenades you from the stage. everyone’s watching him but his only focus is, was you.

after his performance he casually strides up to the bar, taking a seat one stool down from you, downing a glass of what you presumed to be whiskey in one swift motion that the bartender had strategically left for him—as if a routine. donghyuck’s gaze met yours once again.

“you keep looking at me.” he says, voice raspy, almost taunting. vindictive. “i’m sorry?,” you question, utterly surprised. “pretty sure it’s the other way around.” you protest, sounding more accusing than you intended. he only smirks, still holding onto his empty glass. “just messing with you,” he smiles, less playful and more genuine. “what’s your name?”

he nods when you tell him, holding up two fingers to the bartender, signalling for another round of drinks as he gets up to switch to the stool beside you. “you probably can already tell, given how much i’ve been caught lacking, but you really are such a sight for sore eyes.” he compliments, leaving you smiling into your second martini of the night, laughing his attempt at humour off. the two of you continue your conversation, the endless banter reeling you in with the mix of alcohol in your system, not to mention his attractiveness on top of all that.

“you’re a really talented singer. you should seriously consider going professional, donghyuck.” you insist, hand resting on his forearm as if to show how serious you are. “can i be honest with you for a second? it might get a bit cheesy, just warning you.” he questions, breaking eye contact as you nod enthusiastically. “i’ve always wanted to get into music, but if i did, i wanted to make sure i’d be the one writing my own songs. like, everything would come directly from myself and my lived experiences, but i just,” he pauses. “i’ve never really had that inspiration, until tonight.” he finally looks back up at you, appearing more vulnerable.

“i’m not even trying to weird you out or love bomb you, i swear, but seeing you—your face, your demeanour, it just sparked life into me. did you see how fast i got up onto that stage?” he asks, as you nod, feeling flattered and slightly bashful, as if you were the one confessing something so significant to a near stranger. your active listening urged him to continue. “you know, jaehyun doesn’t even let me go up on stage on busy nights like this,” he points over his shoulder to the familiar dimpled bartender. “he says no one ever wants to sing after me because i set the standard too high! i had to practically beg him to let me on.” he boasts earnestly, the two of you laughing over the shared sentiment.

“so, what, i’m like your muse now?” you tease, genuine curiosity laced in your voice. “i guess so,” he smiles, extending a hand. “you got stage freight?” he asks almost out of the blue. “i usually do, but i think i got enough liquid courage in my system tonight. are you about to ask me to sing a duet with you?” you grin, letting his larger hand take yours as he stands, gently pulling you up. “you read my mind.”

you locked yourself in your room after returning from the library, shaky hands carrying the cassette tape home with you. who would’ve thought needing to find an old local news piece to write a report on would end up being confirmation for the one thing you were dreading. you recognized him instantly in the black and white footage, standing not too far from the podium in front of the town hall; his sharp cheekbones, pouty lips, and tall frame all being hard to miss. 

you wanted to scream. you couldn’t tell anyone about this and that knowledge was getting to you. not only would they think you were a nut job, but jaehyun could potentially get hurt if the wrong person found out–you honestly couldn’t decide whether that was a good or bad thing. tossing yourself onto your bed, you curled up, hugging your pillow to your chest in an attempt to comfort yourself. if he wanted to hurt me, wouldn’t he have done so by now? i mean, why would he wait this long… unless that was his plan all along. you ruled out the man on the tape being a doppelganger or a distant relative of jaehyun’s, as he wasn’t even remotely from this town. your mind was racing with endless possibilities, but all of them kept leading to one common outcome; getting the fuck away. 

dialing his number, you take a shaky breath, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come. you jump when hear his deep voice on the other end of the line, suddenly sounding so foreign. “hey, baby.. what’s goin’ on? it’s the middle of the night,” he asked, concern laced in his voice. all you could think about was how the words looked coming out of his lips. you wondered if they got covered with blood when he fed. you wondered how he’d look with his fangs out—whether it was sexy or terrifying, maybe even both. “baby? you good?” he calls out again, snapping you out of your frazzled thoughts.

“uh, yeah, sorry. didn’t mean to wake you,” if you were sleeping at all. vampires don’t even sleep! you take another deep breath, focusing on the sight of raindrops rolling down your window, illuminated by the streetlights below. “can we talk? in person?” you finally manage to get out. “talk? princess, it’s a little late to meet up, don’t you think? plus it’s pouring. can’t you just say what you need to over the phone?” his responses were irritating you more than they should, knowing what he really was, and is, actively hiding from you. “just pick me up,” you say, harsher than intended. “please.”

you heard shuffling on the other end of the phone, a zipper, and the jingle of keys followed by a mumbled, rushed form of agreement along the lines of i’ll text you when i’m outside coming through before the line cuts. great, he was equally as pissed. at least you had him wrapped around your finger enough for him to actually come through. you decided to look a little bit put together, combing out the hair you’ve been trying not to pull out, and washing your tear-stained face.

you hear his car pull up, speed walking out to his vehicle with your hood on before he could even step out. you slam the door a little too hard as you get into the passenger’s side, jaehyun looking at you almost dumbfounded. “i was about to come out with an umbrella—“ 

“we need to stop seeing each other.” you say a little too calmly, irking the both of you. jaehyun’s eyebrows furrow, his head turning to look out of the windshield. he can hear your heartbeat racing abnormally fast, almost as if you were scared. this whole ordeal was uncharacteristically you, almost as if you were forced to do this. he knew something wasn’t right. 

“what are you talking about?” he asks, finally looking over at you. “i said, we need to stop seeing each other.” you try to sound firm in your decision, but a hint of fear seeps out in your tone, hands getting shakier the longer you stare into his dark irises. “yeah, i heard you the first time, but you didn’t give me a reason why.” he argues, trying to stay levelheaded, but he was just as anxious as you were. he was starting to believe you had figured him out, but he couldn’t think of any reasons that would’ve led to it, puzzling him even further. he knew he’d been careful enough, covering his tracks when necessary. 

you hadn’t thought this far into the conversation, given you called him while in a state of panic, which you were now regretting. you were short-circuiting and you knew he could see right through you. “i know what you are.” you finally muster up the courage to admit. his face falls in a way you’d never seen before, now a blank slate, fully emotionless. “what?” is all he responds with after a moment of silence, almost unnerving. 

carefully, you pull the old tape out of your hoodie’s pocket, handing it to him. his hands were ice cold as they grazed yours. they always were, come to think of it. the signs were there. he takes one look at the cassette, reading the title and year written on the old piece of masking tape serving as a label, immediately knowing what you saw. the memory of that day was as fresh as you were to him, and the flicker of recognition on his face was evident, giving you the chills. 

he looks up at you, almost defeated. “i promise, i’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he answers calmly. too calmly. “just, let me know something first. where did you get this? did someone else give it to you?” he holds the tape up, shaking it to further enunciate his words. he wanted to make sure you were the one who came across it, and not someone who figured him out and now had a bounty on his head. you reach behind you and start grabbing at the door handle, your instincts begging you to escape this predator you’ve been hopelessly in love with. 

“no, no, come on. don’t be like this,” he tuts, a flicker of hurt passing through his otherwise cold expression. you knew he was upset. he always put up a mask as a mechanism to be taken seriously, to not let his emotions show, but you could tell it was slipping. but, then again, did you really ever know him? “you don’t have to be afraid of me, i’d never hurt you!” he tries to reason. 

“that doesn’t make me feel any safer, jae, you’re a fucking vampire!” you cry out, and he looks as if the word physically cut through him. “i can’t just accept this, i– i have to go.” you turn around, finally managing to open his car door, hurrying back inside. a part of you is surprised when he lets you, watching as you slam your front door shut, knowing he could just enter if he really wanted to. 

but, he also knew you well enough to know that you’d need some space before he even attempted to explain any more of the bizarre secret he’d been hiding from you. slamming his fists against his steering wheel, he finally pulls out of your driveway and heads back home, unable to deal with hearing the sobs coming from your bedroom–curse his vampiric abilities–any longer. he looks at the tape you left behind with distaste before tossing it into the glove department, driving off into the night. the rain only served as a reminder of your tears. 

you couldn’t sleep a wink, and you didn’t blame yourself. you had to practically drag yourself out of bed when you were met with 0 missed calls and texts from your now ex-boyfriend. you knew you practically demanded space, but a part of you was so used to seeing that good morning, baby displayed across your screen every morning. it hurt even more knowing that he was unable to sleep at all and likely just set alarms to be there for you when you were starting your day. no! you can’t empathize with a literal monster! you chastised yourself mentally, now looking between your friends donghyuck and mark, both giving you concerned looks over the café’s table. 

“so, you broke up with jaehyun just like that? out of the blue?” mark asked, wide-eyed and confused. you nodded, trying to make sense of your decision to them while obviously hiding the giant elephant in the room–the truth. “yeah, i just feel like i needed a clean slate, you know?” you lied. they nodded, faces still skeptical, both clearly not buying your story. “right,” donghyuck starts sounding unimpressed. “well, we’re here for you no matter what, especially for whenever you wanna open up about the real story.” 

“hyuck–” mark interjects, but you cut him off. “no, hyuck’s right. i’m not telling you guys everything just yet. i’m honestly still figuring everything out for myself–” your words die out on your tongue as you see jaehyun step inside. 

a/n: been a bit under the weather this week, so i've utilized this time to write and binge the vampire diaries! other than that, my summer has been super fun yet busy... uni is just around the corner as mentioned abovejdjdjdjdhdsj. hope u enjoy! think of this as a summerween post

ALSO happy belated birthday to mark omg i was hoping to get a fic out for him but unfortunately couldn't do so :( was thinking of him the whole day tho, he ate his stages up at kcon!!! ♡

Going to the beach at night was one of your favorite ways to escape. The beautiful scenery was a coping mechanism for you; a way for you to press pause on your hectic life for just a moment. The moonlight reflected onto the sea beautifully, the calm body of water softly rippling, almost making it look as if the light was dancing atop the calm waves. The palm trees that decorated the shore alongside scattered seashells and damp stones, glistening under the stars, created an atmosphere that reminded you of the beauties life could bring amongst the darkness.

The half-done-up linen shirt–too big to be yours–flowed as a rush of the warm night air grazed you. You were grateful summer allowed you to be out at this time without freezing to death, slowly peeling off the fabric, now clad in a black tank top and a pair of denim shorts. You look down at the discarded shirt in your hands, tears brimming once more as you remember him. Your boyfriend, Taeyong, was perfect. He was attentive, pure-hearted, and sweet. He was hilarious and creative, having his own way of doing things. He was yours. Was. 

A trait of Taeyong’s that you admired the most was that he always lived life the way he wanted to, unabashedly and unapologetically on his own terms. Ironically, roughly two years later, it is now the trait that is destroying your relationship. 

You break out of your slight daze when you feel a familiar hand touch your bare knee, cold–a contrast to this humid summer night. Looking up, you meet eyes with the man himself. He looked as handsome as ever, the moonlight caressing his features as beautifully as it did the water you were admiring just moments ago. His other arm was outstretched towards you, holding out a blunt he likely purchased from the dispensary you noticed on your way here. 

Funny enough, Taeyong was the first person who brought you to this beach, so it’s no surprise that he knew you were here. It was where he ended up asking you out, the two of you being blazed out of your minds, melted ice cream cones forgotten on the sand as you practically pounced on each other the moment you said yes. It was on a warm night, just like this one, except there was a lot more love in the air. Since then, this spot has become the both of yours. Our private getaway he’d call it, as this portion of the beach was partially hidden by a tall mass of land. 

You look up at him with furrowed brows, his flat expression remaining unphased. “Take it,” he shakes his hand slightly, not wanting to risk accidentally putting the blunt out with the movement. “As a peace offering.” he half jokes. He knows you hated him right now, but he also knows his ego wouldn’t let him apologize, as he believed your reasoning was futile. Scoffing at his lame attempt at easing the tension, you oblige nonetheless, almost snatching it from him and taking a few hits. As the smoke filters through your lungs, you sputter, coughing as he comfortingly rubs your back. “Been a while since you last hit one of these, huh? Last time must’ve been with Johnny.” he teases, grinning with his teeth on full display like the Cheshire cat as he plops down beside you on the sand. You were not in the mood to play as his little Alice right now, forcing the blunt back into his hand, silently hoping he’d stick it in his own mouth and shut up. 

“You know why I did that.” you say coldly, wanting him to cut the bullshit. You strongly believed he pushed you to that point that one night, almost two months ago now. Taeyong was popular at the parties the two of you would attend. I mean, just look at him–the man is gorgeous and attracts attention anywhere he goes by being his dope self. What you didn’t like, was that he recently started to bask in it. When you first started dating, he wouldn’t leave your side at any function, even bringing you along with him to the washroom and always ensuring he introduced you to all of his friends before the night ended. Nowadays, he’s been getting way too comfortable for your liking, just letting loose. 

At first you brushed it off, but it’s happened on multiple occasions. You’ve brought it up to him countless times, feeling guilty about the insecurities that his actions triggered within you, but it really gets to a point. Walking out of the kitchen to get your own drink–which he used to do for you–only to see your boyfriend dancing on tabletops with other girls, their hands all over him. It made you feel sick. He’d tell you that you were a buzzkill when you’d drag him into an unoccupied room to chastise him about his actions, tears streaming down your face. He was always just trying to have a good time and you were always overreacting according to him. 

After hearing those excuses one too many times, you decided to let loose too. It was Donghyuck’s birthday bash at his penthouse and of course, your boyfriend was off doing god knows what, being the party animal he suddenly turned into. You’ll admit, he was always the life of the party, but his nonchalance in response to your absence was the main problem. The second he left your side by the entrance, running over to some people you’ve never seen in your life, was when you put your plan into action. You’d admit now that it was somewhat petty, but you were exhausted, desperately wanting to give Taeyong a taste of his own medicine.

So, off you went to his best friends–the ones he insisted you had to meet when you were just weeks into dating. You struck up a conversation with Johnny, his only friend who was older than him, despite it only being by a few months. He was easygoing and a good friend to all, including you, which is why you felt guilty about using him as bait in a sense. Noticing Taeyong was in the outdoor portion of the penthouse accompanied by Ten, Yuta, and two other girls you didn’t know, you practically pulled Johnny outside with you, coaxing him into smoking with you. You only started smoking pot because of Taeyong. He didn’t force you into starting or anything, but you were so taken by him that you just wanted to get a glimpse into his world. Taeyong was the only person you’d smoke with, and he liked that, as he knew he could keep you safe. That’s why you believed making him watch as you smoked with someone else for the first time, his best friend out of all people, would result in some sort of reaction. 

Johnny agreed, of course, pulling out the stash he never left the house without from his jean pockets. He sat you both down on the patio set, rolling away while you practically glared holes into the back of Taeyong’s head.  Look over here! Look at me! you kept repeating in your head, as if you had powers that would magically make him do it. Three shared blunts in with Johnny and you were convinced your boyfriend forgot about your existence entirely. Your head felt fuzzier than usual, making your heart race as nausea took over you. “Hey, you okay? You don’t look–” you heard Johnny begin, just as you instinctively hunched over the arm of the chair to puke. You weren’t used to smoking this much in such a small amount of time, and the sight of your boyfriend not even acknowledging you only made your stomach churn even more. Long story short, you were mortified at your unsuccessful attempt at making your boyfriend jealous, resulting in him solely pitying you when Johnny hastily called him over. The memory still haunts you to this day, and Taeyong only uses that to his advantage. 

“Right, you smoked to the point that you greened out all because of me. Not because you have some crazy jealousy issues.” he says sarcastically, looking out at the water as he exhales the smoke. You couldn’t believe how inconsiderate he was being. He was never like this before. This wasn't your Taeyong. “Are you that fucking dense?” you ask him, genuinely wanting to know why he couldn’t understand your reasoning for being upset. “Are you?,” he counters. “Stop treating this like some dumb joke just like you do with everything else.” you say shakily as you stand up, hastily tossing his linen shirt you were once wearing at him, only for the wind to blow it away towards the water. The material dampens, becoming transparent, only hurting you  more since you seem to be too opaque for Taeyong to understand all of a sudden. You feel him watching you as you depart, not even sparing him a parting glance. “Stop,” he pleads. “I’m sorry. I came here to talk, not fight again.”

You halt your steps, back still facing him. “Well, you’re doing a shitty job.” you respond, audibly hurt. You’ve been in this position before, convinced he was actually going to change and mend things between the two of you, only to realize you fell for his sweet lies once more. “I know, but you leaving won’t give me a chance to make it better.” he weakly refutes, resulting in a scoff from you. “Right, because you certainly haven’t had hundreds of chances already. Taeyong I’m–” you pause, gasping softly when you feel the cold, wet material of his shirt drape over your bare shoulders. You hadn’t even heard him get up to get it, nor did you hear him walk up behind you. The scent of bud fills your nostrils once more when he holds the blunt up to your lips, coercing you into taking another hit. You oblige, hearing him faintly whisper under his breath; “You just need to relax, princess.” 

He knew what he was doing. He might as well be considered a siren to you at this point given the setting. Closing your eyes, you exhale. With it, you exhale all of the times he’s wronged you; the touches on skin that didn’t belong to you, his absence that created a void so unfillable, the tears you’ve wept, the words you shouted that went in one ear and out the other. His hands wrapping around your waist signalled to you that he knew what he was doing, but you were too gone to care. You let him walk you back to the shoreline, spitting the blunt out into the same waves you were admiring earlier, your uncharacteristic act of littering further exhibiting the grasp he had on you.

“That’s my good girl.” he praises, looking down at you with those eyes that you swore had the whole universe within them. You didn’t notice the tears falling out of your eyes once more until he brought his hand up to cup your face, gently wiping them away, then leaning down to press gentle kisses onto your cheeks. Basking in his affection, you accepted defeat, knowing you were going to let him get away with his usual antics again. Despite being closer to stopping this cycle between the two of you than you’ve ever been before, you surrender, deciding next time will be the last. Probably. 

“Taeyong–” you start, but he shushes you. “I know, baby. Just stay still. Let me take care of you.” he coos, kissing his way down until his knees bend to hit the sand, unbuttoning then tugging your shorts down. He immediately licks a strip up your panty-covered slit. You shut your eyes only to open them seconds later as he starts to suck on the material, desperately trying to taste you through it. You can’t help but just watch him in awe, in disgust, in love, in anger–he made you feel everything. 

Threading your fingers through his hair out of impatience, he gets the hint, slowly yanking the drenched garment down to your ankles. He looks up at your face for a moment, whispering something about you being his pretty girl. You couldn’t hear him over the blood rushing in your ears, your high only further inducing the need you had for him. The way your body lusted and craved him. You step forward, practically pushing yourself onto his waiting mouth, making him grin as he grips your hips to help you out. The way he went down on you had you trembling, a mess barely even minutes in. He knew how to work you over the edge, moaning as you came into his mouth, cleaning you up until you pleaded for him to slow down–but not to stop. You swore you could still feel his tongue working your overstimulated clit as he stood up, towering over you once more. 

“Can you handle more, angel?” he questions almost condescendingly, smirking as you nod eagerly. He’s suddenly lifting you up, walking the two of you over to a more secluded area of the beach, pressing you up against the elevated surface of land that almost resembled a cave. “Wrap your legs around me, tighter.” he commands as you mindlessly follow suit, practically crossfaded from the weed and the way he had you drunk for his cock. Enticed by the way he pulled himself out of his bottoms, the sight so erotic, your hand immediately travelled down his happy trail to stroke him. He let out a pleased sigh as you collected the precum already dribbling from his tip, rubbing it against your folds to make sure you were really ready for him. The two of you knew he was much larger than average, the reminder being even more fresh when you feel his thick head prodding at your entrance. He looks at you, now eye-level as he holds you up, just admiring you. He could tell he was getting closer to losing you each time he fucked up, not knowing when the last time he’ll get to have you like this will be. He had to savour this and make the most of it, just in case. 

Filling you up in one sharp thrust, you both groan, feeling the way you squeezed around him as if your body never wanted to be without him ever again–clearly in opposition with your sober mind. You hold onto him, arms draped over his shoulders as he pounds into you, nails indenting crescents on his muscular back. You bury your head in the crook of his neck to silence your moans and whimpers, embarrassed by how easily you fold for him. “I’m not letting you cum if I can’t hear you.” he says, irritated as he slows his thrusts to emphasize his words. Begrudgingly, you move your head upright once more, glaring at him. He smiles, eyebrows creasing slightly and mouth parting as he starts pounding into you once more. You both lose yourselves in each other, his lips hastily claiming yours in an instant. 

His hand sneaks down to toy with your clit, rubbing the already stimulated bud up and down with his thumb, continuing to pound into you. Arching your back, you allow him to fuck you deeper with every thrust, feeling him in places you’re not sure you have before. “I’m close...” he pants desperately, the sight of him looking so needy for you making your ego inflate due to the issues the two of you have been having. You clench around him purposely, watching him fall apart as he comes sooner than he expected, crying your name out in broken moans. You feel him paint your walls with ropes of his cum, leaving his mark on you without stopping his relentless pace. “Shit…,” he mutters under his breath. “Won’t stop ‘til you finish, baby.” he smiles lazily, still dazed from his high, reaching up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

He then moves his hand down to push a strap of your tank top down, fondling your breast and rolling his thumb around your sensitive nipple. That combined with his thrusts was all it took to have you coming for him once more, tilting your head back in a silent moan. “So sexy for me.” Taeyong praises, watching you come down. Before either of your legs give out, he pulls out of you, watching his release trickle down your thighs as he sits down. He gently places you on his lap, your back to his chest as he gently runs his large hands up and down your thighs in a soothing motion. He whispers sweet nothings into your ears as you relax against him, spent from the eventful evening you had together. 

“I thought you said you came here to talk.” you say after a few moments of heavy breathing, finally coming to your senses after he had just brought you to new heights with your orgasm. He looks down sheepishly upon hearing your vindictive tone, fidgeting with the hem of your tank top. “You seriously gonna scold me after I just fucked your brains out?” he laughs, once again not taking you seriously. You practically gave up on this relationship at this point. He may have fucked you dumb, but you weren’t a total idiot. “Drive me home,” you say, standing up on slightly shaky legs and picking up your discarded clothes, dusting the sand off of them. “We’re over.” you say flatly. 

He stands up immediately after, adjusting his own clothes. “Nah, we’re not.” he replies a little too nonchalantly for your liking. “Fuck do you mean we’re not?” you question, wondering where he got this audacity from.  He simply smiles, helping you fix yourself up, suddenly picking you up bridal style and carrying you over to his car. 

Despite the act you were putting up, you secretly knew he was right. At least for a little while longer.