#choco cake

Circle II: Lust

Estranged Lovers

w/ k.ys x reader

g/ demon!au, mystery, suspense, a touch of angst and a sprinkle of suggestive

a.n/ this might be my favourite so far. props to you if you figured out which yeosang i drew inspo from while writing this. extra point if you find the reconstructed ‘reference’ to alighieri’s “divine comedy” here.

t.w/ none

recommended playlist:

by shoji meguro -

mistic

because i will protect you

Go home, young one. Go home.

Home is where you don’t want to be. Home is where you’ve been avoiding since the case lands on your desk. You’ve been making yourself comfortable on your desk, the locker room bench, the break room sofa, the autopsy table, anywhere that’s not home. They think you’re invested in the case. To an extent you are, only to make sure it doesn’t go the way the department wants it but hinders the other side just as much. Now that you’re home, all the effort of keeping things neutral goes down the drain.

He’s waiting for you to come home to him.

Home is the representation of your consciousness and home is an empty shell. It has been after you disappear from the underworld. Stark walls, bare minimum furniture, uninviting and cold, everything not home. Home reminds you of the carnal desire guise in soft touches and deep kisses. It reminds you how cold the other side of the bed is. Home reminds you of him. Emotions are funny things. Was it love or lust that caused the divide?

Your body hits the bed, mattress hard and linen sheets crisp. The room blurs when sleep starts to claw its way into your mind and your lids droop lower and lower until darkness shrouds you in its embrace. Darkness is warm contrary to popular belief. It morphs to your need, it transforms into a place where you find your home. You never expect to find yourself in a familiar palace chamber. Feather pillows under your head and silk sheets covering you.

The sheets rustle as the bed dips to your side and an astound gasp echoes in the regal room. You feel the weight of your old flame rest against you, arms coiling around your figure to keep you close. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “You’re home,” he sighs, warm breath tickling your skin. “Yeosang.” He keens at the call of his name. “I have missed you dearly, my love.” The dark is deceptively welcoming. Yeosang is too saccharine to greet you like this. He shouldn’t, not after how badly you two parted. You push him away, knocking the wind out of his chest. The strength in your body is sapped immediately. Your arms wobble under you, making you almost fall on top of him.

Yeosang is still as beautiful as before. Perhaps even more after you’ve not seen him for so long. His dark hair is now light brown, splaying on the pillow like a halo. His eyes are still the warm chocolate brown you adore. You caress the marks on the corner of his eye with your thumb, watching how he chases your touch. “You’re not real.” The hurt is palpable in his gaze and it claws at you. “I’m real. I’m right here, my love.” You shake your head, “No, let me out.” Yeosang leans up and presses his lips to yours, hands cradling your face. Icy grip seeps into your marrows and the illusion dissipates into darkness.

When you open your eyes, you’re back at your bleak apartment. The tautness in your shoulders is unwanted but it’s there to ground you as your consciousness floats back to the Living Plane. Yeosang. His name hasn’t crossed your mind for a while until now. The fog he blankets you in has disappeared when you left.

It’s too warm here. Your icy cold apartment is warming up. The heat is enough for you to feel the shadow contorting in the stillness. You don’t need to hear him utter a word to know who invaded your space. His presence alone brings worldly sluggishness. Kang Yeosang. “Why did you leave?” Oh, how you hate the question. Leave where? The underworld? The illusion? Left you? The more you ponder, the more Yeosang makes himself comfortable beside you. He pulls you into his arms and you didn’t push him away because this is real. “Why are you here?” This Yeosang is the same Yeosang who holds you together back then. “Because you called.” The end of the vow is left unsaid. And I will always find you.

The burnish gold silk shirt is cool under your cheek, you could hear his heart beating steadily and yours eventually matched in the silence. You press closer to him, chest to chest, eye to eye. His chocolate irises are glazed with burgundy tint, decadent like the richest wine in the palace cellar. His eyes flicker down to your lips before meeting yours again. “Kiss me, Yeo-“ He already is. He didn’t listen to anything else after the first word. Lips claiming yours in frenzy, a hand behind your neck and an arm around your waist.

Being kissed by Yeosang feels like free-falling, wind whipping the hair and head fuzzy. All inhibitions lost to the sensation of him working you into a heated passion, fire consuming the soul. His lips trail down to your jaw and neck, the collar of your shirt obstructing him from his ministration. You nod when he glances up and your suit jacket and shirt fall to the floor. Lust and Treachery go hand in hand. You and Yeosang are convenient for each other.

Everything in your mind escapes you. Everything resets to old habits and bad habits. You are home after all. There’s nothing to hide at home, Yeosang strips the closet bare and the skeletons dance in liberation. He makes you lose yourself and your back arch. The frozen apartment seems like a setting at the height of summer.

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Stiles: It's fine. Wait, how?

[assistant shows double fudge chocolate cake]

A little gift for @nalintant , because she is making such great fanarts. 🙈🙈🙈

I hope you like the cake Simon made for you. Actually I planned to draw Ralph, because he's my favourite , but I don't think he can cook or bake very well (sorry Ralph)😅😂

So Simon as a PL600 had glady volunteered to bake a choco cake. Thank you , Simon💙😂😂

09.11.2017

Today was my birthday.