#vermilion

ʚɞ sponsor ── .✦ ────────────

vermilion // goth gf set ╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ @ mainstore

ʚɞ the warehouse sale ── .✦ ────────────

reverie // miki eyes ╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ june 23rd - july 18th

ʚɞ body + head ── .✦ ──────────── ebody // reborn lelutka // ceylon hair: pado

You expected the marble planes of his shoulders and chest would feel like those of the statues you and your friend gawked over when she dragged you to the museum last week, snickering like schoolgirls over the intricacies of a sculpted scrotum, looking around to make sure nobody could overhear two freshly grown women behaving that way.

But now that such perfection is spread across your soft and well loved bedsheets, you realize it’s nothing like you assumed it would be.

He’s nothing like you assumed he’d be.

You straddle his hips, knees on either side of his torso, each exploratory touch of your hand accompanied by a subtle squeeze of your spread thighs or a slight rock of your core over where his bulge rests beneath it that you cannot help.

His skin is hot, flushed with the most luscious tinge of red that has spread from his throat to his chest to his collarbones and arms. Each breath he takes comes out in a heaving puff, as if he wasn’t quite sure what it would be like to be pinned beneath you like this.

There’s nothing cold about the blood that pumps through his veins, his heart pounding against its cage while he realizes all at once that perhaps he feared this moment more than he thought.

Vergil feared you’d think him a monster, unworthy of the weight of your roving eyes and your nimble fingers and that gorgeous, clearly impressed hum that you keep purring while dragging your thumb through the divots and peaks of his abdomen.

He’s never been sought out like this. He’s never been sought out at all, in fact, and his cock jumps and strains against his zipper in reaction to the thought you’ll be the first to ever have him.

You’re the first to ever assume there’s more than a wall of ice over his being; over his heart. You’re the first to look at him, lips curled into a smile while you lean down to press your chests together, the sensation of your breasts pressing against his muscle drawing a throaty moan from him.

All that’s between him and you now is a few articles of clothing, no ice, no marble, no avoidance.

Just the first time he’s ever been loved as a man and not feared as a demon.