barrysserw - Tumblr blog

barrysserw · 17 days ago

Text

The room is bathed in soft twilight, with only a few candles casting warm flickers on the walls. Pure Vanilla stands in the center, his snow-white hair cascading over his shoulders, his eyes filled with anxious anticipation as they follow every movement of Shadow Milk. The latter circles him like a predator, clutching something delicate, almost weightless in his hands—a piece of black lace lingerie, its patterns both exquisite and wicked.

“You wouldn’t refuse to try this on for me, would you? Such a small thing for you…” Shadow Milk’s voice is low, laced with a hint of mockery, yet there’s something dangerously alluring in it. He stops behind Vanilla, trailing a finger with a black claw along his neck, making Vanilla shiver and lower his gaze. “I want to see you… like this.”

Pure Vanilla swallows hard, his cheeks already flushed. He wants to protest, to say it’s too much, that this isn’t for him—someone who’s supposed to be above such games. But the words catch in his throat as Shadow Milk gently but insistently nudges him toward the bed, where lace ribbons and delicate fabric are laid out.

“I… I’m not sure…” Vanilla whispers, his voice trembling, but Shadow Milk only smirks, leaning close to his ear.

“Oh, you’ll will look divine. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

With that, Shadow Milk begins to dress him, treating him like a cherished toy. His movements are slow, almost ceremonial, but his fingers linger on Vanilla’s skin longer than necessary. He pulls on the black lace stockings, his hands gliding along Vanilla’s thighs, making him bite his lip to stifle an involuntary sigh. Then comes the delicate corset, which Shadow Milk laces up from behind, deliberately pressing himself against Vanilla’s back, whispering about how perfectly it highlights his fragility. The final touch—the lace panties, their patterns barely covering the skin, leaving Vanilla feeling more exposed than if he were wearing nothing at all.

Vanilla stands, unable to meet his own gaze. His hands nervously fidget with the edge of the corset, his heart pounding so loudly he’s sure Shadow Milk can hear it. He feels vulnerable and… strangely desired. Shadow Milk’s gaze, burning and almost tangible, roams over him, and Vanilla can’t suppress a shiver.

“Look at yourself,” Shadow Milk says, grabbing his chin and forcing him to face the mirror across the room. “Aren’t you perfection?”

Vanilla sees his reflection—a fragile figure wrapped in a web of black lace, with disheveled hair and burning cheeks. He wants to look away, but Shadow Milk holds his face firmly.

“It’s… too much,” Vanilla mumbles, his voice breaking, betraying that part of him has already surrendered.

“Too much?” Shadow Milk laughs, and in that laugh lies the promise of chaos. “No, my dear. This is only the beginning.”

He suddenly grabs Vanilla by the waist, spinning him around, and in the next moment, his lips crash against Vanilla’s neck, leaving a hot trail of dark blue, almost black lipstick. Vanilla gasps, his hands instinctively clutching Shadow Milk’s shoulders, but Shadow Milk gives him no time to recover. His fingers glide over the lace, deliberately brushing against the most sensitive spots, until Vanilla’s trembling intensifies, his breaths turning into short, desperate gasps.

“I dressed you up to savor this moment,” Shadow Milk whispers, his voice growing lower, more dangerous. “And now… I want to take it all off. Slowly. Or, well, maybe not that slowly.”

Vanilla doesn’t have time to respond—Shadow Milk sweeps him up and tosses him onto the bed. The lace stretches, accentuating every curve, and Shadow Milk pauses for a moment, admiring. But it’s only the calm before the storm. His fingers dig into the corset’s fabric, and with a sharp tug, he rips the laces apart, tossing them aside. Vanilla cries out, his eyes widening, but there’s no protest in them anymore—just confusion and a heat he can’t hide.

Shadow Milk doesn’t stop. He tears off the stockings, leaving red marks from his fingers on Vanilla’s thighs, then his teeth graze the edge of the lace panties. Vanilla arches, his voice breaking into a soft, pleading moan as Shadow Milk slowly, almost torturously, pulls the remaining fabric away, his lips deliberately brushing against skin. Every tug, every sound of ripping lace makes Vanilla tremble, his fingers gripping the sheets, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Shadow Milk murmurs, his voice dripping with dark pleasure. He leans down, kissing the marks he’s left on Vanilla’s skin, and Vanilla can’t hold back the shivers, his body responding to every touch despite the shame.

When the last piece of lace falls to the floor, Vanilla lies there, breathing heavily, completely bare, with disheveled hair and bite marks on his neck and thighs, smudged with dark lipstick. His gaze, a mix of fear and desire, meets Shadow Milk’s eyes, and in that moment, he realizes—the game has only just begun.

Sorry my first time writing in English, English not my first language

Also I take requests🎉💪

#shadowvanilla #pure vanilla cookie #shadow milk cookie #shadow vanilla

21 notes · View notes

barrysserw · 1 month ago

Text