love’s little reflections
In light of Pride Month, the VtM server I’m in ran a little gift exchange for our OCs! I got matched up with @missn11, and since I can’t draw, I wrote a couple of little drabbles with their OC, Gloria, and her boyfriend, Nines, and her girlfriend, Velvet Velour.
messaline - soft lightweight silk with a satin weave
Gloria spoils Velvet, in every possible way. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. VV deserves to be worshipped, and Gloria makes sure that she feels revered with every gesture she makes, big or small.
She drapes her lover in the finest garments her money can buy—silks and satins and lace, in every color of the rainbow, every style. VV’s wrists and neck drip with jewels, lips painted with only the best of the best when it comes to makeup. Gloria loves the taste of the lipstick on her mouth, sticky and bittersweet. Velvet goes on stage every night in only the finest lingerie, and though no one else out there knows that Gloria spent hours picking out exactly the right shades, exactly the right silhouettes, it sends a shock of excitement through her every time she sees VV up there in something she picked out.
It’s not the kind of relationship Gloria ever thought she’d have, truth be told. She’d had many a lover try to win her over with extravagant gifts and hollow gestures, too focused on showing off their money to care whether the gifts were things she’d actually like or not. It wasn’t a great feeling, and she’d always thought it shallow at best, but—this is different.
Velvet receives love best in grand gestures and gifts. Every time Gloria brings her something new, her face lights up, and it’s just like the very first time all over again. In her human life, VV didn’t feel so worthy of such love, and so when she receives extravagant love—meaningful extravagant love, with gifts and gestures that mean something—she practically melts in Gloria’s arms.
It’s a feeling unlike anything Gloria has really felt before, and it makes it all the more special when she gets to lay Velvet down on their silky sheets and give. She gives and gives and gives, and she loves every moment of it. What she gives to Velvet, Velvet gives right back—in words, in letting Gloria take control, in giving herself over to the pleasure, to love, with the trust that she is safe and loved in return.
It’s breathtaking. It’s humbling.
They dance together through the night, VV leaning back into Gloria’s arms, her small frame fitting perfectly against her as they tangle together until they are both spent. Sex in the afterlife is strange—less hot and sticky, more simmering heat and bloody lips—but even so, being with VV feels like being alive again. Her lips are always warm, and the way her body moves so effortlessly, so gracefully…
What a wonderful and rare luxury, to find this kind of love in a world like this.
selcouth - unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet wonderful
With Nines, love is quiet. Subtle. A brush of fingers on the wrist in passing. An arm thrown over her waist as the day-sleep takes them. The grand gestures give way to smaller ones. He’s in control of so much in his daily life—in charge of so many people, with so many things that cause him stress at the end of the day—that by the time they find a moment to be together, without anyone else, he’s ready to give that up and breathe. She’s more than happy to take what he gives and show him how wonderful he is, through words and through touch, until he’s reminded of just how much she cares for him, and just how much he means to her.
It had taken her very little time to figure out exactly what made him tick, when they first got together. As a domme, Gloria likes to think she’s extraordinarily gifted at reading people, but with him, she found reading him was even easier than she’d expected. He’s not a man of many words or grand gestures. He doesn’t care for pomp and circumstance or gifts. No, he receives love in little moments, little things—and he gives it in the same way. Gloria knows he loves her when he makes time to see her, when he gives himself over to her with a smile on his lips, and she gives that love back to him in other little ways.
Her love language has always been somewhere between acts of service and touch, so it’s not really a surprise when she finds that they just work together. Their love shines brightest in the afterglow, when she’s running her fingers through his hair and murmuring silly, sweet nothings in his ear. When he’s trailing his fingers delicately over every curve, touch feather light to the point that it almost tickles. When she runs him a bath and massages his scalp until he’s all but melting into the bubbles, the sweet smell of candles enveloping them as she laves him with attention…
That’s when it’s best—in the aftermath.
She gets the feeling he’s never had anything quite like that with anyone else, sometimes. He doesn’t say—of course, he doesn’t—but that’s okay, because she doesn’t need him to tell her.
It’s all right there, laid out for her plain as day, and she loves it. She loves the quiet way he loves. She loves that she can be something for him that makes the day better, that she can be the thing that pulls every ounce of tension from his muscles and wrap him in comfort and happiness and ecstasy.
She’s had a lot of lovers. None of them have been like him.
Sometimes she’s really glad for the turn her life took.
