sworndevotion | karteria inbox

It is so strange, to be so close to him and not feel her pulse racing in her chest. Her Spectral soul had taken that from her, but she enjoys the warmth of his touch, bringing life to places that have felt cold and adrift for such a long time. It feels as if he has ignited a fire in her, and her longing for him has found a real, physical place to settle into.

As his fingers trace over her breast, she shivers, making a soft, breathless sound, immediately embarrassed.

Lifting her gaze, she watches him, eyes dark and searching. Biting her lip, she worries it before she wiggles, giving him the space to explore, to go wherever he would like, open and vulnerable to him. She wants this, she thinks - she wants this so much, it feels as if she will implode if he doesn't give her what she needs.

"Dedue," her voice is quiet. "Your touch feels remarkable. You are remarkable."

Remarkable.

He cannot recall a time he felt that way, nor many times people offered him such a compliment. Only a couple of times in his adult life.

It warms and softens him, that she feels that way. He kneels next to her hip, his knee touching the side of it. He places metal hands on her pelvis, where her womb might be, and bends to kiss her stomach, as though in worship.

"You are so lovely."

His hands then move to her thighs, finding the bare part of them and sliding up, bringing the hem of her nightgown up over her hips. All the while, he glances at her face, trying to be sure he's not overstepping. Once the hem is up above her stomach, he bends to kiss it again.

She feels luxurious, she feels decadent, being touched and teased like this, being so at his mercy in a way that pleases her rather than terrifies. Lauralae wants this, she finds, despite her uncertainty, despite her inexperience. She wants all the things that Dedue is offering her, from the gentle press of his mouth against her own to the way his hands wander, tease and explore.

When he speaks, his low voice makes a shiver run down her spine, makes her feel a longing that had been absent within her for years. Decades, even.

As more and more skin is bared, Lauralae feels herself get shyer. It's harder to blush now with no pulse to spread her blood through her body, but the sensation of heat remains all the same. There are little patches of scales over her now, the curve of her hip, her inner thighs, dotted black and red as her new soul makes itself at home. His touch makes her burn, and the soft sound that comes from her lips is adoring.

Even as he touches her, she tries to do the same in return, fingers chasing his body, wanting to keep it for herself, wanting to keep as much of him as her own as she is able to.

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i'm so obsessed

I LIVE... orz

<3