Sacrifice of a Sinner - Chapter 16 - WrappedxInxSilk (2024)

Chapter Text

Chapter 16 - Let Me See

C a l l i o p e

“You’re it!”

Innocent shrills of laughter bounced in the humid air as you began to sprint, your blue dress whipping at the wheat of the field you played in. The smell of freshly sown soil and salty sea filled your nose as your heart raced with elation, your small legs moving quicker than the last game.

“You won’t get me this time!” you called out, goading your playmate. This would be the time you would outrun her, you swore - the pier wasn’t far - distant in your view, but not for long. You paid attention to the path ahead, finally memorizing the grooves in the ground that usually tripped you up. You leaped over them, determined.

Your friend dashed behind you, her much longer legs gaining speed on you fast. She’d always been faster than you, more attuned to the land, less clumsy - but never once had she admitted that to you. Instead, she’d show you areas in the city that were the easiest to maneuver, encouraging you to try again when she’d tag you before you reached the chosen safe point.

“I better not!” she hollered back to you playfully, the sound of her feet hitting the field below growing louder. You pushed harder, refusing to look back - that, amongst the grooves, had been what secured your loss every time. Not this time.

You ran and ran, giggling wildly each time you'd successfully avoided tripping, and before you knew it, you were running against the wood of the pier, just a few feet from the edge. You won.

“I did it!” you screamed as you halted and turned to celebrate with your friend - but she wasn't there. Your little heart sank as your eyes searched for her - no horns or wiggly tail in sight. You pushed your short bangs out of your face as you waited, catching your breath.

Your friend finally appeared, faintly limping and gasping as she crossed the pier to you. The fear in her eyes struck some into your stomach, and you called out to her.

“Did you fall?” you asked as she neared. She shook her head, grabbing your hand quickly when she reached you.

“They tripped me - we need to go,” she said, and before you could ask who, three others appeared - their skin of the favored kind, their height a foot above your own. You held your friend's hand tightly as they approached.

“Come back, foulblood! We want to play, too!” one of them yelled, his voice pitchy and broken. The others laughed, pointing at the two of you.

“Mother calls those ones traitors,” another yelled, his eyes tugging at your hair and scratching your skin. A traitor? But you’d never betrayed anyone.

“Leave us alone!” your friend hollered, pulling you closer as the two of you became trapped.

“You’re the one that’s on our property,” the tallest boy said, towering as he neared. “You’re as filthy as your blood - you don’t live here, do you?” He peered down at the girl beside you.

“You don’t own this area,” you said to him, your small voice raised. “This is public property!”

“Yeah, public for those of the city,” he replied, his friends standing at each side of him, snickering with wide pupils.

“You don’t belong here either, nasty little Under-elf,” the boy on the right said, his freckled face suddenly twisting with anger. You wondered still what made you a traitor to his mother. “We should put you back Under ourselves.” His green eyes darted to the water beside you, and you froze. You couldn’t swim.

“Don’t -” your friend started, “Just let us go. We won’t come back here again, and we won’t tell anyone what happened either. Please.”

“What happened?” The tallest one co*cked an eyebrow as he looked down, walking himself two steps closer to her. “Nothing happened.”

“Yet,” the one on the left added, snickering with such excitement that his dark hair bounced.

The tall one shoved your only friend - forcing her back, nearly pushing her off the edge of the pier. You yanked her toward your side right before it could happen.

“Stop! Go away!” you screamed so hard you shook.

“Make us, fungus-face,” the freckled one growled, and he grabbed your hair, pulling it harshly. You yelped, but he did too - the moment your friend's hole-speckled boot met him between his legs. His knees thudded against the sea-sprayed wood as he fell, hand cupping his groin, crying in pain.

“You'll regret that,” the tall one barked as his face fell, and his hand dipped into his pocket. What he retrieved shone in the bright sunlight, and before he could use it, you tackled him with all the force of your sixty pound frame could muster. Tangled, the two of you flung off the pier - the boy quickly turning himself so you'd break the salty surface first.

A burning cold sharpness tore through your colon just before you descended into the sea, thrashing.

The stinging stench of acidic vomit greeted you upon your wake. It had dried, sticking to your chin and crystallizing in your hair. You gagged, stomach heaving as you sat yourself up. You pushed your crusty hair out of your face, wiping away a recent wetness from your cheeks. You'd cried and puked in your unconscious state, ravaged by your dream.

But that had been no mere dream . That was a memory . You clutched your stomach.

Eight upside-down eyes blinked at you from the top left corner of your still-dark tent - had it been midnight or dawn? No way to properly tell in the Underdark. Koh jumped, landing gently in front of your cold feet.

“Are you ill?” Koh spoke in a strange trill. What the f*ck?

“You... you don't speak ,” you blubbered, pulling your knees up to your chest as you scooted back.

“What? Please don't tell me you've started to turn,” Koh somehow said, tilting his furry white head. “Well - mind flayer to be or not, you smell awful. Let's get you cleaned up, darling.”

Your heart sped up as you watched Koh sprout two long legs from his underbelly - clad in snazzy black trousers - which lifted him comically off the ground as they grew, and then, he walked right out of your tent. You didn't move an inch, eyes wide on the spot where Koh just was. Holy sh*t.

“Are you coming, Calliope? Or do you intend on remaining barf-stained all night?” Astarion poked his head in the tent. You blinked in confusion as you felt Koh clinging to your arm with his front legs. No white fur atop his head this time.

Were you still dreaming?

Dazed and befuddled, you stood up, and a cool breeze reminded you that you'd been bare beneath your puke-stained shirt. Karlach’s puke-stained shirt. You pouted. f*ck .

Exhausted, you grabbed a handful of clean clothes out of your chest, not caring what you'd picked out. After asking the real Koh to stay put, you left your tent.

The campsite had been still - quiet and dark, just as the Under had always been. Everyone but Astarion had been asleep, you noticed, as you immediately glanced over to Karlach's tent. You silently appreciated your great dark vision as you caught a glimpse of her silhouette - but even without it, her snoring would have confirmed her current state, anyway. She was loud. Your eyes flickered back to Astarion.

“There are no safe waters to wash in down here. None near, at least,” you started, and he rolled his eyes at you, hand on his hip as he motioned you to follow him.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that,” he replied, walking toward his own tent, “I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to scrub blood from my clothes on a whim - vomit should be a breeze.”

You followed Astarion into his tent - the smell of rosemary and bergamot bringing back memories of fading beneath him. You tensed as he closed the flaps behind you.

“You entered my tent without permission?” you asked him. When had he welcomed himself into your tent? Or was that truly Koh? Your mind ached.

“Hm? No, darling, you were shouting. That, coupled with the smell of your innards - well, let’s just say you’re lucky Lae’zel didn’t come to your call - that I did instead. She’s been losing her mind over the tadpole situation, It’s all she talks about during supper. ‘I’ll be monitoring you all very closely’, ” Astarion ended his reply in a mock of Lae’zel’s voice.

You looked at him confused as he started searching through his belongings. Why was he helping you anyway? And to this degree? He pulled out some small jars and some cloth, setting it down on a vintage looking side table he’d had. As you looked around, you noticed most of his belongings looked vintage - reds and golds and old, rich patterns. Astarion was stylish.

“So you guys talk ?” you asked. He laughed, low and smooth.

“Yes, dear. We talk . You talk too, clearly. Why is this shocking you so deeply tonight?”

You wouldn't tell him what you'd seen - no way.

“I don’t mean it like that this time. I meant… I just didn’t realize you all conversed together. That’s all.”

“Well, you’re usually either metaphorically up Karlach’s tail end or rushing back to your tent,” he said with a chuckle. “I hardly ever see you eat, and that’s when everyone’s chatting - supper time. Speaking of eating - you really should, you’re looking frail,” he said, taking his hands to the end of your shirt and beginning to lift. You slapped his hands away.

“I can undress myself,” you groaned.

“Then hurry up and do it already. I can hardly breathe in your presence without gagging ,” he said, crossing his arms. You glared at him, pointing a finger and wriggling it in a circle, gesturing for him to turn around. He raised a brow, licked his teeth and turned.

You took it off and threw the shirt beside his feet. He bent over and started cleaning it as you dressed yourself in a pair of leather pants and a tight shirt. With Astarion’s back towards you, you noticed the grooves beneath the material of his light sleep shirt, reminding you of how they’d felt under your fingers when you’d hugged him. You wondered what they were, though you'd assumed they were from Cazador.

“There - shirt’s brand new,” he said as he turned. “It will need time to dry, but it's clean. Now sit -” he said, patting the embroidered pillow near his bedroll as he sat down, “Let’s get the rest of you.”

You sat down, and he scooted himself closer to you - close enough to smell his faintly warm breath. It smelled like coppery wine, and it smelled like Wyll. He brought a wet cloth toward your face, and you blinked fast. He searched your expression.

“I’m not stupid enough to try and hurt you, Calliope. I don’t want to, either,” he said. “I… I want to be kind to you - I haven’t always been.” He pressed the cloth to your cheek, gently rubbing the soft material in small circles, moving down toward your jaw and chin. His red eyes followed his movements. He was gentle.

“What happened to your back?” you asked him, and he sighed.

“Why go and ask questions like that? Right after I’d said I didn’t want to hurt you. Ugh ,” he scoffed, moving the cloth down your neck. It tickled, and you flinched a bit. You were sensitive, and before you could ponder on why, the other night's perverted events ran through your tired head. Your face warmed.

“Come off it,” you replied, ignoring the warmth. “Just tell me.”

“Vampires don’t have the luxury of seeing their reflection, you fool,” he said, gliding the cloth back up your neck and toward your lips. “Cazador scarred me, is all I know.”

“No one’s ever looked at it for you?”

“No. I don’t want them to. It’s my problem.”

Astarion wet a new cloth and started with your hair, taking the strands in his hand and wiping them down. It plucked pleasantly at your scalp, causing you to shift. His eyes flickered from your hair to your face, and he huffed a laugh, continuing to clean you.

“You’re always so.. responsive . How in the Hells are you managing with the untouchable tiefling?” he smirked. Your brows pinched together.

“Quit trying to change the subject. I want to see your back,” you replied firmly.

“Get in line, sweetheart. I’m told my backside is my best side,” he chuckled, and he finished cleaning your hair, giving a light tap on your cheek before pulling his hand away.

“Shut your mouth and take your damned shirt off,” you demand.

“Oh, for Gods sake. You won’t drop this, will you?” he asked. You shook your head. He rolled his eyes and took the bottom of his shirt in his grip, quickly pulling it off of his torso with ease. Your gaze fell on its own, inspecting his pale, toned frame. There were many well-faded scars on his front. Too many to count.

“Am I to your liking, my cantrip-happy friend?” he grinned. You blinked at him.

“Turn.”

He scoffed and turned around, showing you his back. His shoulders squared, and he took a deep breath.

On Astarion’s back was a massive, intricate and purposeful scar - three circles inside of each other of various sizes, strange lines dashing through each one. In the middle, a symbol. You brought your finger to his skin, feeling their texture. He flinched, and the longer you inspected the tattoo, the more familiar the pattern looked. The pattern was similar to the one carved in Karlach’s curved horn, similar to the tattoos drawn on her skin. Marks she’d not talked to you about yet, though mentioned getting them against her will.

“Why is there infernal on your back?” you asked him.

“Wow… Two centuries of carrying this on my back and I can finally see it.” Astarion stared at the drawing for a while, his brows pulling together, eyes widening, lips frowning.

“Did Cazador write infernal frequently?” you questioned.

“No. Not that I ever witnessed. Cazador may be a hellish beast, but only figuratively . There were never any devils hanging about the crypt. Whatever he carved into my flesh is a mystery to me.”

“We’ll find someone who can read infernal among our travels, I’m positive. I’d say we could ask Karlach, but she hasn’t talked about her infernal own markings yet - at least not to me. I don’t want to upset her.” You felt you had to clear the air - I’ll help you, but don’t bother her. Not unless she offers.

“I don’t wish to upset her, either. Not because I’m head over heels for her, but because she’s a flaming barbarian who's three times my size,” he laughed light-heartedly. “I’m already on her sh*t list regarding you as it is,” he added, and you smiled.

“So, are you going to answer my questions now?” he asked.

“What questions?”

“How are you managing with her?” he repeated his question from earlier and set the drawing down beside him, holding his hands together in his crossed lap, and you bit at your lip.

“I’m not sure what that means,” you answered.

“Well, you haven’t been able to touch her, for starters. Also, there’s the issue of the fact that you haphazardly crave to slice open people’s arteries. And, your flashbacks… what was that the other day, by the way?”

He’d overwhelmed you, and you wanted to leave. Instead, you drew a deep breath and blurted out your truth.

“I’ve become entirely unhinged in her presence. Selfishly . She hasn’t been touched in ten years - kind nor lustful - and all I’ve managed to do is provoke her. Since the initial upgrade, she’s been able to withstand some things, but never allowing me to touch her - yet . Says it’s too risky. She worries about my safety even as I tease her relentlessly. It’s disgusting of me, but I can’t stop.”

“Oh, please, you depraved little freak - I highly doubt she finds it disgusting. She clearly enjoys you. She looks at you like you’re her next meal, and as far as I’ve noticed, that barbarian really likes to eat .” Astarion smirked, and your stomach clenched. “Now, about the flashback?”

“I stabbed a man to death for Lolth’s praise while f*cking him on the ground,” you answered flatly, your mind in too many places at once.

Astarion’s eyes widened. He looked you up and down, then barked a laugh.

“Good Gods , You’re a crazy bitch ,” he snickered. “I love it. So you are Lolth sworn, then?”

“I might have been before, but I am as much a follower of Lolth now as I am a follower of the Absolute,” you answered.

Something about the idea of worshipping Lolth brought a shivering dread to your core - even though you’d watched yourself commit a horrible act in her name through your awful recollection, it didn’t feel correct. It wasn’t only that you’d despised yourself for doing something so unforgivable - the dread ran deeper than that. Worshipping Lolth - Unacceptable. Irreverent.

“I thought Lolth punished those who defied her. Have you been punished by her?” he asked.

“I don’t think so. My urges are related to something else entirely - my butler is evidence of that,” you answered, and when you’d realized you hadn’t yet explained that to him, you did, to which he responded by telling you he wanted to meet him. You rolled your eyes.

“How are you managing with Wyll?” you asked him.

“There is no managing to be had. He’s eye candy - absolutely delicious eye candy at that, oh , that man,” Astarion purred. “But that’s all it is. We’ve fooled around, but he’s far too… righteous for me. He’d never accept me for who I am - the things I’ve done for Cazador - Hells , for myself, too.” There it was - the same exact thing you’d told yourself about Karlach over and over again.

“It’s not too late to be someone different now - to be your own person, make your own choices. You’re out of Cazador’s grasp - we won’t let him get to you ever again.”

“ Tuh . You’ve not known that man. I am nowhere near free from his grasp, and I won’t be until he’s dead and turned to ash,” he answered.

“Then we shall kill him,” you declared, taking his cold hand in yours, squeezing gently. He squeezed back, patting the top your hand with his other.

“Perhaps we shall.”

You’d given the vampire an awkward thank you , left his tent and dropped your belongings off to your own, sitting yourself by the snuffed out campfire just after. The silence was strange, as you’d usually been one of the last ones awake. Your eyes bored into the charred logs, thoughts drifting back to your dream memory. How old were you then? Six, eight? Where were your parents? Did you have any? Who was your friend, and had she survived? Had you died?

The sound of tent material shuffling played in your ear to the right, and you looked over your shoulder, instantly meeting Karlach’s gaze as she exited her space. Though she’d clearly been taken back by your presence this early, she smiled, flashing you a pretty little fang. You watched as she approached you, her long, thick legs striding with an energized pep. She’d been wearing something different this day - a black half-top with silver buckles and sturdy material that had protected her chest and upper arms, leaving her bulky forearms on display. Her midriff was exposed, and though her pants were likely hip height, a wide piece of material with the same silver buckles covered her lower waist. She had the hood of her top up and over her head, one hole cut for her horn to stick out of. Divine.

“Crawled out of your web early this morning, aye?” she jested, wiggling her brow. She reached toward the bag on the ground, pulling out a handful of dried meat. She sighed when she realized there were only a few left.

“Was flung out of it, more like,” you answered. You struggled to keep your eyes from locking on her exposed midriff.

“Oh, no. You feeling alright?” Her brows pinched together, eyes filling with concern as she took a bite of the jerky.

“Bad dreams,” you muttered, watching her wet tongue dart out and drag across her lips mid-chew. She pointed a piece of jerky toward you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked softly. You took the meat from her, and you drew your gaze up to her broken horn, counting the grooves in the thick portion that remained attached to her head and the little spurs that sprouted around it. You wondered how it'd feel to run your finger over them. You found them to be so beautiful - like the freckles that dotted her cheeks, your favorite being the one near her left jaw. Karlach was beautiful all over.

You briefly tensed with a flicker of wrath as you recalled the slur the tall boy had called the horned friend from your childhood - Foulblood .

“Well, I am certain now that I’ve spent some amount of time living in Baldur’s Gate,” you responded, and you put the meat in your mouth - the saltiness of it had made your nose crinkle. Karlach seemed to notice as her eyes lowered on your face.

“And it was bad? Your time there?” she asked.

“I don't know. I think I just need more time to piece things together,” you said, and you bit into the meat - it was tough as f*ck, and your blunt teeth struggled to tear into it. You pulled on it as you bit down hard, and when it finally budged, your head snapped back a bit. Karlach chuckled with a mouthful, leaning herself back a bit on the log.

“Bit stiff, yeah babe? Gods, I miss real food. I mean, I love this stuff but, it's not the same as a home-cooked meal.” Karlach started on her third piece. You could watch her eat all day.

“What's your favorite home-cooked meal?” you asked, trying not to be obvious about watching her chew. Karlach’s eyes lit up at the question.

“Oh - mince pies! No doubt about it. Mum used to whip ‘em up fresh - dunno how she did it, but the crust was always perfect . She'd set them in the window to cool, and I'd smell it from miles away,” she smiled warmly at the memory. “It was impossible to get me to come back inside as a wee one, but not on the days where mum made mince pies.”

As Karlach told you about the mince pies her mother had made, your heart hammered. It seemed as though Karlach had something of a normal childhood - so how'd she end up working for a monster? Where were her parents now? Was her father involved too? How old was Karlach - was that appropriate to ask? Wait - how old were you now? Your head had become congested with questions about Karlach’s life and your own, but you'd been afraid to ask, the idea of upsetting her plucking at your heart strings.

“I don't think I've had mince pie before. It must be wonderful - especially your mother's,” you'd said, instantly cringing at how off it sounded. Karlach only chuckled.

“They're amazing . We'll have to find some when we reach the city - a good mince pie and a frosty pint,” she leaned closer to you - so close you nearly flinched from her mirage of heat, her gaze suddenly hardening, “It'll be the perfect replenisher for once I finally get to lick every ounce of energy out of you. ”

The entirety of the Underdark paused.

Karlach didn’t blink as she probed you, her eyes so hot on your skin that your hands ached to shield it - to shelter your degenerate face. Instead, you’d gripped at the log beneath you, stilling yourself while your heart forced your blood to your stomach at such a brisk rate that you’d wanted to jolt. Then, very swiftly, Karlach hooked her boot around yours and pulled, forcing your legs to open up - all the while still staring down at you, unblinking, so unusually still.

“Do you know how difficult it is for me to stop myself from burrowing my head between your legs?” She moved an inch closer, only enough space between the two of you for her to take another bite of her last piece of jerky, so casually that it - in that moment - almost offended you. She’d stayed looking and waiting, as though she expected an answer as she’d chewed and swallowed her food. You couldn’t breathe, let alone speak.

“You left your wet silk in my tent by the way - but that was purposeful, wasn’t it? Wanted me to smell you, watch you, want you, unable to have you? Do you know what that is, Calliope? It’s dirty. It’s mean. ”

“ I’m sorry, ” you’d barely uttered.

“You’re not, but you will be,” she said, and finally leaned back. You drew in a huge breath, your entire body flushed. She finished her meat, nonchalantly licking the remaining salt off of her fingers, and you’d wondered what she meant.

“I am sorry, though. It’s not fair, the way I’ve teased you.”

“ Mm . You’ll be making it up to me, won’t you?” Karlach smirked, bouncing her leg.

“As many times as you’ll allow me to,” you answered. For the rest of your life.

“In that case - keep it up, ” she giggled. You grinned.

“I don’t think I could stop myself, anyway. You’re kind of making me lose my f*cking mind.”

“Are you sure it’s me and not the tadpole?” she jested.

“Oh, no. It’s you ,” you stated. She chuckled again - so warm.

“The same can be said on my end. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before,” she shifted and put her hands together.

“What is ‘ this’? ” you probed shamelessly.

“I dunno. There’s just something about you, Callie. Scares me a bit, if I’m honest - but I like it. A lot.”

“I scare you?”

“In a good way. Like… like when you’re doing something you’re not supposed to be doing, and you’re about to get caught. Which I guess is really just excitement, but… there’s something more. Darker. Like I said - I dunno.” Karlach rustled her hair sheepishly.

“I see. Did you get into trouble often as a child?”

“Who, me ?” she feigned shock and chuckled. “Y'know how I said it was difficult to get me inside as a little one? Well, yeah - I kept busy. Very busy, never stopped, really. I've never been one to sit still for too long. So, yeah, naturally, trouble and I got along well.”

“And what exactly did trouble and you do?”

“Lots of things. Before I guarded Gortash, I took on as many odd jobs as I could to help my folks out. Mum and dad worked hard, too hard - wasn’t fair. I tried to take on work with dad at first, but he didn’t like it, said it was no place for his little girl to be. Eventually, I found my own work as a laborer, just carrying heavy sh*t, no big deal - really simple work until one day, a few of the brutes on the lot got into a fight. Me, being the idiot I am, decided to break them up - ending up having to pin the instigator, which, let me tell you - he did not like being humbled by a teenage girl. However, one of the other guys enjoyed it a lot - so much that he’d offered me a job - a much better paying job.”

“Is that how you met Gortash?” you asked.

“Sorta. The job I took on got me into some really sketchy places, tracking down baddies and such. I enjoyed it though, especially when they put up a fight - which is how I ended up brawling. The satisfaction of knocking the smug grin off of men’s faces who thought they’d defeat me was almost as good as the heavy coin I’d take home after each fight,” Karlach chuckled. “It was shortly after I started brawling that I ran into Gortash. Said he saw potential in me - potential for something ‘ great’ .”

Karlach told no lie - she had indeed been a very busy girl. Reckless at that. You couldn’t deny the joy it brought you to imagine her tackling down proud men who’d hoped to harm her, however. And you’d known Karlach was an exceptional martial combatant - seen it for yourself, but you hadn’t known how deep that river ran for her. It only confirmed how Gortash - a grown man - took such advantage of her - just a young girl, trying to afford life, risking her own in the process. What a piece of f*cking sh*t. One you’d sworn you’d smear beneath your boot.

“You’ve done so much in your life, Karlach. I can’t help but feel you must be tired,” you said, worried about how she’d take that.

“Surprisingly, no, Little Spider. I’m not tired yet. I’ve always had too much energy. The only thing I’m really tired of is not being able to touch you. I’d really like to hold your dainty hand in mine. And toss you around a bit, but yeah.” Karlach raised a playful brow.

“Just because you’ve felled demons and men doesn’t mean you’ll be able to toss me so easily, barbarian, ” you teased back. Her eyes widened and she laughed.

“Is that right? You think I wouldn’t have your little ass beneath me in three seconds flat?” Karlach’s voice got breathy, and it made you feel weak.

“It takes nothing but a whisper for me to have you dominated,” you said.

“Maybe - but it might be hard to speak with my hand over that mouth of yours, Callie. With your hands behind your back, too. What then?”

Your heart started to race yet again at the fantasy of being bound by Karlach - stuck against her. Completely at her mercy. You’d felt your nipples harden beneath your tight shirt.

“I need neither my hands or mouth to strike fear into you,” you muttered low.

“Do it, then. I dare you.” Karlach provoked you. She either didn't believe you'd do it - or she simply wanted you to. You'd give her what she wanted, then. Just a taste, at least .

You'd turned your body toward Karlach, throwing a leg over the log and straddling it. Karlach grinned down at you, her eyes swarming with a brightened fire. You poured yourself into those eyes - focusing deeply on her consciousness, the very core of her being, so sickeningly sweet - and with an exhale, you'd sent a short wave of pure terror through her. You watched as her pupils dilated, her chest rising and falling faster as she fell into your dread. He spoke through you, slipping an inconceivable whisper into her soul, and she shivered just before tensing - her tail going straight as an arrow. Her lips parted, like she wanted to speak, but she couldn’t. Her fear tasted bitter, and it almost made you pull back.

“What kind of weird little staring competition is this ?” Shadowheart’s sudden appearance broke you from your concentration, setting Karlach free from your fright. She quickly cleared her throat and stood up, her tail twitching as it relaxed. You grinned.

“Morning, Shadow. Sleep well?” Karlach stammered.

“As well as one can down here. I’ll admit - though this place is remarkably beautiful, it’s darkness really throws off ones schedule. I’m looking forward to getting back to the surface,” Shadowheart answered.

“Me too. I miss the sun and the grass,” Karlach admitted. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing either again for a long while, though, if Halsin was right about the shadow lands.”

Your barbarian missed the land above. Time to go.

“We should waste no more time, then. We have duergar to kill,” you said.

Killing the remaining duergar invaders was simple - they’d scattered about the abandoned dwarf camp not too far from the myconid colony, entirely unsuspecting of you and your companions arrival. Your knife hand reveled in tearing their flesh after you’d shattered their minds - whatever flesh was left of them after Karlach’s axe work, of course. She’d been extra enthusiastic in her slashing, and you wondered if she’d felt the need to remind you of her strength after scaring the sh*t out of her earlier. Regardless, you enjoyed the show - muscles rippling, grunts echoing, snarls exposing the teeth you wished to run your tongue across. Magnificent.

The Sovereign was pleased with your news when you’d informed him of the duergar deaths, surrounding you with bliss spores and praise as reward. But he’d asked another favor of you - he’d told you of a drow man named Nere, said he wanted his head. You liked taking heads, and you liked Sovereign, so you’d agreed. Besides, Nere was said to be across the lake that you’d intended to cross, anyway, as you’d promised Thulla you’d help free the ironhand clan from the slavers.

After learning the boats could only carry four persons, you ordered Astarion and Wyll to stay back and wait with Scratch and Koh. Astarion’s death glare was tasty as he’d left, his “ eye-candy ” following close behind. You smiled, hoping he’d get the chance to explore his feelings about Wyll a little deeper. Wyll was a good influence, anyway, and the entire group knew that’d been exactly what Astarion needed to be around.

To the duergar boat you and the girls went.

“What’s on your mind, Soldier?” Karlach’s worried voice nearly broke your gaze from the pitch black lake beneath you. The boat rocked unsettlingly, the motion of the waters leaving you nauseous where you stood. As you’d gaped into the lake, the undeniable sensation of something gaping back at you flooded your senses. Your mind began to fill with static, your muscles going rigid. You didn’t like this. You wanted off of the water at once.

“Nothing,” you lied. The water rippled against the boat, and your skin began to freeze.

“Are you prone to seasickness? Gods, I hope not. I can’t stand the sound of retching,” Shadowheart groaned.

“Whatever lives in the waters below is no match for our blades and wits, Calliope. Do not fret.” Lae’zel’s attempt at comforting you made Shadowheart snicker.

Her snicker was the last thing you’d heard before your surroundings faded to black.

In the blink of an eye, you were naked, you were alone, you were standing before a glimmering sea atop a stone monolith - body aching, face wet with tears, hands drenched in blood. You were hopeless. The unforgiving sea of the Under beckoned you, drew you to its mass, its voice of a realm unfathomable.

“Sink to the depths of my loch, wretched forsaken, and receive me how death has refused to receive you. Bequeath to me your unholy flesh - so you have vowed it to me from a time before your God. Descend to me, precious calamity. You have long denied your temple in honor of me. Your giving awaits you.”

Your knees buckled, casting your tremoring body to the frigidity beneath. You fell slowly, and when you’d met the sea, shards of ice shot through your nerves, shocking your system as it pulled you from the warmth of living. Every second that passed turned your carcass firmer, freezing your organs steadily as your heart slowed to a stop. You felt the fathomless grip of the floor of the sea before it crushed you to death in its slick grasp.

It burned. Gods, it burned, and you wished to pull away from it as you came to, but you couldn’t move. Somehow, your body had been moving anyway. You’d been gliding, weightless as your limp limbs hung over a firm mass of smoldering wet heat. It threatened to melt your skin, and when you’d cried, fiery water filled your lungs. You were drowning again. Just let go.

Thump - your back hit something hard.

“I’m so sorry, I - I can’t swim! ” Shadowheart shouted.

“She’s burned! I f*cking burned her! Heal her, NOW !” Karlach roared woefully in the distance as your lungs contracted, forcing mucky fluids to fill your mouth and nose. Everything burned - your chest, your stomach, your nostrils and throat, every inch of your skin. Burning hot, burning cold. You’d been frozen and lit on fire at the same time.

“Calm yourself! She is undying. She shall live! Damn you, Karlach - I would have retrieved her!” Lae’zel was shouting.

“You hesitated!”

“No - I anticipated your leap. I will not leave Shadowheart to fend for herself atop this vessel when she cannot swim!”

“ Te curo! ”

A gentle light soothed you, warming your cold, cooling your heat. Your nerves stopped spasming, and your coughs had begun to dry. When your eyes focused, they’d been met with Karlach’s devastated and drenched face, her choppy hairs dripping cold water onto your face. She’d leaned over you, on her hands and knees atop the boat.“ Gods, Calliope, I’m so sorry ,” she blubbered, her heaven-sent lips trembling above you. “Tell me you’re alright. Please. ”

“I’m wet,” you croaked, bringing your hands to the damp clothes that stuck to your skin. You hated how it felt.

“Yeah, baby, that’s what happens when you plunge yourself into a godsdamned Under lake,” Karlach sobbed. “I burned you, Callie. I will never forgive myself.”

“No - you’re already forgiven,” you said, and you sat yourself up. Shadowheart had been staring down at you, her face filled with an unusual guilt. Lae’zel stood with her arms crossed, shoulders nearly grazing Shadowheart’s.

“Should we expect this behavior from you every single day now, drow?” Lae’zel asked.

“I don’t know. What happened?” you questioned.

“You spaced out again. You mumbled something about a calamity and chucked yourself into the water,” Karlach answered with a frightened voice, the warmth of her body helping to dry you. She fully dried within a matter of minutes. She’d been burning up. “What in the Hells is going on, Calliope?”

“I think I’ve had some unpleasant experiences with water. And the Underdark. And Baldur’s Gate,” you answered. Unpleasant to say the least.

“A discussion for later - we're approaching the ruins,” Lae'zel mentioned.

K a r l a c h

I couldn’t stop thinking about your weight on my shoulder as we passed through the ruins, and how thankful I was to have a cleric on board with us. I burned you in the middle of trying to save you from drowning, and I’d felt like utter sh*t about it. I had no idea if you could swim or not - the topic had never come up, but you went unconscious, and no one can swim unconscious. You seemed not to be bothered by getting scorched by my stupid f*cking body, but I knew better - it hurt you. I hurt you. f*ck. I’ll make it up.

The ruins turned out to be an abandoned fortress built by worshippers of the Lady of Loss, freshly inhabited by nasty Absolutists and slavers. I would’ve taken a moment to appreciate the beauty of the architecture if it weren’t for that. Well, that, and the heaps of executed drow that had been put on display.

“Gods, all these drow. Someone’s trying to send a message,” I said, and I sidestepped closer to you, the weight of my axe on my back bringing me a sense of comfort. I couldn’t tell if the sorrowed look on your face was from the sight of your people before you, or from your spontaneous little dive earlier. You can’t be trusted near any ledge right now, I reminded myself.

“Yes, they are trying, but the message is pointless. They’ll all be dead together soon enough,” you’d said, and I nodded in agreement.

“Whatever way we go about this, we have to do it cautiously - I want to ensure these gnomes make it out alive. However many of them are left,” I added.

“I fear there may not be many,” Shadowheart said, pointing down a hallway. A couple of duergars were tossing small, lifeless bodies into the lake, the floor beneath them drenched in innocent blood. I fought back a snarl at the sight. You looked to me, then toward the hallway, then moved in the direction, and I followed right behind.

“‘Less you're here to kick some stiffs lake-side, I suggest you bugger off.” A duergar with a thick Absolute pendant hanging off of his neck mouthed off to you as you’d been the first to approach.

You’d taken this role of leading everyone around somewhat involuntarily, and though it worried me sometimes, I found it favorable to stick behind you. Not just because I enjoyed watching the way you moved from the back, but because at your little height, I could see everything going on around us from right over your head. If someone were to make a move toward you at any angle, I’d see it. It had been years since I’d played someone’s bodyguard, but for you, it came naturally. You lead, I guard.

I watched as you looked over the corpses before responding to the cultist f*cker. You were upset, that much was clear. Your lips always pressed together just the slightest bit when you were trying to hide it.

“I’ll be finishing up here. You two are wanted with the others,” you’d lied to the duergar, and they believed it.

“Thank the Absolute. They’re all yours,” the duergar replied to you, and they wobbled off.

“These poor gnomes. They deserved better than they got,” I said.

“Indeed. May they rest in peace,” you said, and you’d bowed your head in respect. I joined.

“We should check them for loot - either they’ll hold something useful, or may have something Thulla and the others would like in remembrance of them,” Shadowheart said, then kneeled in front of one.

“Do not touch them - corpses carry disease. They must be buried or burned,” Lae’zel growled. Someone was feeling protective of Shadow as of late.

“You can take a day off, Lae,” I groaned.

“Yes - unclench your green ass cheeks for once , would you?” Shadowheart snipped.

“As soon as you place your yapping lips upon them,” she retorted. Shadowheart feigned disgust and rolled her eyes.

We’d looted the deep gnomes and made way. On our way to the main hall, we ran into a duergar stonemason - he was eager to crack the mystery of what exactly happened in this abandoned fortress and asked us to assist. We figured it looked like a hellbeast had tore through the place at some point, leaving it in ruin and rubble. He thanked us for the help by handing over an infernal plate he’d found - said we’d be more likely to find use for it than he would. I didn’t like the way he looked at me when he’d said that. I should be used to those looks by now.

Moving forward, we ran into another duergar - sh*tty slaver, he’d been harassing a gnome when we approached. I could feel myself getting more and more antsy. I just wanted to set the slaves free, kill Nere and get the f*ck out of there, but nothing had ever been so simple. Since the crash, it’d been one thing after the other. Guess it was too much to hope I’d escape without a messy consequence. The only mess I wanted was yours - all over my face and hands. Oof, now’s not the time to be fantasizing, is it?

“Hey, Sticksh*t, ” the drunken duergar man barked at the gnome.

“It’s skickpit, pisspot! ” the gnome barked back.

“That’s what I said - Sticksh*t. Another round, Sticksh*t!” he laughed, waving his mug around. He’d been so bold for a man who could easily be thrown across the map. They were always like that.

“Pisspot,” the gnome reiterated.

“You flirt. Now jump to it, or it's up the lift and into the shadows,” the duergar threatened him. Wait - the shadows? Is there a lift to the shadow lands here? The gnome walked off with a pissed sneer, and the duergar chortled. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer.

“Y’know what? Cruelty like that poisons the soul, ‘til one day, you drop dead - or the person you’re f*cking with snaps and puts a sword in your eye,” I hissed.

“Ha! True Soul, yeah? Tell the sergeant we won’t move a pebble.

“ You tell ‘em. How do you live with yourself, slaver? You disgust me.” I peered down at the pathetic man.

“Comfortably. Figured it obvious. I kick up my feet, order a brew, watch ‘em work - they complain, but they love it! I’m telling you.” The slaver smiled. I growled.

“Do they now?”

You smirked at the slaver, and I instantly knew where this was going. That look in your rosy eye - you were about to play in this man’s guts. Careful, Little Spider - we can’t be so obvious. Not yet.

“They do! Go on - give it a try. They’re eager to do anything you ask of them, and I mean anything. ” He replied to you smugly. You took a step closer, and so did I.

“I think I will give it a try. I do so enjoy ordering meritless men around,” you said, and my brows furrowed for only a moment before you suddenly casted something on the duergar, making him straighten up, his eyes wide on you as he waited for orders. That’s my girl.

“Go on, then, Pisspot. Give Skickpit’s aching foot a good kiss.”

Shadowheart and I snickered as we watched the slaver fall to his knees helpless. Skickpit looked up at you in awe, then down at his tormentor. He chuckled.

“Yeah - a wet one, Pisspot,” the gnome added.

The slaver did exactly what he’d been told to do - his tongue darted out against Skickpit’s toes, making him squirm in delight. This was sick - it was exactly what the duergar deserved. When he was done kissing Skickpit’s feet, you directed the slaver to face me.

“Now, apologize to the woman before you - for upsetting her,” you ordered him. I raised a brow down at the two of you.

“I’m sorry, woman,” he started, but you quickly corrected him.

“That’s Goddess to you. Again - proper.”

“My apologies, Goddess. Please forgive me for upsetting you. I am nothing but a brainless, stinking meat sack. You are my sun on the darkest of days. Forgive me.” the slaver pleaded to me, his words an odd mix of praise and apology. His praise sounded a little too personal.

“Now jump - like you told Skickpit. Do it quietly. ” You ordered the dominated duergar to leap, and he did - he threw himself to his death. Luckily, the platform beneath him was unoccupied.

“That was a little theatrical, don’t you think?” Shadowheart asked.

“Not enough, actually,” Skickpit chimed in. “He was one of the worst. I’ve no idea why a True Soul would do that for me, but… thank you.” The gnome scuttled off before you got the chance to tell him we weren’t really True Souls.

“I can’t imagine the things they’ve been made to do down here. Well - actually, I can. It’s f*cked. Can’t wait to clear the rest of the slavers out,” I huffed.

“They will be dealt with, ussta sssiks, ” you purred and rolled your tongue, your already soft voice somehow even softer. You said something in drow - whatever it was - turned me on like a light. Never takes much with you.

“What’s that, Little Spider?” I asked. You smirked.

“It’s you, ” You answered vaguely.

“Hm. You can tell me what it means now, or I’ll just lick it out of you another time.” I chuckled at the face you’d made at the mention of a licking. Gods, you tried so hard to act unphased, just to be read like a f*cking book. With your pretty eyes up at me, I could feel my engine revving, the air around me growing hotter.

“The two of you make a riveting pair - quite entertaining to watch,” Lae’zel grinned. “Though I wonder how your differences may allow for true fornication.”

“What?” I barked a laugh. You didn’t laugh at all, only raised a brow as you turned your gaze to Lae’zel.

“What? Are you a virgin to same-sex relations? Or perhaps just a virgin entirely?” Shadowheart snickered at Lae’zel.

“No. Githyanki take pleasure where they need - we do not value abstinence or heterosexuality the way that other societies do. My curiosity lies within their difference of stature and demeanor. The small one portrays dominance, the big one portrays submission - it is fascinating,” Lae’zel said.

Now you laughed - little sh*t. “Uh, excuse me - I do not portray submission, Lae. Look at me,” I paused to flex my arms, “I’m a soldier from the Hells and an undefeated brawler. I’m six foot four and two hundred pounds of pure muscle, for God’s sakes. I'm absolutely formidable.”

I caught you looking up at me as you giggled, but I felt your eyes linger over my arms, as they often did. You either liked my arms, or were disgusted by the unmissable thick scarring they’re covered in. It wouldn’t make sense for you to do what you did in my tent the other night if you were disgusted by me - but the worry was still there. Well, if you liked them, I couldn't wait for you to be able to feel them. To touch me.

Every second that passed without being able to touch was torturous. Back in Avernus, I longed for physical contact, but had no one I wanted to engage with. I mean, sh*t, I wasn’t desperate enough to f*ck an imp. But now, on the material plane, being in your presence every day - I feel like a creature of desire. Nothing else - just feral. We better come across Dammon soon.

“Your body is mighty and imposing, yes, but your eyes - they are soft,” Lae’zel replied. “Soft like Shadowheart’s, no matter her sour attitude. They beg for direction, for loss of control.”

“Have you never heard of a switch ?” Shadowheart asked, lacking her usual bite.

My ears perked up at Shadow’s question to Lae. I was nowhere near innocent - I nearly shagged anything with a pulse during my teen years, but I missed out on a lot of the lingo. Never really got to figure out what I liked. I just knew what felt good - soft wet things and thick hard things. I may have struggled to slow down enough to experiment.

“A switch? A slender, flexible shoot cut from a tree?” Lae asked. Shadowheart facepalmed and sighed.

“A switch is someone who enjoys being both dominant and submissive. Someone capable of taking both roles,” You were informing Lae'zel, but your gaze lingered on me.

“I see. Well, that certainly does not apply to me. I neither submit nor beg - I only command. I only take .” Lae'zel crossed her arms.

“What happens if the parties involved with each other are both ‘switches’?” I muttered awkwardly.

“Whatever you want to happen.” You answered me with a mischievous grin, and I could've foamed at the mouth. And you thought I was the one driving you crazy.

“I'll keep that in mind.”

Getting Nere’s head was fun. We blew up the rubble that had barricaded him behind some door in the middle of the old forge, just for him to be a proper douche when he came out. You ended up calling him weak, which was very true, and that pissed him off enough to start a fight. I’d chucked a few of the duergar into the lava pits that surrounded us while you’d whispered some creepy sh*t to him, and boy oh boy did I realize just how much I hate the smell of burning flesh. I got so used to it in Avernus - it was inevitable. Cooked skin, piss, sh*t and blood is all that filled the stifling air. Maybe that’s why my nose had become so sensitive to smells - everything smells so potent on the material plane. Especially you.

Lae’zel took out the rangers with her bow - knocked their weapons right off of ‘em, then Shadowheart tapped them with her light. The two together are pretty lethal alone - but the four of us together are unstoppable. You’d been shivering with a bit of… excitement when you sawed Nere’s head off with your dagger. I offered to help knowing it’d be done quickly with one fling of my axe, but I don’t think you heard me - so I just stood beside you and let you do your little murdery thing.

The mushroom dudes were over the moons to see Nere’s head in your hand when we returned. We avenged their children, and it was wonderful. They all gathered around you and started waving their spongy bodies as they sang in unison, a celebratory dance of sorts. I was getting ready to boogie down myself until I saw you start to move - took my f*cking breath away.

You’d raised your arms and swayed your body slowly, your eyes closed and your sinfully curved hips rolling as you hummed along to their song. Even Shadow and Lae started to wiggle, but I couldn’t take my eyes from your twisting, whirling frame - so fluid. You were so alarmingly beautiful when you let go, and you’d been the only person who could make my restless soul go still.

We made it back to camp shortly after. I’d changed into my camp clothes, and I went straight for Halsin - that tree of an elf knows how to cook. I liked Halsin - he was pretty cool, made us meals and kept our camp clean, but he was starting to irk me with the way he’d eyed you every time we got back from our tasks of the day. He might be bigger than me, but I could still wrestle him down if I needed to. Even in his bear form. Now I need to give that a try - wonder how I'd bring that up to him.

As I scarfed down my food outside of my tent and thought about wrestling a bear, I watched you chat with Astarion. I struggled to understand your relationship with him. He’d killed you twice, and though you seemed to be forgiving of that, I was not. He had a lot of proving to do, but it wasn’t my place to tell you who you should or shouldn’t be in cahoots with. You glanced over at me from across the camp, and then you said something to the vamp. Seconds after, you were coming my way. I quickly fixed my posture and crossed my legs, the rug beneath me scratchy against my calves.

“Hey Karly,” you murmured, stopping just a few feet before me, looking down into my eyes. You were wearing some grey shorts and a tight tank top to match. f*ck, you looked good.

“Hey, you. Sit.” I patted the rug beside me, and I grinned as I watched you sit down beside me. See? I can be dominating.

“Enjoying your meal?” You asked. I looked down at my dish - Halsin had made another mushroom stew over some potatoes. Tasted nice, but I missed meat. I took a bite and nodded.

“Good stuff,” I said with a mouth full. “Want a bite?”

“Sure,” You answered. You leaned closer. Oh - I think I’m supposed to feed you now. Oh, Gods, I hope I don’t spill it on you.

I swallowed and used the little fork to cut a piece of potato. I stabbed the piece, and I balanced the dish on my thigh as I carefully moved the fork to your mouth. You opened your mouth and smiled a bit before you wrapped your lips around the fork, and when I pulled it away, you licked them. Yay, I didn’t spill. I don’t know why, but the fact that your tongue was purple excited me - I loved to see it. Purple and red look good together. Eh? Suddenly, I felt a wet warmth drip down my leg.

“Karlach - your food,” You said, and I yanked my eyes from your mouth to look down where you were looking. f*ck, the dish fell.

“sh*t,” I groaned with a leg dripping in stew, and you got up. No - don’t go yet.

“I’ll find something to clean you up with. Don’t move,” You said, and I nodded.

You went into my tent, and I instantly remembered how trashed I’d left it this morning. Embarrassed, I cleaned up the spilled stew and shot up before I followed you inside, shutting the flap behind me.

“I’m sorry about the mess, I kinda throw things around and then forget,” I mumbled.

“Like my underwear ?” You asked, and I tensed.

Your underwear from the night before sat right beside my pillow - very obviously not where it had landed when you’d kicked it off the other night. Hells. Please don’t ask why they’re there.

“Yeah, uh, things got tossed around,” I coughed and crossed my arms. You smirked.

“I see. Well, is there anything in here you don’t mind getting dirty?” You asked.

You, I thought .

“The shirt over there. It’s torn up anyway, I’ll just chuck it after,” I said, pointing to an old top in the corner. You bent over when you grabbed it, and the bottom of your ass cheeks poked out from the material of your shorts. They spread when you grabbed the shirt, and I could see the shape of your lips below - the seam of the shorts cutting in. Good f*cking Gods, your puss* looked supple. Mm. Wait - were you even wearing anything underneath? Didn't look like it.

“Here you go,” You said, and you tossed the shirt to me when you turned around. I caught it and wiped my leg clean quickly, then threw the shirt away.

“Thanks. Sorry for being such an oaf,” I huffed.

“Haven't I told you already? Oafs are just my type.” You took a few steps closer to me.

“Oh, yeah, that's right,” I chuckled. Still can't believe you're flirting with me.

“Uh, hey - I wanted to thank you, by the way. For getting me out of the water earlier. I know I've been a handful, and I wish I could explain the things that have been happening, but I really don't know how to.”

Your face softened with remorse, and all I wanted to do was press you to my chest, wrap my arms around you and squeeze the sadness out of you. I wanted to soothe you so badly. You needed it as much as I did.

“You don't need to explain anything to me, Callie. Unless you want to, of course. I'll always save you. I only regret that I burned you in the process. I can't even begin to explain how sorry I am for that.”

“I’d rather burn to my bones than be rescued by any other,” You said. Fire rushed through my veins. Before I could respond, you spoke again. “Why are you so kind to me, Karlach?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I think I’m much more of a monster than any of us could have foreseen,” You said, and your brows pulled together.

“Well - monsters are just my type then, I suppose,” I chuckled. You smiled and looked down at your feet.

“You really aren’t upset with me? For the way I’ve acted towards you specifically? I’ve been blatantly careless around you, letting my perversions get the better of me and not having the strength to care how it affects you,” You said.

I watched you saw a guy's head off today, nearly drown, mentally dominate a slaver and make him kill himself, dance with mushrooms, and now you’re in my tent worried about teasing me too much? Oh, I can’t wait to get my hands on you.

“Am I supposed to be offended that you’re admitting to having no control of yourself because of me? ” I smirked. “Listen - I’m a big girl, baby. I can take it. I’d tell you if I couldn’t.”

Your deep bluish cheeks turned purple, and your nostrils flared as you took a deep breath in. My eyes slithered down to your chest, admiring how taut your tank top was against your breasts. I could see the outline of your nipples, and I wanted to watch them harden.

“You make it really difficult to have a serious conversation. Do you know that?” You murmured, your sweet voice low.

“I can hardly focus around you. So, yeah - I do know.”

“You told me I was f*cked,” You mentioned.

“I did.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that the moment I have this engine cooled, there will be nothing in the entire world that could pull me out of you, ” I said, and your lips parted. I had no idea how to do this, but you seemed to enjoy it when I blurted the most outrageous thoughts I had about you. Well - not the most. These only scratched the surface.

“I want to kiss every freckle on your skin,” You whispered. “I want to trace the curve of your horn. I want to bruise you with my lips, sink my fingers into your warmth. I want to taste you so badly, Karlach, that I taste myself and pretend it’s you. ”

“I do too, ” I admitted - the flitting image of you tasting yourself last night making me groan. “I wonder if you taste as good as you smell, and if you do, how I’ll ever stop devouring you. I’m f*cking starving for a mouthful of you.”

“ Gods, I need you, ussta sssiks,” You whined.

“Need you too, Little Spider. What do I have to do to get you to tell me what that means?”

“Tell me why my panties are by your pillow,” You said I bit my lip.

“No,” I answered. You laughed quietly. “How about this instead?”

I brought my thumbs to my sleep shorts, and boldly, slowly, I pulled the front of them down a few inches - exposing the area of skin above my center. Your chest stilled as you watched, and your gaze didn’t break from the spot when you spoke so quietly.

“ Oh, yes, ” You finally breathed, and you dropped to your knees. I instinctively took a step back. sh*t.

“Lower,” You requested, your eyes heavy with need. I was about to lose it with you on your knees like this, but I needed to know what you were saying. I was determined. I took a deep breath.

“Tell me what it means,” I rumbled.

“My sun, ” You purred. “ Please. Let me see. Lower. ”

If I had a heart, it’d be soaring out of my chest.

“Mmnh, I can’t, ” I said between shaky breaths, quickly pulling the shorts back up. My flames turned blue, and I hadn’t even noticed. The heat - it started to hurt, and I could see how you’d winced from it at this proximity. This is getting too dangerous. Gotta stop.

“sh*t, I’m sorry, baby. You gotta go. ”