Adrift - Tumblr Posts

Peter Parker is initially targeted as a means to ensure cooperation by Tony Stark. This eventually spurs into something different, and the spider is caught by someone much worse than his original kidnapper. Peter's a very popular target when it comes to kidnapping, and somehow, Tony Stark must find a way to get his kid back after multiple subsequent kidnappings.

Disclaimer: I own nothing (except for my plot)!

@whumptober2021

WIP/snippet sunday

thanks so much for the tag, @nyx-knox! here's a little preview from the next chapter of adrift.

i think almost everyone has been tagged, so apologies if any of you already have! and as always, no pressure~ @elinorbard, @inkymoonbunny, @shewhowas39, @xxnashiraxx

WIP wednesday!

tagged by the lovely @nyx-knox! 💕 thank you!

distracting myself from the horrors of the upcoming chapter of adrift by focusing on a later, far more lightheaded bit of mischief. shoutout to the five seconds ysera was going to have levels as a bard before i made her a pure sorcerer. she is cringe, but she is free.

tagging: @verbenaa, @xxnashiraxx, @elinorbard, @roguishcat, and @shewhowas39, and @atsadi-shenanigans!

Adrift : Chapter 6 - Into the Ocean

pairing: Astarion/f!Tav | Astarion/f!OC rating: 18+ MDNI word count: 6.2k tags/warnings: friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, smut chapter tags/warnings: mentions of trauma, manipulation, dissociation ────────── chapter summary: Astarion shushes her with nothing more than a finger over her lips. She leans into his touch without realizing it, and her eyes flutter closed. “You'll just have to trust me on that one,” Astarion insists. “You're not the monster you seem to think you are, love.” And for once, in the stillness of this moment, there is only, mercifully, him. No voices, no lingering doubts. No fear. AO3 ┊ masterlist | series masterlist

They've made camp in the abandoned village that lies between the Grove and the goblin camp, taking advantage of the beds they find and the buildings that are still standing.

Bed or not, Ysera's spent another night tossing and turning, caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness that's left her yawning and rubbing at her eyes as she, Astarion, and Shadowheart comb through upturned furniture and half-destroyed homes for anything of value they can use in a fight. The last time they came through they were too busy dealing with the half-dozen goblins and their ogre entourage to do much more than pocket a few bottles of wine and scraps of food before they made their way into the swamp to kill the hag.

Wyll, Gale, Karlach, and Lae’zel are somewhere on the other side of the village; better to split up and cover more ground, they had all agreed. 

As they pick over the remains of someone's kitchen, Astarion spots a hatch buried under an old cabinet. They're all too weak to lift it, so in lieu of Karlach's strong muscles and heavy axe, Ysera conjures a bolt of fire to disintegrate it. Sweeping the cinders away with her boot, she lifts the hatch and the three of them descend into the darkness below.

They can all see well enough, but Ysera speaks the incantation for Dancing Lights and illuminates the tiny cellar with a faint glow of pale blue light. There isn't much left besides a few rows of mostly empty shelves and barrels full of spoiled carrots, but they pocket whatever isn't already destroyed or rotten.

Shadowheart is the first to climb the ladder back up to the ground floor, complaining about the dust that's irritating her nose and causing her to sneeze profusely. Ysera's right behind her, but as her lights circle overhead, she catches sight of something that piques her interest.

Tucked away on top of an old desk is a small chest, sealed with a lock that glimmers in the magicked light. Upon closer inspection, the lock is worn but not completely rusted through, and the promise of potential treasure has her reaching into her pockets to fish out the thieves tools she tucked away before.

She could (and probably should) ask Astarion to do it for her. He's so much better at these sorts of things, but doing so would mean actually having to talk to him. She's been not so subtly avoiding him for the past three days, ever since the night he propositioned her. She's too embarrassed to pretend she's not interested. Ysera's never been good at deception, and that's without considering she'd be trying to lie to a man who can quite literally hear the way her heart would flutter and her pulse would quicken.

And so, she slips the picks into the lock and begins to test the pins, brows knit in concentration as she fumbles through the movements.

She feels Astarion behind her before he speaks, her body tensing at the sudden proximity of him.

“Oh, what's this?” he drawls in that infuriatingly mischievous tone of his. “Trying to keep all the goodies for yourself, are we? How scandalous.”

She's thankful her back is to him so Astarion can't see the frustration on her face.

“Not exactly,” Ysera sighs, still struggling with the lock. “I don't even know what's in here. If only I could get this damn thing open, then I could –”

Her heart leaps into her mouth when Astarion invades her space, chest pressed against the curve of her spine as his arms slip over her shoulders and his hands glide over her wrists.

“You're trying too hard to brute force it, darling,” he murmurs against her ear, fingers caressing the backs of her knuckles as he takes her hands in his. They're so much larger than hers, completely capturing them as he guides her movements with subtle flicks of his wrists.

Ysera feels the first pin lock into place with his assistance before Astarion moves onto the second. Her pulse drums loudly in her ears, mouth dry as she swallows thickly. The scent of him is rich and earthy, filling her nostrils with every deep breath she takes in a futile attempt to keep her composure. If Astarion notices – and he must notice the effect he has on her – he pays it no mind.

Another pin clicks into place. Only two more remain.

“See?” Astarion instructs, conducting her movements with precision. “You must be delicate. Gentle.”

She's hardly paying attention, but she nods anyway. She's trembling when she mutters a hasty, “O-okay,” squeezing her eyes shut. The last two pins slide into place before she realizes it, and the lock pops open with an audible click. But Astarion is no longer interested what's inside the chest. Instead, he sets his hands on the desk on either side of her, using the extra leverage to press the full length of his body against her. His breath is cool as it fans out across her neck, making her shiver with more than just anticipation.

"I can't help but notice that you've been keeping me waiting, darling,” Astarion says matter-of-factly. “Playing coy will only get you so far.”

Ysera opens her mouth to say something, then thinks better of it. She can't think straight when he's this close, flush against her and forcing her hand. Her voice comes out less firm than she intends when she says, “Well, Astarion, has it ever crossed your mind that maybe I just don't –”

“No,” he interjects, and Ysera doesn't need to see his face because she can hear the overconfidence dripping in his tone.

Insufferable bastard.

“You can lie to yourself,” he says coolly, “but not to me. I know what you want.” His hands settle over hers again, thumbs tracing idle patterns over her skin. “What you need. And I can give it all to you. You only have to ask.”

Ysera twists around to face him so her back is against the desk, narrowing her eyes. It's an immensely stupid idea, because the moment she meets his gaze, all sharp edges and practiced seduction, the brunt of her anger is smothered like a dying fire.

“And how is it, exactly, that you know what I need?”

Ysera doesn't know how she manages to maintain eye contact with him, issuing a bold challenge as she lifts her chin and sets her jaw. Astarion merely laughs at her little display, clearly more amused than intimidated.

She's stubborn. Astarion will enjoy humbling her.

“Why, your body's already given you away,” he says, eyes tracing a slow, purposeful path across her face and down her throat. “I could feel it when I was getting lost in your neck. Your little… shakes of excitement.”

He watches Ysera swallow thickly, her hands gripping the desk just a little too tightly for it to be casual.

“You think I enjoyed it?”

“Oh, no, darling. I know.”

The pink in Ysera's cheeks spreads down her neck, telling Astarion all he needs to know. He exposes his fangs in a wide grin, leaning forward just enough so that his mouth is hovering mere inches above her own.

If she lets him kiss her now, the game is over. They both know it. Ysera's eyes flutter closed and she breathes deep, resigned to letting Astarion make the decision for her. But just as his lips brush against her own, the sound of Shadowheart clearing her throat makes them both snap their attention towards her instead.

“I hate to interrupt,” she says sternly. “Actually, no, I don't, but is this really the time for such a thing? The others will be looking for us if we don't get back, and I am not telling everyone that the two of you are shacking up in some dusty cellar.”

She wrinkles her nose and grimaces at them both, clearly unimpressed. Ysera gets the feeling that she's scolding them like misbehaving children, which only makes this all the more humiliating.

“Then don't,” Astarion scoffs, unfazed. “Tell them we were waylaid by goblins and you fled in terror. We'll look so much more heroic when we miraculously reappear.”

Ysera is absolutely mortified when Shadowheart groans and rolls her eyes. “Do whatever you will. Just leave me out of it.” She ascends the ladder without further comment, making a statement by dropping the hatch closed behind her. 

The cellar is silent for a moment as Ysera and Astarion separate.

“I think she's jealous, don't you?” Astarion says, laughing in delight when Ysera reprimands him with a glare. He's all fangs and smug satisfaction, matching her energy with a sly wink before he strides past Ysera towards the ladder that leads back upstairs.

“Have it your way, darling,” Astarion says dismissively, taking the rungs in his hands as he begins to climb. “There are worse places I could have had you.”

Ysera blinks at him in disbelief, embarrassment, anger, and desire warring for supremacy within her mind. She watches him leave, remembering the unlocked chest at the last second as she retrieves her lockpicks and tucks them securely in her bag.

When she flips up the lid to take a look inside, she groans loudly before slamming it shut once more.

The chest is completely empty.

——————————————

There's a small lake not too far from where they decide to make camp for the evening, close enough that they'll reach the goblin camp early the next day, but not so close that they may end up attracting any unwanted attention before sunrise. After a day of hiking through the summer heat, Ysera's more than ready for a bath.

The lake is concealed behind a small grove of trees, giving her the first real moments of privacy she's had since their little adventure began. The water is cold as it laps against her shoulders, washing away the dirt and grime gathered on her skin. She's waded out just far enough to submerge herself, but not quite far enough to lose her footing. Even though the water here is calm, it doesn't change the fact that she still can't swim, and she's already avoided drowning once before.

The bar of soap she bought from the hag back at the Grove is surprisingly nice, lathering against her skin and smelling of lavender. Ysera scrubs her body clean and does what she can with her hair, relatively satisfied by the time she tosses it back into her pack on the shore. She returns to the water, simply content to relax as long as she can before whatever comes tomorrow. 

Ysera pinches the bridge of her nose and dunks her head back beneath the water. She tries opening her eyes but can't see much beyond the faint moonlight that illuminates the lake, and even then it disperses just below the surface. When she pops back up, the sight of Astarion watching her from the shore makes her sputter and frantically cover herself.

“There you are,” he says, as calmly as ever.

“Astarion!” Her voice cracks around the syllables of his name, betraying her embarrassment. “What are you doing out here?”

“You were taking an awfully long time, darling,” he points out, hands crossed nonchalantly over his chest. “Given recent events, I thought it best to make sure we didn't need to involve Withers. Can you believe he wants so much gold for a simple resurrection? What a creature like that even wants with coin is beyond me…”

“I'm fine,” Ysera assures him, offering him an apologetic smile. “Thanks for worrying about me.”

“You've got it all wrong,” Astarion corrects her with a wave of his hand. “It's my coin purse I'm concerned for, not you.”

“Uh-huh,” she says dismissively, rolling her eyes even though she's still smiling at him. “Well, I won't be long, so rest easy knowing your gold is safe.”

“Actually, I think I'd rather join you,” Astarion says, untucking the hem of his shirt from his trousers. When her flicks his gaze to her face, his mischievous smile is unmistakable. “If you don't mind, of course.”

“What?” Ysera sputters, flustered. “Here? Now?”

“Yes, of course,” Astarion replies, as if he hasn't just suggested something scandalous, lifting his shirt over his head and tossing it into the grass. “Unless there are any other conveniently located lakes around here suitable for bathing?”

She watches his hands settle over his laces as he waits for her to agree to his proposition. When Ysera nods and beckons him to join her, Astarion makes quick work of them, shimmying out of his pants as Ysera turns her back to give him some privacy. The last thing she wants is to be caught gawking at him.

With his clothing discarded, Astarion wades out into the lake, clenching his teeth as the icy water bites into his already frigid body. “Don't worry,” he tells her, catching her attention when she glances back at him over her shoulder. Hand over his heart, he says, “I'm not here for anything untoward, I assure you. Just a bath. You've made it more than clear you aren't interested in anything beyond my company.”

Ysera knows he's calling her bluff, daring her to admit to herself that she doesn't want him. There's something conflicting her – this much Astarion knows – although he can't begin to imagine what that might be. If only Shadowheart hadn't intervened before…

“I'm not entirely sure that's true,” Ysera says suddenly, much to Astarion's surprise. He turns towards her and cocks an inquisitive brow, prompting her to continue.

“Listen,” she says with a resigned sigh. Her expression is grim when she looks across the water at him. “I want to. I do. You're very… let's say, persuasive.”

She's finally admitted it, but the somber tone she's taken doesn't exactly suggest she's enthusiastic about the idea.

“It's just… it's been a long time since anyone's touched me. Like that, I mean. I don't want to hurt you.”

Astarion barks out a laugh, amusement dancing across his face even as Ysera frowns at him.

“You've nothing to worry about, darling. Your kind may be a bit, shall we say–” he pauses, searching for the correct word “– feral , but it's nothing I can't handle. Your teeth certainly aren't as sharp as mine, but I'll try anything once.”

“That's not what I meant, you ass,” Ysera grumbles, mortified by Astarion's insinuation. But the seriousness of the situation quickly sobers her, and she glances down at her upturned palms as she lifts them out of the water. She flexes her fingers and takes a deep, bracing breath.

“It's my magic. It's not always something I can command,” she explains. “It gets worse when I'm angry. Or when I…" Her cheeks go pink and warm. "Well, you get the idea. It hasn't been much of a problem yet, but it's only a matter of time until it happens.”

She refuses to look at him, unwilling to let him see the shame in her eyes. But when Astarion scoffs dramatically, she can practically hear the way his eyes roll. She forces her gaze up to meet his own.

Hands on his hips, Astarion says, “You mean to tell me that we have not one, but two ticking time bombs in our camp? How wonderful. And which goddess can I thank for your particular affliction?”

“I swear to the gods, Astarion,” Ysera deadpans. “I will electrocute you.”

Astarion shakes his head and arches his brows incredulously.

“And yourself along with me? No, darling – I don't think you will.”

Purple lightning arcs between her fingertips, illuminating the curve of her lips as she smiles a little too sweetly at him.

“Wouldn't I?”

“What are you – be careful!” he hisses, taking several large steps backwards, enough that he loses his balance and topples face first into the water. He resurfaces violently, embarrassed and grumbling under his breath like a wet cat. “Irresponsible, impossible woman. What have I done to deserve such an injustice?”

“Last I checked, you were the one courting me. You've no one to blame but yourself, darling ,” she says with a playful sneer, mimicking his preferred term of endearment.

Astarion stares at her, a deep frown marring his otherwise handsome features. He furrows his brow and scoffs, arms crossed over his bare chest as rivulets of water trickle down his neck and face. He's damn near pouting, and she revels in it.

“Irrelevant,” he mutters, turning his nose up like a petulant child. “It's hardly my fault you're being so… difficult about this.”

“I’m sorry for causing you such a terrible inconvenience by caring about your safety,” Ysera says solemnly behind an affectionate laugh. “That was very inconsiderate of me, and I promise it won't happen again.” 

The fact that he makes her laugh complicates matters even further. She isn't entirely immune to his attempts to seduce her, but it's the moments where she gets a glimpse of the man behind it all when she feels a genuine connection with him. A connection that's far more difficult to ignore than his pretty face and sultry voice.

A comfortable silence settles over them, and Astarion regards her thoughtfully for a few moments. He strides forward towards her without warning, stopping only a few paces away, close enough for Ysera to reach out and touch him if she wanted.

And she does want to. But her arms hang uselessly at her sides instead.

“You won't hurt me,” Astarion says. He says it like he's so sure, as if he hasn't seen and heard more than enough by now to know there's something inherently, irrevocably wrong with her. He says it not as though he's certain that he can protect himself, but as if that necessity won't even arise at all.

Is he arrogant, or just ignorant? He's seen her nightmares. He knows what lurks within her.

“How can you be so certain? You're not the first one who's –”

Astarion shushes her with nothing more than a finger over her lips. She leans into his touch without realizing it, and her eyes flutter closed. 

She's tired. Tired of running, tired of denying herself even the simplest of pleasures. Fear is a powerful motivator, but the only place left to run is straight into Astarion's arms. When the logical part of her brain screams at her to stop being so selfish, that it's never been about what she wants , she finally finds the strength to cast the thought away, choosing instead the low, enticing timbre of Astarion's voice as it washes over her like a soothing balm.

“You'll just have to trust me on that one,” Astarion insists. “You're not the monster you seem to think you are, love.”

And for once, in the stillness of this moment, there is only, mercifully, him. No voices, no lingering doubts. No fear.

Astarion's fingertips slide delicately beneath her chin, tipping her face up to meet her eyes, wet with tears she doesn't remember shedding. Gods, she never wanted him to see her this way. She averts her eyes, but he holds her firmly between his thumb and forefinger, compelling her not to hide from him.

“Ysera, look at me.”

There it is again, the use of her name, spoken so gently as though it might break. Reluctantly, she obeys, taking her time to drink in the sight of him as her eyes climb over the toned muscles of his chest, the solid line of his shoulders, the pinpricks on his neck that are a twin to her own where he has marked her.

At last, she gathers the courage to meet his gaze, staring up at him through the hazy sheen of tears upon her lashes.

Gooseflesh blooms over her neck and forearms, and when his expression softens, her heart almost seems to seize in her chest. It's almost as if he sees her – the real her – and not the frightened little girl she's been since the very moment she crawled from the smoldering remains of her childhood home. It should make her uncomfortable to be this exposed, but instead… she feels safe, in a way she hasn't in so long.

Drowning in the depths of his ruby irises, Ysera almost forgets to breathe. Time seems to slow as Astarion curls his fingers upwards, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. His breath fans out across her lips, beckoning her closer.

“You’re not a monster,” Astarion repeats. “Believe me, I would know.” 

The emotion in his words are enough to shatter her last line of defense, and Ysera finally gives in, letting Astarion capture her lips in a devastatingly gentle kiss. Her eyes flutter closed and she finally lets go, surrendering herself to him completely.

——————————————

The moment Astarion kisses Ysera, he feels… nothing.

Her lips are soft, and she yields so beautifully to his touch, pliant and malleable as he slides his hands down the soft curves of her hips and hooks them under her thighs. He coaxes her into his waiting arms, satisfied by the way she jumps up to wrap her legs around his waist. Ysera's lips part willingly for him when Astarion runs his tongue against the seam of her mouth, letting him taste her with as much enthusiasm as he can muster.

She must enjoy it because she throws her arms over his shoulders and kisses him back, hungry and breathless as he carries her out of the water and towards the shore. There's a patch of soft clover just beyond the trees that line the lake, and Astarion lays Ysera there amongst the leaves, sun-kissed skin damp and gleaming in the moonlight.

She smiles kindly at him, golden eyes blazing with desire. He lets her card her fingers through his damp curls as he swings a leg over her hips, bracketing her body beneath him. Her touch is exploratory and almost shy, featherlight as she maps the broad planes of his shoulders and chest. When he's let her indulge for long enough, he sets himself back upon her, drinking in the soft little moans that tumble past her open mouth.

It's a strange feeling, to choose to do something his body has no desire for. And yet the decision was his and his alone, one made freely for what must be the first time in more years than he cares to count. It feels good to choose, he tells himself. This feels good.

So as his mind begins to drift and his body settles into familiar routines, the revulsion surging within him suddenly feels substantially less significant.

One more. What is the burden of one more soul against the weight of thousands? Against his freedom?

He may not know the particular rhythm of her body, but he will learn it quickly enough. Desire is a language he knows well, so fluent that it may as well be his native tongue. A quick dance of fingers across her stomach has Ysera arching her back and inhaling sharply; she exhales with a trembling whimper in response to the trail of open-mouthed kisses he leaves across her throat and between her collar bones.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against her skin, voice rumbling against the junction of her neck. “You are positively breathtaking, darling.”

“So’re you,” she says back, giddy with laughter. “I've never…” she bites her lip, “never seen anyone as handsome as you.” Her words are half slurred through the haze of her desire, but she manages.

Astarion fixes Ysera with a practiced smile, letting her catch a glimpse of his fangs. He knows she's more than fond of them by now, another asset he can use to his advantage. She responds as eagerly as he had intended, wetting her lips with a swipe of her tongue as her eyes swirl like molten honey.

“Do you know what the best part is?” he asks her. Ysera shakes her head softly. Her heart thunders wildly in her chest, breaths becoming shallow as Astarion’s hands glide tantalizingly over her bare skin. He pinches the taut bud of one of her nipples between his fingers and Ysera cries out in pleasure, writhing beneath him.

“The best part is that no one else will ever know. None of them will have the pleasure of seeing you like this. Will they, darling?”

Ysera throws her head back and bunches her hands in the clover as Astarion rolls her nipple between his fingertips, kneading at her other breast with his free hand. “N-no,” she croaks, teeth bared as she arches into his touch, completely at his mercy. “Only you.

“Very good,” he purrs, replacing his fingers with his mouth as he leans down to taste her. Her skin tastes of soap and linen, the scent of her filling his nose. With one nipple between his teeth and the other between his thumb and forefinger, Astarion lavishes her with unrivaled ecstasy, grinning against her as she moans and shudders beneath him.

“Oh… A-Astarion…!”

He recognizes the fear in her voice now, can feel the raw power coursing through her body like a raging torrent. Swept up in its current, Ysera's knuckles are bone white as she balls her fists and uproots the clover in her hands, struggling to keep her magic at bay. Her palms grow hot with flickering flames, turning the soft stems to ash.

Astarion rises and catches Ysera's wrists in his hands, pinning them gently together above her head. When her fire dissipates, his fingers thread tenderly through her own, and she seeks comfort by squeezing his hand. Tears prick the corners of her eyes.

“I'm sorry,” she says, apologetic and unwilling to look him in the eyes. “I'm sorry, I could have –”

Astarion shushes her with a firm shake of his head.

“None of that, darling,” he says, splaying his other palm over her stomach. Just enough contact to remind her what it feels like, but not enough to push her back towards the edge so soon. He waits patiently for her to look at him again, giving her hand a firm squeeze when she finally searches for his face.

“Focus on me,” Astarion commands. “On my voice.” He dips low to press a kiss against her lips. “On my mouth.” He takes the swell of her breast in his palm, cupping her gently.  “On my hands. Can you do that for me, Ysera?”

Ysera nods in assent, blinking away the last of her tears. Her heartbeat slows its wild pace, and a moment of quiet passes between them. She watches Astarion carefully, cheeks growing hot beneath the intensity of his gaze.

She looks as though she has something more to say, but Astarion swiftly breaks her train of thought by sliding his knee between her legs and coaxing them open. Ysera shudders as Astarion bares her slick core to the open air, keeping her hands obediently above her head as he settles himself between her thighs.

“I’d like to taste you, darling,” he proposes, dragging a single icy finger down the inside of her thigh. “May I?”

“Wouldn't it be better if you bit my neck?” Ysera asks innocently. “Or at least my wrist. Surely that would be more satisfying.”

The finger on her thigh halts abruptly. Astarion assesses her, dumbfounded when he realizes she's serious. He clears his throat and gathers his composure.

“I assure you it would be quite satisfying, darling. But I had something… else in mind tonight.” Astarion spreads Ysera's legs wide, the evidence of her arousal more than apparent. His eyes flick from the space at the apex of her thighs to meet her own, a sultry smirk affixed on his lips.

“As much as I enjoy your blood, I've been thinking about how sweet the rest of you must be.”

The sound of Ysera's heart is music to Astarion's ears as she finally understands.

“Oh,” she says shyly, her face still such a fetching shade of scarlet. “Nobody's ever done that to me before.”

Astarion's brows lift in surprise. “Never? Oh, darling,” he drawls, voice tapering into a growl. “I am going to ruin you. ”

Ysera doesn't breathe as Astarion descends between her thighs, propping himself on his elbow as the other hand grips her tightly. Her whole body trembles as his breath ghosts over her slick core, a whimper caught behind her teeth before he's even touched her.

Astarion laughs softly, gazing up at her as she watches him intently. “You're practically soaking for me, aren't you? Let me show you what you've been missing.”

The moment Astarion sweeps his tongue through her slick folds and across Ysera's aching clit, she releases the breath she's been holding in a high-pitched moan, toes curling as she draws one leg up and writhes against him.

“Oh,” she says again, voice stretched thin. “Oh, Astarion, that's good. Don't stop. Gods, don't you dare stop.”

He's barely even touched her and already she's praising him. He knows he's good, but he barely even has to try now before she's been reduced to a babbling, incoherent mess, murmuring his name like a desperate prayer as her hips undulate with every pass of his tongue against her.

When her hands reach for him again, Astarion starts suddenly and pulls away, just beyond her grasp. Ysera's golden eyes flicker with confusion as she stares at him between her legs, the expression on his face clearly troubling her.

“Astarion?” she asks, so sweetly that it makes his stomach turn. “Did I do something wrong?”

The roiling tide of thoughts within his mind subsides, and Astarion clears his head with a shake of his alabaster curls.

“No, darling,” he lies, convincingly enough that she seems to believe him. “I was merely caught up in the moment. Were you enjoying yourself?”

“Uh-huh,” Ysera admits quietly, settling her arms back at her sides. “I want you to keep going… if that's all right with you.”

The softness in her eyes stirs something within him and Astarion immediately looks away, busying himself between her legs again.

They never ask what he wants. They're not supposed to ask what he wants . 

The sound of Ysera's cries make it easier for him to let go, to imagine that she's no different than the rest of his lovers, taking advantage of the skills he's honed across two centuries of practice. Astarion works her with his tongue, circling her clit, pressing flat against her entrance, teasing her ever closer towards the precipice. He considers sliding his fingers inside her slick heat to prepare her for his cock, but after what happened earlier he decides against risking the overstimulation.

His thoughts are elsewhere when Ysera's thighs begin to shake; she's close, the desperate little noises she's making only confirming what Astarion already knows. She comes with a shout, tail thrashing through the clover as a ragged cry tears her throat raw. Her chest heaves with each breath she takes, her entire body trembling as Astarion continues to lick and suckle on her tender bundle of nerves.

“Gods,” she groans, legs straightening as she stretches out. “That was incredible.”

Astarion sits up on his calves, wiping her slick from his lips with the back of his hand.

“A pity that I was your first,” Astarion says smugly. “I've set your standards unreasonably high.”

Ysera huffs and rolls her eyes. “Normally I'd say you were overestimating yourself as usual, but you know what?” she says, head lolling back against the soft earth beneath her exhausted body. “I think you're right.”

She lifts her head when she hears Astarion shifting slightly, palms braced on her knees as he wraps a hand around his cock and gives himself a few quick jerks. It's the first time she's actually gotten a decent look at it, and the sight of the pink tip emerging from the top of his fist with each pump of his hand nearly makes her mouth water.

“Let me fuck you,” Astarion says, the head of his cock catching on the entrance of her dripping cunt as he lines himself up. “Let me remove any lingering doubts you still have about my capability in bed.”

He might not be her first lover, but he will be the best she's ever had. Of that, he is more than certain. After tonight, she'll be wrapped around his finger.

“If I said I didn't have any, would you do it anyway?” she asks, flashing him a coy smile. Astarion slides his hands beneath her knees and lifts Ysera's legs, beginning to slowly sheath himself inside her. 

“Gladly, darling.”

Ysera gasps at the size of him as his cock slowly works her open, pain and pleasure intertwining with every delicious inch he pushes in. Her head falls back and she spreads her legs wide to accommodate him, hips rolling as she adjusts to the intrusion.

The cool sensation of his cock nestled within the inferno of her slick walls is unlike anything she's ever experienced before, threatening to unravel her completely by the time Astarion is fully seated inside of her.

“Fuck,” she breathes, a pleased little laugh bubbling in her throat. “You can move now. Don't make me beg.”

“Careful,” Astarion growls, teasing her with a few quick, shallow thrusts. “You're giving me such wonderful ideas.”

“Even you aren't that cruel,” Ysera quips back, breathless.

“You're right,” Astarion agrees, “I'm not.” Hands braced on the crook of Ysera's knees, he pulls himself almost completely out before slamming back inside of her, pleased by the way she immediately hisses and lets out a low, wanton moan. He fucks into her again, hard and deep, searching for the spot that will make her see stars.

Astarion knows he's found it when Ysera's back bows high and she claws at the ground beside her, desperate for something to hold onto. He angles his hips and hits the spot again and again, punching a string of oaths and whimpers from her parted lips. It doesn't take long before she's ready to come for him again, helpless to do anything but let pleasure overtake her.

“You like it like this, don't you?” Astarion grunts, pistoning into her with rough, brutal thrusts. “Who would have known that our sweet little sorcerer has such dirty little fantasies?”

“Shut up and fuck me,” Ysera groans between gasping breaths, hiding her face behind her hand to conceal her embarrassment. Astarion is more than willing to oblige her, fingers digging little crescent moons into her skin as he drives himself deep inside her.

“Ahh… Astarion, ‘m gonna…” she mumbles before long, and Astarion can feel the way her whole body tenses, a taut string ready to snap.

“Good,” he huffs, releasing one of Ysera's legs to trace lazy circles over her clit. “Come for me, darling, show me how good it feels.”

No sooner has Astarion made his demands than does Ysera come hard on his cock, the walls of her cunt fluttering and pulsing as he fucks her through her orgasm. The way she spasms and whines beneath him brings him swiftly to his own climax, and he empties himself inside her with a groan, sweat clinging to his brow as his hips stutter with the last of his erratic thrusts.

With Ysera utterly spent, Astarion withdraws from her and runs a hand through his hair, sweeping his disheveled curls out of his eyes. He watches her stretch out again with a satisfied sigh, eyes closed and a lazy smile on her face.

“Heh,” she laughs, tail swishing happily through the clover. “Wow. Consider me ruined.”

“I did warn you,” Astarion reminds her, starting to get to his feet. Ysera cracks an eye open and whines in protest, hand waving in the air as she grabs at him.

“Aw, come on. Stay,” she says, rolling over on her side. “What's the rush?” Astarion eyes her cautiously, but her request seems sincere enough, and he settles back down in the grass a few paces away, cross-legged and contemplative. 

“All right,” he says, a little more distantly than intended. “If that's what you want.”

“That's what lovers do, isn't it?” she asks, propping herself up to get a better look at him.

“I suppose they do,” Astarion agrees. “Is that what we are, darling?”

“We don't have to be. Not unless you want to.” The soberness of her voice surprises him, and Astarion feels his gaze softening as he meets her striking golden eyes. There's something disarming about the way she looks at him, her earlier concerns resurfacing.

Concerns not about her own feelings, he realizes, but his . No one has looked at him like that before. Astarion buries the cacophony of thoughts that come unbidden to his mind, uprooting his uncertainty at the source before it poisons him completely. 

No , he reminds himself. He has no time to be soft. He can use this to his advantage. No more, no less. This is the only way he can guarantee his safety. A moment's weakness could spoil everything.

So when he lets his own smile spread across his face, Astarion is nothing but confident when he says to Ysera, “I suppose that's what we are, then.”

The Anastasia was discovered adrift, nearly two hundred and fifty-eight light years from its projected path, and nearly another sixteen beyond any likely malfunction generated disturbance routes.

Anastasia was completely undamaged, found simply in power-down-mode and crewless, all one hundred six hands missing entirely. Security records came up blank, sensor webs empty of digital record keepers, ambiently powered drones that should’ve lasted a lifetime frigidly silent and inoperable for impossibly long. Anastasia was literally senseless: blind, deaf, unable to recount any reason at all to this failure.

Within a cycle of her detection the Anastasia was powered back on, retrieved, and piloted back to Hünean-Cyvolich shipyards in Guon for retrofit and repair. As of this record, the SSV-Hünean-Cyvolich Anastasia remains in operation.