Nothing new, I’m afraid. Just some stories I never posted on this site because of adult content. They’ve both been on AO3 for a long time, though. The first is Inappropriate Thoughts, where Garrus and female Shepard from my other Garrus/Shepard stories share some indecent battlefield fantasies (and then go on to enact one). The other is Morning After, where Garrus and male Shepard wake up after their first night as lovers — my one and only story featuring male Shepard, written as a gift for Logsig.
Some, or even most of the people who read my Saren/Nihlus stories, may not even be aware that I used to write Garrus/Shepard at all, even though that stuff always got far more attention from fandom at large. Perhaps this belated advert will help someone discover stories they didn’t know about and hopefully make them happy.
Image: Garrus by Angua33
CONTENT WARNING
This story includes explicit depictions of sex between two male characters. It is intended for adult audiences only.
When Garrus half-awakes to something soft, moving under his arm and cheek, the naked stomach of his Commander is not his first guess. But as he blinks into consciousness, he starts to remember. The hair is the first clue. It triggers strange, tickly sensations over the carapace on his face when he yawns, and he recalls that Shepard has that thing growing everywhere. He opens an eye and lets it graze lazily on the pale landscape of Shepard’s body. More memories surge forward, stirring something warm and deep inside him. He inches his head upstream until he catches the alien heartbeat, drumming into his healthy ear: a weird cut-time meter going ta-dam, ta-dam, ta-dam, ta-dam, and as the rhythm accelerates and the flat chest starts heaving with a growing amplitude, Garrus recalls the regular beat of their lovemaking. That does it. He lifts himself up on an elbow, finds that their legs are already conveniently entangled, and rolls his hips into Shepard’s thigh with a hot exhale.
Continue reading Morning After
CONTENT WARNING
This story includes explicit depictions of sex between a male and a female character. It is intended for adult audiences only.
Garrus steals a glance at her as she fires the shot, and when the tactical overlay on his visor tells him she’s sniped another, he can’t help the sharp hiss of appreciation. “Perfect!”
They’re both wearing helmets so he can’t see if she grinned at that or not, but it is enough to imagine her lips curling just so, telling him that the way he’s looking at her, the way he’s yearning for her, never fails to turn her on.
Continue reading Inappropriate Thoughts
My latest Mass Effect fic, Thinker Traitor Soldier Spectre (TTSS for short), is finally finished! It tells the epic story of how Saren and Nihlus first met and became friends, expanding the Codex teaser below into a novel:
After being reassigned to a new squad for the third time, Nihlus was introduced to Saren Arterius, a fellow turian and a Spectre. Saren was impressed with the young soldier. He befriended Nihlus and offered to mentor him.
Mass Effect Codex
Available for reading on AO3 and FFN, where it will be updated weekly, or here, where the work is posted completely.
Continue reading Thinker Traitor Soldier Spectre Finally Released!
Nihlus took a long shower. Real long. Half an hour, or more. It didn’t matter, while they were docked, Saren had said. They’d be leaving soon, though. They’d talk about the details later, he said. He mentioned the name of the place but Nihlus had forgotten it within five seconds. His mind was all jumbled up. He couldn’t recall that tune that had been on constant replay in his head for days, and he struggled to keep track of the damnedest things. Like whether he’d already washed under his crest or not. He looked at the soap dispenser, and—
Eventually, Saren had peeled him off and sat him down on the only chair in the room. The shakes were pretty bad, but he didn’t care. He had questions, so many questions! Only, all his language had slipped away. So he just sat there, gaping around at… his new home.
Continue reading Anchored
Saren jumped when the doorbell rang. The
setting sun painted the cockpit with dense, gold rays. Dust motes danced in
them. Saren sniffed the warm, stuffy air. There was a floral scent in it. The
glass-wiping fluid. Traces of wiping, likely no more than a molecule-thick,
fogged the main control panel when viewed in this light, from this angle. He
blinked his sticky eyes open and unglued his sweaty back from the pilot chair’s overly enthusiastic embrace with a groan. How
long had he slept? The light had been a completely different color the last
time he’d seen it.
The bell rang again. He stood up and stretched, then tapped the unlock command on the control panel. He knew who it was. The outer hatch opened, then closed; he couldn’t quite hear it from the bridge but he could feel it through the fuselage. The airlock cycle would take a few seconds. He straightened his shirt and took one last critical look around. The inner door opened when he was halfway up the stairs.
Continue reading Sanctuary