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No art for day 18 because I had to work on a commission, but for day 19, and as an additional special gift day drawing, this is a drawing of my wife @casual-necromancer 's character FL-074 (Flora)!!

#giftcember #flora #fl-074 #my art #ass effect #also happy birthday!!#eagle does stuff

Plot a course to singularity

Summary: After a long day at the helm, Joker relaxes in Shepard's cabin. Sequel to "Anytime, Jeff" Thank you to my muses/betas @commander-krios and @spaced0lphin Warning: smut Read on Ao3

Numbers. Random tidbits of sentences. Weapon charts. Strategy maps. Some more numbers, because why the fuck not.

Angela rubbed her eyes, willing the characters on her computer screen to stop jumping up and down like pyjaks on a trampoline, but the only thing she achieved was painting colorful speckles over her vision. She blinked them away, wishing she could do the same for her tiredness.

Or for Reapers.

With a sigh, she forced herself to focus on her task for a little longer. These reports were just so boring.

She’d almost managed to read a full page – an Alliance News Network report on the consequences of the Reaper invasion on pirate activity in the Terminus systems – when her cabin door sliding open gave the finishing blow to the last frayed strands of her concentration.

“Hey Jeff,” she said without turning around. He was the only person she’d instructed EDI to let inside her cabin beside herself; she didn’t need to see him to know who he was.

He shuffled inside, letting the door close behind him, and muttered a soft “hey babe”.

What time was it? She must have lost track of time reading debriefs if he was away from the helm already, which meant dinner was about to be served in the mess hall, and she hadn’t even gone through half of the reports she’d planned on tackling yet. Crap.

“Is it shift change already?” she asked, shutting down her datapad and settling it on top of an ever-rising pile of documents. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

“Uh, not really, actually. Just started early this morning, so I figured I could clock out early too. Well, EDI did.”

He sounded tired. His voice lacked his usual witty undertones, and when she finally spun around in her chair, he looked tired too. His posture was stiffer than usual, and the circles under his eyes darker. Bad pain day, she figured. With the stress of the war and the late working hours, such days had been increasing in frequency and, as much as he tried to downplay it, severity. He kept his discomfort well-hidden, but he had his tells.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his left cheek twitching slightly. The pained smirk flashed over his features for barely more than an instant before he suppressed it, but she noticed it all the same, just like she spotted the way his fist clenched inside the pocket of his baggy hoodie.

“Why do I get the feeling that she had to physically remove you from your chair?” Angela asked, getting a soft chuckle out of him. His pilot seat was practically a part of him, even more so since the reintroduction of its prized leather lining.

He crossed his arms over his chest. The glow of the aquarium reflected on his features, making his mocking frown look even more theatrical. His hair and beard, normally a rusty shade of brown, glimmered shades of blue in the soft light.

“Hey! She only had to threaten it a couple of times. Plus, she said she’d hack the heating module on it until, quote unquote, her sensors detected that my gluteal muscles were perfectly simmered.”

In one swift movement, she crossed the room and planted a gentle but firm hand on his backside.

“Oh, good thing you listened to her then. Can’t risk ruining such a perfectly good butt.” She squeezed her hand around his ass, feeling his muscles tighten and relax as he erupted with laughter.

Despite the faint light that barely lit her cabin, she was sure the hint of a blush was creeping up his neck to his cheekbones.

Still giggling under her breath, she rested her chin over his shoulder. With every breath, it rose and fell, ever so slightly. She closed her eyes. Somehow, just knowing he was still breathing made the world feel a little less overwhelming. With a sigh, he leaned closer and laid his cheek against her head.

“Wanna go have dinner?” He asked after a few moments. “I hear today’s special is rehydrated frozen vat meat, with a side of rehydrated frozen potatoes and rehydrated frozen sour cream. And if we’re lucky, we may even snack a piece of rehydrated frozen fruitcake!”

“As enticing as that sounds… I think I’ll skip,” Angela answered, massaging her temple. The beginnings of a headache were forming there, and the prospect of venturing into the noisy, bright mess hall made her feel nauseous. Judging by the tired expression on Jeff’s face and his slouched stance, he wasn’t too keen on the idea either.

Still, he made a show of arching his eyebrow and groaned in disappointment.

“You can go grab a bite if you want to, I’ll wait for you here. Or we can go later together, I’m sure Webb will use his power as a mess Sergeant to save something for us.”

He narrowed his eyes, stroking his chin in thought. “Think there are takeout restaurants that do ship-to-ship delivery round here?”

She buried her face in his hoodie and snorted. “I think we’re a few too many light years away from civilization for that.”

His reflection in the aquarium glass pouted, and his shoulders sagged a little under her chin.

“Good point,” he said with a shrug. “I’m more, uh, tired than hungry anyway.”

That was as good of an open admission of his physical discomfort as she was ever going to get from him. He’d gotten more comfortable with showing vulnerability around her, but still, old habits died hard and his fierce display of independence was the toughest of them all.

She got it. She was the same. If Jeff was a stubborn man, Angela was him and a half. Every step of her own career, she had to prove herself time and time again, living up to that lofty last name that had all but decided her path in life before her life had even begun. She proved her worth, her ideas, her tenacity. She proved her sanity when she showed the galaxy that the monsters under their beds were always real.

Hell, the point of her whole N7 training was to prove that she could survive on her own. So, sue a woman for going overboard with taking home the lesson.

Fuck yeah, she got him. Their struggles were different, but their determination was the same.

“What about this,” Angela offered. “We relax in bed for a while, then I go grab some food for the both of us, and we eat it in bed?”

“Like the filthy animals that we are?”

“Yup. Exactly like the filthy animals that we are. So, what do you say about that?”

He giggled and wrapped one arm around her. “I say that’s the best fucking plan I’ve ever heard.”

Jeff groaned as he sat down on the foot of the bed and knelt down to untie his boots (he wasn’t that filthy of an animal to keep his shoes on in bed). Damn, he was sore.

Know what would be heaven right now? A hot bath.

One of those fancy ones they showed in Illium hotels commercials, with bubbles and rose petals and scented soaps. With water that stayed perfectly warm the whole time, that he could enjoy while lying down, closing his eyes and letting the jet streams work their magic on his tender muscles.

With a very naked Angela playing with bath bombs next to him, of course.

Knowing her, though, the bombs would actually explode.

Scratch that, a hot shower will do.

Later, though. He had an appointment with Shepard, her bed, and some food first.

He toed off his boots and socks, and felt the mattress shift under Angela’s weight as she settled behind him. She rested her hands on his shoulders and started rubbing circles at the base of his neck.

He sighed – that felt good – and tilted his head to give her easier access to the worst of his tension knots. A pleasant heat radiated from where her fingers kneaded his achy muscles, applying just enough pressure to ease the tightness in them without hurting him. He hummed, and she leaned closer to land delicate kisses between his shoulder and his neck.

“You like that?” She whispered, her voice soft and husky in his ear.

Liked that was a massive understatement, but his brain and his tongue were working on different wavelengths tonight and he wasn’t sure there were enough words in the human language to tell her exactly how close to his melting point she was taking him.

They said heaven was a place beyond the clouds, and here, lost between the stars and her miraculous touch, he was inclined to believe it.

“Hm-mmmh,” he moaned, and fought against the torpor that was taking over his limbs to raise a hand and take her fingers in his, bringing them closer to his lips to let his kisses speak on his behalf.

She untangled her fingers from his and reached forward to fiddle with the buttons of his uniform shirt.

“Wha-” he questioned her, but she shushed him and kept working on undoing the buttons.

“Just relax and let me take care of you.”

And so he did. He didn’t have it in him to protest, and why would he want to stop her anyway? She finally reached the last button and pulled the lower hem of his shirt out of his pants, kissing his neck as she leaned forward. He let her pull his shirt off, and the wave of trite insecurities that barged into his mind, violently pushing against the soft bliss, gave him his answer.

He fought the familiar urge of wrapping his arms around himself, of pulling away from her touch, tithing beneath the bedsheet to cover himself from her eyes. He wanted her, and most importantly she wanted him. She’d seen his naked body dozens of times already and, if the usual passion of her lovemaking was any indicator, she fucking loved it.

And loved fucking it.

He snickered to himself. Thinking of Angela's freely bouncing breasts did wonders to push nasty feelings away.

Her arms, those strong, battle-scarred arms that counted as a lethal weapon on their own, were delicate as a feather as they wrapped around his bare torso, pulling him closer to her body. He closed his eyes and leaned back against her, letting her engulf him with her kisses and caresses and love.

She buried her fingers in his hair, brushing through it and gently massaging his scalp, and oh my god is this what happiness feels like?

The sensation was so overwhelming that he almost didn’t realize tears were freely rolling down his cheeks. She silently wiped them away with one light touch.

“Come here and lay face down,” Angela instructed him, moving further up on the bed. He obliged, and she straddled him, supporting her own weight with her legs planted down on either side of his hips. She began to knead his back, starting from his neck and shoulders and moving further down, pressing and rubbing her thumbs in circles around his spine and rolling the heels of her palms towards his sides.

“Oh my gahwd” he moaned into his pillow, and folded his arms under his chin as her gentle but firm hands instructed him to do.

She giggled and kept working the side of her palms between his shoulder blades. “How am I doing?”

He managed to recall his brain from the seventh heaven where it was currently residing to give her a muffled “please, never ever stop.”

“Doing what?” Her fingertips traced the thin, pale surgical scar that ran almost the whole length of his spine, and her hot breath tickled his skin as she leaned close to place kisses where it started, a few inches below his shoulders.

“Doing what you do,” he answered her as her hands moved towards his lower back, right where his muscles were sorest. “Not just being the sexy badass hero type, I mean. Doing… this. Being you. With me.”

She went quiet for a few seconds, and her touch grew lighter. “Thank you for letting me be me,” she finally said. “With you.”

Awkwardly, he rolled onto his back and placed his hands on her waist. Outside the window, blue flashes of mass effect fields framed her silhouette like a halo; bathed in starlight, she was a celestial body herself, eternal and astonishingly beautiful.

There were a thousand words he wanted to tell her, a hundred declarations of love, but all his lips could do was meet hers and kiss her until they were both gasping for air, running their hands over each other’s body, jostling with zippers and buttons and too many layers of clothing, until there was nothing between them but desire and adoration.

Ice blue eyes meeting his, she guided him inside her to ride him under the blanket of stars. Her hips moved with maddening slowness, her open palms pressing slightly on his chest in a silent appeal to let her set the pace.

The pale glisten of distant suns bled through the window, bathing her in celestial light. It caressed her milky skin, accentuating the geometry of the almost imperceptible reconstruction scars, the pattern of thin wrinkles around her eyes, the dimples on her cheeks, like an artist’s brush strokes on a painted canvas.

She was a sight to silence the heavens.

She increased her rhythm and leaned in close to him, smirking as she bit her lower lip. Thin beads of sweat were rolling down her forehead, glistening in the dim light. He followed one with his finger, tracing its path, trailing his fingertip down her cheek to trace the contour of her lower lip, and continuing his exploration on her chin.

Her body was an uncharted galaxy, and he was a sailor, wandering across her expanse, tracing star charts on her skin.

She tilted her head back, exposing her neck. He kissed it, her sweaty skin salty on his tongue, while his thumb kept exploring her bare chest. He found one erect nipple and pinched it between his fingertips, driving a moan out of her parted lips. He cupped his other hand around her breast, squeezing it in his palm, reveling in the way her torso arched back in response.

A few more droplets of sweat trailed from under her breast over her toned belly. He followed them too, circling her navel, moving slower and slower as he brushed his fingertips over her lower abdomen. Her breaths grew faster, coming out in grunts as she bounced her hips up and down around his cock.

His own heartbeat pounded in his ears as he traced one last line on her star chart, teasing her, taking him closer to the center of her galaxy. He finally reached it and parted her folds, exposing her clit to his fingertips and expertly rubbing it.

A low, guttural sound rose from her throat, accompanying her raspy breaths.

He circled his thumb around the swollen nub and stroked it with the tip of his index finger, and her head tilted back, eyes closed and mouth wide open, as if to drink the starlight pouring over her.

Her gravitational pull was almost impossible to resist now, he was riding his event horizon, one stroke, one moan away from giving in completely to this force he could never hope, nor want to escape.

She was riding him faster, harder now, her groans almost feral. With a grunt, he quickened his pace as he brought her closer and closer to her edge.

Gravitational singularity caught them both together. He came with a moan as her walls squeezed his cock, her pleasure-enraptured face and a halo of stars all he could see. Her thighs quivered against his hips and he squeezed her breast, inches above his own chest, while her fists curled around the sheets next to his shoulders.

He kept rubbing her clit until her fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling him away from her sensitive spot.

“Stop,” she panted, “Stop. Too… much.” She tightened around him to punctuate her statement, and waves of aftershock washed over his body. He shuddered, the sensation so intense his brain almost couldn’t make sense of it.

Always gentle despite her ragged breaths and trembling muscles, Angela lowered herself to rest on top of him, laying her head close to his face to plant delicate kisses on his flushed cheek. He wrapped his arms around her, caressing her back while her fingers curled into the sweaty mess of his hair, brushing through it.

The stars above watched over them as their hearts and breaths slowed down, as their limbs grew heavy, and the post-orgasmic bliss gave way to a fond tranquil haze.

“So.” When Jeff finally broke the silence, his voice came out as a croaky rasp. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Think Webb saved us something for dinner?”

Angela giggled in his ear. Her breath was a warm breeze caressing his neck. “You are terrible.”

“I know,” he answered, trailing his fingers down her spine, “I always am when I’m hungry.”

#My first smut!#of course it's Shoker #Shoker #smut #angela shepard x jeff joker moreau #jeff joker moreau #commander shepard #Angela shepard #my writing #mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #mass effect smut #mass erect #ass effect

So my partner and I have been playing mass effect but I struggled with it being very space colonist....this changed when my girlypop running playlist came on and now it is the only way I'll play the game.

Here's the link for any one else who thinks war crimes are only fun if you are girlypop.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1LICDiMTuzk27IZwi2gkag?si=zdGr1hWbQm-g5JbamZuuzw

#mass effect #girly pop #gamer #ass effect

there are 2 genres you can use when describing Saren’s followers living on the Sovereign and not knowing it’s a Reaper. First option is obviously a classic gothic horror with Lovecraftian undertones: you’re trapped in a haunted mansion, full of ghosts and whispers, and it hates you, detests the very idea of you being alive, but you are falling in love with it, because it eroded all your thoughts and it is magnificent, and you try to learn more and more of it’s secrets until the darkness seeps into the very core of you and you become one of the ghosts shambling in the corners.

second option is a dark comedy where you’re an underpaid depressed corporate slave and you’re just trying to get by without irritating your weird turian boss with horrible temper, around whom everyone is pretending to not notice weird glowing tubes and cords sticking out of his ass, because he’s literally allowed to do whatever he wants to you by the government and he won’t even need to hide your body like other rich people. And you’re just trying to ignore weird shit bc you do not have enough energy to give a fuck. You’re on a shitter, reading passive-aggressive email from Kendra from comms department, and mysterious whispers keep telling you to “Submit” and you’re like “yeah, submit complaint to the HR about someone’s weird audio kinks.” You open a kitchen cupboard and there are huge lens that looks like an eye pulsing red light at you and you silently close the cupboard and open the next one, get the sugar bowl out and walk away.

#ass effect #mass effect