An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
do you ever wake up and think, "man, i wish lauded league of legends enthusiast and gay scientist lover aevallare would write a much-too-long saga about loving and having sex with an alien, all while exploring themes of uncontrollable rage, duty as a burden, and PTSD with a large sprinkling of the came back wrong trope?"
well, today is your lucky day. after a year of radio silence, i got my shit together and updated my mass effect fic.
"Mordin is the most celebrated geneticist and doctor in the galaxy, and Miranda brought me back to life from scraps. What makes you think there's any good reason that you have to die?"
"Celebrated? Perhaps. Krogan would argue notorious," Mordin interjects. Miranda crosses her arms, looking Thane dead in the eye.
When they put it like that, it's difficult to argue.
-
thane doesn't have to die, so shepard doesn't let him.
My apologies for such a long absence. I never stopped writing, but the words come slower than they did before. This year has been very hard. Please enjoy another tale from my comfort AU.
This fic follows another of my works called East by Evening. Thane's blazer is inspired by this image.
"It says he’s going to give me an award? What the hell for? It’s his retirement party," Shepard grumbled.
The morning sun streaked across the pristine white page as she set the invitation down and took a seat at their breakfast table.
Hackett was retiring - black tie required.
Tea in hand, Thane sat peacefully across from her. His wooden chair creaked as he leaned back and rested one ankle on his knee. “A symbolic gesture, I assume. A thank you for… 'enhancing' his career.”
Shepard scoffed and met his eyes with a knowing look.
"Honestly, I'd hoped I'd never have to see London again," she muttered. Her coffee was screaming hot, but she gulped it down anyway. The burn helped her stay focused on the present as she recalled the burgeoning city skyline, riddled with painful reminders of their narrow escape from extinction. She shook her head and sighed.
“The admiral will have invited many familiar faces, Siha.”
Silence settled between them as she mulled over his words.
Outside, songbirds picked at trays of dried sunflower seeds Thane had left out that morning. She watched them through the window as if looking into the past.
In the years since the war, she'd been invited to all kinds of ribbon cuttings, unveilings, and whatever other public appearances. Instead, she had turned a blind eye to military politics. She had no stamina to be the military showpiece of a bureaucratic machine. She wanted to build. To flourish. To live under the rigor of her own command.
So she did. And in the meantime, life went on - changed as it was by the reapers. As a civilian, Shepard no longer had unfettered access to military communications technology. This, perhaps, was her single regret about retirement: keeping up with the lives of those she cared for had become difficult. She saw most of them maybe once a year - to say nothing of those who had gone offworld as soon as the relays had been serviceable again.
Shepard sipped her coffee and weighed her options.
"Alright. But you're helping me pick out something to wear."
With nothing in her closet but jeans and sweatpants, the process of 'picking out something to wear' had been a weeks-long back and forth. Dresses, suits, uniforms… She'd tried them all, her mood oscillating back and forth between the desire to reconnect with old friends and the comfort of staying the hell home.
In the end, she chose a dress with a moderate neckline and a long slit at the thigh.
“This is what civilians wear to formal events, right?” She asked, unsure. The soles of her bare feet arched as she glanced at the mirror over her shoulder, eyes screwed in visible confusion at the twin straps criss-crossing the open-backed gown. “Maybe this was a bad idea," she huffed before glancing over at him. "Is this a bad idea?"
Charmed that she looked to him for advice on human customs and attire, Thane couldn’t help but smile. Shepard rotated slowly before him, inspecting how the fabric shifted around her knees while she picked at the drape of her neckline. The black fabric was a delicious shadow over her silhouette. Privately, he thought himself the richest man in the Sol system to be blessed with the sight of her.
“You may be surprised to learn that this style of gown is popular on Kahje as well. Although a drell neckline would be decidedly more… revealing.”
Shepard met his eyes in a blank stare.
“You holding out on me? I’m not going tits-out unless you are, too.”
She indicated the blazer draped over the couch beside him, a classic human design with a narrow open V between the lapels. He'd chosen it because exactly one vertical half of the garment was decorated with winding branches of gold brocade. Shepard had joked that it was "business on the right, party on the left."
“I think it would be wiser to observe your human customs," Thane said as he stood to take her in his arms. "In any regard, I believe all eyes will be on you." He kissed her cheek. "You look ravishing."
Drink in hand, Thane led her through a suffocating throng of people in uniforms, dresses, and suits, easily flowing between conversations like rain on the sea. Of the many faces she recognized, even more were conspicuously absent. She felt small beneath their eyes, naked in the thin, flowing sheaf of fabric she had so painstakingly chosen. She could have kicked herself for not just wearing her dress blues, but it felt wrong to wear the sharply pressed stripes of command after so long - after so many had died for her cause.
Time and again, Thane had told her “An assassin is a tool.” While she hated thinking of him that way, Shepard had to admit she was presently grateful for the versatile blade of his candor, where her’s would otherwise have been a hammer.
"I didn't know you were married, Shepard," Hackett said as they approached, his voice raised over the noise of the crowd.
Age had certainly touched him since war. His hair had been gray as long as she'd known him, but years later, his smile lines had grown deeper, skin dappled with little tan sunspots. The admiral held a nearly empty beer in one hand, and judging by the dumb smile plastered on his face, it was far from his first. He extended his arm to Thane and they shared a firm handshake (very firm, Shepard noted, watching Hackett wring and flex his hand after they separated).
"Pleasure to meet you, Sere…?"
"Nuara," Thane said easily. "Tannor Nuara."
Shepard's stomach lurched. It had been years since she'd heard his old moniker - a difficult reminder of life under the Alliance's watchful eye.
"That’s right, I think we spoke at Shepard's retirement ceremony. How did you two meet?" Hackett took another sip of his beer.
He killed three people in front of me on Illium, she wanted to say. He was willing to die for a cause your military couldn't be seen acknowledging. But Thane spoke for her.
"Doctor T'Soni introduced us.”
The Admiral barked out a joyful laugh. "Doctor T'Soni is a woman of many talents.” His eyes crinkled as he gave a lopsided smile. "...is she single?"
“Liara’s married to her job,” Shepard blurted out, to her immediate regret.
Before he could respond, someone Shepard didn’t recognize blessedly tapped Hackett’s shoulder, and he waved them off. She gripped Thane's hand and exhaled in relief.
Announcements and awards preceded dinner. In an ocean of banquet tables, they managed to find some familiar faces.
Doctor Chakwas, now also retired, sat beside her as Hackett introduced the expectant Fleet Commander - a man Shepard barely recognized. Every bit as stone-faced as his predecessor, the new guy was already touched by the stresses of leadership, with hair more silver than brown.
"Years ago, that man took a bullet to the thigh, barely missed his femoral artery,” Chakwas leaned in to remark, her face flushed with alcohol and blooming into a smile. The doctor nudged her with a playful elbow. “He has a very nice backside. One of the reasons I loved being a ship's medic."
Truly, Shepard had meant to laugh, but what came out was a hollow chuckle of half-interest. She was on her eighth drink of the night, and as usual, the sweet buzz of inebriation was impossible to find. Stone sober, she smiled at the doctor and remembered the nauseating moments she'd spent worrying over injured comrades in Normandy's medbay.
A few seats over, Joker made a comment about Chakwas being a 'dirty grandma,' and the two bantered back and forth about his own questionable tastes. Unsurprisingly, the man was still Normandy's Helmsman. EDI sat beside him, folding her napkin into an Alliance cruiser for the entertainment of Jacob Taylor's young son. Shepard grimaced and looked away, pained by the memory of those same hands attempting to crush Ashley Williams' skull on Mars.
Ashley herself sat beside James - N7 embroidered on his lapel. Shepard’s eyes lingered on the familiar symbol as Ashley fixed her with a concerned look from across the table.
“You feeling ok, Skipper?”
The last time everyone was in one place like this, the Citadel was still filled with bodies.
“Just a little overwhelmed,” she laughed, half-heartedly. James frowned, scars from his own past battles creasing on his brow.
In the storm of her own thoughts, she tried to tell herself they all had demons to fight. But in the years since the war, she'd had little reason to practice putting on a brave face. Her smile did not reach her eyes.
She flinched when Thane settled his hand over hers.
“Siha," he said quietly, "Will you walk with me?"
Thank you, she exhaled to herself. She took his hand and rose to follow him.
Just outside the ballroom, evening moonlight washed over a concrete balcony above a verdant courtyard and a bubbling fountain below. In some way, it reminded her of the Presidium. Earth, as she'd realized years ago, was abundant with little luxuries like this.
Shepard breathed deep and tried to relax.
She leaned on the balustrade and kicked off her heels, hissing as her sore, bare feet touched cold concrete. It took a few moments to center herself.
"It feels like a lifetime ago. Like it happened to someone else," she said as she leaned over the balcony railing. Earth's single moon highlighted the garden in dreamy chiaroscuro. "Everyone's acting like they're remembering better times. Like the war was the 'good old days.'" she shook her head. "It’s… jarring."
Thane stepped beside her in silence, gathering her to his side with an arm around her waist. She let her head rest on his shoulder and sighed, hair falling across her eyes as though to hide her shame from the stars.
"It's something that drell often struggle to understand," he admitted. "Time clouds the human mind, your brain wired for survival. You will remember what your body wishes you to, often to the exclusion of daily hardships. Only the most significant events remain. And you, Siha, were at the heart of them all."
Against him, she nodded, her arm twining around his waist. Her willingness to be close never seemed to be wasted on him, his body relaxing into her as he gave her space to work through her thoughts.
"Still," he said, "I think there may be some merit to viewing the past through ‘rose-tinted glasses,’ as you say. To let the greater atrocities remain unsaid in order to craft a better moment, only if for one night."
"Just seeing their faces, I feel like the enemy is at the gates.”
Thane stroked her shoulder with concern. "Are you having flashbacks?"
"No, it's more like… I see Ashley laughing and I suddenly remember the war, and I think… it might be the last time I ever see her smile."
She sighed, straightened herself and sat down on a nearby bench. The wood creaked beneath her as she leaned forward with her forearms on her knees, breathing deep.
"I keep having to remind myself the war is over," she said without looking up. "It's always like this."
"We do not have to stay here," Thane said softly.
"I don't want to leave. I just want…" She looked at him, her face twisted with the guilt and pain she fought to hide. "I want to enjoy seeing my friends." Her voice cracked. "I want to look at them and see… them. Not the soldiers they were."
Thane gave a soft hum of acknowledgement, and then he asked, "What do you see when you look at me?"
"What?” Her voice cracked in upset. “I didn't mean-"
"Look at me, Siha." He touched her hand and knelt in front of her. Her eyes darted to him and he soothed her with a smile. "Do not worry for me. I only asked what you feel."
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes but she stubbornly held them back, steadying her breathing as her eyes met his, shadowed by moonlight.
"I feel safe with you," she said, after a long moment. "Like home."
Thane's enormous black eyes gleamed at her in the evening gloom, and in them she felt a primordial comfort unlike any other, years of togetherness insulating them, separating the present from the past.
Thane took her hands in his and kissed them softly.
"Though we have fought many battles, time has shown that we are capable of peace, Siha."
"I always thought peace would be… easy."
"It is not easy," he agreed. "It is a different hill to climb; both you and I have faced the unimaginable." A hand rose to cup her cheek and he leaned in, kissing her unshed tears away. "We will face this together, no matter how difficult."
Unable to find the words to respond, Shepard closed her eyes and leaned into his words. Just hearing his voice was enough to bleed some of the tension from her tired shoulders. Thane's lips were soft on her cheek; warm, and so very familiar.
Perhaps that's what she needed at this moment. In a minefield of unfamiliarities, Thane was an island. A living, breathing piece of home. The eye of the storm of her thoughts.
He kissed her cheek, her jaw, and finally his lips pressed to hers, and he kissed her like they'd never left their shared bed that morning - a dangerously easy thing to lose herself to.
Her arms slid around his shoulders as Thane's mouth opened beneath hers, his gentle tongue slipping across her lips in a silent request for entry. She obliged, tasting his mouth as he did the same. In moments they were kissing like breathing, drinking of one another under an alien moon.
Thane, never one to be shy about his passions, held her ever closer. Hands that had been held chastely in hers began to travel along her skin, touching her wrists, her elbows, finally sliding around her in a lover's embrace. Shepard felt the heat coming off him and surrendered with a quiet moan against his mouth. It spurred him on, one hand dropping to grasp her by the hip.
He shifted her forward until she rested on the very edge of the bench. Her knees parted around his torso as he pulled their bodies flush, the long slit in her gown slipping away to reveal one bare thigh in a rush of cool air. Thane murmured his appreciation, his palm molding around her exposed skin, soft indents forming around his gripping fingers. He was warm, heat melting through her blood as it rushed to fill the longing hollow between her legs. Shepard couldn't help the soft sounds she made against his mouth. Her body responded to his touch as kindling to a spark. His proximity conserved her modesty, her desire for him separated by one thin strip of cloth and the fragile drape of an evening gown.
"You have no shame," she whispered.
Thane hummed against her mouth, and when he spoke, his voice was dripping with intent.
"The evening has been difficult for you, Siha." He responded, the smile evident in his tone. The hand at her thigh slid around the curve of her hip, between fabric and skin, until he held firm to her backside. “I thought perhaps you could use a distraction.”
“Sneaking away to make out,” she breathed. “I love that about you.”
Her neck arched as he tucked his head to her shoulder and kissed her throat. She gave him the access he wanted as he ghosted his lips along her upper chest and down, further still.
“You look incredible in this dress,” he murmured, kissing the swell of her breasts as he journeyed southward. Her pulse quickened as he arranged the slit of her gown around her legs and lowered himself between her spread knees. “You tease me with every step.”
"Just can’t keep your hands off me?" She fell back against the bench as he nuzzled her inner thigh, exhaling with want against bare skin, soft kisses lingering in the wake of his hot breath. The moonlight gleamed off the pressed, unblunted shoulders of his blazer, soft shadows falling over emerald scales between his open lapels.
"I can, and I will, if that is your wish." He said heavily, breath washing over the heat between her legs.
With difficulty, Shepard looked past him, gauging their level of privacy. By all accounts, they were alone, but not hidden.
“I assure you, I will hear them long before we’re discovered.” Onyx eyes gleamed up at her, blinking slowly. It was hard to ignore the promise of his hot mouth hovering inches away from the heart of her arousal.
The lingering venom of his kiss tugged at the edges of her decorum. A quick romp to take the edge off might do her some good. She bit her lip and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, finally.
Thane’s answering growl of excitement quavered into her flesh. "You spoil me, Siha."
Eyes locked with hers, he kissed her covered apex. She watched in anticipation as delicate, scaled fingers slipped along her inner thigh and beneath the edge of her panties.
Slowly, gently, he drew aside the fabric and traced her seam with one thumb, edging her open to appraise her with lustful eyes. His cheeks flushed in arousal when he found her wet and eager.
To say that she had become used to the intensity of his affections would have been a bald-faced lie. Where once she had been intimidated by the devotion with which he made love, she now found herself breathless beneath his touch. Thane loved like a man on fire, desperate to manifest his desire for her flesh. And it was for that reason that she held her breath as he gazed upon the center of her pleasure - the calm before the storm.
"Gods above and below," he murmured, "I would surrender all that I possess for one taste of you."
A breath later, he was on her.
The first touch never failed to take her breath away. Intensified by the cold nighttime air, his tongue was liquid heat between her legs. Drell tongues weren't terribly different from humans - the only apparent difference being a shallow divide down the center. Not quite forked, but neatly parted into two prehensile sides - and by the gods, did he know how to use them.
His lower lip dragged against her entrance as he licked a broad trail up her seam, tongue splitting thickly over her flesh as he went. He flicked it against her, teasing, settling into her parted thighs with a satisfied sigh.
His tongue felt like heaven - a suffocating, writhing heat that threatened to melt her from the inside out. He licked her patiently, unconcerned with bringing her to a hurried climax as he savored her taste, letting his mouth play over the softness of her sex. And then he reached for her, spreading her with graceful fingers to focus on her aching clit, every stroke slow and hard, settling on a rhythm that set her blood alight and drove all thoughts from her mind.
In their shared bed, she would have been begging for him to take her. She burned for him, wanted to touch him, taste him, to feel the raw truth of his lust inside her body. This wasn't the place, but beneath his generous mouth, it was so easy to forget that they were merely a stone’s throw away from dozens of people - all of them none the wiser that her husband was tongue deep between her legs.
Or so she hoped. If they were caught-
"Look at me, Siha," he called to her, ever aware of her wandering thoughts. Her cheeks flushed under the heat of his gleaming eyes as he said - no, demanded: "Let go."
And by his word, she was swept back under.
Thane's eyes drifted closed as he opened his mouth to her again. His small, sharp nose left a soft indent just above her slit as he drowned in her, brows softened in rapture, throat vibrating with pleasured focus. Shepard tilted her hips into him, knuckles blanched on the armrest as her chest heaved with each lustful breath. With every sweep of his tongue, he dosed her with tingling venom that would play over her nerves long after they parted.
She felt, rather than heard, the muffled groan of satisfaction as his tongue pushed into her channel. Her spine bowed against the backrest, one hand atop his head, the other gripping the fabric at his shoulder as she rolled her hips against his mouth. It didn't matter how hard she tried to silence herself - when he kindled her lust like this, it was all she could do to keep from crying out.
She gasped his name, one bare ankle hooking around him as though he had any thought of stopping.
"I cannot get enough of you," he whispered reverently into her cunt. "The eyes of every single person in that ballroom could be upon us and still, I would not stop unless you willed it."
She believed him. He licked her pussy like it was the wellspring from which her love poured. Like her body was sent from the deep to save him from himself. As she’d seen in a thousand ways since the moment he shook her hand in the Dantius towers, he was as powerful in love as he was in any other pursuit.
He exhaled in satisfaction as he licked a path up her wet seam, pausing to suckle at her clit. When he spoke, she felt her insides quiver with the low vibrato of his voice. "Tell me you want me, Siha."
"I want you," she moaned, perhaps louder than she intended. "Please don't stop."
He brought one finger to her, gently circling her sensitive opening. Shepard bit her lip and sighed as he sank it inside her.
"No man could hope for a greater privilege."
The moment blurred into a hot whirl of pleasure as he returned to her clit with renewed focus. Mouth rolling over her in languid strokes, his fused fingers joined the first, opening her core with delicious pressure. Shepard bit back a moan as he pushed against her sensitive walls with measured, assertive strokes. The feeling left her breathless, white-hot pleasure screaming in blurred waves behind her eyes as she watched him lash her with his tongue. Her pulse pounded against his seeking fingers surely as his mouth called her to sweet oblivion.
She finally surrendered, letting him taste his fill, clamping a hand over her mouth as her climax hit her like a punch in the gut. It stole her breath, chest heaving as she quivered under his insatiable lips - and still he did not stop. Thane's tongue only stroked her faster, his fingers unyielding as her walls clenched down around them, groaning as though he could taste the pleasure coming off her in waves. Moments later, she came a second time, and it wasn’t until she pushed a shaky palm against his forehead that he granted her mercy.
Carefully avoiding her oversensitive clit, he traced his tongue up and down her folds, all too eager to make her shiver. She rode out the aftershocks of her climax on his fingers, still hilted inside her.
"Your taste is a drug, Siha."
Shepard had no words for him, gasping as he kissed her mound and withdrew to sit back on his heels. The nighttime air swept in around her open thighs and she watched through heavy-lidded eyes as, one by one, he sucked the taste of her from his fingertips with a sly upturn of his lips. The one undecorated shoulder of his suit bore the soft indents of her desperate grip on him just moments before - the only telltale sign of their intimate rendezvous.
“You’re amazing,” she sighed as he pulled a soft cloth from inside his jacket and began to clean the damp skin of her inner thighs, “Where the hell did you get that suit?”
"It's not mine," he said lightly, glancing down at the material with appreciation. "I borrowed it from Kolyat. I believe it belongs to his partner."
Her eyes went wide with delight. "Shut up," she grinned. "You're wearing Feron's suit?"
“Yes,” Thane nodded and smiled, adjusting her panties back into place. “Though I cannot say if he’s ever worn it.”
"Remind me to thank him later," she said, leaning to take him in her arms. She kissed his cheek, mouth inches from his aural ridge. “After I finish thanking you for that incredible orgasm.”
He laughed then, giving her an affectionate squeeze.
“Later, Siha. I cannot vouch for my vigilance beneath your fervent affection.”
“Get up,” she crooned. He gave a shallow gasp as she ran her tongue along his throat.
“Arashu bless your eager mouth,” he groaned, "but we should not."
"But you-"
He kissed her into silence, mouth still wet with her essence.
"Listen," he said quickly. She forced herself to focus, and heard the distant sound of music playing from inside the ballroom. Seconds later, the balcony door opened and she cursed under her breath. They separated, Shepard closing her knees as Thane stood and offered her his hand. He led her to the balustrade and pulled her body close as two other guests sat down on another bench not far from where they stood.
With her back to his chest, she felt him breathe deeply and exhale into her hair, his hardness straining against her backside.
"Your enthusiasm is not lost on me," he whispered against her ear. "Tonight, when we are truly alone, I will peel this dress from your body and show you just how much I want you right now."
That voice gave her chills, a dull throb settling hot between her legs. Sometimes it was easy to forget how much control he had over himself - how much power he withheld. Though his hands settled chastely on her hips, his powerful grip betrayed just how hot he was for her.
But the pair nearby showed no signs of leaving, and the cold was beginning to crawl under her skin.
She tipped her head back toward him.
"Promise?"
"I promise, Siha."
She turned, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head against his shoulder. For a while, she simply held him.
"Thank you," she whispered, though exactly what she was thanking him for, she wasn't sure. The words left her mouth before she could reason with them.
"The pleasure is mine, Siha." He kissed her hair. "How are you feeling?"
She took a moment to consider. Whether it was the venom of his kiss, the afterglow of climax, or simply the warmth of his affection, she felt lighter than before. She thought of her old companions seated around that ballroom table and smiled. She wanted to laugh with them again.
"Better," she said after a breath. "A little cold."
"Hey Commander!" Joker shouted over the music as they approached. "You missed the new guy calling Hackett 'Admiral Richard Cranium'."
For a moment, she just watched him, her thoughts coalescing around the noise and energy of the party, now kicked off in full swing - complete with music and bad dancing. He was laughing so hard Shepard thought he might break a rib.
"It's not that funny," James said with a shake of his head.
But Thane leaned close to her ear and asked, in oblivious sincerity, if Richard Cranium was a figure from human culture. And like a dam had broken, her face cracked into a smile, laughter bubbling up from her like a rush of breath after a deep dive.
I compiled an average for AO3 stats based on ME ship. I stratified the list for a ship from greatest to least for each variable (kudos, hits, BM, etc). I'm using median vs mean due to ease in collection and to correct for outliers. I filtered out confounding ships to better isolate the ship being studied.
Out of curiosity, since I love to read and write epics, I compared the major ships for >80,000 words. Data is less dependable since sample size is less.
Popularity Stats: The major ships, except for FShenko, consistently have the highest stats. Despite the larger sample size, Shakarian performs the same as MShenko and FShiara. The minor ships I studied were about equal. FShenko consistently had less than half the stats of the other major ships and brings up the rear, even behind the minor ships studied.
Epic-Length Stats: MShenko has nearly twice as many kudos on average as Shakarian and FShiara and three times as many as FShenko. This is likely due to the smaller number of epic-length fics available and the higher completion rate. FShiara and Shakarian are about equal. Again, FShenko takes up the tail.
Kudos/Hits Ratio: To correct for the wide range in popularity (hits), I calculated the median kudos / median hits.
With these results, it appears minor ships and FShenko fall amid the major ships. The difference in average number of kudos seems more a factor of ship popularity (hits) than a difference in reader responsiveness.
Conclusions:
Most major ships have higher stats than minor ships (unsurprisingly)
Shakarian, MShenko, and FShiara are the most popular and fall about even
FShenko is the least popular. It falls well below other major ships and is even outperformed by the minor ships I studied
Correcting for popularity (hits), the ships get about equal engagement. FShenko and the minor ships fall even with the Shakarian, MShenko, and FShiara
*** Note on ship selection: There were more m/m ships I tried to study, but after eliminating confounding ships, they had too small of a sample size (Steve Cortez/Male Shepard, James Vega/Male Shepard, Garrus Vakarian/Male Shepard). I didn't explore MShep/Female due to lack of interest, but generally, it appears to be on the low end of average kudos (20-30 range).
I just really wanted to write Shep thirsting after Thane while watching him clean his gun, but the moment kind of got away from me. I don't know anything about guns and I haven't written /anything/ since 2014 so I'm very rusty. Be gentle with me pls ಠ‿ಠ
Was originally going to try to pidgeonhole this into the spiritual shrios summer prompts challenge from Rosenkow but it felt like cheating cause there’s nothing spiritual about this lol but I have plans for those prompts too if I can get my shit together
She had figured Thane would find Zaeed repulsive given his crudeness, but perhaps there was something about contract killing that made him relatable. The three of them were wrapping up a mission on a particular terminus backwater - it had gone surprisingly well. The team was in good spirits, trading banter and headshot counts down their comms. The gangs they assaulted were woefully less equipped than their informants had suspected, and those who resisted were easy pickings.
"That's a big fuckoff rifle you have, Krios." Zaeed said as the three of them disembarked the shuttle and loaded into the elevator. He jammed the button for the cargo hold with his elbow. "What kind of recoil damper you have on that thing?"
"It was a custom order. Government contracting has its advantages," Thane said casually. The pair stepped off as the doors hissed open. "If you would like, I'd be happy to show you. As it happens, I had planned on servicing my equipment tonight." Thane held out an arm to stop the elevator from closing, tilting his gaze toward her. "Shepard?"
Shepard shook her head, already fussing with the toggles on her hardsuit. "You boys go on, I'm gonna wash up."
He gave a nod of acknowledgement and the lift continued to her cabin.
Thane. Shepard didn't know what she expected when she'd read his dossier but it wasn't this. Their conversations had become more frequent and he had been surprisingly open with her and the crew - there was something about the ease with which he communicated, effortlessly setting and breaking down boundaries through tone and choice of words alone. What had started with genuine curiosity had turned into healthy respect and now... whatever this was. Something resembling a crush.
She heaved a sigh, shedding the rest of her hardsuit. She tried not to appear too eager but the truth was he just about lived rent-free in her mind most nights. His voice and cautious smile visited her behind closed eyes. Right now, she was thinking heavily about his casual offer for her to join him and Zaeed for... 'servicing their equipment.' The more primitive parts of her mind interpreted this almost as a proposition when it absolutely wasn't. She had to admit it by now - she wanted any excuse to be near him, alone or not.
Tempering her expectations, she quickly showered, threw on a hoodie and cargo pants, and fucked off for some 'standard maintenance' in the cargo hold.
The two had their guns spread out across tables and crates when she arrived, and they appeared to be deep in conversation.
"Glad you could join us, Shep," Zaeed said as she sat down cross legged on a crate by the hull. "Krios was just telling me about the fucking Hanar firearms market. Can you believe this? Those prude jellyfish make some nice guns."
Thane chuckled, removing the sights from his rifle. "The Hanar are far from prude. Have you ever been to Kahje?"
"Can't say that I have," Zaeed mused. "Boarded a transport cruiser headed there once. Only, we never made it there on account of I was hired to hijack it."
Thane glanced up from his work, stopping to stare at Zaeed with a gaze that could have put holes through the hull. "Were you, now?"
"Made an unscheduled stop at a transport station, told the everyone the ship was unfit to fly, and disembarked them." Zaeed paused with a telling grin. "And then we killed fucking the slavers in the hold. Got paid double if the passengers stayed alive."
The drell's body physically relaxed. "Slavers headed to Kahje." A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Yes, my encounters with EKL Group ended with similar bloodshed."
"That's the name! Bunch of soggy cunts. It was pretty disappointing when they didn't put up much of a fight, but I'll never say no to easy money."
Thane simply hummed his approval of the merc's boast as Zaeed launched into another tale of his headhunting exploits. Shepard listened as she dismantled her pistol, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. Sometimes Zaeed really liked to hear himself talk - and that was fine by her. It made it less awkward for everyone when she couldn't take her eyes off Thane, who was presently uncoupling the handle and stock from his gun.
The handle had a custom grip that looked specifically made for drell hands. Thane's hands. She fixated on them. Large palms and long fingers, about the same size as any human man's hands, but with two fused digits in the center. She took stock of how he handled his rifle - having freed the barrel, he was cleaning it with a lightly oiled rag, dragging back and forth along the hollow tube. The gesture was almost suggestive - just a small mental leap to take it from cleaning his gun to polishing his -
She sucked in a breath and tried to focus on her weapon. Dumbly, she had put the compression release on backwards and now it was mildly jammed. She triple checked that the safety was on and went to work freeing it as Zaeed continued with his current tale about how he'd shot a cartel drug lord between the balls from 800m - and her mind wandered back to Thane. The drell was presently - almost indecently - using one finger to push the cleaning rag inside one end of his suppressor in a way that made heat pool between her thighs.
Hungrily, she watched his biceps tighten and relax as he twisted the suppressor back on to the barrel and set the assembly down on the table. The fantasy rose unbidden into her mind - his strong arms pushing her back on to that very table, dragging the zipper of his jumpsuit down to reveal the viridian expanse of his torso, peeling it back and letting it hang loosely over his hips and that positively luscious ass. Shepard bit her lip and tore her eyes away, the mental image of the deep grooves of muscle at his hips crystalizing in her mind. She burned for him - wanted to know what his mouth tasted like, how his palms would feel gliding over her body, how good it would feel when he...
"Shepard!" Zaeed's raspy voice jolted her back to the present.
She was so distracted she hadn't even noticed Thane had finished disassembling his rifle and excused himself to the crew deck for the moment. His gun sat in an organized arrangement of parts and pieces, a sure sign he would return shortly.
"- yeah?" She started, her voice giving away her surprise. Zaeed chuckled and she knew she had been caught. "Sorry, just a lot on my mind."
"A lot on your mind? You look like you're about to die of thirst and he's the only one that'll-" he paused just long enough to make his point understood, "-fill you up." He gloated over his crude observation.
Shepard laughed to swallow her embarrassment and shook her head. "Aren't you perceptive."
Zaeed whistled. "You're a brave woman, Shepard. I heard kissing drell is like licking a fucking toad - people say it'll get you high off your ass."
Her face colored at his words but she said nothing. She'd heard this too and had been trying not to think about how he would taste, sharing his breath, riding the high while she rode him.
"What are you gonna do if your Cerberus friends have a problem with you fraternizing?"
"Fuck Cerberus," she said flatly, jamming the last pieces of her pistol back together.
"I think you mean Fuck Thane Krios," he cackled.
Suddenly the door hissed open and Thane strode inside. Before Zaeed could say another word, she quickly holstered her gun and made for the door. "Good talk, gotta go. Catch you later," she huffed, leaving Thane to raise an eyebrow at her sudden departure.
As she boarded the elevator she heard him shout with a laugh - "Good luck with that frog in your throat, Shepard!"
She could feel Thane's eyes on her. Yeah, she was gonna have some explaining to do later.
For Day 6 of Leather & Lace (Friends/Enemies to Lovers) I decided to also write something for Thane week being hosted by @rock-paperback-scissors on @lizardassassin. So I wrote some friends to lovers for Thane and femShep! ^_^
Saying The Words
“Siha?”
Thane’s voice was soft in the darkness, almost too soft to be heard, and Jane turned to find him watching her. His dark eyes reflected the light of the stars from the observation window, and they seemed to glow softly as he sat forward and rested his chin on his folded hands. His expression was neutral, almost unreadable, but she could see a tightness to his jaw and some tension around his eyes that spoke of … nerves?
Surely not; Thane didn’t get nervous.
“Siha, do you still consider us to be friends?” he continued in the same measured tone, though there was an edge to his voice.
Jane froze for an instant, the question throwing her. They were friends. In fact, there were times when she felt closer to Thane then she did anyone else on the ship. His stories about his family had touched her so deeply that she’d felt safe enough to share stories of her own family. And when she was around Thane she didn’t feel the need to be Commander Shepard all the time; she could relax and be herself.
But … there was more to it then just that. More to it than just friendship. She felt drawn to the drell in a way she had never felt drawn to anyone before. She ached to reach out and feel the texture of his skin for herself, to feel the strength of his muscles, and had woken from one too many dreams in which Thane featured in a very amorous role.
Were they friends? Yes. But she wanted more.
She nodded slowly and sighed, unable to keep a lack of enthusiasm from her voice as she answered. “Yes, we’re … friends.”
Thane tilted his head, and his eyes shimmered slightly as he reached forward and caught one of her hands with his. “I’m not sure I can be … friends.” Jane blinked in surprise, but he just smiled. “There is something building between us, Siha. I can feel it. I believe you can too. It is making it hard to be friends when I wish to be more.”
The rest is under the cut!
To her surprise, he traced a gentle pattern over her hand and ran his thumb over the back of her knuckles. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smirk and he lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. She swallowed, her stomach feeling like a thousand butterflies had been let loose within it at the sensation of his lips, so warm and soft, on the back of her hand.
Words failed her, and she stared at him silently as he lowered her hand and gazed up into her face. He was waiting for her to speak, she knew he was, but her mouth was dry, and her tongue seemed to be glued to the roof of her mouth. His expression, which had been so hopeful, so confidant, started to collapse, to fade, and she could see him starting to draw back, to mistake her silence for rejection.
The silence seemed to stretch on forever.
Thane cleared his throat awkwardly. “My apologies.” He flushed lavender and began to effect a physical and mental retreat. “I misread your teasing for flirting and thought-“
“No please!” Jane grabbed his hand and held on, her eyes blurring as tears sprung to them unbidden and she flung herself forward into his arms. “Don’t leave! Please! I don’t want to be friends either.”
Thane wrapped his arms around her tightly and held on as she clung to him. He shuddered and drew in a deep breath, then murmured something that sounded like ‘thank the Gods’ as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Jane closed her eyes tightly and tried to find the words in her jumbled thoughts as they swirled around.
“I’ve wanted to tell you how I felt for so long,” she spoke haltingly, the words tumbling from between numb lips as he held her. “But I couldn’t find the words.”
Thane drew back and cupped her face in his hands. His touch was warm and reassuring, and she relaxed into his hold. “And how do you feel?” She hesitated for a heartbeat, but he dragged his thumb over her lips and gave her a smile that melted her heart. “Tell me, Siha. Please. I need to hear the words.”
“I … I love you.”
It felt good to finally admit the truth. To say it out loud and admit it to herself as well as him. Because it was true. She loved Thane. She’d loved him for weeks now. Months maybe. She loved his strength. His Passion. His calm. His wonderful way of telling her exactly what she needed to hear at the right moment.
She loved him.
He smiled and kissed her, his tongue swirling around hers as he dipped her so low on the couch that her red hair brushed the cushions. His lips were firm and strong, and his kiss tasted of fresh rain and the herbaceous tea he enjoyed. When he finally pulled away her head spun slightly and her lips were a little numb, but Jane just grinned, not sure if it was the toxicity of his skin affecting her or pure happiness.
Thane ran a hand through her hair. “I love you too,” he said it almost casually and pulled her close, so they could snuggle as they watched the stars. “I never thought to meet anyone who would move my heart again, but you have.” He kissed the side of her neck. “I’m not sure what the future will hold for us, especially with this suicide mission hanging over our heads, but I wish to spend what time I have with you.”
“And I with you,” Jane kissed him again, and giggled as the room spun. Yep – his skin was definitely affecting her. “What do you say we take this back to my cabin? Maybe spend some of that time together in a more private setting?”
Thane chuckled. “That,” and he smirked as he scooped her into his arms, “sounds like a very good idea indeed.”
Thane Krios/Female Shepard. Angst. SFW. Plot twist, so maybeee... it doesn’t end so sadly. Catch it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14300934
Charisma Shepard is a strong woman. She survived hell after hell, but after the love of her life dies... She’s left to pick up the pieces.
Gift for @hushedmusic / @imaginesaroundtheworld
Charisma Shepard remembered a lot of things. She remembered her days living on the colony of Mindoir, believing herself safe and protected, only to have her entire life shattered. She remembered the batarians storming homes, slaughtering and capturing those she had known all her life, even the entire detail of her mother screaming for her to run, to get away, and then the blood blossoming onto her chest as bullets ripped through her fragile body. She could still hear the bullets whiz past her, hitting the trees and ground around her; her only saving grace had been her biotics reaction to her panic. She had fled into the wilderness, and had barely survived on impure water and foreign berries. Half-starved and delirious, she stumbled into a small squad of Alliance marines a week later. She nearly died in the hospital, but didn’t. She survived.
Rissa had thought her life would be better after she joined the Alliance, two years after her family was murdered. She wanted to help those who may find themselves in similar situations; she didn’t want the suffering she endured inflicted on anyone else. However, it seemed her ill-fortune followed her. Six years after her enlistment, in 2178, she was forced yet again as those she cared for died around her. While patrolling for possible slaver sightings on Akuze, the vehicle she and her unit were in was upturned. As they fled, she was forced to hear and watch her unit get torn to pieces. She remembered huddling against a rock bed, not sleeping as they screamed well into the night. She was the sole survivor. It was a few days before she was found; she survived on what rations she could bring over from the crushed vehicle with her biotics. She had nightmares of that for years after.
Rissa’s thoughts swirled to Virmire, and being forced to decide who lived… and who died. The choice between Kaidan Alenko and Ashley Williams, two of her most trusted companions. She remembered telling Ashley that she has to get Kaidan and Kirrahe, and how she promised to go back and find her, but she didn’t get that option. Before she could, Ashley blew the bomb, herself, and the facility to pieces. She remembered looking back through one of the Normandy’s windows at the rubble and smoke, her omnitool’s radio releasing loud static crackling through her ears.
Her memory swirled, shifted, to Saren, the council, the “end” of the war on the reapers. She remembered issuing the command to save the council at the cost of her own countrymen, and while she truly did feel horrible for doing so, she also knew having the council in her favor would help later on. She remembered asking Saren to stop, to fight Sovereign’s hold on him, but she saw it in his eyes that he couldn’t. Before she could say another word, he put his pistol to his head, and a resounding shot rang through the halls. She looked at his lifeless body, several feet below her, then watched in horror as he rose up, only it wasn’t him, but a cretin that wore his face. She sometimes woke up, many nights after the fact, with his face looming at her, his eyes crying for help but his body trying to kill her. The only solace she had after was Anderson being put on the council, and her hopes of him being able to keep things in better order.
As she lay there, in the darkness, more of her life flashed before her eyes. The Normandy, being attacked by Collectors, and her crewmen crying for help as the ship was blasted apart. She remembered Kaidan running up to her, pleading with her to come on, but she ordered him away, and went to find Joker. She lifted him as carefully but as firmly as she could, ignoring his complaints. After he was in the escape pod, she had went to prepare ejection but the Collectors’ second run sent her spiraling into space. She felt her lungs scream for air as her suit malfunctioned, the oxygen she desperately needed flushing out. She struggled, her hands clawing at her back as she sank quickly towards the surface of some insignificant planet. As she hit the surface, her bones crushed and she was somehow alive for moments after, as excruciating pain throbbed through her body.
Her next memories were on Ilium, in the Dantius Towers, hunting the drell “assassin”. She remembers watching as he suddenly slid out of the ceiling’s vent system, and quickly decimating Nassana and her forces. When he finally faced her, she felt a flair of… attraction? Towards him and his voice, but she pushed it away, and then tried to completely stamp it out at the news that he was dying. She was sick and tired of everyone leaving her, and for once, she didn’t want to suffer. She didn’t want to lose anyone else. Yet, her feelings had other ideas. As the broken drell opened up to her, she felt herself falling deeply for him. She cursed her feelings for a long time, pushing them away, but she hit a breaking point when his hand brushed hers while they were on shore leave. She felt the oddly smooth skin of the back of his hand touch hers, and he didn’t move away. Whether it be unfortunate or not, she poured her feelings out right then and there, in a corner of the docks. He had looked at her in astonishment, his forest green eyes widening and his brow ridges lifting exponentially. After a few moments, a small smile twitched his lips, and he said he had also felt something for her, but hadn’t known if she felt the same.
The next few months of her life had been happier than in a very long time. When on shore leave, she spent time with Thane and his son, Kolyat, helping them forge a new connection. While on board and in the thick of her mission, she clung to Thane for comfort. He was her first in many ways… Her first love, her first real relationship, her first “time”... When she told him this, she thought he’d push her away but he didn’t. It endeared her to him even further, if that was even possible at that point. He wove himself around her heart, and she did the same to him.
After the Collector base was taken down, she had one last night with him before she was “put on leave”. He told her he’d wait for her, and she knew he would; Thane would never lie to her and she knew that all the way into her soul. Even six months of no communication, he still welcomed her with open arms, and even promised her he’d keep an eye out for Kaidan. He asked her to keep going, because he knew she could save the world, and he would still be waiting after.
But after never came. Her heart still ached as it did when Kai Leng’s sword pierced through Thane’s abdomen, the sound of tearing clothing and his small gasp still hummed into her ears. She doesn’t want to remember him laying in that hospital bed, and the prayers… And him finally slipping away from her. He broke his promise. He wasn’t going to be waiting for her after all.
His death tore her apart on the inside. She cried for hours at night, cried herself to sleep. She flipped between brash anger and painful aching. Her chest hurt so much, she thought that would end her before the Reapers ever got the chance. His death, Mordin’s, it was too much. She lost one of her closest friends and the love of her life in barely any time at all. Yet, with all the pain she felt, she didn’t die. She kept going. He had believed in her, believed she’d win this war, and her body would go cold before she’d let him down. She fought her way, tooth and nail, and on the eve of battle, she finally rested. Her rest wasn’t what it should have been, though; she hosted her most trusted, most loved, the single light in her life’s funeral. She laid him to rest in the ocean after. She went all the way to his home to do it, with Kolyat and some of the hanar he’d known. After coming back, she watched vids he’d wanted sent to her, but never got through. She felt tears run down her face as she saw him speaking to her again, heard his voice. Wet sobs came to her throat, and it felt like she couldn’t breathe. She curled up on her bed, clutching a photo of him, as his vids replayed. She felt so broken and beat down, and honestly? She didn’t want to live without him. Not for a single second more.
The Citadel, now some reaper nesting ground. That child she had saw die at the beginning of this? Nothing more than their keeper. He gave her options on how to save the world, on how to bring peace. She stared at him, at the contraptions she couldn’t even begin to name, and finally, the swirling light in the dead center. She could end the warring between artificial life and biological, and… maybe she’d see Thane again. She went running forward, and threw herself into the light. She felt unbearable pain for a moment, as her body was ripped apart on a molecular level…
And now, she is in this darkness. She felt like she was being pulled down, forever, into a pit of nothing. Was this the afterlife? Being forced to sit inside your own head till you go crazy? To relive the best and worst moments of your life?
Rissa was suddenly jolted awake as her lungs filled with water. She opened her eyes in alarm, and swam up, out of the dark, clear depths. Her throat and lungs burned, her eyes tried to water-
She was up, and out, spluttering. There was a shore, distantly away from her. She swam to it, not understanding what was happening, until she came into sight of…
“Thane?!” She yelled, and his head snapped up, those eyes she knew so well widening. He was quickly on his feet, and running towards her in a simplistic robe and capris-like pants. The sun shone and glittered across his dark green and dim lime scales as he ran, and she had almost forgotten just how handsome he was.
“Siha! Is that you? I didn’t…” He pulled her from the water as her strength finally began to give out. He held her to him as they both began to sob into each other, his hands and arms gripping her tightly. She didn’t think she’d see him again, ever again, he was dead and lost…
“Th-Thane? Where… where are we?” He buried his face into her hair, and she more felt his response than heard it.
“I told you I would wait. I promised. I waited for you, I… prayed for you. I prayed for you to return to me, Siha. I didn’t… We…” He slowly pulled back, his hands still clinging to her back. She heard more voices, and as she looked to his left, she saw Mordin collecting seashells and Legion politely helping him, both talking in depth about them. She was home, with the people who needed her.
BEFORE WE BEGIN - Today is a little special, because exactly 10 years ago, I posted my first Mass Effect fanfic. If you want to get technical it was posted to FF.net first but that site is a crumbling ruin so I'm linking to AO3.
Even though I only wrote fic for about four of those ten years, I'm still sitting here like "what the fuck is my life." Never thought I'd be doing this still after so long. It's brought me a lot of happiness.
I'm still writing, and there's more to come for the foreseeable future c:
“You said you spent two years here. What brought you to Illium, anyway?” Shepard asked casually.
Thane looked up from the taxi kiosk as their vehicle pinged and its doors sprung open.
“Business,” he said simply.
Shepard frowned, rolling a shoulder as she settled into the driver's seat. They were running a little bit late, but Liara’s apartment wasn’t far. Automatic controls took over after just a few inputs, and they were off. She leaned back into the leather seat and looked over at Thane.
“You spent two years on Illium just… killing people…?”
“An assassin does not spend all of his days killing, as you say. Much of the work I did on Illium was not unlike what Ms. T’Soni was doing when you arrived here looking for me. Gathering intel on a target is arguably the most important thing an assassin does.”
“Makes your job easier in the long run,” she agreed.
“I don't strike until I understand exactly how to engage. Think of it like entering a pool of water. Jumping right in will cause splashing and disruption. But slip into the current of its mother stream and you will be but a drop of rain on an ocean.”
The corner of her mouth quirked at the natural poetry of his candor. “Who taught you to talk like that?”
Thane chuckled.
“Another thing I spent my time doing - reading.”
Their taxi rounded the side of a tall residential tower, clad in reflective azure-tinted glass. The setting sun lit the facade in oranges and purples, gleaming in shifting tones as they passed by.
“We are actually not far from where I lived,” he said, letting his hand fall over hers.
“A city man, huh? How does an assassin keep a low profile in a place like this?”
Thane hummed. “There is only one way. Trust.”
Shepard eyed him through a few errant locks of hair.
“Trust in yourself, or trust in others?”
“Both.”
“So you lived with other people?”
“Occasionally. But I tried to keep my travels within a few hours' distance. More often than not, I returned… home.”
She twined her fingers with his, but did not linger on the uncertainty in his voice. The concept of ‘home’ was a difficult one for all of them by now.
“My network of contacts is as important to my survival as my training,” he continued. “Trust is for the man who forged my false identity, for the person who owned my loft apartment. Trust is for the contractor who built the structure without a thirteenth floor.”
Shepard cocked a brow. “Humans think 13 is an unlucky number.”
“Indeed, the only way to reach it was through the security elevator. I placed my trust in the building’s attendants, as well.” He smirked. “It was not a hard thing to buy.”
They surged ahead as the sun dipped below the neon horizon.
Nos Astra looked like it had been ripped straight from the pages of the science-fantasy novellas she’d read as a child. The warmth of Illium's brutal sun slanted across her face and she let herself relax. How long had it been since she’d just enjoyed the passage of travel without the weight of responsibility tugging at her bones?
They sat in peaceful silence until greeted by the untimely downside of civilian transport. A line of red taillights stretched out before them.
Gridlock. Shepard groaned.
“I better let them know we’re running late,” she sighed as she punched up her omni-tool and fired off a message to Liara. Hopefully whatever Feron was cooking tonight didn’t require their punctual arrival.
"There are worse places to be stuck in traffic, Siha."
Their hands reconnected on the center console as she sank further into her seat. She understood why Joker made such a fuss about his pilot’s chair. This was far more comfortable than the hard plastic benches in the Normandy's shuttle.
“What was your favorite thing about living here?” She asked Thane with closed eyes, resting her head as their taxi crawled forward.
“Anonymity, I think. This planet is host to many species. Locals are accustomed to such visitors.”
“I thought drell were rarely seen off Kahje. No one ever bothered you about that?"
Thane sounded amused. “I became used to being approached offworld long ago."
"Must get annoying."
"Many are aware of the hanar reputation for training my kind as assassins. Most people keep their distance. But we do tend to attract the more…" he made a thoughtful sound, choosing his words carefully. "Let's say, 'adventurous types.'"
Shepard cracked a smile. "Boy howdy, I bet you have some stories."
Thane's lips twinged upwards. "There was a gentleman on Palaven who simply would not let up. He approached me about moving narcotics. When that failed to garner my attention, he attempted a more sensual dialogue."
"I didn't know turians had a thing for drell."
"The year is 2185, Siha. Anyone is fair game," he deadpanned. "But he was attractive by turian standards, if a bit boistrous. Tall and generously proportioned with a wide cowl and long fringe - studded, as well. I remember he was wearing a leather ensemble that flashed the hide at his waist, tattooed in black and red."
"Where were you on Palaven that had you engaging with guys like that?"
"My target was a drug pusher known for cutting his product with hanar toxins. It was not an idyllic location."
"Does compact training prepare you for turian tweakers trying to get in your pants?" She teased.
"Moreso to resist than to detect," he chuckled. "Perhaps in my youth, I would have…" Thane waved a hand, dismissive of words he hadn't even said.
Shepard had his full attention at that.
"Oh come on, you can't just leave me hanging on a story like that. Now you're telling me you have a thing for turians?" She tugged his arm, her tone jovial as she continued, "I better warn Garrus."
Thane took her hand and met her gaze. "I've had remarkably few partners in my life, Siha. I would rather not be burdened with the memory of unsatisfying trysts. But I do have eyes."
Her face split into a grin.
"I'll take that as a compliment, then."
He kissed the back of her hand, pulling her toward him.
"As well you should," he said as he gently tucked her hair behind her ear. "I have never regretted sharing my body with you."
Shepard leaned over to touch her lips to his. The gesture was meant to be appreciative, but he drew her into his arms. She didn't resist. There wasn't much else to do, stuck in traffic as they were.
"Must be nice to remember the best human sex you've ever had with perfect clarity."
"The only human sex I've ever had," he corrected. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he pulled her into his lap. "But I don't think I need to tell you how reality supersedes memory."
That deep rumble in his voice made her nerves light up in ripples down her back and thighs. She sighed as he kissed along her jaw, his lips firm and gentle.
"If your memories feel like reality, what makes the real thing better?" An involuntary sigh escaped her throat when his mouth found her pulse.
Thane seemed to pause at her question, but as his fingertips slipped just below the hem of her shirt, she was not content to wait for his calculated response.
Her mouth covered his parted lips, tongue slipping out to taste him, exotic and warm. Fingertips tightened on the small of her back and slid upward, his large palms framing her waist. The warmth of his hands radiated through her, contentment scattered in the wind to be replaced with the low roar of oncoming desire.
Shepard pulled back to give him a knowing look, blinking against the venom-induced halos blooming around every point of light that flashed past their vehicle. Beneath her, she felt the stirrings of his arousal and she twisted her hips to align herself with the blessed pressure between his legs.
"Something you wanted to say?"
"That." He said simply.
She arched a brow. "What?"
"Spontaneity. Surprises. An impatient kiss while I consider your question." Her eyes followed his tongue as it ran along his bottom lip as though he could still taste her. "That is why, given the choice, I prefer 'the real thing.'"
Her face softened. "You wanted me to do that."
Thane was without a hint of shame.
"I had hoped."
His hands slid up her body, palms rounding her curves until he arrived beneath her breasts. Fingers grazed briefly over her bra, nipples peaking and evident beneath the fabric. That ghost of sensation zipped through her body like a spark on a wire, igniting every cluster of nerves on its way down to the heat building between her legs. From the pressure of their gently rolling hips, she felt the slick of her own arousal and blushed. She was already soaking wet for him.
"More importantly," Thane continued, "I wanted to see how 'high' you'd volunteer to be when we finally arrive at Liara's." Thane quickly yanked down the zipper on the front of her compression bra, releasing her breasts into the confines of her shirt and molding them in his palms. "From your response, I'd wager dangerously so."
Her whole body heated at his words. As the sun slipped below the horizon, she pretended not to notice how the windows were beginning to fog up, exacerbating her already hazy vision. She focused on his face. Dark eyes, plush lips, the muted iridescence of his scales throwing each passing light around in a blooming spectacle of color. His hardness pressed insistently against her center and she rolled herself against his lap, eyes drifting closed as she groaned.
"You're a fucking criminal, Thane Krios."
"Is that right?" There was a glimmer in his eyes, the corner of his mouth turning up into a sly smile. "Are you placing me under arrest, Spectre?"
He withdrew his hands from beneath her shirt and she whined at the loss of him. "Yeah, actually, I think I am."
He laughed, a sound she felt through her entire body. He removed her sweatshirt, unzipped and tossed it behind her before returning his mouth to her neck and shoulders.
"And what, may I ask, are the charges?"
"Possession of-"
She gasped when his hands fisted in her t-shirt, pulling it over her head and settling it behind her neck until all that remained was a stiff tangle of the shirt and bra around her shoulders. He pulled back to admire his work - the inviting expanse of her body, the rise and fall of her naked chest, nipples tightening with sensitivity as the air washed over her bare skin.
"God-" she only had a moment to breathe before he was mouthing his way over her heartbeat, cursing under her breath when he kissed between her breasts. "-on my authority as a Council Spectre, you're under arrest for possession of - oh - a deadly weapon."
Thane withdrew then, meeting her gaze as he peeled his tunic off and flipped it casually into the backseat. His answering tone was thick with mischief.
"I'm unarmed, Commander. I'd have thought this would be obvious."
Blinking to clear the bright spots in her eyes, Shepard summoned her composure and laced her fingers behind his neck, focusing on the delicious view of his long stripes diving beneath the waistband of his pants.
"The weapon, Sere Krios, is your mouth."
"I see," He murmured, caressing her breast before closing his lips around one peaked, sensitive nipple. Shepard arched against him, eyes fluttering closed, begging him for more under hushed breaths. He made no attempt to stop her from tugging him against her chest.
"In that case, I should warn you. These hands..." His teeth grazed her flesh and she gasped, "Are legally recognized as lethal weapons by the Illuminated Primacy."
To emphasize his point, he closed his fingertips around her other nipple, drawing a sharp gasp from her throat.
In whatever corner of her mind that still had clarity, she realized his statement was likely not a fabrication.
"I may have to confiscate those hands, Sere."
Thane gazed up at her with an intensity that threatened to set her on fire.
"You may try," he murmured into her skin.
Watching him tease her like this made her ache with need. Her back bowed, offering her breasts to his generous affections.
At that moment, their taxi lurched, diving to a lower altitude and coming to a near stop again as they joined a new queue of cars exiting their current lane of traffic (the cab's VI chirped a cheerful 'We remind you that seatbelts must be worn at all times'). The momentum carried her forward and then suddenly back again, and Shepard swore, falling in an awkward sprawl against the dashboard.
For a moment all she saw was the dazzling lines of traffic zipping past in Illium's night sky. Passing cars tracked slants of light across her exposed chest as they finally broke free of the exit queue and took off down another sky corridor. She thanked gods she didn't quite believe in for the cab's tinted windows.
Thane wasted no time taking advantage of her thighs, parted as they were over his lap. Nimble fingers unfastened her belt and yanked her pants to her knees. Dizzy, she contorted just enough to get one leg free, content to be half-dressed as long as he had access - as long as he would keep touching her.
Their lane was moving almost swiftly now. Drunk on light and lust, she could only hang on as Thane's palms slid up her muscled thighs. He teased the edges of her panties, never quite close enough to the ache of desire between her legs. She reached for his hands but he clasped her wrists and guided them to her chest, humming in satisfaction as she cupped her own breasts.
"A spectacular view," he murmured.
Shepard swallowed. She could nearly feel the heat of his gaze crawling up the bared expanse of her body, the scent of sex filling the tiny cab. Outside, the skyline was whipping by.
"Siha," he sighed as he used one gentle thumb to swirl her cotton panties over her drenched, aching cunt. "I have to wonder why you wear these at all."
She was about to tell him it'd be pretty fucking obvious if he would just get on with it when she heard a quick snap and they were gone, torn and forgotten on the floor. Those last thoughts fled her mind as both of his hands went to work, eager fingers rippling along her slit before sliding easily into her wet heat.
She bit back a moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction
"You're a damn savage."
Thane smiled. "I did warn you about my hands."
The position was uncomfortable but she didn't care, not with his fingers doing absolutely unholy things inside her. He pushed deep, massaging her walls in slow, firm strokes as one scaled thumb rolled over her clit.
She clenched her teeth, fighting the alluring surrender of his venom. "We don't have... a lot of time here."
"Tell me what you want, Shepard."
She pushed herself against his fingers but he did not relent, fingering her at his leisure.
"God fucking damn it Thane, you know what I want."
That earned her a rare and authentic laugh, but he didn't let up.
His fingers curled against her walls. The gesture was as much for him as it was for her - a demand and a promise.
"Say it."
Her head fell back with a groan as he stroked the deepest, most sensitive part of her cunt.
"Holy shit, just fuck me."
"Very well," he said with his usual dry candor. "...since you are so eager."
Thane withdrew his hand, bringing it to his mouth as he kept her still with a palm on her belly. His tongue gathered the arousal that coated his fingers and she writhed, desperate to feel him on her, inside her, pounding the truth of his desire into her body until she couldn't speak or move.
Finally - he unbuckled his pants.
The vibrant color of his rigid cock was a blurred smudge in her venom-hazed eyes. He gripped under her thighs to haul her closer, teasing her clit with the tip of his length.
Shepard braced her palms on the dashboard and eased herself down on his prick. No human had ever filled her quite like Thane did. Her pulse pounded in her cunt, heat blooming between her legs as he opened her body to pleasures only he could provide. Heady waves of sensation rippled under her skin when he bottomed out. Her eyes rolled back. She panted hard atop him.
"I may never tire of teasing you like this, Siha." Thane smirked, rocking his hips gently.
"Shut it, Krios."
Hands settled on her thighs, squeezing as he smiled. "I'm afraid you'll have to earn my silence."
Shepard groaned, pushed herself off the dash and nearly collapsed over him, her mouth seeking his, buying his silence with her tongue. High as she already was, his kiss envenomed her further, transporting her far above the clouds of common decency and restraint. She rolled her hips in his lap, moaning into his mouth as his tongue slid against hers.
Fucking him was overwheming in the best way. Between his delicious tongue and his thick ridged cock filling her to completion, Shepard damn near forgot about their more civil plans for the evening. Lights flashed behind her closed eyes, their bodies moving together in his arms as the skycar's momentum carried them across Illium's neon sky. His kiss was so potent she was sure they'd left the atmosphere entirely. She was alive with need, slipping into a humming world of color and sensation. Fingers of heat crawled up her spine, overpowering her with nothing but raw desire. The need to stake herself on him, to ride him and claim him so completely that he would forever be a part of her.
And to that end, he guided her, fucking her with single-minded purpose. Scaled fingers squeezed her hips, sliding down over her backside to lift and pace her, stroking himself with her body. She cried out with every deep thrust, arms looped around his neck, gasping into the moonroof as he overtook her. His mouth slid over her breasts and worked her nipples one by one, forked tongue and plush lips, seeking, suckling, his tingling saliva leaving icy trails across her skin as he gave as much as he took, and then some.
He was incredible. At the mercy of his mouth and split open on his cock, she surrendered. Pleasure screamed through her veins as she climaxed, suffocated in skin and scent and sound. Shepard howled in his arms, fire pulsing between her legs and flooding every hollow corner of her body. An orgasm that stole her rhythm, made her sated with fatigue until all she could do was hold on, adrift on the ocean of his rolling hips and rasping breaths.
She felt him swell inside her. He gasped, his voice raw as his cock pulsed with the promise of oncoming release before he spilled himself in the deepest part of her cunt. He felt like heaven. Captive in his arms, she no longer gave a damn where they were or from whence they came.
How long they remained entangled this way, she didn't know. The sky had long since faded into the electric colors of Nos Astra's night. Reality came back into blurred focus as the skycar slowed to a stop in front of Liara's building. Shepard hid her face in Thane's shoulder. A light rain was falling, little rivulets clinging to the fogged windows like some kind of otherworldly ocean reaching from above.
There was no question - she'd overindulged.
Thane soothed her with warm hands, easing himself from her body. Neither of them were in any hurry to move, but as their vehicle began to beep in irritation, they began to untangle their heavy limbs.
She cleaned herself up - or tried to. Her eager lover pushed past her hands, slipping his fingers inside her freshly fucked cunt, massaging his cum into her walls.
“You’re incorrigible,” she whispered. His hands drew a soft sigh from her, threatening to reignite her lust as he gently coated her folds in his tingling release.
“We are already late, Siha. Shall I have the taxi take us around the city one more time?”
Shepard bit back a moan as his fingers slid over her clit.
“Don’t make me pull the Spectre card again.”
He grinned against her lips. “Very well.”
Thane retrieved her torn panties from the back seat. Shepard accepted them with a sheepish smile before tossing them in the vehicle’s waste receptacle.
Finally dressed, they stood in the vestibule of Liara's apartment. Shepard attempted to neaten her hair while Thane stood unmoving, hands clasped behind his back. No doubt he was prepared to deliver some kind of smooth excuse to explain away her blown pupils and buzzed behavior. Liara was too smart for that, but with any luck she'd be too polite to acknowledge her lack of inhibition.
Thane wasted no time engaging Liara about the many archaeological relics adorning her apartment. It was sobering to think that she’d been through not one, but two impossible missions with Liara by her side. She sounded like the woman Shepard remembered - bright eyed and fascinated by intricacies that would not have drawn anyone else’s attention.
Shepard sank into one of the too-soft couches and stared up at the vaulted ceiling, watching the elegant pendant lamps sway with the waning venom in her mind. There was a loft bedroom up and to the right. As she rubbed her thighs together absently in attempt to soothe her scale-bitten skin, she wondered - if walls could talk, what stories would they tell about her friend and her unlikely lover?
“Food’s almost done,” Feron shouted from the kitchen. “Water and tea okay?”
Liara took a seat. “Yes, thank you.”
Feron rounded the apartment moments later, handing out glasses of ice water and setting a tea tray out on the table. He stood and paused, his brow crinkling as he considered Thane’s proximity to Shepard’s uncharacteristic slouch.
"You guys fucked, didn't you?"
Liara choked on her drink.
"You mean in general?" Shepard began, "Or on the way to-"
Thane covered her hand with his own and cleared his throat.
"Shepard shared a drink with an old acquaintance before departing Nos Astra," he calmly explained.
Feron raised a brow, nictating membranes sliding in silence over his vivid amber eyes.
"You're a bad liar, Krios," he muttered. "You think I don’t recognize an envenomed human when I see one?"
"The drink she ordered is a cocktail made with drell venom."
Shepard turned Thane's hand over in hers, inspecting his scales like they were the most interesting thing in the room.
"I like your freckles," she whispered - loudly.
Feron rolled his eyes. "Gods, you let her drink that?"
"To say I let her do it would imply that I have any say at all in what Shepard chooses to do."
Feron's eyes narrowed.
“Ha se’vah donn’um raav tor. (She’s had more than just a drink.)”
Thane sat quietly a moment, a smile reaching slowly across his features as he responded in a low, confident tone.
"Ha se’vah donn'um fara. (She’s had much more)."
Shepard was about to ask what he said when Liara abruptly cleared her throat and excused herself. Feron barked out a laugh as she passed.
“Ravash sered. (Dirty old man.)”
"One day you may learn that your sharp tongue is better suited to pleasing your lover, serét (young man).”
Feron extracted an ice cube from his glass and flicked it across the room at him. Thane dodged it neatly and smiled devilishly.
Shepard squeezed Thane’s arm. “What are you guys even talking about?”
“Our host wishes to be assured of your good health, Siha.”
Or, Thane and Shepard tour the Citadel Archives and it's spicy.
[Read on AO3] - Rated E for EXTREMELY FUCKEN SPICY
“I remember this.”
Shepard paused by one of the Archive’s many holo theaters.
The theatre played back a recording of her Spectre induction, though it did the event little justice. Thane and everyone he knew had seen clips of it in the news for weeks after the event. Barely 30 years prior, humanity had been a ‘hostile’ intruder - or so the Council had wanted them to believe. He’d been just a boy then, largely insulated from such events.
The flickering representation of Shepard on the day of the ceremony was younger, bright-eyed but rigid in her posture as she still was. Back then he’d given her induction his cursory attention, mindful as he should be of the Council’s agents. He would have laughed if someone told him humanity's first Spectre would become his Siha and confidant. And yet here she stood, fingers twined with his, watched the holo with a contemplative gaze.
"Hard to believe this was almost three years ago." Her voice was low with sentiment. "I was so different then. So... naive."
Thane squeezed her hand. "Not at all, Siha. You may not have known what you would face, but look at you. Shoulders back, standing at attention, your face set with determination. The look of a woman who means to accomplish great things."
She laughed a little and slipped an arm around his waist, tugging him closer.
"I had no idea what I was getting into."
"No, I suspect you didn't. Perhaps if you did, you would not have been so resolute. What is that human saying? 'Ignorance is bliss?'"
"Yeah. It feels like yesterday. I guess even ICT can't prepare you for everything. They never covered 'what to do if you survive being dead.'"
Thane twined his fingers with hers, pulling her back against his chest.
"A clear oversight, if they meant to equip you with armor less than suited for interplanetary combat."
Shepard laughed, looking down at herself almost as though she expected to be wearing her hardsuit.
"Infiltrator armor is all shields, little physical protection. Quick and quiet.”
"Not unlike an assassin's armor," Thane murmured, setting his chin on her shoulder. "I am glad the Alliance has improved your armor in recent months."
"Sounds like you've spent time thinking about this."
He hummed, a deliberate, soundless vibration meant to pass through her where they stood pressed together. "I've had six months to reflect on memories of you. Every near miss and every uncontested victory. Your improved hardsuit is not only functional, but also a feast for the eyes. On the battlefield, you are a breathtaking sight."
Shepard pressed her cheek to his and he hummed his appreciation.
"Next you're gonna tell me you have a hardsuit fetish."
A smile bloomed on his lips. "You are... nearly correct. It would be more accurate to say I have a 'hardsuit removal' fetish."
Thane squeezed her hips to emphasize his point. He felt every shiver she fought to ignore.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're insatiable?"
"Yes," he said with a light chuckle. "A condition I proudly admit to. Although one might argue the blame is shared. You enjoy my appetite for you."
"Shut up," she said playfully.
"Do you remember our escapade after the crashing ship?" He let his palms wander up and down her sides, leaning into her neck so she could feel every word. "The evening you showed me, in explicit detail, how to remove a military hardsuit in under 20 seconds?"
Hands settled on her waist, teasing the button of her pants. With a distracting kiss in the crook of her neck, he deftly flicked it open. Her reaction was quick, but Thane was quicker. Hands grasped at his wrists as heated, eager lips moved along the side of her neck, kissing just behind her jaw.
Shepard groaned as he continued, pausing to nip at her earlobe.
"Your eyes were hungry, Siha. Fast as I may have been, you were very… eager. One by one, pieces of your armor hit the floor. Your military undersuit fit you like a shadow. It left little to the imagination.”
"I- that was..."
There was a flicker of need on her voice. Nimble fingers unzipped her fly. He trusted her to stop him if he took this too far.
"Hush, Siha. I would have your attention a moment longer."
His hand slipped into her open pants, fingertips slipping over standard issue cotton underwear to feel her warmth.
"Do you remember how ravenous you were that night? Before we had even reached your bed, your mouth was on mine and you begged to feel me inside you."
Breathing rough against her neck, he ran his fused fingers firmly along her clothed sex. He could feel her pulse thundering as blood rushed between her legs, felt the heat rising beneath his touch, feminine arousal beginning to saturate her.
He exhaled over her ear, lovely strands of crimson hair fluttering with his breath. He was breathing hard. Memories of her soft, wanting body stirring him to a state of nearly painful hardness.
"How fortuitous that your lovely, skin-tight undersuit was ergonomically split for... easy access."
Thane's eyes slipped closed with the memory of her, lovely flushed cheeks and fluttering eyelids, breasts spilling out of her wide open catsuit as he took them both to the precipice of pleasure against the wall of her cabin. Pressed against him as she was, he could still taste her salt beneath his lips.
"Siha..." he whispered against her ear. This time, when she shuddered, there was no hiding it. “I remember how you looked that night… half dressed and desperate for me.”
Quickly, he pulled her panties aside and slid his fingertips over her clit, savoring the way she tensed at the contact. Their bodies were flush, Thane's erection pressed insistently against the cleft of her ass. He held her tighter, wanting to be sure she could feel it.
“Do you think about sex everywhere we go?” Her tone was only half accusatory, and he smiled against her hair. The simple answer was yes.
“Even if I had sought pleasures of the flesh in my battle sleep, sex is simply sex - an act of the body. Intimacy, however..."
He allowed the tips of his fingers to tease the slick heat building between her legs, and his voice shifted lower.
"I was disconnected for many years. I am never far from ready to savor whatever intimacy you'll offer."
“Manwhore,” she muttered.
Thane said nothing, merely smirking in silent affirmation. His nose grazed her cheek as he skimmed his teeth along the shell of her ear, laying desire into her skin. He wanted her needy for what came next. First, however, they would need to find a more secluded corner of the Archives.
She slouched ever so slightly as he closed her fly and straightened her sweatshirt before taking her hand and stepping away.
"Siha, this way."
"Hey-"
Thane tugged her tight to his chest, touching his lips to hers just chastely enough to be innocuous. They were in full view of the archive staff milling about. The scent of her lingered around them - did she have any idea how her body tempted him?
Low enough that only she could hear, he whispered,"Unless you intend to voice your dissent, be silent."
Her jaw dropped in response, and for a moment he fully expected her to stop him. Instead, her lips closed just slightly, her breath coming in low puffs against his mouth. Cupping her face in his hand, he dragged a thumb across her lower lip. Her eyes tipped closed as the telltale flush of desire rose to her cheeks.
"Good girl," he murmured, and rewarded her with another quick kiss.
Thane's smile was innocent, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. Without missing a beat, he resumed the role of a curious tourist if only to frustrate her further.
"Upstairs. There is another archive I wished to see."
Shepard cocked a brow in response, and took his hand once more.
Together they traversed the archives. Thane, of course, remembered fleeting details the rest of the team likely had not even registered during their unexpected assault of the place. He led her to a section lined with books - real, paper books he was at once dying to get his hands on and equally uninterested in at this exact moment.
Books were an unpopular attraction of the archive, near as anyone could tell. Written histories of the asari, turians, and other races lined the shelves, along with other texts in languages neither of them recognized. It was here that he stopped, kicking a stool out of a shallow alcove in the far corner of the library to press her without ceremony against the wall.
Thane's lips crashed against hers like a man starved. Somewhere beneath his kiss, he thought he heard his name swallowed in their desperate tangle of tongues.
"If you wish me to stop, be direct," he murmured into her mouth. "And quiet yourself."
"And if I don't?" Her voice was low and heavy, eyes flashing with lust. She made no move to disentangle them. Her hands slipped inside his jacket, pulling him between her legs. Thane merely growled his approval, sucking her lower lip between his teeth.
"I will gag you," he said simply.
Shepard hooked a leg around his calf and thrust her hips against him.
"This is not a challenge Siha, I do not wish to be caught."
"Shut up." Her reply was nearly smothered in her urgent kiss.
A hand came up to the zipper on her sweatshirt, slowly peeling it down in silence. He stopped as it fell open, admiring how she arched her back into him, eager for him to continue.
Swift fingertips flicked open her pants once again and this time he dropped them to the floor before hoisting her up by her knees, pushing them up and back, spreading her wide. He had her fully pinned to the wall, her bare cunt flooding the air around them with the heady scent of her arousal. Barely noticed by either of them, Shepard's black cotton panties dangled off one foot.
Their lips met again, sinking Thane further into the ocean of his lust for her. Shepard's wide pupils betrayed the venomous effect of his saliva, but there were times he wondered if he was, in fact, the one being inebriated by her alien mouth. As his mind raced through all the ways he wanted to enjoy her body, he fought to keep his own need in check.
A hand threaded between them to free himself from his pants, flattening his hardness between them and grinding himself against her slick heat.
"I can feel your racing heart," he murmured. "This N7 designation of yours, did it cover clandestine operations?"
Her lips moved toward him but he pressed a hand against her chest, watching her face contort in frustrated need. She mewled almost silently with her lower lip between her teeth, and he saw her raise her hand and form a circle with her thumb and index finger. He chuckled - only a woman like Shepard would use tactical signals to communicate during sex.
"Very good. I expect you'll need all the discipline you possess."
He teased her with the tip of his hardness and he thought she might combust right there. Her face was strained, neck tense, her hips grinding against his arousal. She tried to slip herself around his length and he withdrew, holding her firmly aloft by her thighs.
"Shall we see what you taste like?"
Supporting her with his hips, he bunched her shirt and bra up over her chest. He allowed one hand to wander, relishing the soft, sweet curve of her breast against his scales before flicking a thumb over a nipple just to see her expression jump in pleasure.
Lust bled into his voice. "You’re going to come for me, Siha. And you will do it silently."
If she heard him, she gave no indication. Her gorgeous features were blown with ecstasy, brows drawn together as her teeth worried the corner of her mouth in frustration and desire.
"You look so beautiful like this. Your features beg when your mouth is silenced."
Thane dropped to his knees. He held her gaze, supporting her with strong hands on her backside. He watched her hand curl around one bared breast, eyes locked with hers as he drew his tongue up her flushed, glistening slit.
"Delicious," he murmured against her cunt. As his fingers slipped into her depths, he drew his split tongue over the slick pearl of her arousal. His eyes raked up her body, watching her eyes roll back into her lashes, her hand furiously clutching her breast while he licked into her.
Thane notched a shoulder under her backside and went to work. One hand splayed on her thigh, the other hilted finger-deep in her velvet channel. Immersed in her, his whole body came alive with delirious need. He drank her in, his own sex throbbing as her softness overwhelmed his mouth, sensitive and pliant beneath his lips, slick with desire and flavored with the irresistible taste of carnality. Some days he wanted nothing more than to sample the dripping textures of her body for hours.
She tensed as he teased her, the smallest sound escaping her mouth - reminding him that they were in no such place to edge her the way he desperately wanted to. When he gazed back up at her, his eyes slit with concentration, she almost looked like a different woman. The sweet torment of oncoming fulfillment softened her hard set jaw and emerald eyes, lips plump and wet where she worried them with her teeth. Gods, the way he wanted her...
He sealed his lips around her clit and flicked his bifurcated tongue. Memory and muscle came together in the familiar rhythm that never failed to send her off in moments. And off she went - hard and fast on his tongue, stifled cries rippling back through her in a breathtaking display. Fingertips curled into fists, back arched and skin drawn tight over her sternum and breasts as she convulsed against him, a silent display of uncontrolled, tremoring need. She was divine.
Her mouth fell open as she came, and yet she remained diligent in her silence. The only sound that escaped her was a breathy whisper, a soft exhale as he slowed to a stop. He finally stood, bringing their bodies flush again.
"Such a good girl, Siha.”
He slipped his slick fingers into her mouth as he ground himself against her oversensitized sex.
His voice was a sinful confession as he watched her moan around his fused digits.
"Gods, the way you taste. You bring out the animal in me."
Shepard's eyes flashed to him, sharp and focused above her flushed cheeks. She dragged her lips off his fingers in a vulgar display of challenge.
"Show me."
Knees weak, he fought for control of his own body.
"I don't recall giving you permission to speak," he panted.
Shepard only smiled and flicked her tongue over his fingers, drawing it up the narrow webbing between them.
"I said show me."
His cock twitched. Gods, how she tempted him.
In a flash of movement he wasn't sure he had even consciously ordered of himself, he retrieved her panties where they remained dangling off her foot, and pushed them unceremoniously into her mouth. Her brows shot up in surprise and she clamped her legs around him, gasping breathlessly against the fabric.
"I did warn you," he whispered.
Shepard groaned low in her throat and thrust herself against him in response. She was beyond ready. They had little time for teasing. He gave her what they both wanted, aligning their hips and sinking himself ridge after ridge into the luscious, burning heat of her body. She was desperately wet, searing with arousal. Fathomless lust clouded his mind, and he succumbed.
This time she was not so silent. Her sighs of pleasure were soft and muffled around the gag; he savored her voice, finding it increasingly difficult to care if they were found as her silken walls clutched at his cock. His world became hers, narrowed down to their every point of contact - sticky, sweat-kissed skin against his scales, plush breasts pushing at his ribs, her pulsing cunt wrapped around him like a fist of fire. Carnal desire overwhelmed him, hands gripping her thighs as he fucked her steady and hard into the barely concealed alcove they occupied.
She was a sea of flames, sweeping unchecked through every nerve in his body, scorching him in waves as he buried his cock inside her again and again. Ember-colored hair fell loose in her eyes, shining with need, her breaths coming in ragged puffs against her gag. She bucked against him - the very portrait of hot-blooded, unchecked wanting that only death itself could have torn his gaze from.
A guttural moan escaped her as he angled his hips to hit her deeper. He clamped his hand over her mouth and took her harder still.
"You feel so good, Shepard. So wet for me, so tight… Gods..."
Thane buried his face in her neck to muffle his own groan of pleasure, snapping his hips into hers, palming her breast in one hand. For seconds there was only the soft sound of their bodies meeting over and over.
"If you only knew- Siha- how good it feels to fill you.” He panted against her, willing the words to leave his mouth. “To be the one to flood you with release and mark you for my own."
Her answering moan vibrated against his hand, her breaths coming hard through her nose as she lost herself to his pounding body. Thane groaned into her neck.
"I confess I thirst for this," he panted. "Knowing even as we walk back to your ship, the remnants of our encounter are still-"
Teeth clenched, he searched for breath.
"-still slipping from your depths, pooling between your legs."
Thane shuddered with the recall of their first time together. He had watched her fingertips trail over her sex, through the fluids of their joining - a sight so lascivious and visceral it drove all thought from his mind. Overcome with renewed need, he'd spread her once again and claimed her until sleep took them both.
The memory spurred him on. His grip tightened on her thighs and fucked her with abandon.
"You are mine, Siha."
Thane choked down a shout through clenched teeth as he came. Mouth clamped down on her shoulder, his voice vibrated through her skin so deep he felt it in the crush of her ribs against his chest. If they'd been heard, he hardly cared. He emptied himself inside her, gasping as his climax stole the breath in his lungs until they breathed hard and heavy into one another against the wall.
His hand slowly fell away from her mouth, taking the gag with it.
Shepard exhaled. The sound was luxuriant. Satiated and soft. The sound of a woman well fulfilled.
"Siha..." He panted into her skin. "Siha..."
"Fuck." She trembled in his arms. "Holy shit."
He withdrew, reluctant to leave the velvet heat of her body, but ever aware they had likely been far too reckless on this particular adventure. She aided him, tugging her clothes back over her breasts as he slid her pants back over her hips and set her slowly on the ground. Her legs were stiff, and she slid down the wall to the floor. He joined her in contented exhaustion.
They sat side by side against the wall like that for several minutes, all heavy breaths and clutching arms colored with soft whispers of affection.
"I don't even remember what we came here for," she said finally.
Thane cleared his throat.
"I believe your exact words were: 'I wonder what the archives are like when my clone isn't fucking them to hell and back.'"
She laughed at his crass impression of her - a side of his humor he showed to no one else.
"Not sure I intended to fuck ourselves to ‘hell and back,' but I'll take it."
He chuckled quietly against her, finally having gained control over his breathing.
"It will be a good memory, I think."
"I can’t believe how fucking horny you are."
He cocked a brow at her.
"You made no attempt to stop me."
"Wouldn't dream of it, Krios."
They sat together in satisfied silence.
"Come on," she said. "Let's see the rest of the archives." She offered a hand and he took it gladly, standing beside her. "...and then maybe we can go for round two on the Normandy." Her eyes flashed as she smirked back at him.
This woman would be the death of him. He loved her more every day.
-
"Got any weekend plans?"
It was 8:30 at the Archives, only a half hour longer till closing. Isek made his way across the upper level in their nightly sweep for unauthorized devices. His omni-tool pinged in agreement as he swept a five-fingered hand over a cluster of workstations. All clear.
"My sister will be visiting from Sur'kesh," Gatan said from the other side of the atrium. "She's expecting a child with her bondmate."
The pair were well out of line of sight, but Isek raised a brow. The salarian sounded less than pleased.
"The asari?"
Gatan grumbled audibly. "Yes, it seems that way."
"Why so down? That’s great for them."
"Goodness, no," the man scoffed in his characteristically aloof way. "Asari, in our family? My sister is wasting her days in mindless hedonism."
"Well, tell her I said congrats then." The human rolled his eyes. "Asshole," he muttered under his breath.
"Do you assume you are a regular fixture of my interfamilial conversations?"
"What, you mean you don't tell your folks all about your human buddy from work?"
"You have some nerve, thinking-” There was a gasp from the corner of the floor. “Good gracious, what is that?!"
Isek looked over just in time to see Gatan shuffling out of the library shelves with his cane extended, pushing something soft across the floor.
Was that a rat? A shed yari skin?
It was too dark to get a good look. Isek hurried over.
Gatan was already on a call with C-Sec, demanding a forensic team be dispatched right away. The human shook his head. The next time they had a real emergency to deal with, he was sure the salarian would disintegrate.
But he couldn't help but laugh when he saw what had gotten his fellow staffer so upset.
There on the dusty floor was a pair of black cotton panties.
