Work Header

The List

Chapter Text

"Sooo…. General Oraka hit on me," Shepard said, glancing over at her turian companion. The ride in the shuttle was proving long and bumpy, but the mission had been a success, and she had time to relax, have a personal conversation. Vega was up in the cockpit with Steve, so there was a modicum of privacy.

Garrus looked at her with a smirk. "I knew he had good taste," he said, touching her shoulder affectionately.

"He is quite sexy. Must be that whole authority thing," she said, letting her armor rattle against his as she leaned against him.

Garrus just grinned at her lazily, free hand resting on her knee.

"Not jealous?" she asked, tilting her head with a saucy expression.

"No," he replied, amused. Humans.

"No?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him and ever so slightly pouting her lip.
It was 90% playful, but he had been with Shepard long enough to know that the 10% needed addressing. Time for another lesson in turian culture.

"No," he confirmed, leaning towards her. "Shepard, I figured you would have learned enough about turians by now," he said, smirking at her, "to know that you could fuck your way through an entire battalion of them and it wouldn't upset me."

She looked slightly stunned. It was a look so unusual on her he felt a momentary flicker of misgiving at his word choice. So he pinned her with intent eyes and a sensual quirk of his mouth and said in no uncertain terms, "Because I know I'm the one you'll be with in the end."

She relaxed, grinning up at him. "Oh that's true," she said, running a hand over his scarred mandible, "nothing in the 'verse is gonna stand between you and me Vakarian."

He grinned at her, eyes soft, "See? That's why I don't mind you flirting with an esteemed turian general."

"Who said I flirted back?" She demanded, feigning a scowl.

He gave her a sardonic look. "I know you, Shepard," he said simply.

She grinned in acknowledgement, then sat back in her seat. She rubbed the tip of her thumb under her lip, glancing briefly at him as she pondered something.
"An entire battalion," she mused, shaking her head.

Oh spirits. The things he should never have put in Shepard's head. This one was right up there with that one time when he'd teased her that she couldn't make it through a fight without the pistol she was so in love with at the time. She'd proceeded to scare the living daylights out of him by going biotic melee the rest of the mission on an entire base of mercenaries just to prove him wrong.

Not that he should have been scared. She'd kicked ass.

Hell. It had been awesome, come to think of it. He pitied the mercs (only momentarily - they were mercenaries after all) who'd died with the sound of his laughter and her gloating in their ears, but it had been a hell of a time.

Maybe he should re-classify the mental category from 'shouldn't put in her head' to 'should put in her head and enjoy the damn show'.
No. Not maybe, he thought, considering the mental image of a threesome - or moresome - with his lover and a few select turians.


"Just, do me a favor and don't get caught fucking anyone too low in rank," Garrus said, voice rolling low. "You've got to have certain scruples - at least by turian standards, or some of them will get funny around you."

"Rank, huh? Then how am I going find someone that tops you?" she asked, gazing at him with heavy-lidded eyes. If he didn't stop saying fucking like that in that rough low voice of his she was going to lock the cockpit door and demand a quickie right then and there.

"Well, there's the Primarch," he said fondly - and didn't that send her eyebrow up. "And some senior generals to be sure, and… oh, you're teasing me again aren't you?" he asked, laughing.

"Bragging more like. Primarch, eh?" she said, smirking.

Garrus turned hot eyes on her.

"And Oraka?" she asked, tracing a pattern on his armor with a lazy fingertip.

"Definitely high ranking,"

She thought a minute, trying to call to mind other ranking turians she had met.

"Sparatus?" she said.

Garrus laughed, "I thought you hated him."

"More like we didn't get each other. And it’s less so lately," she replied, shrugging to imply the whole since I saved his life, stopped the reapers and rescued the galaxy stuff, etc. etc.

And now they were just out and about on missions taking out leftover reaper bases and indoctrinated Cerberus cells and doing everything they could to avoid spending long enough on the Citadel or Earth to get roped into politics or ceremony.

"He might even have hit on me once too in Udina's office… though it's hard to tell. He does arrogance so well," she added.
"Plus at the time I didn't want to assume anything… but lately it seems like every turian I meet is giving me the look. Including him."

"What look?" he teased, looking at her with hot eyes and a pleased expression by his mandibles' angle and slightly open jaw.

She just glared at him.

"Shepard," he said, "it's not exactly a secret these days that you, how should I put it... aren't averse to fucking me, and thus, my kind."

In response she straddled his lap on the bench with a clack of armor.
"You know, I have a sudden need to show you just how not averse to you I am, Officer Vakarian," she said, gripping his shoulders and grinding her crotch against his. It didn't feel like much through the armor, but the intent behind it was more than enough to send blood rushing to appropriate places.

"I might be amenable to that," he replied, voice low and rippling with arousal.

Chapter Text

It started as a hypothetical list - a game really. Shepard would think of a turian she'd met and ask Garrus what he thought, whether the turian was respectable enough for her imaginary self to fuck. As it turned out, it was highly entertaining.

Once they'd been in a meeting with the councilors, and Sparatus had looked at Shepard while Tevos was busy rambling about something. He'd held her gaze a bit longer than necessary, then returned his attention to matters at hand.
Shepard had raised an eyebrow at Garrus.

//See that? she typed surreptitiously on her omni-tool, sending the message to him.

He favored her with a flicker of mandible that said yeah as clearly as if he'd spoken it.

Then he typed a message in reply.

//He would make the list. My list too even

She raised an eyebrow at him again, grinning.

//You have a list?

He stifled a laugh.

//Spirits, Shepard, go read the damn codex. All turians have a list.


The raised browplate on Garrus's face confirmed it for her. The thought of getting to see who would be on Garrus's list did delicious things to her insides and she had to resist the urge to grin like an idiot.
Ok, she'd read the codex.

She cast another assessing gaze back at Sparatus. He caught her looking but didn't glance away. Slowly he raised one brow plate. She smirked and returned her gaze to her omni-tool.

//Yeah. Definitely on the list.




"Lorik Qui'in," She shouted, blowing the head off a Cerberus grunt with her shotgun.

"What?" Garrus called back as he rolled from one piece of cover to another to avoid the atlas' rocket.

"What about Lorik Qui'in?" She repeated, running forward and ducking down next to him.

"Seriously?" he said, voice bright with incredulity.

"What? He totally flirted with me on Noveria," she said, popping up to blast the mech with another shotgun spray. "And that was even before everyone knew I had a thing for you."

"You can't possibly want to fuck him,"

Vega's running form jerked as he heard that last utterance over the coms. He stumbled into cover, shoulder hitting the wall of crumbling concrete with far more force than desired. "Shit," he muttered.

"Why the hell not?" Shepard demanded. "Frag out!" she added, tossing a grenade into the cockpit of the atlas mech. It exploded nicely inside the mech. It wasn't quite as satisfying as it ought to be though… the "upgraded" goons didn't hardly scream anymore at all. She grimaced and slammed another clip home.

"He's administrator on Noveria now. Isn't that kind of a big deal?"

Garrus seemed to think about it for a moment.

"Sure, but, he's just not… he's a bit rogue, not a very good turian," he decided.

"I thought you weren't a very good turian," she said, raising an eyebrow at him through her visor.

"I'm a big damn hero now, remember? Totally respectable."

She grinned at him for that, saying "Yeah, uh-huh."
Then she frowned. "But I like his voice," she insisted.

"His voice," Garrus repeated tonelessly, looking at her askance as he pulled the trigger taking out another badly-covered enemy without looking.

"Yeah, it sounds like how yours gets when I go dow-,"

"Hey!" Vega shouted, having stopped dead in his tracks and turned to glare at them both, bullets flying past him.
"I'm trying to concentrate here, loco!" he yelled, then turned and shot another Cerberus flunkie.

Shepard just grinned at him.

"Just trying to keep things entertaining Mr. Vega," she shouted.

"Shit," he responded eloquently.

With a sigh she acquiesced. For a few minutes, they all concentrated on the heated battle, moving in perfect coordination as they shredded their way through the enemy.

Finally, when every last Cerberus soldier was dead, and the air fell quiet, Shepard turned back to Garrus, slinging her shotgun over her shoulder.


"So what about General Corinthus?"

Chapter Text

"You know that one officer from the turian Seventh Fleet in Purgatory, the one I found the banner of the first regiment for?" She said, snuggling tighter against Garrus' chest. He was sitting up against her headboard, stroking fingers through her hair.

He rumbled a laugh. "Sorry, no."

"Oh right. You don't follow me around the citadel like you used to."

He looked at her with soft eyes.

"It's not for lack of desire to do so," he said.

She grinned, "No. You're all important and powerful now and need to go order people around and help your refugees,"

He glared slightly at her, trying to decide whether he was being mocked.

"I like it," she said and stroked a hand over his chest. "I like it a lot. Ooh - maybe I should follow you around now. That way I can think dirty thoughts while you get all bossy on some bureaucrat," she added grinding her hips against him.

"Spirits Shepard, you're insatiable," he said with a grin.

"Your fault," she stated, matter-of-factly.

"Oh?" he asked.

"Yep. You're too sexy for your own good," she said pressing a kiss to his scarred mandible, then his cheek. He chuckled.
"So anyway," she said, continuing to roll her hips in an idle fashion, tipping her head to the side as she got back on her previous train of thought.

"Yes, you were saying, this officer in Purgatory?"

I like his stripe," she said with a grin "and he owes me a drink."

He raised a sardonic brow plate at her, "Shepard, most of the galaxy owes you a drink."

She laughed. "True. But he owes me one for sure. He said so. "

"I take it you want to add him to the list?" Garrus asked with a low laugh.

She grinned at him. "I can't help it. You turians. I swear you do it intentionally. It's dirty, wearing a stripe like that in public," she added.

"What stripe?" Garrus said, narrowing his eyes at her.

She leaned up from straddling him onto her knees, framing his face with her hands.
"His clan markings. He has a white strip that runs from here," she said, pressing a kiss to his top plate. "All the way to," she paused, sticking her tongue out to slide it the length of his fringe all the way to the tip. "Here"

"So? What about it?" he asked quizzically.

"It makes me wanna, uhm-," she said, levering herself up on his shoulders and leaning over him and latching her lips on the end of his crest, sucking on it.

He groaned against the taut flesh of her breast which was pressed against his face, clutching at her reflexively as she put her hot soft little human mouth to lascivious use.

"So you like the stripe. Duly noted," he said, voice tight as she sat back down in his lap, nuzzling her face against his neck. "And no, I don't know him. Too low in the hierarchy probably," he said with a hint of self-deprecating sardonic arrogance.

"Hmm, me either actually," she said with a shrug.

"So, the list of things turians do that get you going… which includes talking, walking... breathing - what am I missing?" he teased with a rolling twang to his dual-toned voice.

She sat back, frowning at him playfully. "Don't forget shooting things. Oh! And sitting."

He tipped his head back and asked incredulously, "Sitting? Really Shepard?"

"The way turians sit is extremely sexy!" she replied, indignant. "Oraka has it down to an art form. Just you look next time."

He just laughed. "Ok, and now we can add having a stripe on his top crest… what, like Tactus' markings?" Garrus asked, turning his head to look up at her with narrowed eyes.

"Exactly. Oh yes, forgot about him. Serious badass demeanor. And an electric purple stripe is even hotter than the white one," she said, then paused, looking at him. "Wait, you know him?" Shepard asked.

"Yeah, worked with him a bit down in the refugee camps. He's more or less become the clan leader of the refugees these days, and works with Sparatus regularly. Showed a lot of talent for logistics."

"Now he just drips sex," she mumbled, leaning forward again to lick the groove between his fringe crests.

"Shepard, all teasing aside," he began, gripping her firmly by the upper arms and pulling her down from her delightful obsession with his fringe so that he could look her square in the eyes. "Do you want to take this thing somewhere? I wouldn't mind," he added firmly, "In fact it would be a hell of a lot of fun."

She stared at him with narrowed eyes, as though trying to confirm the truth of his statement by osmosis.
"You'd be there?" she asked quietly.

"Absolutely, assuming you want me there."

She grinned, "You damn well better be there Vakarian. Otherwise I'll just be acting like a giant slut for turians."

He laughed at her shaking his head. "Shepard, you are pretty much-,"

"Hey, you being there makes it legit!" she claimed, frowning at him.

"I never said there was anything wrong with…" he sighed and just rolled his eyes. "Humans," he muttered, shaking his head.

"So... how do you go about inviting a bunch of high ranking turians over for an orgy?" she said, stroking her fingers over the plates of his chest.

"Pretty much just like that. Maybe invite them for a cocktail hour or dinner, and also add that there will be bedsport after for those interested."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, as though suspecting he was having her on.
"That's it?"

"Well, that and publishing your guest list if you're polite and don't already have a reputation as a host for selecting appropriate attendees."

She sighed, "Please tell me you know what an appropriate list of attendees is going to look like."

He flickered a mandible as he considered his reply. "Ah. I do have some experience with the matter."

She grinned at that, leaning in close to stroke her body against his. "Oh. Do tell," she murmured.

"Let's just say this wouldn't be the first such party I've attended," he said. "Though none with as esteemed a list of guests."

She fixed him with a narrow-eyed look, raising one eyebrow.

He shrugged, "Younger turians in the military routinely have similar get-togethers, especially when close relationships are hard to form with all the shifting duty assignments. It's just a way of blowing off steam, getting in some social contact. Usually everyone of appropriate rank is invited."

"And?" She asked.

"And what? Sex happens," he said.

She rolled her eyes, "I need some details here Vakarian."

"I'm sure it's very similar to a human sex party," he said with a shrug.

She laughed. "Now who's not reading the codex? You know that most humans don't participate in sex parties, right?"

"Ever?" Garrus asked, eyes narrowed. "I mean, I knew you stayed pretty monogamous once you were in a committed relationship. But…"

"Most people only ever get as high as a threesome, if that."

"Oh. So this…?"

"Definitely not in my repertoire," she said.

"Oh. Well. I guess I'd better educate you on the subject," he said, stroking his hands over her thighs and looking at her with a grin.

"Sex ed. with Garrus Vakarian - now that would have been a class I would have attended religiously," she said with a smirk.

He laughed, grinning back at her as he ran his hands over the curve of her waist. "Now then, class, where were we?"

She ground her hips against his in response.

"Ah yes, bedsport. After the food has been more or less eaten, or drinks more or less drunk, the host can decide to move things on for the evening. It usually begins with the host or hosts initiating some sort of foreplay behavior, with each other, or with any of the guests who has confirmed their willingness. Something like this," he said, stroking his hands up her back and dipping his head to scrape his tongue along the side of her neck. She made a low sound of pleasure, letting her head fall back.

"Then, any one person who's interested usually joins the first two, touching, exploring, removing clothing," he said, running his hands over her bared nipples, then down to touch the hot space between her thighs. The way his voice had dropped low and rumbling had heat spiraling through her. Himself too, if his loosened pelvic plate was any indication.

"And anyone who touches the initiators is themselves fair game. And then things go from there. Anyone can touch anyone, anywhere. It's usually pretty easy. People just do what they want, whatever catches their attention."

Her hands were stroking his hardening cock pressing it up against the wet heat of her slickened folds as she listened to his rich voice with rapt attention.

"For the most part, turians stick to pretty basic sexual behaviors at these things. At least for people who haven’t been part of a group together often enough to know each other's boundaries."

He took his cock and pressed it up against her opening, rolling his hips slightly to slip into her. She slid her hips forward as well, driving herself down onto him.

"So sometimes a person, especially one who doesn't know the others as well, might just sit back and watch."

"The whole time?" she breathed, blinking at him as she rode his lap in short little thrusts. "Like, they could just sit there," she said, gesturing at the chair by her desk. Damned if the thought of someone watching them fuck didn't turn her on even more.

He followed her gesture with a glance. "If they choose, yes. But they know they might not get invited back - unless the hosts happen to be into voyeurism," he added with a low purr in the back of his throat.

"And are the hosts into a little voyeurism?" she asked, voice dropping low as she leaned forward to grind herself against him, pressing her face close to his.

"Might be," he replied, subtones taut with arousal. He gripped her tightly to him, then tucked his legs under them so he could roll her onto her back, driving into her more deeply. He nudged his knees under her thighs so that her hips were bowed up into his lap, putting her entirely at his mercy as he drove forward.

She moaned, wrapping the arches of her feet around the ridge of his hips, clinging to him as he rocked into her. She let her head fall back so that she was looking past the end of the bed to the seating area of her living quarters. She imagined a handful of turians sitting on the couches, watching Garrus fuck her with their intent eyes. It sent an excited shudder through her body just as Garrus's fingers came down onto her clit, rolling it firmly.

She cried out, back arching against the bed as the orgasm exploded through her. Garrus let out a pleased growl as she shook beneath him. Eventually, gasping for breath she looked back at him. He plunged into her a few more times, then groaned low, dual-tones tight in his voice as he erupted inside her.

"Alright Vakarian, dust off that list of yours."

"Yeah?" he confirmed, looking at her with bright eyes.

"Let's throw a party," she said, grinning broadly at him.

Chapter Text

Oraka would be the easiest to approach. He had been the most blatant in his flirtation, the least restricted by operational necessities. She had rejected the outfit Garrus had suggested; one of the popular citadel dresses that had cutouts accentuating her waist, in favor of a pair of tight leggings and plain tank top. She wasn't trying to seduce the general. Well - she was, actually. But not that way. Not in a way she might be embarrassed about later.

Not that it stopped her from adding a little extra hip to her stride as she walked the length of the Presidium corridor towards him.

He'd seen her coming, was watching casually, clearly not expecting her to continue his way. But she did.

Shepard sat down beside him, shared his gaze out at the peace of the presidium. She crossed one long leg over the other and let her back arch ever so slightly as she leaned back on one elbow, showing her waist to its best advantage.

Dirty pool. But nobody ever said Commander Shepard played fair.

"Shepard. An unexpected pleasure. Decide to throw that hatchling over for a hawk after all?" he thrummed, masking his mild surprise quickly with mostly-idle flirtation.

"Oh, I'm not going to throw him over," Shepard said. She didn't miss the slightly disappointed narrowing of mandibles. Grinning, she continued to watch people pass by around the commons.

"But that doesn't mean he minds me bringing a hawk or two home to play once in a while," she added, keeping her voice carefully neutral.

He paused, body going still. "Is that so," he said quietly after a long moment. His voice was just as tightly measured as hers, but she noticed the surprised flicker of his mandible, the pull of his nose ridge as he sucked in a controlled breath and resisted the urge to look over at her.

"Yes. As it turns out, he's rather looking forward to it," she said grinning over at him.

He turned to look at her, mandibles freezing in surprise.

"Perhaps you'd like to join us for dinner. We're hosting a little get-together later this week."

"I'd like that," he said, voice low and dual-tones in tight accord. "I'd like that a great deal."

"Great," she said, going for bold by feathering a touch to his chin, reveling in the way his pupils dilated and his mandibles flared. "I'll send you a wave with the details."


And with that she stood, throwing a bit of swagger in her stride as she walked away.

Chapter Text

While she was on the high of her triumph with Oraka she made for the turian embassy.

She checked with his assistant, and he told her that the councilor was working but not in any meetings. He'd looked like he'd wanted to demand that she make an appointment, but like most people these days, he'd hesitated at the thought of disagreeing with Commander Shepard in any way.

She'd smiled pleasantly and slipped past him before he could say anything else.

Sparatus was going to be the most nerve-wracking, and the one she had to get the most precisely right. With Victus she had friendship and a warrior's kinship to fall back on. Sparatus, however, was the consummate turian. And the one she really didn't want to actually offend.

She might have argued with him in the past, but she'd never made the words personal, and neither had he. She admired his ability to stick to what he thought was right and that he never backed down from an opinion in the manner of a politician's sly tongue.

She took a deep breath, then palmed the door control into Sparatus's office.

"Shepard?" he said, glancing up as she entered. He glanced at his console, presumably checking his messages and schedule. "We don't have an appointment," he added, no annoyance coloring his voice, though his brow plates were a bit lowered.

"I apologize. I'm making a social call," she said, voice on the warm side of neutral. "I can come another time if you prefer."

He narrowed his eyes at her slightly, head lifting a bit.
"A social call?" he asked, then let out a low hum in his throat. "Well, you're here. No need to spend further time with a separate appointment. What did you need?" he asked, voice warmer than usual, tapping his screen closed and giving her his full attention.

"Garrus and I are hosting a small social event later this week aboard the Normandy. I'm going to be sending you an invitation shortly. We would be pleased if you could join us. General Oraka has just accepted his invitation. We'll also be asking the Primarch, if he's available. And I think you know Tactus from his work here on the citadel. General Corinthus, if he happens to be around."

The list seemed to surprise him a little. She didn't see it on his face, but perhaps in the way he paused just a moment too long before answering. "You do me an honor with the invitation. An esteemed list indeed," he said somewhat formally. He hesitated, the way he always seemed to do when he was watching her, trying to suss out just how naively human she was going to be.

"What sort of social event are you planning?" he asked quietly, though she could see he clearly suspected by the way his mandibles were drawn in and his head was tilted.

Thankfully, years of dropping bombshells in conversation had toughened her nerves against stomach butterflies and wobbly voices. She shrugged a little as she spoke, "Food. Socialization. Bed-sport, for those who are interested," she added, mimicking Garrus's earlier words as well as his matter of fact tone. Though she couldn't quite resist sending the Councilor a significant flick of her eyebrows and a slight smile to go with her words.

She had to give him credit. He didn't even flicker a mandible in surprise - probably showing her the respect of expecting that she knew turian facial expressions enough to bother hiding his response. Though perhaps he wasn't even surprised. He did know about Garrus, and he had allowed the slightest hints of speculation to grow apparent in his gaze at her when they had interacted recently.

Despite their disagreements, he had certainly proven to be both savvy and efficient at all times, as well as a most effective leader during the galaxy's most challenging times. She was beginning to feel fairly certain that everything he did was chosen carefully.

"How very… turian," he said, sitting back and folding his hands in front of him in a characteristic pose that she had come to notice meant he was actually somewhat relaxed, despite the formal appearance.

"I try," she replied, falling into her usual cheeky grin and relaxing a bit, crossing her arms. "As you are inter-culturally savvy, I wanted to deliver the invitation in person since it is perhaps not the usual sort you get from a human. I wanted it to be clear it was not a human style gathering."

He nodded his understanding and then paused for a moment, considering his steepled fingers. She resisted the urge to equivocate further, having learned over the last few years that he was not waiting to make her uncomfortable but rather because he was considering the complexities of their interaction. He was a galactic councilor, after all, from a species that based its culture in a frickin' meritocracy.

"Please forward me the details. I will be certain to send you a prompt response once I examine my schedule," he said with a nod. "Now I'm afraid you must excuse me as I have some pressing matters to attend to," he said, tone actually genuinely regretful and polite.

"Of course," she said, giving him a formal nod. She felt a slight twinge of disappointment. It sounded like a dismissal, despite the polite tone. He sat up, turning his console on again and getting back to the unending supply of work and she turned to leave him to it.

"Commander," he added as she was turning away. She glanced back as he leaned forward onto his elbows, shooting her a hot green-eyed look that had a flare of excitement threading through her abdomen. "It is a very… pleasing invitation. If I am able, I will very much like to attend."

She grinned back, maintaining the gaze they were sharing, feeling the sexual tension swell in the room.
"I'll look forward to hearing from you," she said, voice gaining a thread of low sensual heat as she walked backwards out the door.

Chapter Text

Garrus had assured her that approaching Tactus in person would be unnecessary for her to do. The man would be intrigued enough by the message and invite list to at least attend the cocktail hour, even if he left before the bedsport began.
But Garrus wanted to hopefully avoid the latter option. So he made sure that he went by the refugee camps, just to make his presence visible in case Tactus wanted to ask him about it. Though he realized there was a chance that Tactus would bring it up with Sparatus, since his name was clearly on the invitation as well.

He had just finished checking in on the camp gossip with an old C-Sec buddy down in bay E24. The turian had more or less adopted one of the human refugee girls. She'd just turned legal age so the limited child services were no help. Rivus had explained that he was helping her find a job, loaning her his couch. Helping her deal with the fact that while many people in the galaxy were now returning to loved ones as the aftermath of the reapers settled, her parents were still gone.
It was hardly a rare story, but seeing the grin on Rivus's face had warmed him.
That hope, the bonds of friendship and love, that was what they had fought so hard for.

He'd seen Tactus see him - though he had to admit, he was a bit hard to miss the way people kept looking at him and nudging their companions to say isn't that him?
Fortunately around here most people were too busy trying to piece their lives back together to be concerned about some turian who had supposedly saved the galaxy with Commander Shepard.

He made no move to approach him. He wandered through the bay, nodding to James who was in his habitual location playing cards, waiting for the off-chance possibility of seeing or hearing about someone he knew among the refugees. He never talked about it, but they all knew why the lieutenant was there.

He made his way back to one of the area's he'd frequented some months ago, looking at the Shepard VI with a significant degree of amusement. He waited a few minutes, listening to it rant about how it could take on the reapers if only someone would install it in a mech body.

"My personality matrix can predict what the REAL commander Shepard would say with 7% accuracy!" it said in a tinny rendition of his lover's voice.

"Probably less than that," Tactus said, walking up beside him to share in his regard of the hologram. "Considering how… unique she is."

Garrus glanced at him with a wry smirk. "Definitely."

There's a moment of silence as they listened to the VI announce, "Anyone ever tell you you're one hell of a looker, soldier?"
Garrus laughed at that. Oh the irony. If Shepard ever actually took the time to play with the VI copy she'd gotten from Mouse, he was certain she'd tease them all to no end with the lines. He'd never tell her that he'd had a copy since the thing came out.

Tactus huffed a near-silent laugh, shaking his head at the interface.
"Hell of an invitation I got the other day," he said with a sidelong narrow-eyed glance at Garrus. He folded his arms and cocked one hip. "Surprising - especially that I got one at all. I worked with you a few times, but I only met her the once when she traded me medical supplies."

Garrus shrugged, "You know how it goes. Really, you shouldn't be surprised by turian standards, considering that next to Sparatus, you're probably the Citadel's highest ranking turian."

Tactus snorted at that. "I'm just a captain."

Garrus raised a browplate at him, saying, "You know full well that'll likely change as soon as high command gets re-organized."

Tactus flicked his mandibles in a dismissive move designed to mask the hint of embarrassed pleasure that crossed his features at Garrus's words. "Perhaps." He wouldn't have been turian if his work getting some recognition didn't inspire a bit of pride.

"Sparatus and I have both been impressed by your work here. I know first hand that you made a real difference when things were bad. Shepard was impressed too even though she met you just the once; you stuck to your guns, but were reasonable and effective, and you helped her with the war. That's enough to earn you an invitation by Shepard's standards," Garrus confirmed with a nod.

Tactus looked at him, considering.

"Besides," Garrus said, with a mischievous tilt to his head. "She likes your stripe," he stated, flicking a glance up at the long narrow band that stretched the length of his topmost graceful arc of fringe.

Tactus's jaw went slack at that, mandibles flaring in surprise.

Garrus patted him on the shoulder as he turned, leaned close, "And I like making sure she gets what she likes. Usually works out pretty damn well for everyone involved," he murmured, tilting his head an inch too close for just friendly. He paused just a second longer than casual.
"Hope to see you there, Tactus," he said, walking away without a backward glance.

Chapter Text

Shepard was ready.
She glanced at herself one final time in the mirror, shaking the water off her hands in the sink.

She'd sent the invitations, gotten all the affirmative replies. Though he'd accepted verbally, Oraka had officially responded in the affirmative mere minutes after she'd sent the formal invitation. Sparatus, true to his word, had sent her a prompt response telling her that he was pleased to report his schedule could be freed for that time, and that he would look forward to attending.

She hadn't heard back from General Corinthus, but she knew he was extremely busy traveling from ship to ship in the Turian Fleet, working to re-establish appropriate hierarchical structures within the bounds of appropriate crew psychologies. Garrus had explained that his military experience and firmly intact hierarchical position was making him an excellent assessor of which crews could be dismantled and re-forged, and which needed to have promotions from within made to maintain an effective team. It wasn't a job she would have wanted, but it seemed like it might be less wrenching in turian culture than it would for humans.

Not long after Garrus had returned from his mysterious sojourn onto the Citadel, Tactus's acceptance came, simple and straightforward. She didn't doubt that Garrus had interceded somehow. She cast a sidelong glance at her lover as she came out of the bathroom. But he hadn't mentioned it so she didn't ask.

Garrus had also asked to be the one to bring the invitation to Adrien Victus, given their prior friendship and service together on the battlefields of Menae. The way Victus had come to rely on Garrus aboard the Normandy had given her an impression that they shared a sense of closeness she had never seen between Garrus and anyone else before. And Victus made him laugh, which made her really happy.

Shepard had a feeling that there might have always been a little something more than just friendship between them. She was fairly certain Garrus would have told her if something had happened between them. He was so careful to try and play by human rules it was truly touching. Not that she thought she would have minded, the more she came to understand turians.

But there had been... something. And he'd seemed a bit more excited and a bit more nervous about inviting Victus than he had anything else in the whole adventure.

And the thought of seeing the two together… well. It made her anticipation for the party shoot to ridiculous levels.
She may or may not have masturbated to that idea once or twice. She cast an assessing gaze at her lover through the wall with her model ships as he poured himself some turian brandy. Perhaps she ought to mention it to Garrus, just to see the look on his face.

She made her way into the living area and ran a hand over Garrus's back as he finished pouring his drink. She glanced over the setup again. She had worked with Steve to procure some high grade turian foodstuffs and drinks. Then she had worked with Sam getting everything set up in her quarters. They laid out an array of drinks on her desk by the living area, and set up a variety of hour'devours on the low coffee table between the couches and chair. She'd re-arranged a few chairs so the seating area was much larger.

She'd been careful to treat it as any other diplomatic function. Sam would greet them at the airlock as they each arrived, then guide them to the elevator. EDI would prevent anyone not on the guest list from coming up to her cabin once the guests had arrived.

Other than that, she had little to no plan. She liked it that way, keep it loose like a mission. There was the old military saying; no plan survives contact with the enemy. She knew that one was damn true - from plenty of direct personal experience.
She was also pretty sure that it applied to sex as well.

But yes, she thought, with a roll of her shoulders that had Garrus chuckling (as it usually preceded a rush into battle or her punching someone), she was ready.

She glanced at him as he laughed at her, smiling at him. Garrus was wearing his nice clothes, the ones that did funny things to her insides. They made her think of words like right and home and happiness in addition to more lascivious thoughts.

She was wearing… clothes. She glanced down at her shirt and leggings. Sam had picked them out. They looked something like what other females wore on the citadel, minus the whole ridiculous skirt thing that seemed strangely popular. She guessed they looked nice. They had some lines and shapes in them that reminded her a bit of Garrus's clothes. She figured they had to be appropriate in some sense if Sam had picked them.

Garrus moved over to her and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against him.

"Shepard," he murmured, gazing down at her.

She smiled up at him, leaned her chin against his chest.

"Everything's going to be great, right?" she said. "I'm not going to start any wars or anything if I say something wrong or whatever, am I?" she added with a self-deprecating laugh at her notoriously blunt 'diplomacy'.

He shook his head, a reassuring rumble in his chest. "Everything will be great. We've chosen well; no diplomatic incidents will be able to rear their ugly heads with this group. Quite the opposite, really."

Then he tilted his head and the rumble in his chest deepened into full out laughter.

"What?" she asked, grinning up at him.

"I just had a ridiculous mental image of you explaining to Udina how this party would be improving relations between humans and turians."

She laughed in response. "I think his head might've exploded in outrage at the thought."

"Good thing you shot him then," Garrus said with a laugh. "But seriously Shepard, this is going to be great," he said, looking down at her.

She looked up into Garrus's eyes. His mandibles flickered fondly and she smiled softly - then grinned, and then his eyes went hot in response. He dragged his hands a little more roughly along the curve of her waist, gripping her tightly to him as he dipped his head to nuzzle the side of her neck. She nibbled at the tough skin of his neck, leaning into him and slipping her hands up the back of his head to stroke the underside of his fringe. He rumbled appreciatively and his hands slipped under the edge of her shirt.

As if on cue, the door chimed to indicate someone had arrived.

She chuckled and stepped back from his embrace, though he was reluctant to let her go.
"Alright. Let's do this," she said, cracking her knuckles. He laughed and she shook out her arms with a grin, turning and heading for the door.

"Right behind you, Shepard," he murmured, which earned him another grin tossed back over her shoulder.

Victus was the first to arrive - a bit early even. He clasped Garrus's forearm firmly with a smile, some of the tension he always carried like a mantle since that reaper thing fading by the moment. She grinned at the way Victus held on to Garrus's arm just a bit longer than was normally appropriate, and the way Garrus's mandibles flared a bit in response.
"Garrus, Shepard, it's so good to see you both," he said as he turned to Shepard and clasped her forearm in the same manner, albeit more briefly.

"You too," she said with a grin. She was glad he'd been the first to arrive. He was the one she'd spent the most time talking to, the one she'd developed an easy camaraderie with. They had shared a great deal in terms of perspectives on the war, on tactics.
They had even been through each other's losses.
She fetched him a drink, some turian ale. Made sure he settled into a comfortable chair next to Garrus and let the two begin to catch up. She fetched an Irish red for herself and was just cracking it open when the door chimed again.

When it whooshed open at her behest, it revealed Sparatus, precisely on time, with Tactus beside him. They were almost opposite in coloring; where Sparatus had white markings, Tactus's were boldly purple. Where Sparatus had dark skin, Tactus was lighter gunmetal grey. And Tactus's tawny eyes were light and cool where Sparatus's green emerald chip eyes were hot.
"Councilor, glad you could fit us in to your schedule," she said with an easy smile.

"As am I, commander. Thank you for your invitation," he said formally, then relaxed a bit. "Even people like us can use some R & R now and again."
"Sometimes you just need a change of pace. Deal with some tension," she agreed.
And then Sparatus was giving her the look. And damned if she wasn't pretty sure she was giving him the look right back.

But before things got too out of hand, she remembered there was someone else to greet. She turned to Tactus who was eyeing her inscrutably, his bare mandibles tight against his purple-marked face.

"Commander," he said, bright purple tongue and lining of his mouth flashing over the word.

"Tactus, I'm so glad you could come," she said, letting her gaze go polite again.

"I was honored at the invitation," came the somewhat stiff reply.

Shepard nodded, turning to usher them into her quarters. "We haven't had a chance to talk recently with all the chaos, but I want you to know your support meant a lot during the war. Your supplies saved the lives of some of my crew who were injured in our final push on Earth."

He ducked his head in acknowledgement, "I'm glad they made a difference. I know the supplies you traded us helped a great number of turian refugees," he said, relaxing a little as he followed her into the cabin.

When he nodded she couldn't help the quick glance up at the perfect length of purple stripe that started in a curved design on his top plate and disappeared back over the top of his fringe. Garrus grinned at her with a browplate raised in teasing as he noticed her leering as she led them down the steps into the living area. She bit her lip in embarrassment. It really was a sexy stripe.

"Primarch, have you met Tactus?" she said, doing her best to play polite hostess - not that she really knew what someone did hosting a social event.
All her 'parties' usually simply involved her getting drunk - which somehow snowballed into an event, usually by way of collecting random marines and crew and acquaintances in a pub-crawling adventure that ended with half of them in a C-Sec drunk tank to sleep it off.

Damn but she missed Omega. She'd have to remember to check in with Aria to see if there was any way to convince the Asari that it was time to give up a pinch of pride and let Shepard help her retake her home. Just for shits and giggles.

"Adrien Victus," he said, standing and extending a hand to the younger turian.

Tactus gripped it solemnly. "Tactus."

Victus nodded briefly, "Garrus has been telling me of your dedicated efforts on behalf of turian refugees on the Citadel. Impressive work."

"I'm honored you think so. We're all doing our best." Tactus nodded again, flicking a glance at Garrus - who had a look on his face that said 'Told you'. Tactus shrugged as Garrus handed him a beer and sat at the corner of one of the couches.

She wondered what that was all about.

Sparatus opted for some of the turian brandy she offered, though he followed her over to the drinks table rather than sitting and waiting for it. He took the offered glass, then carefully leaned against the desk next to her, gazing at her with intent green eyes.

"I've been looking forward to this," he mentioned with studied nonchalance, taking a sip of the brandy.

"Me too. We've known each other a long time now, but never really had the chance to get to know one another," she said, tilting her head at him.

"Hmm," he replied, eyes narrowing a bit. "It is good then, that it is not your usual sort of party," he said after a moment. "Those events don't seem particularly suited towards getting to know someone."
She leaned on a hip next to him, allowing herself more proximity to the formidable councilor than she ever would have outside her quarters. "Which event? Humans', or mine in particular?"
He cast her a sardonic look. "Both. Your usual rampages on the Citadel do tend to attract enough attention and cause enough problems to cross my desk in one form or another."
"Well, what can I say?" she said with a self-deprecating laugh. "Omega's out of commission, and I like to have a good time when possible. Makes the rest of it seem more manageable."

He huffed a small laugh in response. "A good time…" he murmured, gazing at her. "Indeed," he said, lifting a hand and carefully stroking a knuckle along the soft skin of her throat on the underside of her chin.

But the evening was just getting started, so he left it at that.
"Truly, thank you for the invitation," he said.

"My pleasure," she replied, letting a slow smile slip onto her face.

He laughed, raising a browplate as he stood.
"So it would seem," he said with a nod and then turned towards the rest of the group and he moved over to sit beside Tactus, who was listening to Garrus re-tell the "Get that thing off my men" story.

Shepard just leaned back against the table and watched the four turians in her living room talk for a moment as she savored her drink. Oraka was surprisingly the last to arrive, considering that he'd been more or less the initiating factor in the whole event - well, perhaps not so surprisingly. He did seem like the most likely to be fashionably late, after all. She checked her chrono just as the door chimed. And really, it was only fifteen minutes after the appointed start time. She set her beer down again and made for the door to greet Oraka.

But to her surprise, there were two turians on the other side instead of just one.
Oraka flared his mandibles at her. "Look who I found just coming in to dock!" he said, waving at his companion with one hand. The other hand was wrapped firmly around the other turian's waist, she noted with a grin.

"Commander," the other turian said, voice rough as he extended his dark brown hand. His cream markings were very similar to the Primarch's, and he had bright green eyes much like Sparatus.

"General Corinthus!" she said in some surprise, returning the firm grip. "I didn't think you were going to make it."

He nodded once, "I only received your invitation an hour ago when we cleared the relay, so I wasn't going to spring my presence on you, much as I would have otherwise enjoyed accepting your invitation. But I ran into Septimus here and-,"

"I insisted he come. I know, it's atrocious behavior, but he's an old friend I haven't seen in some time and I just couldn't resist taking advantage of the delectable opportunity you've created." Oraka said, taking her hand and lifting it to his mouth in a surprising rendition of an old human gesture. "Do forgive me," he said, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles as he continued to hold her hand a bit longer.

"I'm glad you did," she said with a small laugh at Oraka's antics. "Please, come in. Do you know everyone?" she asked, glancing back as she led them down the steps.

"Of course," Oraka said, glancing down at her. "I always know everyone worth knowing. What a delightful group you've selected, Shepard," he murmured to her with a wink. He feathered a flirtatious touch along the back of her neck then down her back as he moved past her into the living area. She bit her lip at the ripple that wound its way down her spine at the tantalizing contact.

Garrus had risen to exchange a hand-grip with Corinthus, then Oraka. She stepped back to let the other turians exchange pleasantries. Garrus followed. He ran a hand along the curve of her shoulder as he passed her to fetch a few more drinks to share around. She exchanged a grin with him, taking the drink he handed her as he moved back to the others, carrying a handful of drinks.

"Yes, I know Adrien of course," Corinthus said, nodding to him as the Primarch lifted his ale in salute. "And I've met the Councilor," he continued, as Sparatus rose to greet him.

"Sparatus, please," he said, shaking hands with him.

"And this is Tactus," Sparatus said, turning to gesture towards the younger turian who was moving over to be introduced. "He's been indispensable in managing the refugees on the Citadel these past months."

"General, I've heard a great deal of your accomplishments back on Palaven. It's an honor to meet you."
Oraka came over as well, saying, "Good to see you again, Tactus."

For all their formality in introduction, the turians settled easily into the relaxed chatter of a group of friends. Which they were, for the most part. Everyone in the room had at least one person they were personally familiar with, so it wasn't surprising when before long there was easy banter.

Garrus even prodded her into regaling them all with the story about the time their suit coms had shorted out on a mission and they'd had to resort to hand-signals… but turian and human military hand-signals had some very important non-overlapping points, and they'd ended up on the completely wrong side of the plan from each other and ended up storming the wrong building.

That sparked a series of military stories about the various mishaps any soldier endures. Some were funny, others just ridiculous.

Corinthus started a story about how one of his soldiers had come up with an unconventional use for the shipment of hanar art supplies that had been improperly sent to Menae.

She finished her beer and ate one of the little foods, a pink cube on a little toothpick. She knew that it wouldn't provide her with any nutritional value, but she was enjoying the experiment nonetheless. It tasted sweet, a lot like candied ginger.

"What does this taste like to you?" she asked Garrus, handing him one of the same pink squares on a stick.

He grinned and popped it in his mouth, rolling it over his tongue before swallowing it and replying. "It's spicy, a bit bitter, with a tangy after-taste. You?"

"Sweet, really sweet and tangy. Like candy. What is it?" she asked.

He laughed, shaking his head at her. "Really Shepard, putting strange things in your mouth again?" he teased, voice going low and hot.

Victus snorted where he sat on the chair to Shepard's right. She grinned at him.

"It's the pickled heart of a tuber grown in the more tropical regions of Palaven," the Primarch explained.

"Try this," he said, selecting another snack and bringing it to her lips. He let out a low "Hmm," as he watched her open her lips to receive it. He placed it in her mouth and she closed her lips over the treat and his fingers as she took it into her mouth, letting her eyes linger on Victus as she did so. She could feel, more than hear, the pleased rumble in Garrus's chest behind her as she sucked slightly on the Primarch's fingertips.

But then she was distracted by the explosion of flavor in her mouth. It tasted like nothing she had ever experienced before, foreign dextro versions of chemicals reacting with her tastebuds. Her eyes went wide as she sucked on it, sitting back and savoring the experience. Eventually she finished chewing it and swallowed.

"Wow," she said.

"One of the more interesting turian foods a human might sample," the Primarch said, leaning back in his chair looking pleased as he gazed at them.

"You can say that again," she muttered, glancing at the tray. Probably not something she'd eat often - if ever. But it was certainly worth the experience at least once.

She leaned back against Garrus and turned to press her lips to the side of his scarred mandible.
"So, when do we do this?" she whispered against his cheek.

Chapter Text

When Garrus pulled her into his lap and smirked at her the way he did before a battle, her heart rate shot up. She settled her hands on his shoulders as she straddled him. She could feel her throat tightening in nervous excitement as her pulse thundered in her neck. He stroked long firm fingers around the curve of her waist, blatantly suggestive in the presence of so many of his species.

She didn't take her eyes off him, but she could hear the conversations growing quieter in the room. Eventually the voices trailed off altogether.
His eyes held hers, silently asking and confirming. The trust between them was almost a tangible thing.
Mission parameters green. Good to go.

Slowly he slid her top up so that the bare strip of skin above her hip was visible. Her fingers trembled where she gripped his shoulders. Garrus let out a soft low purring sound as he caressed her bared skin again blatantly. She joined in the foreplay, stroking her hands up the sides of his neck and up the underside of his fringe. They gazed at each other in excitement. They had given their signal, inviting the others to join them in their play

Oraka was the first to rise. He strode over and ran a hand up the curve of her spine, slowly threading his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck. He let out a pleased purring click that sounded dirty as all fuck. Garrus apparently agreed, and was appreciating it given the way he tipped his gaze up to grin at Oraka. Garrus let out a low, inviting growl.

What happened next surprised the hell out of her. A chorus of turian voices responded in kind, lower and throatier for some, chirruping for others. The look on Garrus's face was explanation enough however. He looked unbelievably turned-on as he skimmed her shirt up higher till she lifted her arms so he could pull it over her head. Oraka's hands skimmed along faintly following the path of the shirt, feathering touch along her arms.

Garrus balled her top up and threw it straight to Victus. She watched as he lifted the garment and smelled it, taking in her scent with a low rumble. It was a startlingly erotic sight.

Oraka slid a digit down the bared curve of her spine, causing her to shudder against Garrus, arching into the hand stroking her. He unsnapped the closure of her bra, smoothing the cloth off her shoulders and down so that she was topless. He tossed the garment aside absently.

In a smooth show of turian strength, Oraka gripped her by the ribs and lifted her off Garrus's lap, tugging her body back against his.
"Oh this is going to be such fun," Septimus whispered in her ear as she let herself press back against him, reaching her hands back to touch the sinewy muscle of his thighs pressed behind her own.

Garrus reached forward to glide his hands over the curve of her hip, then down between her thighs. As always, his touch sent spirals of pleasure through her skin, his crystal blue eyes like electricity where they passed over her.
Oraka nuzzled the back of her neck, scenting her hair and her skin. Garrus moved his hands back up to slip inside the waistband of her leggings. Slowly he began to peel down the tight layer of her leggings over her hips and off her feet. She leaned back against Oraka as he did so, digging her fingers more firmly into his legs and eliciting a pleased hum from the esteemed general.

Garrus took the leggings into his hands and held them up to his own nose, scenting her too with a low rumble. The little habits she suspected he suppressed most times with his human lover were apparently coming closer to the surface in the presence of his own species.
Spirits but she loved it.

She loved the whole thing. She glanced around the room, taking in Sparatus with his emerald eyes, watching her intently, Corinthus sitting back, watching Oraka. Victus was leaning forward, eyes on Garrus as much as Shepard. Tactus in his corner of the couch, watching everyone.

But one thing was abundantly clear.
"Is it just me or is everyone else really over-dressed for this party," she said, voice breathier than she would have liked.

That got a surprised bark of laughter out of Sparatus.

"Too right, Shepard. How remiss of me to not observe the proper protocols of attire," he said with an amused rumble as she turned her head to look at him. She grinned at the turian equivalent of a smile on his face as he stood and began undoing the toggles of his tunic. The smile turned into a glinting gaze as he flicked the garment open.

She held his gaze with hot eyes and watched as he disrobed in front of her, slipping the tunic from his shoulders and cowl with a graceful shrug. Even removing his clothes he managed to maintain his high level of confident stature and aura of power. He tossed the clothing over the arm of a nearby couch, and began the same task with his trousers.

She wanted to begin the familiar task on her lover, but Garrus was still out of reach since Oraka pressed her back against him tightly as his hands roamed the curve of her waist and then slowly up between her breasts. Having her naked body pressed against a fully clothed turian who was not her mate was certainly doing some interesting things to the integrity of her knees. He smelled different from Garrus. There was no faint scent of gun oil. There was the undertone that she had come to recognize as basic turian, but Oraka's scent was complex, cologne layered over his skin and the scent of his clothing and whatever it was washed with.

Victus stood and came near her, brushing a hand over Oraka's arm and another over the curve of her waist, stroking up the length of the other turian's arm between her breasts to touch the dip of her collar-bones beneath her throat. She smiled back at him, then he passed by them to take up a seat next to Garrus. Garrus turned a hot gaze on him, letting a low purring rumble sound in his throat.

Ok that got her juices flowing.

Victus turned his torso to Garrus fully, leaning his elbow on the back of the couch, gazing at the younger turian with hot eyes. He reached forward nonchalantly with the other hand, stroking a knuckle up Garrus's thigh.
It was only a faint touch, only a small motion, but the waves of tension between the two were loudly apparent.

"Most excellent," Oraka murmured in her ear, speaking aloud the sentiment she felt.
She chuckled in response. "Agreed."

He tightened his grip on her ribs in return, laughing lightly against her hair. "I think Sparatus has the right idea," he added, stepping back and leaving her standing alone and naked in a room full of turians. She glanced around as Oraka stepped back, hands coming up to his tunic to start disrobing, but then Sparatus was there, stepping closer with perfectly measured steps. As always, his posture was erect and he was gazing down at her with those green eyes, now the only other fully naked occupant of the room.

"Much better," she said, half-turning to him with a smile as he stepped close to her, near but not touching. She resisted the immediate urge to touch him, waiting for him to officially touch her and signal his participation. She watched as his mandibles flared and browplates rose slightly in pleased surprise as she waited, respecting appropriate protocol (for once) in his presence.

She half expected a smart remark, but he merely made a pleased rumble before reaching a hand up to stroke along the line of her jaw. She tipped her head up slightly with a sigh, exposing even more of her neck to his explorations. His triad of fingers splayed across her throat, then dragged lower to touch the dip of her collar-bones then lower over the firm skin over her solar-plexus.
Move made, she was now free to respond in kind. She ran her hands over his dark plates, tracing the lines and ridges on his torso. He was narrower in build than Garrus, but still hard and very turian. He studied her nude form with a similar intent, slowly lifting his other hand to touch her hips, her waist.
She didn't know whether this would relieve the sexual tension that had been growing between them lately, or merely magnify it, but she was pretty sure she didn't care.

One thing she was certain about was that meetings with the council would never be quite the same again. She let her hands roam freely, getting to know the councilor, as it were. The skin under her hands was simultaneously more leathery (she was beginning to think it was one of the few signs of aging visible on a turian), as well as smoother than Garrus's; fewer scars. But, she was surprised to note, there were still scars. A few good ones, too. She ran a thumb along one long line that spanned two of his intercostal plates.

"A duel," he murmured.

She gazed up at him in interest. She thought most turian duels were fought with pistols, not knives.

"Sounds like a good story," she said, tracing the length of scar again.

"Another time, perhaps," he replied in a voice that told her not likely.

She grinned wickedly and decided to add getting the councilor to spill to her list of Random Shit Shepard's Doing Now The Reapers Are Gone. The expression on her face must have said it all because he sighed and glanced away (not before she caught the glimmer of a smile he tried to suppress) shaking his head.

"I should just give up now, shouldn't I?" he muttered. But then he didn't wait for a reply and taking her head by the chin he dipped his head down to nip at the line of her jaw. He pressed his other hand into the small of her back, causing her body to arch into his. She slid one of her legs over his to stroke her bare skin against him. He responded by grinding one of his thighs up between hers, pressing hot skin against her center in a move that had her sighing breathily.

Head tipped back she noticed out of the corner of her eye as Garrus reached forward and laid a hand on the Primarch's chest. The motion drew her full gaze, despite the tantalizing distraction of Sparatus being so close.
Garrus's trio of fingers splayed flat across Adrien's chest, inching upwards towards his collar. They paused at the gap at the neck, tracing the outline of the clasp. Slowly he started undoing the toggles on Victus's tunic. She watched as Garrus took to the task with teasing slowness, and the way Victus just looked back at him with lazy eyes…

There was definitely chemistry there, she decided. Chemistry so hot she felt it from where she stood. The way Victus propped his head on one fist and leaned slightly closer as Garrus's hands smoothed his tunic back, baring his grey chest, more iridescent-blue than Garrus's silver. The way Garrus grinned up at him as he began sliding his hands lower to begin undoing the Primarch's trousers...

"Mmm," Shepard murmured, making her own purring sound of appreciation at the sight. Garrus cast a grinning glance at her and she smirked back with an encouraging flick of her eyebrows.

As she rocked her hips forward against Sparatus's thigh between them she could see Tactus in her peripheral vision watching her as Sparatus's hands dipped along the curves of her body. He was sitting back in the sofa, legs crossed, watching with narrowed eyes. He made no move towards any of them. He was the most suspicious member of the group, least well-known, and probably the lowest ranking, though rankings were still a jumble as Palaven high command re-worked its hierarchy as casualty lists continued to flow in.

That was fine. She had taken Garrus's advice and spent more time reading up on turian customs. Turian social rules said he could stay right where he was the whole evening if he so desired - once. If he accepted a second invitation with the same group he would be expected to participate or excuse himself before the food was gone.

When Sparatus lifted his head she turned her gaze to Oraka. It seemed that the esteemed general had gotten a bit distracted, she noticed, glancing back to where he was once again sitting next to Corinthus, nuzzling the other turian's neck. She was pretty sure that was technically breaking the rules (not that Oraka had ever seemed particularly famous for following them, not since his retirement at least) but Corinthus didn't seem to mind given the way he had turned his gaze on the half-naked general and was slipping a hand around his waist in return. She grinned.

Sparatus was studying her carefully when she looked back. She winked and inched closer, pressing her bare chest completely up against his, hardened nipples dragging roughly against his tougher hide. She shuddered slightly as she rubbed against him, sliding her hands over his hips. He ran a hand up her spine till it tangled in her loosed hair.

"Softer than I expected," he murmured, stroking his fingers through it.

She raised an eyebrow at that, but he simply looked down at her with those sharp green eyes, giving away nothing. She smirked, slipping her hands up his waist and over his back.

Oraka, now fully disrobed, came up behind her. With no preamble he walked straight up against her so that she was wedged between them. He wrapped his hands around her waist, pressing his pelvic plates against her behind, ratcheting up the pace.

Sparatus dipped his head to scent her neck, the dragged his rough tongue over the sensitive skin below her ear. Oraka did the same on the other side of her neck, letting out a low rumble. Sparatus whirred promptly in response, ending with a decisive click.

Those instinctive and predatory behaviors teased her autonomic arousal even higher than before, setting her heart pounding and her skin tingling. Her breath hitched in raw excitement as they pinned her between them, hard bodies tight against her, profoundly turian. Rough hands roamed over her body swiftly, leaving no inch of her untouched. In a behavior that had her nearly purring, their hands delved further from her body to touch each other as well.

For a brief time, Oraka traced his hands after hers, following and repeating all her motions on Sparatus's body. They were a tangle of limbs, slipping hands over each other, breaths coming a little tighter and faster from all of them. She lingered on his fringe, tracing the lines and ridges of the back of his head and up under the gracefully arching crests.

Then suddenly Sparatus was kneeling down on one knee, and Oraka was grinding his hips against her, holding her steady against him with a firm grasp on her hipbones. She watched, wide-eyed as Sparatus raised a hand to stroke behind her knee, lifting it with effortless strength so characteristic of turians. He settled her foot on his upturned thigh, spreading her legs so that her sex was exposed to his gaze. He tipped his head close, scenting her with a predatory growl.

She shuddered with arousal at the sound, of feeling his hot breath on her most intimate places, and the feeling of Oraka's hands tight on her hips, locking her where she stood. With no warning, Sparatus's rough pointed tongue darted out to taste her. She gasped, head rocking back against Oraka's shoulder.

"Mmm, delicious," the general murmured in her ear, looking down over her shoulder to see Sparatus tilt his head even closer and stroke his tongue hard through soft folds. He stroked his hands over her skin as he watched. She could feel his pelvic plates shifting against her, loosening in arousal.

When she tipped her head back down, the space left by Sparatus had her gaze alighting on Tactus, who was still seated on the couch directly across from her, watching silently, motionless. His eyes were riveted to where Sparatus was swirling his tongue against her. It put him more in the category of voyeur than participant, and the thought sent a rush of nerves through her body.

She reached down a hand to stroke along the side of Sparatus's fringe as his tongue slid slowly against her sex, eliciting a pleased growl from him as her fingers made contact.

From this vantage she realized suddenly that his markings were not so dissimilar to Tactus's. Though his face bore much more graceful sweeps and curves of pattern, Sparatus too had a long, thick, perfectly even stripe running the entire length of his topmost fringe. The white marking contrasted sharply with darker more chocolaty skin, highlighting the shape perfectly where it ran to the very tip.

"Oh!" she said, surprised as she stroked a finger the length of it. She really didn't understand why the white strip sent a pulse of arousal straight to her clit, but why didn't really matter when she literally had the object of her arousal between her thighs, especially when the throbbing in her clit was met with a rough swirl of tongue. She gasped out another moan as he nipped the sensitive nub with the edge of his firm lips. Her odd little fetish paired with the assault of two turians on her skin had her nearly trembling with sensation.

"How did I miss that?" she demanded breathily, turning an astonished and brightly bemused look over to Garrus, who was watching her activity avidly even as his hands stroked along Victus's chest, dragging his tunic off along with them. She glared at him playfully even as the slow motion of his hands on the Primarch's shoulders had her growing distracted again.

"Wondered how long it would take you to notice," he teased in reply as he tugged the Primarch's clothing aside, tossing it somewhere behind him.
And then Sparatus's tongue, flicking roughly over her clit once before moving away leaving cool air to rush over the hot moisture on her folds, had her distracted completely. The councilor had lifted his head slightly, turning his emerald gaze on her and raising a browplate in query, removing the stripe from her view once more.

His perfectly erect posture was probably to blame for her never having had the opportunity to look at ...fine; ogle his topmost crest. Plus there was the fact that when he spoke, they were usually actually discussing something important enough to hold her attention, unlike certain other councilors. Too bad (not) that that would be completely spoiled now.

"Tell you later," she said with a chagrinned smile.

"Hmm," he said in reply. It never ceased to amaze her that he could put so much sardonic information into a single syllable. He gazed up at her a moment, and she could tell by the set of his brow that he was considering whether or not to tease her about it. Her breath was coming fast and her body ached at the loss of sensation at her clit. She was actually considering begging him to resume his attentions.

Fortunately for her dignity, Oraka's hands presently slid along the vee of her hips to tease at the outer folds of her sex. He dug his fingers in, pulling at her skin so that she was even more exposed to the turian between her thighs, presenting her to him.

"Oh do please continue," Oraka said over her shoulder to Sparatus. "She makes the most wonderful sounds when you taste her."

Garrus made a purr of agreement from her left and she smirked at him. Oh hell the way he looked with his hands on Victus's hips!

In response Sparatus made another "Hmm," sound and darted his tongue forward again, swirling roughly around her bared clit.

She moaned sharply, body jerking against the tight hold Oraka had on her, proving the general's point, however unintentionally. He sighed breathily against her hair and she could feel his erection slipping forward below the cleft of her ass between her spread thighs as she rocked against his hips.

Sparatus maintained the firm hold he had on her ankle with one hand, but the other, which had been resting on her thigh, now slipped inward. He stroked it up to her center, coming up to cradle Oraka's cock, pressing it up flat against the folds he was laving his tongue over so that it rubbed under her, tip curving forward between her thighs.

The curves and ridges of a turian cock were familiar to the touch, and yet sharply strange. She'd never thought to ask Garrus if the patterns of bumps and ridges were uniform throughout their species or if they changed from turian to turian.
She had her answer now, it seemed, as she felt the shape of the general against her sensitive flesh.

It was almost too much - and they'd barely begun.

Chapter Text

Corinthus moved into her view, gazing with interest at Sparatus's movements. His tunic was already gone (likely Oraka's doing, she thought with a smirk), though his still had his trousers on. He had yet to touch her or Garrus and signal his participation. His green eyes were unfathomable as he surveyed the three of them. His arms were folded across his chest, partly covering the fascinating ombre pattern of brown skin that faded to cream along the higher ridges of his plates. For a brief moment she worried that she was missing something as hostess. She didn't know the general well enough to know if there was a particular source of his hesitation, but her concern was soon alleviated.

When Sparatus slipped his tongue lower so that he swirled it over Shepard's folds and the tip of Oraka's erection nestled against them, both of them let out soft sounds of pleasure. Clearly that was sufficient incentive as Corinthus stepped forward decisively, running a hand over her shoulder to officially initiate his participation. She smiled at him and he inclined his head in response.
He stroked his fingers gently down her arm, head tipped down to watch. Slowly he pressed closer so that his bare chest touched her arm, hand sliding back over her shoulder till it came into contact with Oraka's.

He leaned his head in, nuzzling her neck softly, and Oraka's head lifted from her other shoulder, turning to face the younger general. She could hear them hum at each other, then felt Corinthus lift his head and slide his cheek against Oraka's as he nuzzled the side of her neck. Corinthus's free hand slid along her waist and absently dragged along the lines of muscle that crossed her abdomen before stroking over Oraka's hand where it was pressed into the curve of her hip against her lifted thigh.

She couldn't see very well with them somewhat behind her, but she could hear soft open-mouthed sounds and feel the heat of their breath on the nape of her neck. When she tilted her head she thought she saw them extend their tongues and rub those rough surfaces against each other's. Kissing wasn't something most turians did, but it was a big galaxy. Clearly the two of them had picked up a few new tricks here and there.

All of them had, considering the way Sparatus was laving his tongue over Oraka's erection beneath her. Another body-part turians traditionally avoided letting other turians' wickedly sharp teeth near. Without the direct stimulation on her most sensitive bodypart, Shepard relaxed a little, simply reveling in the heat of three turians touching her, touching each other. She watched as Corinthus's hand slipped down over her short curls, then down to brush the top of Sparatus's fringe opposite her own, eliciting another pleased murmur from the councilor.

While Sparatus was distracted by the head of Oraka's cock between her thighs she gazed back at Garrus. Tunic gone and trousers loosened, the Primarch had resumed his lazy position on the couch. Garrus was stripping off his own tunic, pressing himself tightly against Adrien's side once the garment was tossed aside. He ran a rough hand down the Primarch's bared side, leaning his weight on the hand as it settled against the couch seat on the other side of Victus's body.

For all his nonchalant posture, Victus was clearly enjoying himself, pelvic plates loose and erection visible among the fabric of his trousers. The growl Garrus let out was positively wicked as he slid against his friend, bringing his face into close proximity as he ducked his head into the curve of the Primarch's neck. Adrien released some of his hold on nonchalance, tipping his head back with a low murmur to give Garrus freer access to his neck, hand drifting down to touch Garrus's shoulder as he pressed his face close. When Garrus bit down sharply on the proffered skin, Victus let out a surprised moan, hands coming up to grip Garrus tightly to him, bare chest to bare chest.

She heard a murmur from below and realized she had stroked her hand far more roughly over Sparatus's fringe when Garrus had bit Victus.
Abruptly Sparatus returned his attention from Oraka's tip up to her most sensitive nub and she was again distracted on her own gasping moan. Suddenly all three turians seemed intent on her again instead of each other. This was truly an embarrassment of riches. He flicked and sucked on her clit with sudden and unexpected fervor, making her shake against the tangle of hands that gripped her, ankle, hips and waist.

"Such lovely sounds you make, Shepard," Oraka reiterated against her ear. His hips moved slightly against hers, and between her thighs Sparatus's hand stroked the underside of his shaft as her moist sex slickened him up.
Corinthus nipped gently at the curve of her shoulder as his hand came up to cup one of her breasts, rolling a rough battle-worn finger across her nipple. She arched against his hand and he tightened his hold, pinching the bud between his fingers.

Sparatus was unrelenting in his assault on her clit and soon she was shaking from the effort of keeping balanced on one leg, knee desperate to buckle in uneven little spasms of her quadriceps. She bit her lip as she strained against all the hands and sensations.

As Oraka slid his hips forward again, Sparatus abruptly pressed upward on the General's erection, guiding him straight into Shepard's cunt. The shock of Oraka sliding all the way into her with one hard thrust while Sparatus licked her clit was enough to send her crashing straight over the metaphoric cliff's edge as though she had flung herself bodily off it. Standing the way she was, balanced precariously on the toes of one foot as her leg muscles clenched and tightened, only added to the wildness of the feeling. She would have fallen but the numerous hands gripping her body and limbs held her steady as she threw her head back, crying out as the orgasm flashed through her.
Oraka groaned as she clamped down around him, rocking his hips against hers as she shook in his arms.

"Oh. Wow," she breathed as she blinked away the white-out of sensation and settled back onto her heel. She grinned, glancing over at Garrus, who was staring hard at her, mandibles flared wide in appreciation. When she glanced down, she realized she still had a hard grip on Sparatus's fringe with her left hand and she let go, biting her lip in chagrin. But she lost any embarrassment when he lifted his head because Sparatus was looking far too pleased with himself, kneeling below her.

"Ok, let me down," she said, voice breathy as she pushed gently at all the hands holding her. Sparatus set her foot down from his knee and eased back gracefully. Corinthus relaxed the grip he had on her wrist, offering his palm to hers in support as she moved forward.
Oraka growled slightly as her body slipped off his erection but she turned to him immediately, putting her palms against his bare chest and pressing him backwards.

"General, won't you join me on the bed?" she purred, winking at him.

"But of course," he replied and kept pace with her as she directed him backwards towards the nice soft yet firm surface.
Instead of laying across it or head up towards the headboard, he turned and sat on the side before swinging his legs up and so that his head was towards the foot of the bed. His head tipped back so he could gaze over at the other occupants of the room with a light chuckle.

"What a delicious view," he murmured, gazing out at the room. Corinthus had moved along after to them, pausing to stand near the chair where his tunic had been discarded. He worked at the fastenings of his trousers, glancing down at an upside-down Oraka with a brief flicker of his mandibles.

The sight from their vantage was reminiscent of the position she had been in just a week ago, discussing this plan with Garrus. Complete with voyeur, she noted, what with Tactus sitting on the couch across from the foot of the bed, eyes sharp on them.

"Isn't it though?" she replied sliding onto the bed beside him and running her hands over his smooth dark chest.

Tactus turned his gaze to Sparatus when the councilor walked over to him and looked down at him for a moment. She watched them as she caressed Oraka's skin. Or tried to watch. The swollen shaft of Septimus's cock was a delightfully distracting shade of purple that nearly matched the vivid coloring inside his mouth. She heard the faint murmur of sounds as the councilor said something, and then Tactus replied, just as inaudibly. The councilor made a short reply, then turned and drifted over towards them, leaving the younger turian to his own devices once more.

"Getting acquainted, are we?" Oraka murmured, tipping his head down to watch her fingers tease and trace the grooves near the tip. He sounded flirtatious as ever, though perhaps with a hint of tension in his voice. And indeed, his cock was throbbing beneath her touch, blue veins faintly visible beneath the translucent purple skin.

"I thought it would be polite," she replied with a smirk, looking over at the general in her bed. She slid one long muscular leg across Septimus, rolling up over him on the bed to straddle his thighs just below his cock, letting it slide along her body. She stroked it in her hands, marveling at the way his pattern of ridges and bumps was so different from Garrus's.

Speaking of her love… When she glanced over, she noticed Garrus was watching her with avid interest, even as his hands slid lower to brush against Adrien's cock. The Primarch was watching Garrus. Tactus was watching them all.
She grinned down at Oraka and lifted her hips forward so that he was beneath her again as Sparatus drew nearer. She twisted her hips slightly so that the tension would hold his erection steady against her folds. Then, casting a sultry look over at Garrus, she let her body slip down over the esteemed general. He practically purred as she enveloped him in one motion, fingers coming to rest on her thighs.

He felt good inside her. Similar to Garrus in that he was a turian, with sharper ridges and bumps than a human male and wide base. But different too. She rolled her hips, testing the waters. Slowly she tensed her thighs and lifted, tightening her inner muscles around his length as she drew up slowly. She sank back more quickly, making a pleased hum at the friction through her entrance.

Sparatus neared, coming to stand at the side of the bed. His plates had loosened, and his erection was jutting from his hips, long and lean like its bearer. His cock did not have the vibrant blue coloring Garrus did, nor purple like Oraka. It was a deep navy-blue shade with bright silvery iridescence - much like the primary shade of the formal clothing he often wore as a councilor. Shepard bit her lip to stifle a laugh at the thought.

Those council meetings were. Never. Going. To. Be. The. Same. Again.

He slid onto the bed near her thigh, tipping his head to watch as Shepard lifted herself up off of Oraka, then ground down again with a twist of hip.
He raised a browplate and his mandibles flickered as he looked down to find Oraka's hand on his cock and Shepard's hand sliding up his thigh. They both smirked at him with equally mischievous expressions. He stroked a hand over Shepard's hip in response, returning her look with heat in those emerald eyes.

Corinthus, now fully disrobed, moved closer to stand at the foot of the bed and reached down to brush along Oraka's fringe. Then he straightened and ran his fingers through Shepard's hair in a similar gesture. She leaned up into his touch, using the motion to swirl her hips and rock Septimus's cock around inside her body in a delicious way as she lifted.

Oraka purred and lifted his other hand to stroke Corinths's pelvic plate, which was mostly loosened. Though she watched Corinthus, Shepard let her hand slide up Sparatus's thigh till it reached the join of his hip, swirling her fingers over the base of his cock even as Oraka continued to stroke lightly at the underside. Their fingers both teased lightly over the taut dark flesh, brushing against each other even as both of them were riveted to the sight of Corinthus's cock descending from his hips. Like his ombre-patterned chest, his erection was a different shade than the others', the color of dark caramel that had been dusted with gold flecks dipped in a pearly gloss. Quite possibly the influence of whatever colony he was from. She vaguely remembered something about that when she'd been scouring her codex.

Oraka stroked the general's length with a confidence that bespoke familiarity, browplate raised as Corinthus gazed down at him with an inscrutable expression. Very interesting. Shepard approved. She stroked Sparatus's erection absently as she watched Oraka do the same to Corinthus.

While the generals got re-acquainted, she glanced back at Garrus and Victus on the couch. Garrus, she noticed, had managed to lose every stitch of clothing and was pressed hungrily against the Primarch.

She watched as Adrien's head tipped back and Garrus nipped and nuzzled his way down the ridges of the Primarch's throat and chest. He rumbled low in his throat as he closed his eyes and slid his face down the hard planes of Adrien's abdomen so that it pressed between the loosened fabric around his waist and his erection. Then his eyes snapped open and latched onto hers as he stretched his tongue out. Slowly, he pressed forward to stripe along the length before him, gazing at her with hot eyes.

Because she could, she leaned forward and mimicked Garrus's motion, sliding her tongue out so that she could stroke it across the tip of the general's erection. Garrus winked before he turned his gaze on the throbbing cock he had his mouth on. She looked up. Corinthus turned his gaze to her, mandibles flaring in surprise as she repeated the lick. As he did not draw away, she leaned further still, opening her lips wider. When she took the tip of Corinthus's golden cock into her mouth he hummed low in his throat.

"See? I told you she would be pleased you came," Oraka teased from where he lay, head cocked, a perfect vantage point beneath the both of them to watch her lick him. She laughed around the cock in her mouth, grinding roughly against Oraka in response, poking at his chest with a knuckle even as she used him for balance.

She began moving so that each time she rocked forward up off Oraka's erection, her head slipped down Corinthus's length. Septimus let his fingers chase her mouth along the underside of the general's cock, stroking and teasing. Then, feathering against the soft skin under her chin, running them down her throat and between her breasts to lay against the flat of her abdomen as she rode him. Corinthus's fingers dragged along the back of her head, slipping through her hair as he tipped his head back on a pleased sigh as she paused her rhythm to suck firmly at the tip.

Movement to her left drew her eye, gaze slipping over Tactus where he sat, ever silently watching - though she was pleased to note that one of his hands had shifted from the seat of the couch up to brush over the cloth of his trousers.

But the movement that drew her attention and had her mouth slowing in its attention to Corinthus was Victus gripping Garrus's shoulder and pressing the younger turian up and away from his lap. Garrus had just dipped his head down to lick a circle around the base of the Primarch's erection but Adrien was having none of it.
Garrus gazed at him with a raised browplate as the Primarch stood. Then he mischievously dipped his head forward towards his erection again, licking it before Adrien could stop him with a growl and a firm hand to his fringe. Garrus tipped his head back slightly, mouth falling open. Adrien looked like he couldn't decide whether to thrust forward into his waiting mouth or shove him back.

Shepard grinned, lifting her head back to Corinthus's cock as she struggled to remember to keep multi-tasking with the three turians she had in arm's reach. Oraka had not neglected Sparatus, fingers stroking firmly along the councilor's length as the man gazed about the room, ever patient. His hand roamed over her hip and teased at her waist as she moved beside him, a physical reminder of the abundant occupants of her bed.
Riding Oraka steadily, she resumed stroking her fingers around the ridges of the councilor's erection beside her and swirled her tongue over Corinthus's length, all the while keeping an eye on the unbelievably hot sight of Victus standing with his hand on Garrus's fringe, cock inches from her mate's mouth.

Would he thrust forward?
But the Primarch was not known for being impulsive. He grunted and stepped back, relinquishing his hold on the other turian. For once, Garrus took his cue and settled back slightly to watch as Victus finished removing his trousers with precise motions. Now disrobed, Victus threw the fabric sharply past Garrus and leaned forward, putting his arms on the back of the couch either side of Garrus so that he could look down at the younger turian. Garrus defiantly lifted his hands again to stroke the length of Victus's erection, even as he tipped his head back, partially exposing his throat.

Oraka's hand slipped up her abdomen to cup one of her breasts, running a thumb over her nipple. Not a part of the body that usually did much for turians, but the general was clearly an experienced enough lover to know that such attentions were certainly welcomed by her, rolling the taut bud between his fingers as she undulated over him.
Corinthus groaned as Shepard sucked sharply at his tip, swirling her tongue over the ridges of the head. The sound drew the attention of Garrus and Adrien as Corinthus let out a gruff grunt, thrusting his hips forward involuntarily into Shepard's mouth, chasing the soft wet heat of a human's cheeks.

In a move that was probably a bit uncomfortable, Adrien tugged roughly at the base of Garrus's cowl below his neck, drawing the younger turian to his feet with a low rumble. She could see now when he stood that Garrus's familiar blue erection was long-since descended and hanging bold between his hips.

Victus didn't relinquish his grip, pulling Garrus backwards with him and over towards the bed. They walked past where Corinthus was standing at the foot of the bed, glancing at their progress over his shoulder. Putting another hand to the curve of his waist, Adrien turned Garrus so that he was being backed into the foot of the bed beside its current occupants.

At Adrien's shove, Garrus fell backwards, landing on the soft white coverlet beside Shepard. In one smooth move Adrien knelt, growling and shoving Garrus's thighs apart and dipping his head forward to lick a long slick stripe up his turgid blue length. Garrus sighed in a sound rich with subvocals. Shepard made a pleased hum that was echoed by Oraka's as the Primarch rasped his tongue roughly over the underside of Garrus's shaft.

"Shepard," Oraka murmured. She drew her head back from Corinthus's cock and looked down at the other general below her. He pulled her down close to him so that the tips of her breasts brushed his chest and her face was hovering over his. She pressed a kiss to the point of his mandible, making a, "Hmm?"

"Darling," Oraka murmured, voice rather taut, "You're killing me with this delicious slow torture."

She squeezed her internal muscles around him and he thrummed in response, chuckling lightly, subvocals as tight as his mandibles were to his face.

"Exactly. If I may?" he asked.

She didn't know what exactly he was asking permission for, but he had been completely unerring thus far in his actions. "Of course," she replied with a grin, sitting back on his erection and pausing in her rocking in order to accommodate his will.

One of his hands slid to grip her firmly around her waist. With an expert twist of leg and hip he rolled them, still joined, and pulled her under him. Her left hand tipped over so that it landed against Garrus's thigh. His hand slipped down so that his fingers tangled with hers.

She let her thighs fall open as Oraka ground firmly into her, arching her back up so that her abdomen pressed against his.
Oraka was too far along to focus on much else, even with the tantalizing sight of Corinthus's erection so close. The other general stroked himself gently, merely enjoying the view as Oraka began thrusting into her.

Victus redoubled his efforts, causing Garrus to grit out a tight moan as the Primarch enveloped the whole of his tip in his mouth, despite the array of vicious teeth. As Oraka fucked into her at a steadily accelerating pace, both she and the others watched Victus, fascinated as the Primarch sucked on her lover's cock. His tongue slipped out past his mouth to swirl along the ridges and bumps.

When Oraka changed the angle of his hips so that the top of his pelvic ridge ground against her clit she moaned sharply, body shuddering in a demi-orgasmic pulse. He repeated the motion immediately, purring at her response as she gasped out another throaty sound as her internal muscles clamped down on him.
With a growl, Garrus tugged the Primarch's head back by his fringe, vibrant blue erection straining in the space between them, glistening with saliva.

She flicked her eyes to his face as he turned to look at her, gaze hot as he watched her body rock and pull with each of Oraka's thrusts. Her thighs gripped tightly at Oraka's ribs as he ground against her nub again, back bowing up on a gasp. The general was slamming into her at a rapid pace as he neared his completion. Garrus held Victus there, grip tight on his fringe holding him back from his throbbing erection even as the Primarch teasingly strained his tongue forward to taste him again.

The sight was clearly an exciting one for all involved, the way Oraka groaned as Victus's tongue curled towards Garrus, millimeters away. Garrus tightened his grip again, holding him back and causing Victus to let out a low growl. Shepard felt her body pulse at the sound, tingling pleasure radiating through her around Oraka's cock.

Oraka gasped out a rough breath as his hips jerked forward, out of sync with his rhythm. As he withdrew she clamped down on him firmly so that his next thrust was as tight as possible. His hands tightened sharply on her waist and he arched into her, groaning with discordant subvocals vibrating the air between them as he completed one last thrust forward, erupting inside her tight passage.

She pulsed around him, watching his tawny eyes go glassy as he relaxed over her, leaning on his hands on either side of her waist. He took a few deep heaving breaths, then sighed in contentment, exhalations hot over her bare skin. He nuzzled her cheek briefly and eased back, erection softening as he withdrew. She lay there, sprawled before him, grinning up at him. He rubbed his thumb affectionately over her knee beside his, then slid back to lounge against the headboard behind him.

She glanced over at Garrus, breathing a little harder than usual, breasts rocking slightly at the peak of her sprawled body with each breath. He gazed down at her, eyes hot as she ran her fingers down over her abdomen to touch the folds of her sex, swirling her fingers in the iridescent wetness of Oraka's release that coated her opening. When he had drunk his fill of the sight, he looked sharply down at Adrien, stroking a hand along his mandible.


"I want to watch you fuck her," he growled down at him.

Chapter Text

There was a pleased thrumm from multiple people at the request, herself included.
Shepard, still sprawled on her back where Oraka had left her, glanced at Sparatus, who was still sitting beside her. He had made a sound something akin to a purr when Garrus had spoken, with one hand on his cock and the other teasing faintly at the part of her closest to him; namely the tender skin on the inside edge of her knee. His emerald eyes glinted as he returned her look, one browplate rising as he lightly repeated his encouraging purr.

His eyes flicked away from hers then, past the foot of the bed, and not in the Primarch's or Corinthus's direction as he drifted over along past where Sparatus was sitting up nearer to where Oraka reclined at the head of the bed. Rather, his look turned back at the couches. His mandibles flared slowly and he raised a browplate. Shepard tilted her head back to follow his gaze, albeit upside-down again.

Tactus was still sitting where they'd left him, posture still stiff, face an unreadable mask, one had resting on the arm of the couch. His other hand, however, was no longer on the couch seat beside him, or his thigh. His trousers were undone at the waist, and a vibrant fuchsia erection was cradled in his lap, palm stroking over it slowly as he watched the proceedings. His eyes tightened and he paused as he saw her looking. She knew enough to know that unarranged voyeuristic masturbation was not in the rules. It was as though he dared her to comment on this deviation from social norms with his tight expression and narrow gaze.

But Shepard wasn't exactly known for following the rules. She merely smirked, and sat up to swing her legs around so she could face the Primarch and her lover. She cast a wink across the room at Tactus, and then she lifted up onto her knees briefly to press an affirming kiss to the curve of Garrus's mandible to more or less signal her agreement, running a hand over the taut muscle of his arm he had on the bed and was leaning on.

Garrus glanced at Shepard with a considering and confident look. She returned it. He didn't look away as he spoke.
"Take her. Fuck her however you want," he directed, mandibles flaring slightly as she grinned at him with sparking eyes. She rested a hand on his thigh as she leaned on him to look down at the Primarch, an inviting look on her face.

Adrien didn't hesitate to acquiesce to Garrus's request, rising from between the sniper's thighs to stand before Shepard who moved as he did, laying back slightly and arranging herself beside Garrus, propped on her elbows with her back to three others on her bed. He reached a hand forward to slide around the curve of her waist, the other gliding up the outside curve of her calf, gripping her knee and lifting so that her hips lifted and her back arched over the hand at the base of her spine. He notched one knee under her upturned one, kneeling on the bed between her thighs, spreading them wide.

As she looked up into his tawny eyes, he and drove his hips forward in one smooth stroke to bury his violet length into her. His passage was eased by Oraka's release, the sticky glimmering fluid lubricating her cunt as much as her own wetness did, anticipating more turian cock. The angled way he entered her, and the unfamiliar arrangement of ridges had her gasping as he slid deep.

Adrien held her up slightly, hips lifted against him instead of letting them fall back against the sheets, balancing his weight on his splayed knees, hooking her legs over his. Her back arched deeply, ribs flared, breasts tipping upwards, leaving her feeling completely spread open as only her shoulders and head lay against the sheets. His thrust was a shallow rolling of his hips that ground the ridges of his cock against the side of her opening, teasing the nerves there. The next was a deep driving stroke that mated them to the hilt. Her breath came shallow and tight, throat narrowed by the angle and the excitement.

And as though that weren't plenty to stimulate her, Sparatus and Garrus appeared in her peripheral vision as their hands moved closer. They seemed intent on overwhelming her senses. One out-thrust breast was clasped by Sparatus to her left, forefingers flicking the taut nipple firmly. Garrus traced fingers along the underside of the other, teasing the sensitive flesh there he knew would send shudders through her. She gazed up at him, meeting his eyes for a brief affirming and intense moment. All of it was intense.

She glanced up and back, looking to the head of the bed where Corinthus moved to sit next to the other general, who casually reached for his still-wet caramel erection, stroking it. As Oraka pulled Corinthus closer to him, stroking his erection, both of them watched her avidly.

All eyes were on her and the Primarch.
Surrounded completely on all sides by members of a species of predators - with intent expressions to suit, her breath hitched in automatic fight-or-flight response. Her position felt rather precarious, though she knew she was firmly held by strong arms. She was helpless to their whims, a feeling that had her moaning as Garrus's other hand closed on her other breast. She grasped unsteadily for purchase on the turians surrounding her, hand gripping Sparatus's thigh and Victus's shoulder.

They were unrelenting.

The Primarch alternated his thrusts in an unpredictable combination of deep and shallow, straightforward and askew, fast and slow. It kept her as thoroughly off-balance as the position her body was held in beneath him.
The wanton sounds she was making couldn't be stifled - and she didn't even try.

Corinthus let out another of his gruff low growls and Shepard couldn't resist throwing back her head to see even as Sparatus's head swooped down over her breast to nip up the bud into his mouth, pulling on it as his tongue rasped along it from the inside of his mouth.
Oraka was straddling Corinthus's lap, facing her. His fellow General was now reclining against the headboard where he had sat earlier. Garrus ran a hand down the curve of her abdomen in search of an altogether different bud as Corinthus growled again, head tipping back.

The cause of Corinthus's low sound was obvious as she watched Oraka slowly grind himself down onto Corinthus's erection, head tipped forward in concentration, weight on his arms, tawny eyes bright. The general behind him cursed under his breath, groaning again as Oraka enveloped him completely. She smirked up at Oraka, upside-down. He returned the look.

But then Garrus's practiced fingers found her clit unerringly and she moaned, head jerking back down on reflex as he began the stroking circling pattern she liked best. Adrien glanced down and deftly matched his pace to Garrus's motions, thrusting every two strafes. In a matter of moments she was hitching and stuttering beneath them, body clenching at each touch, each stroke forging new routes of tangling pleasure through her nervous system. The familiar pressure began to build in her belly as each sensation arrived faster than the previous could recede.

Then he doubled his pace, slamming into her as fast as, then faster than the pace at which Garrus rubbed her clit. Shepard gasped. Corinthus groaned. Adrien growled.

"Yes," Sparatus murmured, lifting his head from her nipple to bite gently along the curve of her shoulder. Her fingers were digging sharply into the taut hide of his thigh, clamped hard on his dark skin. He bit harder on the firm curve of muscle, tugging sharply on her up-thrust nipple.

The waves of pleasure crashing within her and into each other built higher and higher, dragging her off her balance into an exquisite pain of tension. It was too much. She let out a strangled throaty cry, head bowing up off the bed in a full-body contraction, pulling tighter and tighter as the overwhelming orgasm imploded in her core. It tightened, more and more. None of them stopped. They chased after her with relentless strokes and thrusts, pushing her further up on the peak. She was panting in tiny little gasps in her compressed ribcage, body too taut to even breathe. And then, it exploded fully through her, sending turgid ripples beneath the tension roiling through her body, dragging raw moans from her lips as she shook against them.

And then, gently, Garrus slowed his fingers, and the Primarch paced his thrusts down. The wave broke past her, and she sagged, falling limp in Adrien's arms, gasping deep heaving breaths, head lolling back onto the sheets. They all eased in unspoken coordination until each motion slowed to a crawl and then finally a halt. Shepard lay there, without breath enough for words she didn't have. Sparatus let out a pleased purr that had several of the others responding in kind.

"Fuck yes," Shepard added breathily, since she couldn't purr like them, and grinned.
Garrus let out a low murmuring laugh under his breath, leaning forward and nuzzling her neck as he eased his hand from her lower reaches.

"You're amazing, Shepard," he whispered.

Chapter Text

Shepard focused on getting her breath back and her thoughts steadied with her usual determination. It may have been one of the most overwhelming orgasms of her life, but it was clear to her that she was, at the moment, on the receiving end of more than her fair share of orgasms.

And Shepard liked to be fair.

Victus was still hard inside her, and both Garrus's and Sparatus's unsatisfied erections were visibly throbbing beside her.
But even as she began considering what she might do for the councilor, Sparatus eased back, dragging himself further up on the bed. With careless ease he lay on his side next to Corinthus, who was looking rather pleased with the general in his lap. The councilor had restraint, she knew, but more than she'd ever guessed. And if she was not very much mistaken, he was enjoying the torture of delaying his gratification, stroking himself with only the lightest brush of fingers as he watched Oraka's movement.

Regardless, though Sparatus was now out of reach, there were still two erections within her grasp that she intended to address. Though she was still throbbing with the aftermath of her orgasm, she rolled her hips experimentally against the Primarch. He growled faintly, pushing back against her. He eased his hold on her waist a little, letting her lay flatter against the bed, sliding her a little further up nearer where Oraka was riding Corinthus with torturous languor. Now a little further from the edge of the bed he once again spread his legs beneath hers, rocking his violet cock deeper into her. Then, Victus sent Garrus an imperious look accompanied by a sub-vocal hum that had the younger turian growling in reply and immediately slipping off the side of the bed.

Shepard lifted her head to watch, wondering what was coming. Then she was grinning fiercely up at the Primarch as Garrus moved in tight behind him, erection bumping his hip. The Primarch raised one anticipatory browplate at her and his mandibles lifted in pleasure as Garrus's hands glided along the dip of his waist and scraped along the ridged planes of his sides. Adrien arched against Garrus's chest, turning his head slightly towards the turian behind him. Garrus gripped the Primarch's fringe, tugging his head back and dipping his head to scrape his teeth along the edge of his neck. A low throaty rumble reverberated in the Primarch's chest as those teeth dug in a bit more firmly.

Releasing Adrien's fringe, Garrus maintained the tight grip on his hip with one hand, the other sliding down the lean curve of his backside. He was still buried inside Shepard, his legs still angled under hers. She curled one foot closer so her leg could rub against Garrus's thigh and Adrien's waist at the same time. Garrus winked at her over the Primarch's shoulder as his hands traced the most sensitive spots on Adrien's lower body.

The Primarch's spread and angled legs allowed Garrus easy access to his entrance, but even still, the Primarch leaned forward on his hands, exposing himself even more to the younger turian's teasing digits. Shepard tightened her inner muscles around Adrien even as Garrus climbed further up onto the bed and lined his own erection up, pulling a breathy groan from the Primarch between them. Then, finally, Garrus pressed forward, pushing himself into Adrien, fingers digging into the Primarch's waist, face tilted against his neck on a groan.

And then he thrust abruptly, yanking a gasp from the Primarch as Garrus hilted himself, and still pushed so they both drove forward, pushing Adrien even deeper into Shepard. Shepard used the leverage of her thigh around Adrien's waist to thrust back, grinding her hips up around him even as Garrus drew back. The position was difficult, but Shepard was plenty strong enough to manage it, lifting her hips with taut abs and rolling her body so that the Primarch's erection swirled within her. Garrus thrust again, the perfect direct counterpoint to Shepard's twisting motions. Adrien was panting over her, head bowed and body rigidly taut in his kneeling position as they both wrapped around him, plunged over and into him. There was no room for him to move, bound between them by tangled limbs and intent bodies.

As always, Shepard and Vakarian moved in perfect harmony, no words or hand signals needed to direct their convergence of purpose. They locked eyes in a triumphant glance for a moment, then returned their focus to watching Adrien's reactions. The Primarch's mandibles were tight to his face, his mouth hanging slightly open as he gasped for breath, eyes unfocused and half-hooded. Shepard could feel Adrien's thighs tensing, tremors shuddering through his body as they kept their relentless pace. The tension built steadily in his body each second that passed.

"Come for us, Adrien," she heard Garrus murmur against the Primarch's neck, digging his teeth into the skin there as he notched his pace up again. Shepard ground harder, clamping down on him with limbs and inner muscles alike. The Primarch let out a low unintelligibly breathy curse as they matched each other, thrust for grind.

Reaching past the Primarch to grip Shepard by the hip, locking her to the Primarch, Garrus suddenly changed his pace, going for deep, powerful thrusts that Shepard could feel right through Adrien's body. He gasped. The shudders increased, and Adrien let out a hoarse moan, body jolting as though thrusting against them though there was no room to thrust, pinned as he was between them. In his orgasm, he shook, nowhere to go but inwards as his cock erupted inside Shepard.

"Oh fuck," she heard Corinthus groan behind them at the sight, and heard the responding chuckle from Sparatus and a breathy moan from Oraka.
She glanced up to see Corinthus's hands coming to grip Oraka's hips tightly and drag him down once more, hips bucking up to meet the General in his lap, head tipped down on a growl as he came.
Shepard and Garrus loosened their tight grip on the Primarch, grinning equally smug smiles at each other and at Adrien as he sagged slightly between them, muttering "Spirits" faintly under his breath.

There was motion in her peripheral vision at the head of her bead, and then strong hands gripped her under her arms and dragged her up out from under the Primarch. His hips jerked as the sensitive flesh of his spent cock was pulled from her tight embrace, and Garrus groaned at his motion, tightening his hold on the Primarch's hips again.

It was Sparatus who was pulling her up between himself and Corinthus at the head of the bed. The general was looking spent, but well pleased. Oraka was sprawled wantonly beside him on the other side of her bed, pelvic plates still loose, semi-hard cock laying half-descended against his thigh as he gazed amiably at the other occupants of the bed.

Shepard was a bit out of breath herself as she leaned against the headboard and Sparatus's side. Despite the throbbing deep blue erection at his hips, he seemed in no hurry to avail himself of her body, and merely returned her quizzical look with heavy eyes and a languid expression. Still, when she let a hand slide up his thigh to close around his erection he drew in a sharp deep breath signaling his pleasure and gazed down at her with flinty emerald eyes. She grinned and relaxed back against his shoulder, letting her hand glide absently over his length. His trio of fingers traced an idle pattern on her thigh next to his.

Both of them gazed back down the length of the bed to where Garrus was rocking his body slowly against the Primarch's, eyes almost drifting closed as he nuzzled Adrien's neck, and stroked hands along his spread thighs. The Primarch was doing the same in response, head turned sideways, the hand not being used to prop himself up sliding back against Garrus's hip, pulling him tighter.

Shepard was amazed to feel a fresh tingle of arousal at the sight. She could feel the slick release two turians had already spent inside her, the faint soreness from the thrusts of two unfamiliar cocks in her body. And still, it seemed, she wanted more. Her fingers tightened in reflected desire around Sparatus's cock beside her as she watched her love enjoy himself, grinding slowly into the Primarch, gradually building back up towards their earlier, more frenzied pace.

But there was more to look at than just the two turians at the foot of her bed. Beyond them, opposite Shepard and Sparatus in the far side of the room, Tactus remained as he had been, hand stroking himself slowly, watching the proceedings avidly. Absently, Shepard adjusted the motion of her hand on Sparatus's length to the pace of Tactus's strokes. She saw Tactus notice her attention, then notice her pacing with a tiny flicker of his mandibles. Those mandibles drew tight against his face when she saw him transfer his gaze a little to her left, and she knew without looking that Sparatus had noticed too. Tactus's hand slowed slightly as his eyes narrowed, gazing at the councilor. Shepard's hand slowed with his, and she was pleased to hear a faint sound in Sparatus's throat.

"Think he'll come play?" she murmured. She recalled that the councilor had spoken a few quiet words to Tactus earlier and found that she wondered a little after all about what had been exchanged.

Sparatus made a noncommittal sound low in his throat as he continued to watch the younger turian. Tactus broke his gaze with the councilor to look back at Shepard. She had been keeping her gaze on Tactus and his lap, and now she met his eyes, not breaking the tension as she let a bemused and faintly predatory smile slip onto her face.
Gradually, after hesitantly glancing between them, he picked his steady pace back up, Shepard matching his every move. He watched her hand, moving with his, like he was stroking the Councilor's erection vicariously. Or Shepard was stroking his. It was a strange and erotic feeling, and she wasn't even the one being touched.

"We'll see," Sparatus added eventually.

Then the tight inhale of Garrus's breath drew her attention back to the bed. He braced himself one foot on the deck, the other thigh pressed tightly against Adrien's. The Primarch leaned on his fists, head arched forward as Garrus thrust into him. The gentle strokes he had begun with had grown into much harder thrusts. Adrien's hips rocked back in time to meet him, spent cock retracted but plates still loose in clear enjoyment. It had been a long buildup for Garrus, Shepard knew, leaving him more than ready for a fast finish. And the Primarch seemed intent on getting him there, pushing back against Garrus with almost as much force as the younger turian drove forward with, tipping his head up on a blissful discordant groan, mandibles loose, eyes closing.
And that did it, that deep groan, drawing an echoing one from Garrus as he stuttered forward, sinking himself deeply into Adrien's body, straining forward tightly to him. He threw his head back on a gasp, sub-vocals vibrating low as it turned into a moan as the orgasm crested. He rode it out, gasping for air, pressing his face against the Primarch's cowl as he came down. The Primarch let out a pleased rumbling purr and waited, stroking his hand gently along Garrus's arm around his waist.

With a satisfied sigh, Garrus eased back, and Adrien sank down to one side, gazing back at the younger turian with a pleased flicker of mandibles before he turned over fully and bonelessly lay down below an upside-down Oraka, fully and well fucked. Garrus grinned over at him, and then his eyes lit on Shepard, sitting between Corinthus and Sparatus at the head of their bed. They shared a look that was rich with happiness, pleasure, satisfaction, and more. Then he crawled easily up the bed to kneel in reach of her feet. She let go of Sparatus's cock as he gripped her ankles and pulled, sliding her down on the bed till her feet were on either side of his knees. She laughed lightly as he did so, and smiled lovingly at him as he leaned down and nuzzled her face.

"Want to go up again?" he murmured, pressing little nipping kisses along her neck and then down over her collar-bone towards her breast.

Chapter Text

Oraka let out a pleased hum at the suggestion and rolled over halfway so he could face Shepard and perhaps participate again. Corinthus too was sitting up from his indolent position. She looked up with a grin as Oraka and Corinthus both appeared in her peripheral vision, then gazed further up the bed between them to where the councilor was rising from where he'd been reclining on the bed, erection still jutting out from his hips.

"Actually, I think it's Sparatus's turn," she replied, gazing fully at him with hot eyes. He returned the gaze as usual, but did not approach her as she had anticipated.

"So Sparatus," Garrus said, sitting back and glancing over at Sparatus, "how can we best satisfy you?" he asked, remembering belatedly to play his role of host.

"You've got the pick of the litter," Shepard added with a smirk and a vague gesture at the five of them on the bed.

Sparatus glanced down at them with a raised browplate. He turned away slightly, and Shepard felt a flicker of concern, wondering if she'd made a mistake as host.

"I will certainly let you know. Soon," he said, looking back down at her with those hot eyes. "In the meantime...," he added, implying the rest of his comment by glancing with narrowed eyes and a smirk at the other occupants of the bed who were reaching for Shepard once again. And then Sparatus continued past them towards the one occupant of the room the rest of them had forgotten.

"Pick of the what?" Garrus muttered with an amused flare of mandible. Shepard just shrugged, causing her breasts to rock with the motion. Which caused Garrus's gaze to drop, and Corinthus's fingers to quest after a bobbing nipple. Though Garrus had grown to appreciate their shape, he was often more intrigued by the movement of her breasts. It seemed he was not the only one.
Garrus resumed his nipping kisses, teasing her other nipple briefly before he continued his trail down her abdomen and towards the apex of her thighs. He ran a finger down the folds of her sex, coating it in the slightly sticky mixture of iridescent semen left there by Septimus and Adrien. He smeared it around the nub of her clit, then dipped his head to lick the same trail his finger had left.
Her body, still sensitive from all their exertions thus far, shuddered under this new attention. Her nipples were teased and rolled by the generals above her. Garrus's tongue between her legs moved with tantalizing slowness, slipping over the curve and bump of her clit. Pulses of pleasure radiated from his touch.
As wonderfully distracting as the sensations were, curiosity got the better of her, and Shepard lifted herself up on her elbows so she could see over Garrus's shoulder where Sparatus now sat next to Tactus on the narrow couch. After only a moment, Garrus noticed her attention and lifted his head, then slipped back a little to follow her gaze to the far end of the room.

Sparatus, it seemed, was having none of Tactus's reticence. Though the younger turian hadn't touched either her or Garrus, and wasn't officially participating, he'd also broken the rules in his own way. That, apparently, made him more or less fair game, at least as far as the councilor was concerned. Sparatus lifted a hand to stroke the bright pink skin of his neck.
Tactus tipped his head down ever so slightly, exposing his neck to Sparatus's touch, though he otherwise didn't appear to react, his erection still cradled in his palm, but no longer being stroked. Sparatus was murmuring something to him quietly, and Tactus was replying in a low voice, mandibles pulled tight and brows lowered.

"Oh let him be, Sparatus," Victus said, laughing from where he lay beside Shepard, gazing indolently at the proceedings. "He's clearly human-shy."

Tactus turned sharp, indignant eyes on him at that.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about. They are really such strangely soft creatures," Oraka added, rubbing an appreciative hand along the underside of one of her breasts. She grinned at him and he returned the look in kind.

"Ah, perhaps you are right," Sparatus said, sighing in disappointment as he stood.

Tactus made a sharp rude sound of dissent. The other turians in the room responded promptly with a mixture of challenging and disbelieving and dismissive sounds. Shepard glanced at the others in some surprise and definite curious anticipation.

Their response had Tactus jerking to his feet.
Ah, Shepard thought as she grinned. Challenge Accepted.
Sparatus rose behind him, leaning close. Garrus slipped back further from the edge of the bed, mandibles flared wide and cheeks tight in obvious agreement with this change of plans. She grinned when Victus reached up to grab Garrus's arm, pulling him back down to the bed to spoon against him with front-row seats to the display before him.

Shepard was already sprawled back with her thighs pulled wide by Generals Oraka and Corinthus.
Oraka rubbed a long fingertip along the pink center of Shepard's hips, sliding the glistening iridescent mixture of her fluids and of turian semen over the folds of her sex. Then he dipped his hand and he spread her with two fingers like he was presenting her to the younger turian. She was hot with the anticipation of having her body filled again with another ridged and unfamiliar turian cock.

"Go on Tactus, fuck her," Sparatus said, gripping the younger turian by the cowl and guiding him closer to the bed. His eyes were as sharp as the emeralds they so resembled, staring into hers over Tactus's shoulder as they neared. Tactus's eyes were just as hard, dark gold as they tore over her body. Though he was still fully dressed, save for the fly of his trousers, he was all predator, stalking towards her. Her adrenaline spiked again, watching him.

Sparatus pushed Tactus down over her, though the younger turian did not appear to need much additional urging. He knelt, shifting his hips so that he could slip the peaked head of his hot-pink cock into her without further ado. Sparatus was right behind him, pushing him deep with two firm hands on his hips. He ground Tactus into her hard, his own erection sliding between Tactus's legs to bump against the underside of his pelvis. Oraka and Corinthus eased back, content to watch for now.

Shepard made a hum of pleasure, letting her back arch slightly as she rocked her hips against him, leaving smears of mixed fluids on the folds of his trousers bunched around his cock. She smirked and reached up to stroke her hands along the gap in the fabric at his waist, but he gripped her wrists, yanking them from his body and pinning them back against the bed beside her. He thrust again, arching Shepard's back even further, and dragging his thigh against Sparatus's cock as he did so. Sparatus made no move to mount the younger turian, apparently content to let his erection brush against Tactus's thigh. And to watch. As hot as it would be to see the councilor fuck the younger turian, she was glad. She wanted to see him come apart first hand.

The tips of her breasts were peaked right below Tactus's face, and he watched them with a curious tilt to his head as he thrust once more, sending them bouncing. His gaze narrowed and he dipped his head to nip at one, and Shepard let out a faint cry as she felt his teeth on the tender flesh. She received a growl in response. He pulled at her nipple with his mouth, sending a shudder through Shepard, her back arching under him and causing her hips to grind against his. But just as the bite was growing painful, he let go. Looking up she could see Sparatus's fingers gripping Tactus's fringe, tugging his head back sharply.
Shepard felt a wave of indignation and glared up at Sparatus - was he protecting her from the full extent of an aggressive turian fuck? She might appear to be soft by turian standards, but she was far tougher than she looked - heavy sub-dermal weaves and all. But then again, Tactus seemed to be enjoying the way Sparatus gripped his fringe, so she said nothing and instead ground her hips against Tactus again, savoring the new pattern of bumps and ridges rubbing inside her and the contrast of the smooth fabric against her bare thighs.

Abruptly he began a punishing pace, thrusting in short, hard motions that had both her and Sparatus moaning with the friction between them. She watched as Sparatus dug sharp fingers into the curve of Tactus's waist, pulling himself even tighter to the motions of Tactus's hips. As he leaned over her, hands still gripping hard at her wrists, keeping them pinned on either side of her head, she stared at him, the raw edges of a feral grin on her parted lips. Tactus's eyes were as predatory as Garrus's sometimes got when they really cut loose. She bared her teeth at him as she picked up his pace with her own hips. The grip on her wrists tightened but she did not submit, letting the tension in her arms build. It was not enough to throw his grip, just enough to up the game. He groaned in response, confirming Shepard's suspicion; Tactus liked it rough.

Sparatus's grip on his fringe gone, he dipped his head again to nip at her torso, dragging his mandibles along the flat of her solar-plexus up to her chin. His hands slipped up from her wrists to her shoulders. They ghosted over her neck, then with one hand dug into the bow of her collar-bone, his mouth nipping on the other side, so hard it was almost painful. He was thrusting with short, rough, almost desperate motions. Sparatus's fingers scraped along his waist and down over the sensitive ridge of his pelvic plates. Tactus moaned and played his hands down over her torso to clench around her waist, digging in sharply. She responded favorably to his fierceness with a hard grip of her own on his forearms. He nuzzled his face roughly against the rise of her shoulder and laved his tongue over her skin, scraping and leaving hot trails of saliva behind.

He rumbled low in his throat as he nuzzled her, hands clenching hard around her waist. But when he opened his mouth over the skin at the crook of her neck, there was a twin pair of low warning growls from Garrus and Sparatus. He did not bite down, but he gasped his breaths, mouth open, the tiny points of his teeth on her skin, the soft flesh of her throat. Sparatus's hand gripped the edge of his cowl hard, probably painfully. He moaned against her throat, sub-vocals vibrating through her, and thrust forward again, once, twice, then three times, before going taut. His body shook slightly as his orgasm rushed over him. His breath was hot against her neck as he exploded into her. She could feel the gush of fluid inside her and then the excess spilling slightly out between them to smear on her pelvis and thighs.

"Mmm," she murmured, laying pliant beneath him as he caught his breath, face still pressed against her neck. Then he eased his grip on her waist and lifted his head. Sparatus stepped back slightly to give him room. Tactus rolled off of her, looking slightly embarrassed. But she grinned at him, having enjoyed herself thoroughly, and he finally, for the first time since she'd met him, relaxed his features to return the smile before he lay back on the bed beside her.

And then Sparatus was the only one still standing - in more ways than one.

Chapter Text

Sparatus was the only one still standing - in more ways than one. The rest of them were sprawled on her and Garrus's bed in varying stages of exhaustion. He looked as haughty and proud as ever, standing at the foot of her bed, gazing at her with those hot emerald eyes.

She slipped down till she sat on the edge of the bed and lifted her chin defiantly, trusting him to read her human expression. And he did, responding by moving closer till he stood before her, expression unreadable. Well, not quite, she thought, watching the way his mandibles drifted out as she leaned forward, bringing her mouth in proximity to his erection.

She parted her lips, hovering closer but not touching. He stood still, waiting as she teased him with the hot caress of her breath. She gazed up through her eyelashes at him as she tilted her head to the side, still not touching him though she let her tongue slip between her lips to drag at the air over his erection. She moved her lips closer to the base of his dark blue cock, homing in on a thick blue vein. She pressed the pointed tip of her tongue there, on the ridge of the vein, tracing its shape. She followed the vein until it disappeared beneath one of the raised ridges on his cock. Then she ran her tongue along the dip and curve of that ridge, following it all the way to where it met with the other ridges at the tip. She heard a tightly controlled breath hiss from his chest as she swirled her tongue over the tip, letting her lower lip join it, pressing it under the lip of one of the ridges that ran across the underside of the tip.

She sucked firmly on the tip, then slipped her tongue along the underside, pressing forward so that it slid deeper into her mouth.
"Mmm," she said, pushing as far as she could go. She swirled her tongue, following every bump and groove.
When she looked up he was watching her, eyes narrowed, mandibles pulled tight to his face. He lifted a hand to stroke through the tousled locks of her hair, scraping gently against her scalp. She sucked and pulled until his strokes through her hair stuttered slightly. Then she drew her head back, letting him slip from her lips with a slick sound.

When she stood, he didn't move back. She leaned forward so that as her body rose up, his cock brushed past her chin and hit her breastbone, sliding in a long, saliva-laden trail between her breasts and down over her abdomen.
She gripped his hips, then lined her feet up and pulled, twisting so that he now had his back to the bed. She pushed him back, and he obligingly sat on the bed. She followed him down, straddling his waist.

She cast a heavy-lidded look over at Garrus, who was watching her with contented interest, Adrien's arm wrapped firmly about his waist where they lay together on the bed. Further up the bed, Oraka was leaning against Corinthus's side. Both of them were half-propped up against the headboard. Tactus on the other side was gazing at them with speculative narrowed eyes. She turned her gaze back to the councilor, finally between her thighs where she wanted him.

Well, almost where she wanted him. She let her lips part on a breathy murmur and lifted herself up higher on her knees, flicking her eyebrows at him as though daring him to protest as she leaned down, pressing her lips to the beginning of his top-most crest. She slipped her tongue out and slowly traced the thick white line the length of his fringe, the edges of her hair brushing over his head. His hands traced teasingly at the curve of her waist. She felt the hot rush of his breath on her solar plexus as her tongue swirled over the tip of his fringe.
Garrus laughed under his breath she turned a playful glare on him as she slipped back. She glanced down at Sparatus, daring him to comment, but he merely raised one browplate and tipped his head to watch her. She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed, signaling him to lay down. He obliged her with ease, settling into the soft fabric of the bed.

She pressed her hips forward so that her pelvis came into contact with his erection. The iridescent residue from the others glistened on her thighs and at her folds as she slid herself along his length. She settled her palms on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat through his intercostal plates, giving the lie to the calm and calculating look on his face.

She positioned herself so that her entrance was pressed on the ridged tip of his cock. She clenched her inner muscles around her entrance, dragging the soft flesh against the tip of him without drawing him into her. His nose ridge flared as he huffed a tight breath. His fingers curled into the bed-sheet below them as he tensed. But he made no move to thrust up into her as another person might, instead remaining at the mercy of her whims. Gazing into his eyes she slipped down an inch, then slowly lifted back off him. His mandibles flared slightly, but he did not move otherwise, eyes hard on hers. She drifted down again, this time taking two inches of him into her before rising up. After the erotic roughness of Tactus, her body throbbed and ached for her to give into a wild ride now. But she refused, taking her time with Sparatus. They'd both been waiting a while for this, perhaps longer than she'd originally thought. Besides, he seemed to enjoy the delay of gratification so well.

Slowly she lined herself up again, then began her descent, rocking her hips from one side to the other, taking more of him into her with each motion. He was long, and as she settled him deeply inside her she could feel the ridged head of him pressing firmly against the back wall of her passage. She rolled her hips, feeling her cervix bump against his cock.
She tipped her hips forward, then angled them back, feeling his shaft press at her inner walls as she rocked it inside of her. She repeated the motion, savoring the feeling of smearing the mixed semen of three different turians around the cock of a fourth. She started a slow and steady pace, grinding her hips down around his base in a circle before lifting slowly forward so that his length pressed firmly against her inner wall as she rose up. Then she would sink down fast and begin the process anew. All the while he gazed up at her, eyes hot, brow raised and mandibles draped in a faintly mocking expression. She could only tell by the flare of his nose ridges and the slight flutter of his throat that he was enjoying himself. She grinned, picking up the pace a little, determined to make him show his pleasure.

It was as though they were competing for who could hold out longer. Of course, she had already lost that battle to his tongue quite some time ago. But that didn't matter now. And it didn't seem like he was interested in playing fair now either. His fingers lifted to her pelvis, slipping down through the slick residue to brush over her clit.

"Fuck," she cursed as he found her, rolling the bud between his thumb and forefinger. He flared his mandibles tauntingly at her in response. His touch was steady and firm. Even though she still rode him, he moved with the rise and fall of her hips, relentless in his massage of her clit. No, he didn't play fair at all. His eyes were glitteringly bright as he watched her come apart over him. Her body began locking up, abs pulling tight and head bowing down as she rode him. Her hair spilled forward to brush at her cheekbones. The grin was dragged from her lips by a more wanton expression, mouth parted over breathy little half-curses. Her hips tightened and her pace stuttered, motions no longer smooth as she rocked over him. Her thrusts grew sharper and more desperate. Her breath was as uneven and abrupt as her motions. Suddenly she slammed down onto him, jerked up halfway and threw her head back, body going rigid over him as she gasped through a moan. She shook as the climax rushed through her, her hips instinctively pressing her clit against Sparatus's fingers.

She moaned again as the orgasm crested, regaining some motor control and sliding down on him, riding out the last waves of the orgasm with pleasure. She arched upright, lifting her hands from his chest and letting her head tip back on a satisfied sigh as she resumed her slow ride. But he was not unaffected, she could see. His face had slipped from sardonic to intent, and his hands were stroking and tracing the curves of her hips and thighs. She felt him reposition his feet behind her, bracing his feet more firmly on the bed so that he could respond to her motions. He began to drive up into her, meeting her moves with taut thrusts. His hold tightened on her hips, lower than the red marks left by Tactus's grip on her waist. Since she couldn't reach his fringe she settled for pressing her fingers into the dips at his waist, concentrating on clenching her inner muscles around him to best draw out his pleasure.

She clenched her internal muscles around him hard as she rose up again, as if she could drag his climax up through him. He bucked beneath her, exploding up into her like an erupting volcano, fingers digging hard into her hips, sub-vocals vibrating discordantly on his groan. His emerald eyes were momentarily glassy as he gasped through his orgasm, head tipped back.


Shepard grinned triumphantly, sitting back on her haunches as she surveyed the carnage before her. She was surrounded by six spent turians, all sprawled on her bed, watching her with expressions ranging from hot pleasure to shared pride, amusement, and sleepiness. "Good party," she decided.

She lifted herself off of Sparatus, sliding to her left so that she could lean down and press a kiss to Garrus's brow-plate before slipping back off the foot of the bed.

"I'm thirsty," she said, glancing around the room for her discarded beer. "Anyone want a drink?" she asked, casting a smirk back at her bed. Now that was a picture worth a few thousand words. She wondered if the designers had ever had any clue what that big bed would be used for.

Sparatus's wrist began to light up with the alert from his omni-tool. He sighed, sitting up and rising from the bed. "It seems my time is up," he said, gazing a Shepard a moment.

"I'm glad you came," she said as he made his way over to his neatly-stacked clothes.

He paused, glancing at her. "As am I."

She smiled. His mandibles relaxed and the muscles over his cheekbones contracted. Tactus rising from her bed caught her attention as Sparatus resumed dressing. The others were rising as well.

"Duty calls," the Primarch agreed, making his way to his clothes.

Shepard glanced around briefly for her own clothes, but finding no sign of them shrugged and leaned back against her desk to sip her beer as the others dressed. Garrus came over to stand beside her, slipping an arm around her ribs. She leaned her head against his shoulder.

Sparatus, efficient as ever, was the first dressed. He came and stood before them, offering them each a formal nod. "Thank you for the invitation. I had an excellent time."

"Our pleasure, Councilor," Garrus said, reaching out to shake hands with Sparatus before he turned to leave, offering nods to the other attendees as he made his way to the elevator.

Adrien wasn't far behind, and he exchanged grips with each of them.

"I'll see you soon," he said, casting a somewhat questioning gaze at Garrus. Garrus flicked his mandibles faintly, then glanced down at Shepard beside him. She narrowed her eyes, not quite sure she was picking up on the subtext. But she trusted them both implicitly. She grinned. "Absolutely," Shepard replied.

Adrien looked pleased, and so did Garrus. Tactus neared to say his goodbyes, and the Primarch stood aside.

"Glad you could make it," Garrus said, exchanging a handshake.

Tactus nodded. "This was quite the evening."

"I'll say," Shepard said with a smirk.

Tactus glanced at her, mouth opening slightly before his mandibles drew in tight to his face. Shepard glanced at Garrus briefly before she smiled at the captain once more, "We hope to see you again at the next one."

Tactus's mandibles flared in surprise and he looked at Garrus who flicked what Shepard recognized easily as an told you so brow-plate at him. Tactus nodded again in lieu of words. Victus was waiting for him and gripped his shoulder briefly as he walked with the younger turian. "So, talk to me about the citadel refugees," he began as they exited the cabin.

"We'll head out as well," Corinthus said, coming over.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice. We enjoyed having you," Shepard said, exchanging a handshake with the general. He turned to give the same to Garrus, and Oraka neared, settling his tunic over his waist.

Oraka reached down and cupped her jaw and cheeks with both hands, the muscles over his cheekbones contracting in a smile as he flared his mandibles at her. He dipped his head forward to press his lips firmly to hers.

"Oh, you beautiful thing, you," he said, lifting his head. "Let me know next time you're in the system. I'll organize a little get together I'm sure the both of you will enjoy."

She glanced at Garrus and smiled. "We’d like that," she said, voice warm. Corinthus slipped an arm around his waist as they turned to go, heading out together.

And then just like that, their cabin was empty.

She stood for a long moment, just sipping her beer. She pressed an absent kiss to Garrus's shoulder, then looked up at him as a thought struck her. "So, the Primarch," she said raising an eyebrow at Garrus.

He made a hum of agreement. "If you want to."

She smirked disdainfully. "Of course. Now what am I agreeing to, exactly?" she asked.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Oh Shepard. You never cease to amaze me. The Primarch was suggesting we… spend some more time together. You, me, Adrien. Whatever you want," he said, voice dropping low and sensual. "That about sums it up."

"I like this plan," she muttered, sipping her beer.

He laughed again. "Thought you might."

Shepard finished off her beer, gazing at the tangled bedsheets.
"Hell of a party," she reiterated.

Garrus gazed down at her for a long moment, eyes soft. She smiled back at him. She wrapped an arm across his waist and rested her head against his chest with a soft sigh of pleasure.

"Happy?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied, listening to his heartbeat. "Yeah, I am."