Re: Feral Fill 3.2
anonymous
January 17 2013, 00:54:24 UTC
Shepard leaned back with a quiet sigh, when he was done here maybe she could try convincing him to give her the comm unit. She ran her fingers through her hair absentmindedly and came away with dried flecks of blood stuck in her nails; disgusting. She glanced yearningly at her pack, there was a canteen in there she could use to clean up a little when Garrus finished with her leg. Then again, there was no telling how long it would take for the crew to find them if she couldn’t get her hands on that comm. Fuck it. She’d deal with a water crisis when it arose and not a moment before, the thought of that scum’s blood coming into contact with any of the myriad of open cuts in her skin made her cringe. Washing up was a priority, who knew what sort of diseases that bastard had been carrying? Probably things long since eradicated from council space, maybe a few choice fevers as yet undiscovered; she shuddered and Garrus paused in his work, glancing up at her face as though to ask her permission to carry on.
Shepard leaned forward to inspect his work and nodded approvingly, not so tight as to cut off her circulation but tight enough to dull the pain even if it was only a little. She felt a flutter of hope as Garrus reached for the pack once again, replaced by a feeling of self-mocking despair as he removed a blanket instead. He trilled softly as he tucked it around her, Shepard pulled her hands from the protective warmth to run them through her hair, dislodging the dirt and other muck from the day’s work. A hair-raising growl made her pause, glaring at Garrus. “Your temper tantrum is beginning to wear thin, Vakarian. I’m dirty and I intend to be presentable by the time Joker lands, which should be any minute now judging from the position of the sun.” She kept her voice low and even if peevish in the hope that Garrus might respond to the non-aggressive body language and muted voice.
She flinched back as he reached forward, finger running gently up the curve of her face to her hair, touching it almost hesitantly. He pulled at a lock and Shepard snorted, causing him to start. “Never knew you had a thing for redheads, Vakarian. It’s good to know, though.” She frowned as she felt his fingers moving through her hair in a combing motion, pausing every now and again to yank at a particularly stubborn snarl, and didn’t he just look so sexy when his attention was focused so completely on her? She watched his eyes darting as he looked for the tell-tale shimmer of rock in her hair, picked the blood from it gently, pushed it back behind her ears to gain access to the deeper layers. He pulled her forward slightly and she allowed it, curious to see where it might lead; he turned her slowly, attuned to her every twitch and adjustment as he put her back to his front and resumed his preening.
That was really the only word for it, she decided: preening; he was preening her, and she had never expected to enjoy it quite so much.
Shepard started as she felt a cold talon trace the shell of her ear, sending shivers of awareness down her spine. He circled her ear again, pressing into the soft hollow behind it as his thumb swirled about the lobe. She’d never really been aware of her ears as anything other than useful items to have, now she thought she might find a better use for them sometime; preferably when Garrus was in full possession of his faculties. His palm flattened between her shoulder-blades, bending her forward as he leaned in, his mandibles tickling the curve of her neck as he moved up to her ear; she could feel the warm puff of his breath as he nuzzled against it, catching it carefully in sharp teeth for an inquisitive tug. Shepard gasped; yes, ears were definitely suited for other things; she would make note of this. Garrus bit down reprovingly on her neck and Shepard held her breath.
Re: Feral Fill 3.3
anonymous
January 17 2013, 00:55:24 UTC
Evidently the moment had passed, he returned to her hair, allowing the gleaming strands to flow through his fingers as he lifted it up to bare the back of her neck. Shepard’s fingers clutched at the blanket, keenly aware of the vulnerability of her position and not entirely sure she liked it; she would get him back for this one day. He leaned in and she felt herself jump at the warm wetness of his tongue, running up the exposed portion of her spine, claws lingering at the border of her hair.
“Enough, I’m clean!” Her voice came out louder than intended and she chuckled when she felt him swiftly pull back. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, smiling mischievously. Her smile vanished when she remembered why they were out here in the first place. There would be time for playfulness later, night was falling and it was imperative she inform the Normandy of their position and in order to do that she had to get hold of that damn comm!
Shepard turned and pushed him back, her hands moved uncertainly over the clasps of his armor; if she took this any further, where would it stop? She had to set boundaries, to tease him like this when he was not thinking clearly was irresponsible. If he were truly conscious he would no doubt once again remind her that there were others she could turn to for comfort, would suggest something “a little closer to home,” and as much as she disagreed to proceed against his wishes like this would make her no better than that Blue Sun merc rotting in his compound. She pulled back, scooting softly along the ground; there would be another time, when they were both awake and aware, she scolded herself silently for even contemplating anything else.
Garrus apparently disagreed, catching at her wrist to pull her toward him once again, catching at the stays of his armor, pulling away the outer shell to leave only the soft material beneath.
Shepard swallowed, strangely nervous as she traced her hand up his chest to the vulnerable flesh of his throat, tracing her nails over the rough skin there. Garrus trilled softly, leaning into her touch and Shepard smiled fondly; he was bad as Urz, demanding that she pet him. She pulled herself in closer to nibble at the path her nails had traced and she felt his breathing grow rapid. She stuck her tongue out tentatively to taste his skin; dry, and oddly sweet? She licked again. Yes, there was a faint tang there; of course Garrus would have his own unique taste; why would she think otherwise? She smiled against his throat as he leaned back farther to allow her greater access. How would he react if she… Garrus growled as she bit lightly into his neck; she could justify this if she just called it sabotage, a necessary deception for his own good. In the worst case scenario she could simply keep this her little secret, a bit of guilty fun; there was every chance he wouldn’t remember this little episode, and if he did then surely he could forgive her.
His talons dug into her back and she winced, coming back to her senses abruptly and pushing him away firmly. This was wrong.
Garrus rumbled questioningly, and she pushed farther back. The more space between them the better, she was clearly no saner than he at the moment and it would be better for all concerned if they kept a friendly distance.
She pulled the blanket closer around her, slumping to the floor and resting her head in the crook in her arm. She heard rocks shifting behind her as Garrus pulled closer once again, resting a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t Garrus”, she sighed. The next moment he had pulled her head into his lap, crooning softly to her as his talons tangled in her hair. Shepard felt herself drifting off and surrendered to it. There would be time tomorrow to regroup; with any luck, Garrus would be himself again.
Re: Feral Fill 3.4
anonymous
January 17 2013, 00:56:32 UTC
A gentle snore woke her, her time on the streets had taught her to sleep lightly and even that soft sound was enough to jolt her from her slumber. She glanced up slowly; Garrus rested his back against a protruding rock, sleeping deeply it seemed; this would be her chance.
She rose carefully, tucking the blanket against him; the weight should pacify him during her little foray. Keeping her damaged leg stretched out behind her she crept toward the packs, fingers shaking in her anxiousness. There! She grinned as her hand closed around her comm unit, dragging it from the pack; with a careful glance back to verify that Garrus still slept she activated it, “Joker, come in. This is commander Shepard.”
“With all due respect, and I’m really not sure how much that is at this point, where the hell are you?”
“I might have lost track. I need you to trace this signal and arrange for pickup. Have you landed?”
“Hours ago. Grunt and Tali were out looking for you; they saw signs of a struggle. You kicked ass, right?”
“Of course. Listen, I need to talk to Dr. Mordin right now.”
“Mordin? All’s well?”
“Just get me Mordin.”
She shifted uncomfortably as she heard Garrus’ shallow breaths, “Hurry, Joker.” No, he couldn’t wake up now. This was crucial.
“Shepard, how can I help?”
Never had she been so happy to hear the good doctor’s voice.
“We have a bit of a situation. Garrus is… not himself.”
“How so?”
Shepard glanced back nervously, he was definitely waking; how would he react if he woke and she wasn’t there?
“I don’t know how else to put it, Garrus has gone feral. He’s not speaking, he’s not responding anything I say-”
Mordin cut her off. “This occurred when?”
“We were ambushed, got roughed up a little, he lost it.”
“Request clarification: who was ‘roughed up.’?”
Shepard ground her teeth, “I was, but that’s not important-”
“False. It is critical; this is a primal response. Typically triggered when a turian’s mate is exposed to danger.”
“What!” She winced and quieted. “We can discuss that later. What do I do while we wait for rescue”
“Be calm; turian female would secrete bonding hormone. Would halt the effects, with a human, impossible to predict.”
“Do you have any useful advice at all?” She snapped.
“Ingesting can be toxic. Potential trigger for an anaphylactic reaction.”
“Ingesting what?!” That sounded uncomfortably close to a panicked shriek.
Shepard lashed out when she felt a pair of strong arms close around her waist, drawing her back from the comm unit. There was an ominous crunching sound followed by a spark as Garrus ground it into the dust.
Shepard groaned, she’d been caught.
Aaand,,, next time we put the "kink" in "kinkmeme"
Shepard leaned forward to inspect his work and nodded approvingly, not so tight as to cut off her circulation but tight enough to dull the pain even if it was only a little. She felt a flutter of hope as Garrus reached for the pack once again, replaced by a feeling of self-mocking despair as he removed a blanket instead. He trilled softly as he tucked it around her, Shepard pulled her hands from the protective warmth to run them through her hair, dislodging the dirt and other muck from the day’s work. A hair-raising growl made her pause, glaring at Garrus. “Your temper tantrum is beginning to wear thin, Vakarian. I’m dirty and I intend to be presentable by the time Joker lands, which should be any minute now judging from the position of the sun.” She kept her voice low and even if peevish in the hope that Garrus might respond to the non-aggressive body language and muted voice.
She flinched back as he reached forward, finger running gently up the curve of her face to her hair, touching it almost hesitantly. He pulled at a lock and Shepard snorted, causing him to start. “Never knew you had a thing for redheads, Vakarian. It’s good to know, though.” She frowned as she felt his fingers moving through her hair in a combing motion, pausing every now and again to yank at a particularly stubborn snarl, and didn’t he just look so sexy when his attention was focused so completely on her? She watched his eyes darting as he looked for the tell-tale shimmer of rock in her hair, picked the blood from it gently, pushed it back behind her ears to gain access to the deeper layers. He pulled her forward slightly and she allowed it, curious to see where it might lead; he turned her slowly, attuned to her every twitch and adjustment as he put her back to his front and resumed his preening.
That was really the only word for it, she decided: preening; he was preening her, and she had never expected to enjoy it quite so much.
Shepard started as she felt a cold talon trace the shell of her ear, sending shivers of awareness down her spine. He circled her ear again, pressing into the soft hollow behind it as his thumb swirled about the lobe. She’d never really been aware of her ears as anything other than useful items to have, now she thought she might find a better use for them sometime; preferably when Garrus was in full possession of his faculties. His palm flattened between her shoulder-blades, bending her forward as he leaned in, his mandibles tickling the curve of her neck as he moved up to her ear; she could feel the warm puff of his breath as he nuzzled against it, catching it carefully in sharp teeth for an inquisitive tug. Shepard gasped; yes, ears were definitely suited for other things; she would make note of this. Garrus bit down reprovingly on her neck and Shepard held her breath.
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“Enough, I’m clean!” Her voice came out louder than intended and she chuckled when she felt him swiftly pull back. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, smiling mischievously. Her smile vanished when she remembered why they were out here in the first place. There would be time for playfulness later, night was falling and it was imperative she inform the Normandy of their position and in order to do that she had to get hold of that damn comm!
Shepard turned and pushed him back, her hands moved uncertainly over the clasps of his armor; if she took this any further, where would it stop? She had to set boundaries, to tease him like this when he was not thinking clearly was irresponsible. If he were truly conscious he would no doubt once again remind her that there were others she could turn to for comfort, would suggest something “a little closer to home,” and as much as she disagreed to proceed against his wishes like this would make her no better than that Blue Sun merc rotting in his compound. She pulled back, scooting softly along the ground; there would be another time, when they were both awake and aware, she scolded herself silently for even contemplating anything else.
Garrus apparently disagreed, catching at her wrist to pull her toward him once again, catching at the stays of his armor, pulling away the outer shell to leave only the soft material beneath.
Shepard swallowed, strangely nervous as she traced her hand up his chest to the vulnerable flesh of his throat, tracing her nails over the rough skin there. Garrus trilled softly, leaning into her touch and Shepard smiled fondly; he was bad as Urz, demanding that she pet him. She pulled herself in closer to nibble at the path her nails had traced and she felt his breathing grow rapid. She stuck her tongue out tentatively to taste his skin; dry, and oddly sweet? She licked again. Yes, there was a faint tang there; of course Garrus would have his own unique taste; why would she think otherwise? She smiled against his throat as he leaned back farther to allow her greater access. How would he react if she… Garrus growled as she bit lightly into his neck; she could justify this if she just called it sabotage, a necessary deception for his own good. In the worst case scenario she could simply keep this her little secret, a bit of guilty fun; there was every chance he wouldn’t remember this little episode, and if he did then surely he could forgive her.
His talons dug into her back and she winced, coming back to her senses abruptly and pushing him away firmly. This was wrong.
Garrus rumbled questioningly, and she pushed farther back. The more space between them the better, she was clearly no saner than he at the moment and it would be better for all concerned if they kept a friendly distance.
She pulled the blanket closer around her, slumping to the floor and resting her head in the crook in her arm. She heard rocks shifting behind her as Garrus pulled closer once again, resting a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t Garrus”, she sighed. The next moment he had pulled her head into his lap, crooning softly to her as his talons tangled in her hair. Shepard felt herself drifting off and surrendered to it. There would be time tomorrow to regroup; with any luck, Garrus would be himself again.
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She rose carefully, tucking the blanket against him; the weight should pacify him during her little foray. Keeping her damaged leg stretched out behind her she crept toward the packs, fingers shaking in her anxiousness. There! She grinned as her hand closed around her comm unit, dragging it from the pack; with a careful glance back to verify that Garrus still slept she activated it, “Joker, come in. This is commander Shepard.”
“With all due respect, and I’m really not sure how much that is at this point, where the hell are you?”
“I might have lost track. I need you to trace this signal and arrange for pickup. Have you landed?”
“Hours ago. Grunt and Tali were out looking for you; they saw signs of a struggle. You kicked ass, right?”
“Of course. Listen, I need to talk to Dr. Mordin right now.”
“Mordin? All’s well?”
“Just get me Mordin.”
She shifted uncomfortably as she heard Garrus’ shallow breaths, “Hurry, Joker.” No, he couldn’t wake up now. This was crucial.
“Shepard, how can I help?”
Never had she been so happy to hear the good doctor’s voice.
“We have a bit of a situation. Garrus is… not himself.”
“How so?”
Shepard glanced back nervously, he was definitely waking; how would he react if he woke and she wasn’t there?
“I don’t know how else to put it, Garrus has gone feral. He’s not speaking, he’s not responding anything I say-”
Mordin cut her off. “This occurred when?”
“We were ambushed, got roughed up a little, he lost it.”
“Request clarification: who was ‘roughed up.’?”
Shepard ground her teeth, “I was, but that’s not important-”
“False. It is critical; this is a primal response. Typically triggered when a turian’s mate is exposed to danger.”
“What!” She winced and quieted. “We can discuss that later. What do I do while we wait for rescue”
“Be calm; turian female would secrete bonding hormone. Would halt the effects, with a human, impossible to predict.”
“Do you have any useful advice at all?” She snapped.
“Ingesting can be toxic. Potential trigger for an anaphylactic reaction.”
“Ingesting what?!” That sounded uncomfortably close to a panicked shriek.
Shepard lashed out when she felt a pair of strong arms close around her waist, drawing her back from the comm unit. There was an ominous crunching sound followed by a spark as Garrus ground it into the dust.
Shepard groaned, she’d been caught.
Aaand,,, next time we put the "kink" in "kinkmeme"
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AND TEASE US WITH KINKYNESS!
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