Characters: John Shepard, Ashley Williams
Location: S.S.V. Normandy
Shepard walked down the corridor of the Normandy, the ship's cool, recycled air brushing against his skin. Despite himself, his thoughts drifted back to what had happened between him and Liara barely an hour earlier. The moment had been tender, deeply intimate—charged with emotional connection. But it still hadn't brought the physical satisfaction he'd expected.
Liara had been too innocent, too inexperienced, and Shepard had chosen not to ask more of her than she was ready to give. In the end, her emotional honesty had mattered more than his own need.
Still, that nagging feeling of incompleteness lingered—an itch just beneath the surface. It wasn't exactly frustration, but something close. Maybe it would serve him in combat—keep him sharp, angry, focused. Sometimes that kind of edge gave a soldier the upper hand. But he couldn't shake the thought that cold calculation and a clear head would be far more useful than this tension buzzing under his skin.
Not that he had a choice anymore.
The Normandy was five minutes away from the relay jump to Ilos. There was no going back. He'd stolen the ship, disobeyed direct orders from the Council, betrayed the Alliance for the sake of this final, desperate mission. And he had made that choice willingly. Now all that remained was to see it through—to whatever end.
Lost in that grim line of thought, Shepard was heading for the elevator when, without warning, the doors to the women's shower slid open with a soft hiss. A cloud of warm steam drifted out—carrying with it a faint scent of something impossibly enticing—and out of the mist stepped Ashley.
She wore a dark-blue Alliance-issue T-shirt, thrown on haphazardly. The damp fabric clung to her still-wet skin, tracing every curve of her body. Her dark hair, soaked and loose, spilled over her shoulders, framing a face caught between surprise and something deeper. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed; her lips parted as if she'd meant to say something—but lost the words the moment she saw him.
Droplets of water slid slowly down her neck and vanished beneath the clingy fabric of her shirt. Shepard felt his breath catch. His pulse quickened.
Ashley froze too, like she hadn't expected to see him there.
Her dark eyes—wide, uncertain, vulnerable—met his and held. And in that moment, she didn't speak. She just breathed—shallow, broken breaths that said far more than words could.
"…Skipper," she whispered, voice barely audible.
Shepard swallowed hard, his body reacting faster than his mind.
"You don't have to call me that anymore, Ash," he said quietly. "I'm a traitor now. Hell, I probably shouldn't even be wearing this uniform."
She stepped closer. Slowly. Deliberately. Until there was barely space between them.
Her eyes had darkened—not with sadness, but with something fierce. Something hungry. Something defiant.
"Then..." she murmured, and the air between them felt electric, like it could catch fire from a single spark. Her voice dropped to a whisper so thick with need it made his breath hitch.
"…then take it off, Skipper."
In the next second, her hand clenched the collar of his uniform—and before he could say a word, Ashley pulled him with her into the warm, wet heat of the shower room.
The door hissed shut behind them, and Shepard was swallowed by a cloud of thick, humid steam. The air was saturated with the scent of damp skin, mixed with the sweet trace of her shampoo—something honeyed, something maddening. Ashley radiated a living, pulsing heat, and she was standing so close he could feel her breath on his skin—hot, shallow, trembling—especially as she pulled him in even tighter, her dark brown eyes locked to his with fierce intensity. There was fire in them—desire and challenge, and it sent his pulse hammering in his throat.
His brain scrambled to find even a shred of reason, repeating that this was neither the time nor the place. But Shepard wasn't sure he could—or even wanted to—resist Ashley anymore.
"Ash," he managed. "I don't think this is a good idea. We've got a mission to finish, and—"
But the words stuck in his throat as her lips pressed against his neck.
The touch of her mouth was electric. A shiver ran down his spine, and his body responded instantly. The arousal Liara hadn't fully quenched came roaring back to life, heavy and hot in his gut.
Ashley's fingers slid into his hair, tugging him closer. Her breath against his ear was fast, ragged, and full of something feral when she whispered:
"I don't care, Captain. I want you."
And then she was pressed up against him. He could feel every curve of her body through the damp shirt she wore—one that, clearly, hid nothing underneath. Shepard realized with sudden clarity how much he'd missed this. The realness of it. That raw, unfiltered physical connection. The scent of her skin. The taste of her lips as Ashley kissed him again and again. Her breath, hot against his ear—it consumed him, smothering every lingering doubt.
He stopped thinking about the mission. About consequences. About anything beyond the next breath. The only thing that mattered now was the fire burning between their bodies. The press of her form. That shared, wordless truth: this might be our last chance to feel alive.
"I've wanted this for so long, Skipper," Ashley breathed, her voice trembling with restrained hunger. "I've imagined us together so many times… I've thought about your hands… your taste… your body…"
Her lips traced his neck again—slow, sensual, demanding. Her breath danced over his skin, and Shepard realized he'd never been this turned on, this fast. The thought of how long he'd waited, how long she'd teased him with that wicked little mouth of hers while never letting him have her—it spun his head and crushed what was left of his control.
He opened his mouth to say something—anything—when her fingers slid down and touched the fastenings of his uniform. Shepard froze, his heart pounding hard against his ribs, as Ashley's hands moved with slow, deliberate resolve, unfastening one button after another.
"Ashley, wait," he whispered—one last fragile plea for reason, for restraint.
She didn't listen.
With one decisive motion, Ashley yanked the shirt from his shoulders. Every touch of hers was impatient, demanding—like the fire she'd been holding back for so long had finally found its escape. Shepard felt her lips on his chest, her tongue tracing a hot, wet path along his collarbone—and he knew, in that moment, there was no stopping her. And no part of him that wanted to.
Now it was he who pulled her close, answering with a kiss—hungry, heated, commanding.
The sweetness of her lips made his head spin, lighting a fire in his blood that roared through his veins. Desire ignited inside him so fiercely he doubted he could've stopped even if Saren himself had walked through that door. The captain could feel the tremble in the sergeant's body as she pressed against him—and he knew: Ashley was just as turned on as he was.
When his fingers found the hem of her shirt, Shepard realized how razor-thin the line between need and madness truly was. They were risking everything—their careers, their lives, the fate of the galaxy—for a single moment of long-suppressed pleasure.
And still, he couldn't stop. Not when Ashley looked at him like that.
In her eyes, he saw nothing but pure, reckless passion.
He pulled her shirt over her head, revealing the sculpted lines of her body, slick with beads of water. For a moment, he simply stood still—captivated by the sight.
Her skin glowed a rich bronze under the mist, droplets tracing down toned muscle and feminine curve alike. Her figure was a perfect balance of strength and softness—taut and athletic, honed by a soldier's life, yet still breathtakingly feminine. Her breasts were full, firm, rising and falling with every sharp breath she took. Her nipples were already stiff with arousal, begging to be touched. Her waist narrowed to graceful hips, strong thighs, and Shepard couldn't look away. This was only the second time he'd seen her naked—but it still hit him like a revelation.
Ashley's body was the embodiment of power and beauty—and that combination turned him on more than he'd expected. Of course, he'd known she was in excellent shape—she was an Alliance Marine, after all—but he hadn't imagined she could be this sexy.
But what stirred him most wasn't just the lines of her body. It was the fire in her eyes—hungry, selfish, unrelenting.
Ashley wanted all of him. And she wasn't about to let this chance slip away.
In that instant, Shepard knew—he belonged to her completely.
"More of a woman than that flat asari, aren't I?" Ashley murmured, her voice teasing, her smirk wicked, letting his gaze drink in every inch of her body.
His heart pounded so hard, the words came without thought:
"Hell yes, Sergeant."
He pulled her into him and kissed her deeply, hungrily. His lips drifted across her cheek, down her neck, then brushed her earlobe. When Shepard traced the curve of her ear with his tongue, Ashley let out a sharp, needy moan.
The taste of her skin was intoxicating—drawing him deeper into the whirlpool of want. Any thoughts of consequence had long since vanished. All that remained was Ashley—her touch, her scent, the burning heat of her body.
Shepard ran his hands down her back, feeling smooth skin over firm muscle. The shiver that ran through her under his touch only stoked his own fire higher. In response, her arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him tighter. He could feel the urgency in her—just as fierce as his own.
When her fingers reached for his belt, Shepard didn't stop her. He wanted her too badly. And somehow, knowing how wrong this was—how reckless—only made it more unbearably arousing.
He heard the metallic click of the buckle, felt her hands working the zipper. That should've been the moment to stop. That was the last chance. But Shepard couldn't.
He was too far gone—lost in the heat, the need, the feel of her.
When his pants hit the floor, Shepard kicked them aside and reached for Ashley again, hands settling on her waist, palms drinking in the warmth of her skin. His cock was rock hard, throbbing with arousal, and he made no attempt to hide it. He wanted her to see it. Wanted her to know just how badly he needed her. He wanted her to feel it.
When her hand finally wrapped around his shaft, Shepard let out a soft, guttural moan.
She gripped him at the base, and his cock twitched in her palm like it was greeting her. A thick drop of precum beaded at the tip of his swollen head—and when she stroked along the full length of him, it dripped onto the damp floor between them.
His cock was massive, hard as steel and burning with want. And Ashley, as if fully aware of the effect she had on him, seemed to tease him deliberately—letting him savor the tight, delicious feel of her grip.
"Goddamn, Williams," he muttered, voice hoarse with need.
Her touch was tender but firm, deliberate. Shepard could feel her fingers exploring him—tracing every vein, every inch of his shaft, swirling softly around the slick, sensitive head. She looked up at him with pure hunger in her eyes—hot, focused, devouring—and Shepard could barely stand it. When she started stroking him faster, her grip smooth and sure, he felt like he was about to lose his mind.
"Do you like it?" she whispered, her lips brushing his ear.
"Yes," he groaned, hips moving instinctively into her hand.
Her hand began to move faster, and Shepard felt his legs start to tremble from the sheer intensity of arousal. And yet he knew—he could last. He had stamina far beyond most men. Especially now, after emptying his balls deep inside Liara's pussy not long ago. He wanted this to go on. He wanted to savor every second of this insanity.
But when Ashley's other hand cupped his balls and began to gently massage them, Shepard realized he might have overestimated his control.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her close, burying his face in her hair and inhaling the warm scent of her shampoo. And he could feel it—pleasure slowly slipping out of his grip, spiraling beyond control.
His heart was hammering. His entire body shook with desire. And suddenly, he knew—with brutal clarity—that it was taking every ounce of his will not to come right then and there.
He couldn't focus. Couldn't think. There was nothing in the world except the sensations her hands were creating.
And just when Shepard was ready to fall over that edge—when orgasm was only seconds away and completely inevitable—Ashley stopped.
Her hand slipped away from his cock, and for a moment, the abrupt absence struck him like a slap. The same burning frustration he'd felt after their first intimate encounter—that explosive blowjob she'd given him down in the lower deck, the one that had ended far too soon—came roaring back.
"We don't have that much time, Captain," Ashley teased with a breathless giggle. "So don't you dare come before I do."
"Is that an order, Williams?" he asked, his breathing ragged.
"Damn right it is, Skipper," she replied, grinning.
"Then you'd better get to work, Gunnery Chief Williams," he growled back with a smirk, reaching for the waistband of her pants.
With a swift, hungry motion, Shepard yanked her pants down along with her underwear, not wasting another second. He was done with waiting—desperate to see her fully naked, to feel her wetness coating his fingers, to taste her. And as he flung her clothing aside, what unfolded before him stole his breath: long, toned legs, smooth curves of feminine hips, and a neatly shaven, glistening pink slit that already shimmered with arousal.
Ashley's pussy drew his eyes like a magnet—soft, flushed, the lips slightly parted like they were beckoning him in. He saw moisture already glistening on the insides of her thighs and knew she was just as worked up as he was. Her scent—sweet, intoxicating—made his mouth water. Her pussy was a work of art, and Shepard couldn't resist the urge to devour her.
He dove in without hesitation, burying his face between her legs. Ashley gasped aloud, grabbing at his shoulders for balance as his mouth made contact. His tongue found her clit almost instantly, circling and flicking it with greedy precision, and her thighs began to tremble from the sudden flood of sensation.
"F-fuck…" she moaned, her voice already shaky, undone.
His tongue moved in slow spirals over her slick folds, soaking in her heat and flavor. He loved how she tasted, how she smelled. He loved the way her hips moved instinctively in sync with his rhythm, the way her body responded to him like it had been waiting for this. Her legs trembled beneath him, and he knew she was closer than she let on. He didn't slow down. He wanted to make her come, make her lose herself, make her his. He wanted to hear her scream his name, feel her body shake against his mouth, and taste every drop of her orgasm.
While his mouth worked her clit with relentless hunger, Shepard's hands found her ass—firm, round, begging to be touched. He gripped her tightly and pulled her closer, making her ride his face. Her moans only spurred him on. He could feel her muscles twitching, her body tensing in his grasp. He increased the pace, his tongue dancing more fiercely across her aching bud, building her higher. But just as she was on the edge, gasping, ready to shatter—he pulled away.
In one confident, smooth motion, Shepard flipped Ashley around and pulled her ass toward his face, then immediately dove in and buried his tongue in her ass.
"Nnngh—ohh!" she cried out, her whole body shaking as his tongue penetrated her tight hole. It was snug, but his tongue was determined. Shepard heard her panting, gasping at the unexpected pleasure as he tongue-fucked her ass with unrelenting strokes, driving forward and back, then trailing down to her pussy and back up again.
When he felt her start to quake again, her warm thighs trembling under his hands, he plunged two fingers deep into her soaked pussy. They slid in effortlessly—she was dripping, her cunt practically sucking him in—and Ashley gasped, arching into him as he began fingering her while tonguing her ass at the same time.
"Yes! Oh god, Shepard, don't stop—fuck, it feels so good…" she cried, grinding back against his face, riding both his fingers and tongue like her body had a mind of its own.
His free hand roamed her thighs, squeezed her ass, then gave her a sharp spank that made her yelp again—pure pleasure rippling through her spine.
"I fucking love your ass, Ash," Shepard growled, though the words were muffled, his mouth still buried between her cheeks. He had no intention of pulling away now—nothing could have dragged him from her.
Ashley moaned and writhed under his mouth, hands braced against the shower panel for support as Shepard continued to lick and finger her, his tongue relentless and his fingers moving with steady, maddening rhythm. His mouth kissed and nibbled every sensitive spot he could reach, lips hot and slick as they trailed over trembling skin, while his fingers kept pumping inside her soaked, twitching cunt.
She could feel it building—pleasure surging through her in waves, her body losing rhythm as her breath came in short, helpless gasps. Shepard's tongue teased the rim of her ass again, circling her tight little hole and plunging in deeper than before, making Ashley tremble with every thrust. His fingers thrust deeper into her cunt, coaxing slick nectar from her. Then his other hand slid down to her clit, rubbing in tight, urgent circles, and every nerve in her body lit up like fire.
"Oh god—don't stop, don't stop," she begged, rocking her hips against him, trying to stay in rhythm despite the spasms wracking her body.
She couldn't believe how good it felt. No one had ever licked her ass like that before. Shepard was a fucking expert—he knew exactly how to treat a needy little slut like her. He knew exactly what she was feeling. Her moans rose, her body shook. His tongue was merciless, pushing into her ass again and again, each stroke deeper than the last. Ever since the day he'd fucked her in the elevator on the Citadel, Shepard had known—behind that proud, professional façade was an anal-hungry bitch who craved being filled. And now he was going to remind her.
His tongue moved in perfect sync with the rhythm of his fingers inside her cunt, fucking her from both ends while she cried out, nearly cumming.
Then, just as she was about to burst, Shepard stopped again.
He slapped her ass hard enough to make her jerk, then pulled back to watch her perfect cheeks bounce from the impact. She instinctively pushed back toward him, desperate to feel his tongue again, or his fingers—but Shepard had other plans.
Instead of his tongue, her soaked pussy was suddenly invaded by his thick, throbbing cock.
He entered her hard, yanking her by the hair without the slightest attempt at mercy for her dripping cunt. Shepard immediately began fucking the sergeant with ruthless abandon, savoring her loud moans and the way her body writhed beneath him. He could feel how tight Ashley's pussy clenched around his cock, how her warm juices ran down his shaft and soaked his balls.
Shepard picked up the pace, his hands gripping her hips so tightly they left red marks. And Ashley accepted her role—pliant little slut—her pussy stretched around the commander's thick cock, taking him to the hilt, all the way to his balls. Right now, she was a whore, a pathetic little prostitute, and Shepard knew she'd do anything he wanted. She was his, and now he could fuck her any way he pleased—even be cruel about it.
And he liked that. He fucked her with total abandon, caring only for the pleasure of it. He wanted the sergeant to finally understand one thing: from this day forward, her body—her pussy, her ass, her mouth, every inch of her—belonged to him, to use however he desired.
Ashley panted hard, her heart pounding in her chest. A fine sheen of sweat coated her skin, and she could taste the salt of it on her lips. She was fully, willingly his now—he'd taken her like a rutting beast, and she had no regrets. She'd give herself to him a thousand more times if he asked. Because she loved him. She loved everything about him—his strength, his power, the way he dominated her. She loved how he fucked her, how he used her body. She loved his cock—thick, hard, the way it filled her perfectly. And the moment she saw Liara T'Soni step into the captain's quarters, Ashley knew—she wasn't going to let that alien nymph take this away from her.
The sounds of their fucking filled the shower, the wet slaps of flesh against flesh echoing off the walls. Shepard was relentless, his hips driving forward with each thrust, burying his cock deep into her slick, eager pussy. Ashley felt every inch of him, completely filled, stretched almost as wide as she'd been by Wrex's cock a week earlier. And every thrust grew stronger, more powerful—Shepard was gaining speed, pounding her faster and faster. Ashley gasped and moaned, her body rocking back and forth, no longer under her control. The sound of their bodies slamming together was like music to her—a symphony of wet smacks and shared moans between the captain and his subordinate.
Ashley felt like she was in heaven—like nothing else mattered but the feel of Shepard's cock inside her, his hands gripping her hips, the warmth of his breath, the scent of his body. Everything else faded away, leaving only the two of them, lost in raw lust and pure debauchery. She was drowning in pleasure, her mind clouded by the sheer force of it, her heartbeat racing, breath uneven, her face flushed with hunger. She felt truly alive—almost like she had that night with Wrex—but this... this was more intense, more sensual... and infinitely more arousing.
Shepard's hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve, greedily gripping her ass and her breasts. He pinched and rolled her nipples between his fingers, teasing them until her back arched and she cried out in pleasure. His lips trailed along her neck, kissing and lightly biting the sensitive skin, making her shiver with bliss. He worshipped every inch of her—from the dip of her waist to the swell of her hips, from the tender insides of her thighs to the wet heat of her pussy. Every touch sent shivers through her, igniting a fire deep inside. She lost herself in sensation, lost herself in pleasure, lost herself completely in the moment.
Ashley trembled, her soul laid bare to the beauty of what she was experiencing as Shepard continued fucking her mercilessly. Her legs shook, her spine arched as waves of pleasure ripped through her. To muffle the screams of his moaning little slut, Shepard clamped a hand over her mouth—and Ashley, like a well-trained whore, began sucking his fingers down. Her moans and cries were muffled, but Shepard could still hear them. And he loved it. He loved the sound of her pleasure, the feel of complete control over her body.
For Ashley, it was too much. Too many sensations. Too much pleasure. She couldn't take it anymore—she needed release, she needed to cum. And Shepard was ready to give it to her. His cock was buried deep inside her, his hand still covering her mouth, his lips kissing her neck, his teeth nibbling at her ear. He was everywhere—around her, inside her, on her. He consumed her. He took her.
He claimed her.
And just when she thought it couldn't possibly get better, Shepard reached between her legs and began rubbing her clit—fast, hard, with purpose. Ashley screamed into his hand, her hips jerking, her legs shaking violently. The sensation was overwhelming—too intense, too good. Ashley was broken by it, crushed under the sheer force of her orgasm. But Shepard didn't stop. He kept fucking her, kept working her clit, kept kissing and biting her neck. He was relentless. Merciless. Lifting her higher and higher into ecstasy, pushing her past the edge and beyond.
Ashley came hard, her body convulsing and shuddering as the orgasm tore through her. She screamed and moaned, her pussy clenching down around Shepard's thick cock. She was completely lost in the intensity of it—lost in the feeling of him inside her, lost in the grip of his hands, lost in pure, raw, undeniable pleasure.
And Shepard… oh, he was close. So damn close. He could feel the orgasm building, feel the pressure tightening in his balls, feel the head of his cock pulsing inside her. He was ready to blow, ready to erupt deep inside Ashley's tight, wet cunt. He wanted to fill her with his cum, to flood her insides. He was ready—hell, he was willing to knock her up just to make this filthy little bitch completely his.
But then—on the edge of blackout—Ashley did something that changed everything.
She pulled her soft, swollen lips away from his fingers and screamed:
"Cum in my ass!"
Those words hit Shepard like a lightning strike—lust and hunger surged through him like fire in his veins.
With one brutal, forceful thrust, he slammed into Ashley's ass. The brunette let out a strangled moan as his thick, pulsing cock stretched her open, filling her tight hole to the brim. She could feel every inch of him, feel the fat head push in deep, feel the girth of his shaft stretch her, claim her completely. It was a fierce mix of pain and pleasure, ecstasy and agony—and Ashley loved every second of it. She moaned louder, her voice breaking into primal snarls as he drove into her again, and again, and again—each thrust harder, faster, deeper than the last.
And then, with a deafening, animalistic roar, Shepard came.
His cock throbbed violently, exploding deep inside her ass. Thick, hot cum flooded her, pouring into her relentlessly. Within seconds, Ashley felt completely filled—so much so that her stretched little hole couldn't hold it all. Warm, white streams of cum spilled out of her, dripping down her thighs in glistening trails.
It was overwhelming—blissful.
Shepard reveled in the way her tight little ass milked his cock dry, sucking down every last drop of his seed. The captain was merciless, still thrusting into her as he came, pumping her ass with wave after wave of cum. He didn't pull out until he was sure—absolutely sure—that she had taken it all.
Ashley—who had teased him, tempted him, made him ache—was now nothing more than a moaning, broken slut, her body a vessel for his release. She sobbed with pleasure, eyes rolled back, smiling like a dumb, shameless whore—drenched in cum, inside and out. And Shepard loved seeing her like this.
And then—just like that—it was over.
He pulled his cock from her ass, and it slipped out with a wet, lewd squelch. Ashley felt a sudden emptiness as he withdrew, a deep, aching void where he had just been. But it was a good emptiness—satisfying. She felt used, fucked, absolutely and utterly wrecked.
The sergeant sank to the floor, her chest heaving, body trembling, her ass sore and twitching… but a radiant smile played on her lips. This was exactly what she had wanted. Exactly what she'd needed.
It was perfect.
She looked up at him with dark, shining eyes and parted her beautiful lips, like she was about to speak—but said nothing. There was no need. What had just happened said everything.
She simply watched as Shepard gathered his scattered clothes from the bathroom floor. And when, moments later, he stood fully dressed and gave her a crisp order to gear up, Ashley answered without hesitation:
"Yes, sir."
And in that moment, the captain saw it—that wicked, lustful glint in the eyes of his Alliance sergeant.
She'd do anything for him.
Anything.