Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

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Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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✩ Comment anonymously with a character/pairing and a kink/prompt.

✩ Comment is filled by another anonymous with fanfiction/art/or any other appropriate medium.

✩ One request per post, but fill the request as much as you want.

✩ The fill/request doesn't necessarily need to be smut.

✩ Don't flame, if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything.

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✩ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!

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(Livejorunal) Archive
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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
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A Lesson in Espionage (1/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Uh... so... yeah... There'll be a section from Connor's point of view, or a sequel from his point of view. Um... I hope this is OK, OP.

If there is one thing Haytham Kenway can claim to be, it is observant. The moment he and Charles enter the bedroom, he knows someone else has been in here. Though Charles is too distracted by their harsh kisses to notice, the window is open, the drawers at Haytham's desk ajar, papers scattered around. There's a muffled thud just as he opens the door, and there are shadowy shapes that could be people barely visible beneath the bed.

Haytham uses his second sight to make sure: the shapes are a bright red. Assassins. Or rather, one particular assassin, judging from the sheer stupidity of their actions. Connor is here, with one of his lackeys, trying to get information on their plans, no doubt. He wonders for a moment about whether to just kill them outright, but that would be messy and he'd much rather fuck Charles than murder his idiot of a son. Better to teach them a lesson about privacy instead. Give them what they want, but in a way they don't expect and won't appreciate. He kisses Charles again, and locks the door behind them.


"I've been meaning to ask," Haytham says, between kisses. He deftly undoes Charles' jacket, and starts untying his cravat. "How did Hickey say things were going with the counterfeiting in New York?"

"I believe everything is going according to plan," Charles replies, looking slightly annoyed at this sudden conversation. He removes Haytham's cloak, and starts to work at his necktie. "His men at the… oh, the North market, I think… they're doing a good job of avoiding the guards. Apparently the printer leaves much to be desired, but he's working on it."

"Oh, I'm sure he is," Haytham chuckles. He slips the jacket off Charles' shoulders and begins unbuttoning his shirt. Charles bats his hands away.

"It's freezing in here," he says. "Why on earth did you leave your window open?"

"I didn't," Haytham replies. "One of the maids must have done it. Take those boots off."

Charles obeys, and Haytham stalks to the window, shutting it tightly. He, too, begins the arduous task of taking off his boots.

He slips off his stockings, and climbs onto the bed. He shucks off his jacket and waistcoat before beckoning to Charles, who is carefully draping his discarded clothes on the chair in the corner. He arranges his boots neatly, and adds his shirt to the neat pile before joining Haytham.

Haytham kisses him again, and allows his hands to wander across the lean muscle of Charles' back and abdomen. Charles unties Haytham's hair, running his fingers through the fine locks. Haytham hears a faint rustling, and something that might be a quiet murmur. The sounds are barely loud enough for the hereditary Kenway senses to pick up. At least the Assassins are capable of being almost quiet on occasion.

Haytham breaks away, and searches the drawers of the bedside table for the oil he keeps there.

"Breeches," he says, fingers closing around the small glass bottle. Charles complies, and straddles his hips. They kiss again, and Haytham starts preparing him, relishing the tight heat surrounding his fingers. Charles breathes heavily, clutching at Haytham as though he'll collapse if he doesn't. He lets out a soft groan of appreciation whenever Haytham's fingers plunge especially deep.

Haytham's supernaturally sharp senses pick up the muffled sound of someone hyperventilating. He resists the urge to laugh.

"God, you're tight," Haytham murmurs. "You need to relax. Is it because of the assassination?"

Charles gives a world-weary sigh.

"Do you know how hard planning somebody's death is? Whilst remaining undetected? Especially with an idiot like Hickey? I have far too much to do already, Haytham."

"I know, I know," Haytham gives him an apologetic kiss on the jaw. "I expect Washington's running you ragged, with all his failures and retreats."

Charles hisses as Haytham pushes in a third finger.

"I hate that man. I really do," Charles says. "Do we have to talk about this right now?"

"You're right," Haytham replies. "I'm sorry."

He spends the next few minutes trying to pleasure Charles as much as possible before withdrawing his hand and tugging his breeches down. Charles knows exactly what Haytham wants, and gives him a wicked smile.

"What do you require of me, sir?" Charles' voice is low, his most seductive tone. Haytham chuckles.

"I've heard you're awfully good at riding."

Re: A Lesson in Espionage (1/?)

[(Anonymous)]

OP LOVES YOU!!!! Heh poor Connor and Clipper - their virgin ears... I bet they wish they had some brain bleach