asscreedkinkmeme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5
Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
Fill Only
Fill Only
Join or Die
✩ 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.
✩ Have a question? Feel free to PM me.
✩ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!
List of Kinks
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(Livejorunal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
#2 (Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Fills Only
Discussion
FILL 2/2
(Anonymous) 2012-12-04 02:20 pm (UTC)(link)“Hello,” he says stupidly.
“Hello,” Ziio replies, leaning over him to kiss him, a slow, gentle press of lips and tongue, so different than all their previous kisses from earlier tonight. Haytham tries to reciprocate, to respond, but his own tongue feels thick and clumsy.
“All right?” she asks when she pulls away.
“Mm hmm.” Haytham feels his eyes slip shut.
And fly back open when he realizes his hands are still bound above his head. He looks up, already knowing he’ll see his belt still bound around his wrists and the slats in the headboard.
Ziio follows his gaze, then grabs his chin, forces his eyes to meet hers. “Who said I was done with you tonight?”
Haytham’s cock twitches at that, but otherwise remains limp. “Sweetheart, it’s too soon, I don’t know if I can—“
Ziio rolls her eyes and sits up—Haytham feels a twinge of hurt, of embarrassment, of offense. Surely she didn’t really expect him to recover so quickly? But then she scoots further up the bed and swings one leg over him so she’s straddling his chest. He feels her wetness rubbing into his skin.
“I know it’s too soon,” she says, and it sounds kind and sincere. “But,” she goes on, voice turning just a little wicked, “I know you have ways to keep me entertained while I wait.” And with that she scoots up further, places one knee to either side of his head.
Oh.
*Oh.*
He could do that.
He arches his head up and licks at her once, before he realizes the angle’s not quite right.
She must realizes it too, because she splays her legs open a bit wider. Then she cups both hands behind his head to support him, and really, it’s perfect now.
He makes her come once almost immediately, soaking the lower part of his face. He doesn’t stop though, instead seeking a second orgasm.
Ziio gasps and moans, grinds down onto his mouth, all the while looking down at him with a confident little smile, long, thick braids framing her face. Her thumbs stroke his temples and she murmurs things—sweet sounding things in her own tongue.
Haytham has done this before for women, but not like this. Never like this, never with this kind of calm, assured reaction. He feels himself getting impossibly hard again much sooner than he though possible, and redoubles his efforts, pressing his tongue against that small nub of flesh firmly, again and again. Ziio’s eyes slip shut and she makes a small, satisfied sound, and comes.
She releases Haytham’s head a few seconds later but stays sitting over him with her head ducked as she catches her breath. Haytham watches, wishes his hands were free so he could reach up and tangle them in her hair, pull her down for a kiss so she can taste herself on his lips.
After a few long minutes, Ziio looks back over her shoulder at Haytham’s cock, thick and hard and drooling on his already messy belly. She makes a quiet, hungry sound—Haytham feels himself moan in reply—and carefully walks backwards on her knees until she’s straddling his hips again. Then her hands are cupping him, guiding him into her, and she sinks down onto him with a quiet sigh.
She starts up a break-neck pace that has Haytham hurtling towards the edge of orgasm in seconds. He reflexively tries to reach out to touch—it doesn’t matter to him where at this point, he’d settle for even just holding her hands—but succeeds only in getting the leather belt to cut further into his wrists.
Ziio closes her eyes, pants out a laugh that he can feel from within. “Next time, you can tie me up,” she promises.
He wants to, tries to, make a sarcastic response, something like, “I’d planned on it,” but all that escapes is a quiet, incoherent moan that might have been her name.
Ziio leans over him, hips slowing but coming down harder now, and undoes the tie in his hair. Then she threads her fingers into the long strands, latches on to generous handfuls and gives a long, hard pull.
Sparks fire down his spine from his scalp, lighting up every nerve from head to toe. Haytham squirms, trembling from the force of it but still not quite *there* yet.
Ziio smirks, keeps pulling his hair, adding just a little more force and Haytham makes an involuntary, incoherent gurgle. It’s like someone set fire to every single one of his nerve-endings and then doused them in ice water. He’s hyper aware of his body, Ziio’s body clenching around him as she comes, and every inch of his skin that’s touching hers. He can feel every frantic beat of his heart, every frantic beat of Ziio’s heart where they’re connected, and then he’s tumbling over the edge, coming for the second time in less than an hour.
He doesn’t pass out this time, but he’s not really able to do much more than lay there. He feels Ziio climb off him, off the bed. He hears her make her way to the fireplace, shuffle a few things around for several minutes, before she’s padding back to him.
A warm, wet cloth mops up the mess on his stomach, then carefully, and so gently, wipes his cock clean, before taking care of the oil slicked between his legs. His hands are unbound, and Ziio helps him move his arms—so sore and stiff—back to his sides.
Then she settles down beside him, half on top of him, and draws the previously discarded blankets up to their waists.
It takes a few minutes for Haytham to open his eyes again. Rather, he suspects they’ve been open, but he’s just now able to register his sight again. In either case, when he’s able to see again, he looks down at Ziio to find her watching him intently.
“What?” he asks, also noting that she’d stolen the shirt he’d been wearing earlier, and that it looked a hundred times better on her than it ever had on him.
“You look strange with your hair down,” Ziio says honestly.
Haytham laughs and rolls onto his side, wraps his arms around her and buries his face in the top of her head. She smells like grass and trees and flowers, and how she managed that in the winter he’ll never know.
“What?” Ziio asks, mirroring his question and tone.
‘I love you,’ Haytham thinks. Instead he answers, “You look beautiful in my shirt.”
He can *hear* her eye roll. “Go to sleep,” she orders.
Haytham does, but definitely not because she told him to.
Re: FILL 2/2
(Anonymous) 2012-12-05 07:11 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL 2/2
(Anonymous) 2012-12-05 09:36 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL 2/2
(Anonymous) 2012-12-05 12:10 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL 2/2 - Writer!Anon
(Anonymous) 2012-12-06 01:36 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL 2/2
(Anonymous) 2012-12-08 01:44 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL 2/2
(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 08:32 am (UTC)(link)where should I drop my first born off for you? And the lifetime supply of cookies? I love you this was so good I hope you write more!!!
Re: FILL 2/2
(Anonymous) 2013-01-13 08:20 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL 2/2
(Anonymous) 2013-09-03 10:10 am (UTC)(link)