Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed

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Assassin's Creed Kink Meme
Fill Only

Welcome to the Animus 2.5

✠ 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
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion

Comments

Filled [1/3]

[(Anonymous)]

Yet again, it was one of those nights were Desmond couldn’t sleep. That was normal, after all that had been happening over the past couple of years; though it shouldn’t have been. They had seen neither hide nor hair of Abstergo in months, and all things considered, it had been quiet around the hideout.

Too quiet, if Desmond had a say in anything.

So, to combat his insomnia, the assassin had left the headquarters in favor of a bout of late-night free-running across the cityscape. Being in the Animus so much, sifting through Ezio’s memories, had given him a fondness of the activity. The city was his playground, and there was no one who could catch him, let alone stop him.



He wandered back into headquarters some time after midnight, unzipping his trademark white hoodie to cool down, as he was drenched through nearly both layers of clothing with sweat. The telltale darkness of the place told him that his companions had gone off to bed—

--except there was a faint flicker of light from the Animus room.

Desmond’s curiosity drew him toward the disturbance, his hoodie halfway slid off of his shoulders as he peeked into the doorway. Of course Shaun was the one awake at this ungodly hour. Sitting at his computer on the far side of the room, but--/what/ was he doing? The assassin watched his comrade for a moment, and then it dawned on him.


Shaun was having a web-date. From the nicer outfit, to the webcam setup and the headphone-mic combination on his head. He was having a date, over the internet, in the middle of the night.


From the doorway, where Shaun couldn’t really see him, because of the light of the monitor and the darkness of the rest of the complex, Desmond watched. He was genuinely curious, listening in as the Brit chatted idly. There was actually a smile on those typically stoic lips, and the onlooker couldn’t help but to echo it, tilting his head to the side. Since Desmond couldn’t see the screen, he didn’t know the face of the lucky lady on the receiving end of that smile, but he was sure she deserved it.

However, what he wasn’t sure of, was what Shaun meant by the “my turn” Desmond heard him utter. He was soon to find out, though, as he watched the Brit remove his headset and set it on the desk before him. Slender fingers went to the collar of his shirt, slowly beginning to unbutton—

And was Desmond actually staying in the doorway, watching this scene unfold?

One button came undone, then another—and Desmond found himself gawking, mouth slightly parted as pale flesh was bared to the cool room inch by gratuitous inch. When the shirt was finally opened over a slim, though not toned torso, the American assassin found his breath caught in his throat. So this was what Shaun was hiding beneath seething snark and British humor?

Filled [2/3]

[(Anonymous)]

But Desmond knew he shouldn’t stay there, shouldn’t watch his comrade in an entirely private encounter, but he couldn’t help himself; he’d always been curious and there had always been a part of himself that, no matter how much he and Shaun fought and bickered, was always turned on by the irritating European.

He was drawn out of his reverie by the sound of a zipper dragging open. Desmond blinked a couple of times to realize he had focused in on Shaun, opening the front of his slacks. Tauntingly, the European dragged his own hands from the top of his underpants and up his torso, leaned back in his computer chair. His eyes were half-lidded, mouth relaxed into a seductive smile.

Desmond had to bite his bottom lip to stay quiet as he watched, his right hand traveling down to the uncomfortable bulge at the front of his jeans, lightly rubbing, teasing himself into arousal, whether he really wanted to be in such a state or not. He watched as Shaun groaned, sliding a hand into open trousers and stroking flesh still trapped beyond a thin layer of cotton. The other hand lingered around his mouth, licking at his fingers slowly with a slender tongue; the index digit sliding in to the knuckle to be suckled on gingerly.

A light gasp drifted carelessly from Desmond’s lips as he gaped, digging the hell of his hand onto the fly of his jeans, rubbing up and down because /damnit/, he needed friction, he needed /something/ because of this ridiculously erotic tease only yards from him. Luckily, Shaun had not heard him, instead drawing a mostly erect cock from his briefs, flushed pink with blood as he brought down the damp hand from his mouth to rub carefully up the shaft. Gentle fingertips flicked across the head of his arousal, causing the Brit to moan lowly once more.

The redhead’s breath was coming in pants now as he idly stroked his own erection, one hand sinking down further into his undergarments, surely to squeeze at sensitive bits. He tilted his head back, eyes closed as he allowed himself to be absorbed in the simple act of masturbation.

Desmond couldn’t take it anymore. His cheeks flushed with arousal as he silently crept up to Shaun, and very pointedly dropped his mostly disheveled hoodie onto the ground with a shuffle. The European startled, suddenly aware of the other’s presence, and began an attempt to recover some semblance of composure.

“W-what the /hell/, Desmond?” He snapped, tucking himself back into his jeans as quickly as he could.

“Stop,” Desmond groaned, grasping at Shaun’s wrists with those assassin reflexes of his.

The other man struggled in vain to get free. “Stop /what/, you bastard?”

“Hiding, from me. Fuck, Shaun,” And with that, Desmond dropped to his knees in front of the wide-eyed Brit. He let go of the wrists, but Shaun was too stunned to do anything as the brunette’s hands began to slide up his thighs.

“Wait, Desmond… What are you—“ But he was silenced as hands fell upon his still-open fly, tugging at cotton and elastic to free an only slightly limp arousal. Shaun opened his mouth again, to say something, to stop Desmond’s movements, but once soft lips touched the head of his erection, all want to speak was suddenly gone.

Shaun watched with wide eyes as Desmond took in the head of his cock past his lips, hands on his shaft as he swirled his tongue in ways terribly /lewd/ and not something the Brit would expect of his friend. Actually, he wouldn’t even so much as have an inkling about this whole scenario, but he didn’t complain as Desmond hummed, sliding his mouth down the shaft.

He relaxed his throat, hands moving to grasp Shaun’s trousers and pull them down with his undergarments, to pool at his ankles and give the American purchase to pale thighs. Leaning forward, Desmond took in Shaun to his base, causing the Brit to fall apart completely, preconceptions out the window as he tilted his head back and moaned.

Filled [3/4]

[(Anonymous)]

“O-oh hell…” Shaun groaned, a hand sliding down to rest atop Desmond’s head, smoothing through the short brown hair he touched. Desmond didn’t need any guiding, any urging through his actions. That tongue, those lips, the way he swirled along the bottom of Shaun’s shaft, hummed with an intent to vibrate the erection in his mouth. The Brit was breathless, panting to regain control of his lungs.

But Desmond pulled away, pumping with his hands while those big brown eyes of his stared up at Shaun. “Fuck me.”

It wasn’t a suggestion, it wasn’t a request. Shaun felt something low in his body tighten as Desmond /demanded/ for that cock to be buried not past his lips, but deep inside of his ass. The redhead didn’t think, just nodded hopelessly and grabbed the bottle of lube off of his desk; a bottle obviously meant for self-pleasure, but soon to be used for something completely different.

Desmond moved back from the other man, rear against the desk as he slid his shirt over his head, revealing a tanned torso of defined muscle that flexed as he moved, as he kicked off his tennis shoes and shoved his jeans down, over his hips. Shaun groaned, seeing the other man’s hardened erection, and realizing that there were no tan lines over those skinny hips, that Desmond must have sunbathed completely nude.

Though, Shaun’s thoughts were wiped away as Desmond climbed up onto the office chair with him, knees wedged onto either side of the Brit’s thighs. The redhead couldn’t help; he had to bring his hands up, to feel along those muscled thighs, that tight ass. His fingers gripped the smooth skin of Desmond’s rear, feeling it flex and move as Desmond shifted about, coating his own fingers in lube.

Shaun helped, spread Desmond’s cheeks apart as the brunette reached back and down, sliding a slick finger into his own entrance, gasping so lightly, so tenderly. He worked himself open—another finger, stretching back and forth, relaxed under the redhead’s gaze. That torso moved, tanned and flexing, and the Brit couldn’t help but to lean forward and put his hot mouth to smooth skin. Desmond hummed in appreciation as he worked himself, arching into the moisture on his chest, wanting more contact.

Using teeth, Shaun nipped and licked, savoring the salty skin offered to him, his eyes closed so that he didn’t realize that Desmond had shifted until he felt hot, slick hands on his cock. Shaun moaned, pressing his forehead to that defined chest. “Watch me.” Desmond mumbled gruffly down at the Brit, and in turn, the man looked up at him, then down that sculpted body to watch as Desmond guided himself down onto his friend’s erection, impaling himself on the flushed arousal.

“Yes. Oh fuck, Desmond,” Shaun moaned, watching as Desmond began to move, up and down, flexing his thighs as he fucked himself on the redhead’s cock. His still-slicked hands went to his own erection, pumping in time with the rhythm he had set for himself, moaning in a low, obscenely erotic tone as he took all of Shaun, time and time again.

Shaun gasped, watching this obscenely ideal union unfold. He was panting; he knew he was, hips thrusting up into Desmond, matching strokes with thrusts, his hands now on the brunette’s hips, forcing him down, deep onto him, thighs smacking against thighs. Their moans, their hot breaths echoed off the brick walls as they fucked. Desmond finally slid one hand up Shaun’s torso, over his throat and to his chin, tilting the Brit’s face up to place a deep kiss of tongue and teeth and hot breath onto the other’s mouth.

And that was all Shaun took to be brought to his climax, spilling into the tightness Desmond surrounded him with. But the other assassin gave him no rest as he came, grinding down onto Shaun’s cock until he slammed himself into a release across the redhead’s chest.

They sat there, panting to get their breaths back when Desmond noticed a faint slapping noise. He furrowed his brows, looking down at Shaun, who merely shrugged and exhaled as the brunette slid off of him, standing and stretching between the Brit and his desk. That was when Shaun rolled his eyes, pointing.

Filled [4/4]

[(Anonymous)]

Desmond turned, his eyes wide as he realized that, not only was the webcam still on, but the audience was familiar. A pale, sultry blonde sat on the other side, grinning like nobody’s business—

--and applauding.

-------------------------------------

Pfft, noticed halfway through posting that it'd actually take 4, not 3, but oh well. xD

I'd originally written this for other reasons, but it seems like a rather fitting fill for this prompt. Enjoy! :D

Re: Filled [4/4]

[(Anonymous)]

Deliiiiiciiiioooous <3
But just to clarify, the 'sultry blonde' was Lucy?