asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed

I.

It was not uncommon for Giovanni to receive summons to his master’s office during the evening by any means. Aside from his usual appointments once a week with his reports, on occasion Lorenzo would have an assignment for him that needed a personal debriefing.

This time, however, Giovanni was fairly sure that his master the Duce was not, in fact, in Firenze, having personally escorted Lorenzo to the eastern Gate only this very morning, by silently following his contingent via the rooftops. As far as he knew, Lorenzo was about to (attempt) to visit the Sforza in Forlì, and was unlikely to be back for a week.

Besides, the writing on the scroll attached to the pigeon’s foot had not been in his master’s neat hand, and had in fact smelled strongly of expensive perfumes. As such, Giovanni decided that he could be forgiven for sneaking into his master’s office via the window rather than announcing his presence via the guards at the door.

A peek into the darkened office indicated a hooded, slender figure standing by Lorenzo’s desk, arms folded, but not going through any of the correspondence. Still, Giovanni felt instantly irked by the very idea that some sort of intruder had crept into his master’s private chambers, and climbed as quietly as possible into the window, keeping to the shadows, hidden blade at the ready. Circling around his quarry, flatfooted on the polished ground, Giovanni was about to pounce when the figure wandered up to the window.

Moonlight and the torchlight from the streets revealed the delicate, aristocratic features of the Lady Clarice Orsini, the wife of his master. The lingering perfumed scents at the desk indicated that she had been his mystery correspondent.

Nonplussed, Giovanni straightened, folding his hands behind his back. “Buona sera, milady.”

At the window, Clarice jumped, covering her mouth quickly to stifle her yelp of surprise, flushing angrily under her hood. Silently, Giovanni cursed himself. It seemed that he was just about to run afoul of the Lady Clarice’s famous temper.

Much to his surprise, however, Clarice merely took a deep breath, and began to pace by the window, pulling the hood over her eyes. “How well can you keep secrets, assassino?”

Carefully, Giovanni thought the question over, and decided that it was more important to first disclaimer his priorities. “I hold loyalty to your husband, milady. For his sake, I hold many secrets.”

“This is a personal matter,” Clarice’s high, stressed tone indicated that the Lady Orsini had spent a long, painful time deliberating the issue. “It involves Lorenzo.”

Giovanni prayed to whatever benevolent God that may be watching over assassins that the Lady Orsini was not about to confide some sort of infidelity, or worse, ask Giovanni to do something about it. Particularly since as an assassin, he could only really provide a specialized sort of assistance.

Thankfully, Clarice didn’t seem to be waiting for him to make some sort of verbal acknowledgment, plunging on. “Do you know how many children we have to date?”

Somewhat taken aback, and greatly relieved for a seemingly neutral query, Giovanni answered, “Four, and congratulations on the birth of your son last month-”

“Four!” Clarice growled, with an angry glance out of the window, “Six, if you count the twins who passed away on childbirth. We have had children almost every year! I did not agree to marry a banker to make babies!”

This was possibly worse than a confession of infidelity. Giovanni wished Maria was here and tried his level best to stifle the traitorous laughter that seemed to be struggling upwards into his throat. The Lady Clarice would probably kill him with her husband’s antique silver letter opener.

“Perhaps, milady, if you-”

“I have spent most of my time since marrying that man being pregnant,” Clarice snarled, “None of my clothes fit properly! My belly has folds that will not go away! And all these… these children running about, with their father’s monstrous energy, asking a thousand questions once they are even able to talk! I am being driven into an early grave!”

“Well,” Giovanni coughed, hoping his cowl and the shadows hid his grin, “I am not sure how I can help you, milady. Did you want me to talk to the Duce?”

“I have tried talking to him,” Clarice said irritably, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “In fact, I think he was briefly involved with some woman, a Lucrezie Donati, which I thought was promising, but it ended too quickly for it to be of any use to me. It seems this Donati woman was afraid of my temper! Could you imagine?”

“No, milady,” Behind his back, Giovanni curled his fingers tightly into his palms. “But-”

“And what is worse,” Clarice continued, throwing up her hands, “He is not content with just once or twice a year. If it was just for the sake of ensuring succession, perhaps I could understand; the Medici have many enemies. No, Lorenzo wants to bed me whenever he has time outside of his work and his Court! Sometimes, being heavily pregnant can be a relief, in this regard!”

The assassin closed his eyes briefly and wished a silent curse on his master. He was going to die either of pent-up laughter or sheer embarrassment, at this rate. “Mi dispiace, milady, but I am still unclear how I can-”

“My husband trusts you absolutely, assassino, and there are few people he trusts utterly,” Clarice huffed, folding her arms over her ample chest. It was small wonder why Lorenzo was so willing to return to his marital bed despite the tiger that inhabited it; beneath her fiery temper and her unflinching religious beliefs, Lady Clarice Orsini was conventionally beautiful.

“I thank you for saying so, milady,” Giovanni said warily, sensing a trap.

“So, I think you may be able to be of assistance to us both,” Clarice continued bluntly. “The last time he was in bed with me he was drunk-”

“Milady…” Giovanni did not want to know any more details about his master’s private life. Now and forever.

“Be silent when I am talking to you, assassino! Do you not know any sort of etiquette or common courtesy? In any case, the last time, he was drunk, and when he finished, he called this name, ‘Giovanni’.”

“Uh…” The assassin had a sudden and terrible premonition.

“Naturally,” Clarice continued, ignoring him, “We know a lot of Giovannis, as it is not an uncommon name. We have a son called Giovanni. So I pressed him about the identity of this ‘Giovanni’, and he was drunk enough to tell me that it was the name of ‘his’ assassin, one ‘Giovanni Auditore’. Thankfully, in the morning he did not seem to remember anything.”

God hated him. “Milady, I-”

“Therefore, I instantly observed a perfect solution to the problem,” Clarice clapped her hands together. “The Medici trust you and no doubt you are discreet. You do not seem afraid of me, and I am certainly not afraid of you. You are already close to my husband and it is clear that he desires you. Furthermore, you kill for him, which is just as illegal as sodomy. And so I propose that you proceed to take care of his… predilections. I can then go shopping in Roma in peace, and married life will finally be satisfactory. Agreed?”

“Milady Orsini-”

“Lorenzo returns to Firenze within the week,” Clarice added, ignoring his attempted protests, sweeping regally towards the door. “I trust that I will not be troubled in the least upon his arrival. Do try your best not to disappoint me, assassino.”

The door slammed shut with an air of finality, and, knees weak, Giovanni leant heavily against the wall, putting an arm over his eyes. He could feel a headache coming.

-tbc: I’m sorry, Lorenzo, but if I was Clarice I would have gone crazy already -.- so many kids! Nine ;o-

II.

Buoyed by some wine and left with no alternative, Giovanni confided the problem with Maria. Who promptly laughed outright, in his face.

Giovanni sighed as he waited for his wife to stop being entertained at his expense. For the wife of an assassin, Maria had far too much of a taste for schadenfreude, particularly when the embarrassing misfortune in question was her husband’s. Thankfully, none of his sons had found the hidden room yet, though Ezio likely could if he had an inclination to; which meant that the only family member party to his awkward issue was Maria.

“You have to admit, my love, that the Lady Clarice came up with quite an unusual solution,” Maria said slyly, resting a cool palm on his wrist as Giovanni slouched at his desk, oiling the hidden blade. “Did you tell her that you were a married man?”

“She left me with no verbal room to inform her of anything,” Giovanni growled, though Maria had brought up a good point. “I will tell her on the morrow.”

“No, no,” Maria leant against the desk, her arms folded, with a gleam in her eye that Giovanni instantly disliked. Including her taste in schadenfreude, Maria had a long, deep streak of fey mischief within her that his eldest two sons had inherited. “From what you have told me of her, I doubt that would make her change her mind.”

“Then do you have a solution?”

“Talk to Lord Lorenzo,” Maria said gently. “They are both young yet. Likely he just has far too much on his mind to take much notice of his wife’s dissatisfaction.”

“Up until he asks me why his wife approached me in particular, that would be a most sound suggestion,” Giovanni said dryly, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“As a confidant?”

“Lord Lorenzo undoubtedly has several more appropriate confidants than an assassin. Lady Clarice, as well.”

“Then, if you tell him about what he said when he was drunk-”

“No.”

“What happened, happened,” Maria hid her wicked grin behind her slender fingers. “Do you really think he conveniently cannot remember?”

“I would rather I could forget that particular morsel of information,” Giovanni retorted. “Honestly-”

“I cannot say I am entirely unsympathetic with the Lady Clarice,” Maria said mildly, her lips curling wider in mischief, most unladylike. “Marrying a banker, and then being saddled with a growing gaggle of thoroughly unmanageable children as well as a husband prone to long periods of absence, it is a rather familiar… predicament, perhaps.”

A little mortified, Giovanni clasped Maria’s left hand, pressing the knuckles to his lips. “You could have said something to me, my love.”

“Do not misunderstand me, husband. I love our children. Particularly now that Federico is old enough to assist me in controlling the wildest one, your Ezio. But when they were younger… hah. Perhaps the Lady Clarice does indeed need some respite.”

“Do you want a holiday in Roma?” Giovanni said dryly, pressing Maria’s palm against his cheek, squeezing her fingers lightly.

“Hardly. Who would be here to bind your wounds and ensure that you eat and sleep as normally as possible?” Maria carded fingers briefly and playfully through his hair. “Ours has been a long marriage, my love, and we have been through enough to temper it. Theirs is not. I think you should speak with your Lord Lorenzo.”

“Very well, love. I accept your counsel.” Giovanni poured himself another glass of wine, passing the crystal goblet first to Maria for a sip, and then raising it to his lips.

“And, if necessary, perhaps provide any further… assistance, as suggested by the Lady Clarice.”

Giovanni choked on the wine.

Maria smiled with arch innocence, evidently having waited to spring this on him while he was drinking. “Il Magnifico is still quite a handsome man – perhaps the nose is a little too unfortunately sharp, and his eyes a little too severe, but-”

“You know I hate it when you tease me.”

“Was I teasing you?”

Giovanni decided he was a little too tipsy to make any sort of dignified response to that, and scowled instead, draining the goblet. “I will talk to him when he returns. Talk.”

“Pity.”

“Maria…”

-tbc. thankfully for fic purposes, FF13 has a lot of annoying characters. T_T needed a break-

xD Oh man. Oh man oh man oh man.

This is going to be epic in all the best kinds of ways. Don't stop now, anon~ You have me on the edge of my seat! <3

Not OP, though, sorry!

LMAO. Challanger is pleased. This is turning out better than I expected. I also love how Giovanni is caught between to intractable women with no respite in sight except for Lorenzo.

Can't wait to see his response.

What the hell does FF13 mean anyway?

That's off topic, sorry. I really like what's going on so far. I look forward to the rest. ^^ Hope it's posted soon.

Final Fantasy 13. And I am disappointed to hear that it has so many annoying characters. Wonders if it's worth playing at all...

If you like movies with playable cutscenes, then this game is for you.

Lol, that sounds so strange. I might rent it just to see what you're talking about. Or maybe there is a demo (but they're rarely so generous). Anon will shut up now, because anon's getting off-topic.

[a/n: written while working at home… (Leonardo-style procrastination). I don’t think FF13 was as interactive-movie style as MGS4, but the constant cutscenes with annoying characters does get a bit painful. Still, hopefully the storyline will redeem itself. Also, graphics are great!]

III.

Giovanni had prepared several methods of gently broaching the matter with his master, but faced with Lorenzo de’ Medici’s air of dignity and noble poise, his carefully prepared words melted away. Stalling for time while he tried to come up with some sort of believable segue, the conversation cycled through letters he had recently purloined (three), Uberto, bank business, and mutual acquaintances (painfully far and few between).

Giovanni was manfully working through a somewhat stilted conversation regarding Lorenzo’s visit to Forlì and his continued verbal skirmishes with the Duke and his fiery wife when his master sighed, and put his quill down beside his correspondence, folding his long fingers under his chin. His master’s nose, Giovanni decided, recalling Maria’s words, wasn’t that sharp-

“Are you trying to ask a favor from me, Giovanni?” At the assassin’s startled expression, Lorenzo’s lips twitched upwards in amusement. “I think this is the longest non-business conversation we have ever had to date, and you have been working for me since I was six years of age.”

“If I am disturbing you, Altezza-”

“No. Your company is always pleasant.” Did Lorenzo’s smile just grow a little warmer? Giovanni resisted the urge to start backing away towards the nearest window. “Were you about to ask for leave? For a holiday in Roma, perhaps?”

Giovanni flinched. His Lordship was far too prescient for his own good. “No, Altezza.” The best form of defense was attack. “Why did you think I was about to ask for leave?”

“You seem distracted. Stressed.” Lorenzo said, concerned, leaning forward a little in his seat. “I recognize that since the Pazzi have been more active to date that you would naturally be more occupied; but a man cannot work both days and nights without falling ill.”

And far too perceptive. Smiling weakly, Giovanni said, “You seem to work both days and nights, Altezza. Save for diplomatic or social matters, I rarely see you leave your office. Perhaps you should heed your own counsel.”

“I have a cot in a side room attached to the office,” Lorenzo said, self-deprecating, “If I work too late, I rest there. It is rather a terrible habit.”

“How late is too late?” The assassin grasped at the possible straw of hope with relief. This could be a safe enough trigger for the Lady Clarice that did not involve the commission of capital crimes in lieu of being verbally flayed by Lorenzo’s lady wife. “Surely your personal chambers are just a short walk away.”

“Clarice is a light sleeper. If I wake her, Hell hath no fury,” the Duce said ruefully, looking back down at the reports. “Like now, when it is past midnight, I prefer to sleep alone.”

Giovanni silently reflected that merely waking the Lady Clarice was very likely not the only reason, but kept his counsel. He could work with this. Besides, it seemed he was safe for today; relieved, he smiled reflexively at his master, who immediately looked away, a faint pink tint growing on his cheeks that could not be explained on the warmth of the evening or the lateness of the hour.

Silently cursing his master’s loose drunken tongue and the Lady Clarice’s sledgehammer approach to her marital problems yet again in his mind, Giovanni took a step back towards the window.

“I, ah, perhaps I will speak with you again on the morrow if you are otherwise unoccupied. Since my company appears, er, not unwelcome.”

Lorenzo stared at him oddly. “If you want to ask a favor from me you need not fear that I will dismiss you outright, Giovanni. As I have said, you have worked for me and my family since I was six years of age, and have asked for nothing, accepted what we were willing to give with no comment or complaint. A pay rise, perhaps?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Giovanni said quickly, edging towards the sill, his hand pressed upon it. “Thank you for the generous thought, Altezza.”

His master sighed, waving at the spare cushioned chair before his desk. “Come back here and sit down, Giovanni. Help me with the ledgers until you are ready to tell me about whatever it is that is eating at you.”

“But-”

“Giovanni.”

As always, Giovanni found it impossible to disobey when that particular steely tone was used against him, and he swallowed his protest, stalking back to the desk to sink down on the chair and accept the ledger and spare quill handed to him.

Much to Lorenzo’s probable disappointment, however, Giovanni was far more practiced at staying late, and numbers and figures had never been boring to him. Eventually, there was a yawn, a faint thump, and Giovanni shook his head slowly as he took his master’s quill from nerveless fingers and placed it on the table. Head folded in his arms, impeccable hair uncommonly askew, Lorenzo looked younger, vulnerable.

Feeling a little protective, Giovanni put down his quill and circled the room until he found the well-hidden door set against the wall. Locating the catch took a little more work, but the door eventually opened under his hands, into a small room with a window and no more furniture than a tiny bed and a set of fresh clothes.

Lorenzo was too exhausted to wake when Giovanni carefully nudged his shoulder, and eventually the assassin simply hauled his master’s arm over his shoulder and half-carried, half-dragged him into the room and arranged him on the bed, muttering darkly under his breath as he pulled off long boots and the gold chain of office, setting it under Lorenzo’s pillow.

When he was about to leave, Lorenzo caught him by the wrist, yawning. “Stay a while,” he commanded, sleepy and barely conscious, his dark eyes half-lidded and heavy with sleep.

Sometime after daybreak, Giovanni told himself while sprinting home over the rooftops that it was merely habitual obedience that had him close the door and seat himself without complaint back down at his master’s side, Lorenzo’s slender hand in his grasp.

Maria was waiting for him in the hidden room, looking amused, when he emerged within it, rubbing his eyes and yawning. She looked him over, smirked, and said, “How was it?”

Giovanni scowled, too tired to defend himself or remonstrate with his wife’s presumption. “Nothing happened.”

“Truly? Pity.”

“Maria…”

“It would have been nice,” she added, with a sly smile and a quick kiss over his jaw, “To watch.” At his openmouthed expression of shock, Maria winked at him, clearly having gleefully anticipated his very reaction with her said wide streak of mischief and glided away towards the exit, blowing him a mocking kiss.

It was entirely possible that this was a form of subtle feminine vengeance, but Giovanni was too exhausted to think it over further as he sat down heavily at his desk. Clearly, all the problems in his life resulted from women.

-tbc, yes, stretching out Giovanni's humiliation for as long as I can, heh-

*in Dr.Barbers voice* Mmm-yes, Exquisite.

lol, oh writeranon we love you so.

Poor, poor Giovanni. He truely is stuck. He might need a visit to or from his brother for some much needed sanity. Whether he'd get it though...

Anyway, Challanger is yet again pleased. Can't wait till the next posting.

"Clearly, all the problems in his life resulted from women." *dead from laughing*

May I just say I absolutely adore how you've written Maria here? Open marriages ftw ^o^

IV.

Keeping Lorenzo up past midnight, as it turned out, was fairly easy after all, particularly once he settled into helping the Duce with his ledgers. Maria had also taken pity on his dilemma and had offered up some topics of conversations that were also of much assistance.

On hindsight, however, once matters stretched pleasantly like this for a week, he should have known that leaving more or less promptly after midnight would have caused some suspicion. Lorenzo, after all, was far more intelligent than he by any measure.

“Giovanni.”

“Altezza?” Giovanni was absorbed in a thorny set of columns that persistently refused to balance, nibbling at a feather, his head resting on his palm, fingers curled in his hair.

“A week is long enough to delay asking a favor, would you not think so?”

Giovanni stifled a sigh. Lorenzo seemed to have settled on that conclusion and had been refusing to budge since. “I am here for your company, Duce.” That was true enough. “Unless you would prefer to be alone?”

“Of course not,” Lorenzo was tapping his fingers on the desk, by the sounds of it: a sure sign that the Duce was irrevocably intrigued by some problem. “It does seem sudden.”

Giovanni tried a lie. “I have some recent concerns about your safety, but nothing solid enough to warrant your attention.”

Lorenzo chuckled, and Giovanni risked a brief glance upwards; the Duke looked amused. Not a good sign. “And these concerns only last until midnight? Come to think of it, your actions seem to coincide with my prior comments that I only return to my personal chambers before midnight. Is there some sort of… reservation that you have, about that?”

The assassin controlled his expression carefully, studiously reading columns. He didn’t trust himself to meet his master’s undoubtedly knowing eyes. He should have known better than to fall into the trap of habit. “Ah… of course not, Altezza.”

“For an assassin you are a very poor liar.” Lorenzo said, with a velvet purr that sounded absolutely out of place in his master’s voice. Indignantly, Giovanni snapped his chin upwards to retort, and found himself kissing his master instead; Lorenzo had leant precariously over the desk, elegant fingers twisting around his neck. At his low gasp, lips parting, the Duke’s tongue flicked into his mouth, exploring, warm and wet; Giovanni groaned and drew it in further, dazed with startled pleasure, sucking on Lorenzo’s tongue until the Duke moaned.

A breath was all Lorenzo allowed him before crushing their lips together again; and then warms thighs were splayed over his lap and his fingers were walking up the back of his master’s robes by their own accord, their breathing growing heavier, stuttered with heady, wild lust. It was not like this with Maria-

The thought of his wife caused him to jerk back with a low gasp, hands curling over Lorenzo’s shoulders. “Master-”

“Whenever I hear that from you,” Lorenzo growled, kneading muscle over the thin, loose sleeves of his shirt, “I can only think of how far I can take your obedience.”

“This was your wife’s idea,” Giovanni said quickly, as Lorenzo bent towards him. Another kiss and his self-control would be sorely tested; already he could feel the definite interest of the Duke’s body pressed over his right thigh.

“Clarice?” Lorenzo asked, puzzled enough to give pause. “Explain yourself.”

“While you were at Forlì,” Giovanni said carefully, “The Lady Clarice used your methods to contact me. She advised me that she, ah, was receiving a few too many… marital… visits from you and asked, that is to say, instructed me to do something about it.”

“Did she mention one night where-”

“Where you were intoxicated-”

“I see,” Lorenzo folded his arms, looking thoughtful – but thankfully, he did not seem angry in the least. “Did you mention this to Maria?”

“She thought it was amusing.”

“And that only?”

“She thinks it is very amusing to entertain herself at my expense by implying every night in her speech that we are… well, and then laughing when I defend myself,” Giovanni complained, pushing his master gently by the shoulders. “Could you, ah, get off my lap, Altezza?”

“Why? This is quite comfortable.” Lorenzo’s mischievous smile reminded him a little too much of Maria in one of her moods. “Then, perhaps we should not disappoint your wife. And mine, it seems.”

“But… ngh…” Giovanni tensed as Lorenzo pushed back down with another searing, passionate kiss, so startlingly incongruous with the Duke’s usual cool poise; another and another and he was squirming under his master, hands shaky over slender hips and growling as Lorenzo ground against him. He was growing aroused and- “Master…”

Lorenzo’s eyes darkened, thumbs stroking over his cheeks, the Duke’s lips kiss-reddened and curled into a faint smirk. “Do I command you in all things, Giovanni?”

Nearly all, Giovanni wanted to amend, but with his master flushed and hungry on his lap, his eyes so arresting, his tone steel and silk both; he could find no words. Instead, Giovanni smiled wryly in return as he gently took up his master’s right palm, running a lick over the lifelines and up blade calluses; up further, over the ring finger set with the Medici crest.

The Duke chuckled softly, sensuous and low. “Then we shall retire to the room, my dear Giovanni.” Long fingers trailed down his neck, under his cowl, cool over the sliver of flesh that ended under his baldric. “You shall remove all these inconvenient clothes.” Fingers picked briefly at the buckle of his baldric, then at the heavier, silver crest of the Creed at his waist. “And then I intend to take a week’s worth of pleasure from your flesh.”

The last of Giovanni’s reservations gave under Lorenzo’s silky words, and he nipped at the tip of the ring finger, lapping over the roughened pads; his master growled, and tipped his chin up to claim his lips.

-tbc…? hmm, we’ll see if I feel up to writing any sort of smut.-

I see how it is, anon. You like to get me all hot and bothered and then leave me hanging. Oh anon, you tease me so cruelly.

~~Don't stop.~~

GUH.

A pushy Lorenzo is unexpectedly hot.

YOU ARE WONDERFUL, ANON.

Don't stop!! This is so bloody HOT I'm practically melting in my seat. And nothing has yet to happen! Please continue. ^^

*grins* Challenger is pleased and would love for it to continue.

Poor Giovanni, he just can't seem to win with those three.

Don't stop. Oh please don't stop... I cannot take the suspense!! XD I love your Maria. I really do! XD Poor Giovani. hahaha!! XD You make me love them so much!! XD

I love your writing. I really do!! XD

Will you be continuing this at anytime? Oh, please do. I would love to see what happens next, really I do. ^^

The story is basically complete and a sex scene will add nothing to it content wise other than gratuitous fanservice (not that there's anything wrong with that!), so at this point in time I have no plans to continue. :/ I find it difficult to write detailed pwp. ^^

Thanks for reading.

How unfortunate, I was looking forward to reading the rest, but at least you stepped up to the plate and telling us that you wont be continuing such fiction.

Which completely sucks for those of us wanting the pwp anyway. TT_TT

It's not that fair to be honest, I really like this story, but what does this Anon have to do to get the one who maintains the AC I/II archives to change this particualr story from !filling to !filled? Because, really, despite the fact the last post of the story doesn't say 7/7, it is indeed filled.

Re: writeranon says

ackink-mod.livejournal.com - 2010-06-24 04:09 (UTC) - Expand

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed

In the interests of (someone else's) satisfactory married life [1/?]

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writeranon says

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