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reemonna · 1 year ago

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HI! Love ur blog. Can I req some nsfw headcanons for Connor Kenway? ;)

Oh dear, this is the first time for me to write a whole nsfw blog and I'm so anxious about it, especially if it's about Connor. I hope I won't disappoint and thank you so much!

!!! (Warning: NSFW / not for minors / +18 content) !!!

NSFW Ratonhnhaké:ton / Connor Kenway headcanons

(During the events of AC3)

In spite of his terrifying physique and alarming gazes when he's hunting down an enemy, he can be the softest and most caring creature you'll ever get to know when it comes to him having a physical contact with you

He's so strong and able-bodied, so he can pin you to the wall with both his arms easily and you're here squirming before his huge body

When you're giving him head for the first time he'd be really concerned and anxious the whole time that you might choke. He's fully aware he is that huge

Him having kinks? I don't think so. He's an innocent boy, it's even possible for him not knowing what does the word 'kink' stand for in the first place. He could even ask you about it

"Nó:ronhkwe (love), what does the word 'kink' mean?"

"Where did you hear that from?"

But if he did have kinks, they would be the least risky and hurtful ones. Which means BDSM is a conclusive no for him

Connor is a busy man, he doesn't really have the time to have sexual and romantic relationships, he was once afraid he couldn't give his woman what she deserves. So having you would be his first. Yes, that means he is a virgin

Thus explain why he's shy and probably doesn't know what he's doing in your first time together. But he's a fast learner, with very observant eyes and sharp senses, he will take some mental notes of how to improve and get better by the time. And he definitely does

He's pretty skilled with his hands, according to training and using different weapons and managing them perfectly, so he really knows how to use them well, and he's ready to show you that in other ways than fighting, to play you like a violin, turning you into a sobbing mess

During the whole thing he will ask you some questions from time to time like 'Are you okay with this?', 'Am I doing good?', 'Do you want me to stop?' to let you know that he's wary and willing to make it as comfortable and pleasurable for you as possible

You wouldn't imagine what it's like to do it with him when he's mad about something. He turns into one brutal beast you won't be able to feel your body for a week at least

Once he's done and returns back to his senses, he will regret it immediately and keep on apologising (even if you're not really protesting), making sure you weren't badly hurt

When you're both close enough, he likes to play chasing games with you, tag for an example. He likes watching you from afar, determining your location with his secondary vision, licking his lips and eyeing you in a predatory way, closing the distance between you slowly like a vulture hunting down its prey. That's until he surprises you with a full-of-happiness giggle and hugs you. Holding you tight in a teddy bear way as if he's won his prize, whispering promises of a long blissful night to your ears

He looks like a sculpted statue of a greek god after reaching his climax. With his tired handsome face, pumped lips (more than they actually are), sleepy beautiful half-closed eyes, flushed tanned skin, tiny whines escaping his lips from time to time, sculpted flawless body and a rising and lowering sweaty chest. If he's conscious enough he would have a little wanton smirk on his lips with his eyes fixed upon you

He's the sweetest boy when it comes to the aftercare. He gives away lots of kisses and cuddles, asking you if he did well enough, could even prepare a bath for you to get cleaned up. He doesn't let you make the least effort possible. He takes care of everything himself until he finally lays beside you in bed, pulling you into his lap, fondling your hair tresses and kissing your forehead softly, wishing you sweet dreams

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assassins-and-hidden-blades · 3 months ago

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Could I get some nervous Jacob before his wedding to F!reader?

26/08/2024: Hello! Am I back? I shall try. I am not without . I just need to organise my time enough to write it all down. Hopefully, things will get better and more active from now on. A slow but steady process, I hope T__T But for now, enjoy!

Link to Main Masterlist Assassin's Creed Masterlist Link to Red Dead Redemption 2 Masterlist

Nervous Jacob Frye Preparing for his Wedding...

His fingers fumbled with his bowtie. He’s tried to fix it six times now, each one more crooked than the last.

“Come on, you stupid thing…” Taking a deep inhale through his nose, he exhaled slowly, bathing briefly in the momentary wave of calm that washed over him.

Slowly, he starts again.

Cross, under. Fold, over. Under, through, pull…

Grabbing the two ears, he adjusts again, slowly this time.

A fluffy, forest green bow sat comfortably against his neck, the silk shimmering against the bright morning light refracting through the window.

The manor house was bustling downstairs; the preparation for the ceremony and reception was underway. Jacob had become overwhelmed with the set up and decided to get ready a few hours early, away from the constant bustle.

He examined his hair in the ornate mirror, brushing his fingers through his thick locks. He thought about the way you like his hair, and couldn’t stop fixing stray strands.

The last time he saw you was two days ago; bright and excited for 48 hours of parties and celebrations. Being apart for that long — the longest in a while — has made him as anxious as the day he confessed his love for you.

A knock at the door startled him. “Come in.”

Evie peeked through the door as it creaked open, a gentle smile on her face.

“How is the groom?” She teased.

“The groom… is currently having a heart attack.”

The joke eased the nervous atmosphere; a reminder that these nerves are proceeding a good thing, perhaps the best thing of Jacob’s life.

“Would you like a cup of tea or something? You have about an hour before you’re needed downstairs.”

“No, thanks.” He smiled appreciatively through the mirror. “But tell me…”

“Have the florists put up the bouquets in the hall?”

“They are the colour of wisteria and not lavender, right? Y/n doesn’t agree with lavender. She says it always gives her a funny look.”

“Are there enough chairs? I could probably run to get more if not…”

“Oh, and—”

“Jacob, shut up.” Evie cut him off with a knowing smile. “Everything is fine and going according to plan. You left me in charge, remember?”

He hummed. “Thank you, Evie.”

“… Do you think she’ll like it?”

Evie leaned against the bedpost of the four poster bed, her arms crossed. “I think she’ll love it. Truly, I do.”

She laughed. “If Henry doesn’t do half of these things, I frankly don’t want a wedding.”

Jacob chuckled, hands once again finding his bowtie before moving to his cream suspenders. “I’ll be sure to tell him.”

He sighed. “Christ, Evie… This is really happening.”

“Believe me, I’m just as surprised as you are. Who would have thought you would meet someone more chaotic than you?”

“What’s life without a bit of chaos, eh?”

Evie shook her head smiling as she took her leave. “Wouldn’t change it for a thing.”

#assassin's creed #assassin's creed x reader #x reader #assassin's creed x f!reader #jacob frye #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye x f!reader

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ridingtorohan · 10 months ago

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𓇻 ft. ezio auditore x civilian gn reader

𓇻 summary. There's just you, Ezio, and a slow, sleepy morning on a rooftop.

𓇻 content. platonic or pre-relationship. pre-Brotherhood.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎read on ao3! - masterlist - join the taglist!

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ───※ ·❆· ※───

Soft strands of sunlight crests over the city walls, dusting over the roof slates in a golden sheen. It’s beautiful and tranquil, the starlight fading overhead into hues of gentle light. Early dawn has you feeling cold, a little uncomfortable under the brisk air. Monteriggioni feels quiet beneath the sway of your feet, the small city silent with sleep. Ezio barely breathes - and when he does, it’s relaxed, the motion slow. He’s, somehow, not quite what you imagined and yet everything all at once. Quiet. For all the charismatic clamor you see him with, he watches over the city with a sense of calm that Claudia has never spoken of.

Aristocratic nose, fine cheekbones and firm jawline, Ezio was without a doubt a cut of the finest cloth. Boisterous. Loud. Everything you’ve heard spoken about him - and even seen him act. This is a tender side you didn’t know existed, hidden beneath swaths of fine armour and silky fabric. Looking at him as you do now, his presence almost muted beside you on the rooftop, he seems more man than myth. Gentler, almost, even with the garment of metal strapped to his wrists.

Despite all the armour he typically wears, the imposing and broad figure he cuts, he’s everything but. You’ve seen him out and about, moving along the rooftops and city walls, scrounging for feathers - you still didn’t quite understand that— and tending to mundane jobs. He’s even swept out an arm to guide children back to their feet after a tumble to the street. Which happens a fair bit, even to a young child from your extended family.

Thing is, while it happens a fair amount - Ezio is there to stop it. Always visiting, moving between houses and tending to the people with a spirit and jubilance that you haven’t even seen the Lord cherish the town with. He loves it like his own, a home far from his birthright.

You don’t know much about Ezio’s past, only gleaned some of it from gossip and from Claudia. Even that isn’t enough. Enough would be to hear it from his own lips, to have the man himself explain. But, the strange thing is, despite all the good tidings he gives to the town, when he’s alone with you like this, he grows somber. A million miles away, lost in a world you can’t comprehend.

Other days it’s good. He tends to you like every other townsperson in Monteriggioni, making sure you have everything you need. You’re not even sure how spending time with Ezio like this even happened - what you did to make him choose you. There are many ladies who express an interest in him, many soldiers who want privy into his skills. But he chooses you, takes you for strolls and stops first thing at your market stall when new produce is brought in.

Today is not one of those days.

“I am sorry,” he says then, voice hard in the growing daylight. Not because he’s harsh - never is— but because that’s just how his words sound. “My mind is … quite occupied today.”

“It’s okay,” you breathe out, because it is. It’s okay. You don’t question where his mind goes.

There’s a long moment of silence before Ezio quietly elaborates, “It is close to my Christening day.”

“Oh-” You pause and consider his tone. “I’m sorry.”

His expression twitches then, mirth dancing in his eyes, dark eyebrows knitting together. A small smile plays across his handsome face, fingers spreading across his thigh. “Thank you.” He laughs, an unused sound that rests deep in his throat. “Ah, I’m sure you’ve already heard of Claudia arranging a party, no?” Your pinched expression gives you away and his laugh deepens, eyes turning away.

“She wanted it to be a secret-” You stop yourself there by instinct. But Ezio doesn’t interrupt, he never has. He’s attentive that way, always listening to what you have to say, even if it’s about the soil or the worms in your garden. “You weren’t supposed to know about it.” “She always tries to make it a surprise,” Ezio responds, eyes tender as he looks at you.

“And yet you know of it anyway.” There’s a twitch of his scarred mouth when you speak.

“Mm.” He gives a slow nod of his head, leaning back, brown hair moving from his shoulder to spill over his back instead. Ezio closes his eyes, the hazy sunlight moving across his face as it climbs into the sky. “Has anyone invited you?”

“The whole town is going.”

“Yes, I imagine.” Ezio laughs slightly then. “I’m inviting you as my guest.” It feels like it should be a profound statement - something awe inspiring or an utterance to make you gasp. It doesn’t. Instead, all you feel is a low seeping warmth that touches the tip of your toes. You look down, swaying you feet over the edge of the roof. Ezio isn’t saying it to be polite - there’s something about the way he speaks and acts with you that makes you feel like he’s genuine.

“Thank you,” you say after a moment. “That’d be great.”

Ezio says nothing to that, though you can feel his eyes turn from you back towards the city at your feet. An emotional eclipse washes over you and you’re left feeling cold. Every moment with Ezio is like this - inviting, like summer days and fireflies. Like he sees who you are and accepts it.

There’s nothing for a long moment, just you and Ezio and the slow march of time. Dew glistens on the lower tiles, the rough texture cold beneath your palms. “Thank you for going,” he says - and the way he says it makes it feel more profound than it originally sounds. Like it matters to him, like your presence is something he basks in.

You look at him, at his battle worn features, weary lines smoothing into something almost peaceful. He needs moments like this, you realize. Needs it like you do - the companionship, the ease from everyday life. The slow, quiet mornings, the yawning pull of life. An insurmountable, insignificant second of life - every second that amounts to something more. Because he exists, you exist, and this moment exists.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you promise, meaning every word of it. You enjoy these mornings with him just as much as he does.

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weirdest-lights · 4 months ago

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Shay and Haytham aren't having a good time with the new stray.

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emzysimagines · 1 year ago

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NOT THE TIME FOR SILENCE

I refuse to stand aside while this happens...

All telecommunications and internet has been cut off in Gaza for almost an hour. The bombing got worse than it had been this week. Two hospitals have been threatened - that's what we knew BEFORE they lost connection.

Israel's isolated Gaza and is striking them from the sea, air and ground NOW. Ethnic cleansing/genocide is taking place NOW.

To all bloggers here on Tumblr, don't be on the side of genocide with your silence.

#the vampire diaries #tvd #lotr #lord of the rings #assassin's creed x reader #ezio auditore x reader #alatir ibn la ahad #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #humanitarian #levi ackerman #stu matcher x reader #ethnic cleansing #twilight #speak up #bridgerton x reader #english occupation of Ireland #ireland

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a-not-so-clean-blog · 2 months ago

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Just imagine telling Malik you have a feeling for Altaïr and Maliks just:

#assassin's creed x reader #altair x reader #assassin's creed #malik al sayf #altair ibn la'ahad #a degenerates journal

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acc--deactivated · 1 year ago

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𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨

„Sweet cunt and a sharp tongue, you're a dangerous combo, love.“

featuring: edward kenway

cw: praise, vaginal sex, semi-public i guess

synopsis: owning a tavern in havana means being used to pirates in your every day life, their crude words and behaviour. but you've never met a pirate going this far in attempt to apologize for a crewmate's bad actions.

note: „fy nghariad“ is a welsh phrase meaning „my love“ or „my sweetheart“ which i thought would be nice to include, but please tell me if i used it incorrectly, that would be kinda embarassing lol

18+ content - MDNI

───────────────────

Havana is always warm, always welcoming and soft, with sunlight flooding through streets of beige and gold, full of laughter and peaceful existence.

Even at night, it feels like the warmth wraps around people like a soft coat, summer air resting between the buildings and mingling with the scent of the sea, darkness enlightened by warm lanterns and candles. The sound of joyful music, shanties and drunken laughter has become the soundtrack of your nights as bartender in the tavern and restaurant which are owned by your father, and you like to say that Havana is a place of joy, no matter the time of day.

You've done this job since your teenage years, are used to bar fights and lusting gazes resting on you, know how to handle men who try to let their hands wander, think they can whistle at you or spit out crude and naughty things.

Most of them know that it will only get them a ban from the house, or in worst case, a beating from your main visitors or an arrest by the guards, but sometimes, there still are idiots who try it, out of pure stupidity and falsely placed ego.

Citizens of Havana adore your tavern as a centre of the city, they know how to behave and have their fun in peace, but the pirates docking on the shore are a different story.

You can see it in their gazes, in the way they talk, the way they stride through the streets like they own them and the houses forming them, that they're looking for provocation, hungry for a fight.

Thankfully, most of them are more of an inconvience and not an actual threat, and you know how to handle them, know that a tavern is a pirate's favourite place, which gives you a slight advantage against them, even if it's just out of their sympathy for the rum you pour them.

It doesn't diminish your dislike for them, despite them being your costumers.

Pirates are a disease, you've always been told. And yet, you can't help but feel a thrill in your veins, feel your heart leap and your legs trembling when a strong hand grabs your chin from behind, gently, sensually lifts your head.

The soft light filling the dim walls of the empty, closed tavern flickers in your vision, soft tears of passion melting it to a blur along with the dark of the late night and a breathed, blissful sigh leaves your lips, forced out of you by the way the body of the man behind you rocks once more against you.

Pirates are the worst of the worst, you learned early in your life. And Edward Kenway is so good at being a pirate, at getting what he wants, that he might be something even worse, armed with those mischievous eyes, his charming smirk and skilled fingers.

You did not question the leathern bracers wrapped around his lower arms, the hidden blades you saw shimmering in the dim light when you served him and his men, and you didn't question the hooded robe hanging over the back of his chair, could only focus on the white lace-up shirt on his body, the cleavage that slightly revealed the tattoos spreading over his chest.

It was no surprise and nothing new when one of his men hit on you, spitting rude words from a drunk tongue in an attempt to seduce you. What did surprise you was how fast Adéwalé grabbed him by the scruff like a puppy to kick him out of the tavern, and the way Edward apologized to you, genuinely and gentle.

Most men did not act like this when they came to drink in your tavern, only laughed when their comrades harrassed a girl. It did not fit your world view, disturbed the evil picture you carried of pirates all these years of your life.

You couldn't help but smile at the way Edward looked at you, a mixture of apologetic and enthrilled, felt your breath hitch when he asked you what he could offer to beg your forgiveness.

The way his hands are now roaming your body, his husked breaths against your ear and his body pressed against yours is not what you had in mind at first, but you'll gladly take it as a form of apology.

He lets out a groan as he fills you, slides into you like you are made for him, slicked walls hugging his cock, clenching around his girth.

He fills you just right, hits spots you have never felt, makes you see stars despite the roof above both of your heads.

„What do you say, sweetheart? Think this'll make up for the inconvience?“ he husks against your ear, sends a new shiver down your spine that ends up right inside the heat pooling in your lower stomach, and you lightly lean your head back, feel the stubble of his beard brushing your ear.

Just when you're about to answer, he hits you with another thrust from behind, knocks the air out of you with the sheer depth of his movements.

You need a second to catch your breath, collect yourself, before a little smirk spreads on your lips.

„Thought a world-class-pirate would have more to offer“, you respond, with a low, seducing voice, a tone that lures him in, makes his breath hitch lightly, bearly hearable if he wasn't so close to your ear.

He's so close even that you think you can feel the way an amused smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and you shudder again when his breath fans your cheek.

„Sly little thing, aren't ya?“

Before you can answer in an even brattier tone than before, you feel how he slightly pushes you down, makes you lean further forward until you're forced to hold onto the bar, driven further and further into the wood by his harsh thrusts.

He quickens his pace, makes you whine and moan with the way he fills you, tip kissing your womb, his slight curve brushing your sweet spots just right.

„Sweet cunt and a sharp tongue, you're a dangerous combo, love.“

His words and the deep tone of his voice only make you arch more in his grasp, make you hold onto the bar with one hand, while the other carries your balance on its wooden surface.

You feel your own arousal run down your thighs, feel yourself getting higher and higher on the wet sounds echoing through the room whenever he enters your aching cunt, your brain spinning around mixed feelings of confusion and arousal.

He's a pirate, a well wanted one as well, and yet you can not help but love the way he grabs you, the way he fucks you, the way he makes you feel.

When he leans over your back, one hand placed next to your body, the other one on your hip to hold you steady, you somehow forget how much his head is worth, how dangerous his hands should feel on your body.

It feels strange, but a spark of sympathy arises within you when he leans in further, buries you in his shadow as he pushes a soft kiss against the back of your neck, drowns you in the illusion of intimacy when he gently closes his teeth around the shell of your ear.

Edward doesn't seem like other pirates, doesn't initiate fights he can not win, doesn't harrass others, doesn't cause unnecessary ruckus to prove his ego. He smells better than most of them, covered in the scent of the sea, of salt and a hint of rum, but with an underlying note of herbs, probably because of salves that are used to treat wounds lingering his body.

And above all, he looks so handsome, a dark angel within a bunch of dirty, fattened and drunk pigs, his cheeky smirk more intoxicating than alcohol or money.

A smirk that is directed at you, resting on you as he observes you, watches you writher and shake beneath his movements. When you catch it from the corner of your eye, it fuels new fire inside of you, and your lips curl sweet and mischievously when you slightly raise your head to respond.

„Maybe you shouldn't provoke my sharp tongue too much then, captain.“

The word does something to him, you can feel it, notice the way he gasps for a second, slows his thrusts for the shortest bit. Then he suddenly slips out of you, both hands grabbing your hips and pulling you up, your back straightening for the shortest second before he turns you around, pulls you in by the waist and leans forward to push his lips against yours, catching you in a heated kiss that steals your breath, makes your knees weak.

You bury your right hand in his blonde hair, hold him close, while your other hand rests on the textile of his shirt, trying to hold onto soft linen while you sigh and feel your legs tremble.

As if he's feeling it, he lightly bends his knees, slides his hands from your hips to the back of your thighs to pick you up, makes you wrap your legs around his waist while your hands cradle his face and you sink further into his kiss, melt against his lips. You hear the rustling of clothes, feel how he picks up your discarded dress from the edge of the bar and spreads it on the counter, adjusting the textile before he sets you down on the wood, just to break from your mouth a few seconds later.

He smirks at your little gasp, licks his lower lip before raising his voice.

„Captain, huh? That a hidden request to join my crew?“

You gasp when you feel his fingers dig into the softness of your thighs, need a second to collect yourself before you scoff at his words, look at him through a glimmer of competition before you breathe out an „In your dreams, pirate.“

He only grins at that, eyes slightly narrowing as they slide down to his hands on your thighs, watches them when he spreads your legs to get new access to your leaking centre, his eyes staring shamelessly at it.

And just when you think to finally have the air to add another snarky comment, he suddenly thrusts back into you, one switft motion with which he fills you to the brim, makes you throw your head back as he falls back into a relentless rhythm, his cock slicking in and out of your warm wetness.

He leans over you again, holding you by the waist as he pounds into you, forcing high pitched moans and whimpers out of your throat that you simply can not hold back.

His thrusts feel so deep, hit you so perfectly and when he grabs one of your legs to raise it to his shoulder, you almost choke on the air in your throat, bliss filling you at the pleasure washing through you by his deepening movements.

You curse out an „Oh god-“ as you throw your head back, hear a breathed laugh from Edward when he grabs you by the hips again, adjusts your body on the textile of your dress, pulls you in to take his hard thrusts.

Another whimper leaves you as he partially folds you in half, sass and mockery leaving your body with each new thrust, slowly melting in the heat of a building orgasm within your body.

It doesn't help how he reaches out with his hand to search for your clit, forcing a loud moan from your throat when his finger presses against it.

„That it, darling? That the spot?“

Through your panting and heavy breathing, the dizziness in your vision, you see how he smirks at you, pure confidence written in his attractive features and you can only nod, breathe out a „Please-“, a word that only makes his smile widen.

Your lower body tenses, a coil clenching deep within your core, tight enough that it almost hurts.

„Don't hold back. Let me feel you come, fy nghariad.“

His voice slightly falters, breathless because of his own arousal, the tension with which he holds himself back, and his words only add fuel to the fire in your body, make the flames lap higher, reaching your chest, making your heart race.

Whimpers and gasps leave your throat, you tense, feel your thighs shiver, your entire body short-circuiting until eventually, you feel yourself breaking apart, tension and arousal reaching their peak, knocking you into an abyss of white noise, making you cry out in pleasure, your head falling back as arousal floods your veins.

His thrusts never waver, seem to get even harder, fucking you through your orgasm, almost making you pass out with the sheer overstimulation. Your brain turns to mush, simply melts away and when you look up at him, with tear-filled, flickering eyes and your tongue slightly peaking over your lower lip, he takes in a sharp, hissing breath, slipping dangerously close to an orgasm just by your gaze and your walls spasming, clenching and relaxing around him.

His hand trembles a little as he trails it further up your body, fondling your chest for a second and making you whine out at the soft feeling, before his fingers graze your neck, eventually rest on your cheek.

He spreads his thumb, runs it over the corner of your mouth, doesn't expect the way you push out your tongue to taste salt, gunpowder and rum on his skin. Not a second later, you allow his finger to slip into your mouth, relish in the way he draws a sharp breath when you lazily swirl your tongue around it.

The facade in front of his face cracks the slightest bit, and you see how he bites his lower lip, how his brows furrow a little in what seems to be despair, before he breathes out a „Shit, you're gonna make me cum, sweetheart.“

It's the cue you need and while you whine, shudder beneath each of his thrusts, you at some point slightly bite down into his finger, hard enough to make him jolt, hard enough to break his facade.

He gasps for air, lets out short „Fuck-“, before he holds onto your hip, digging the fingers of his free hand into the skin when he forces himself to pull out, holding you in place as warm, white seed spurts over the skin of your abdomen.

For a few moments, you only look at each other, breathe into the space between both of you, wallowing in the heat of each other's body. Your head is still spinning when Edward slightly leans forward, gently rests his forehead against yours before he lets out a heavy breath.

His eyes are dark and dominant when they dig into yours, captivate you with the slight glimmer within them.

„Aren't you just something else... Maybe I'll pick you up and simply take you with me. Wanna know what else that sweet mouth of yours can do.“

It doesn't matter what you learned your entire life, his words make you giddy and thoughtless, make your heart leap in joy and your lips curl to a smile.

„Careful, Kenway. My lips may seem sweet, but they come with a pair of teeth.“

He lets out a little groan, a sound of playful despair and frustration, before he leans further against your forehead, gently nudges his nose against yours.

„Fucking heavens, you're perfect.“

You smile when he kisses you, wrap your arms around him and become a mess of sweet nothingness beneath his hands when they start roaming your body again, not taking long until you throw your head back once more, sending sighed versions of his name into the warm night.

#assassin's creed #edward kenway #edward kenway x reader #assassin's creed x reader #smut #oh to be one of the girls he's with in the trailers agfhfjsgxhs #assassin's creed black flag

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elfven-blog · 4 months ago

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Complacent Final

Summary: The light at the end of the storm (He's free babies!!)

Orca!Merman!Connor Kenway x Reader A mini series (The final)

CW: Drowning.

Dedication: A final thank you to @ramshackledtrickster for the inspiration, for their art and all the advice/information for the au. Thank you, truly! And in spirit of that, the art that inspired me from the start in our final header. Word count:3.7K

At first you heard nothing, saw nothing, smelt

nothing. You could barely feel anything but cold. Like your entire body had frozen.

You weren’t even sure you were alive. Just floating, almost, in nothingness. A dark empty void that not even the images in your mind seemed to be conjured in. Perhaps this is just what existence was, what it had always been.

Maybe you hadn’t drowned, maybe this entire time everything you’d seen was a dream or some kind of sick delusion. Merfolk. What a weird dream, you thought as you woke up.

Your eyes blinked at the bright light, a yawn slipping from your mouth as your brow furrowed. A headache formed at the back of your skull causing you to groan as your hand reached to massage your temple.

Getting ready for your shift felt like it took forever as you finally managed to finish getting ready and once you were out the door, your chest felt heavy like you couldn’t breathe. You must be coming down with something, hopefully you could get through this shift and then you’d go to the doctor.

With a heavy sigh your hand pushed open the doors of the aquarium, the action making you pause. Hadn’t you just left your home? Maybe the headache and breathlessness was affecting you more than you thought.

It was weird as you put your bag and coat away in the lockers, it seemed so quiet. No one responded to your words or your smiles like normal. Even the visitors seemed to ignore you as you presented your usual rock pool creature demonstration.

They’d stand there, listening, watching but then you’d turn to look at them and suddenly they’d be facing away. Your hand massaged at your temples again. The pounding in your head was getting worse and your chest felt like a heavy weight settled on it.

It was unnerving, maybe you needed to go to the doctors after your shift today. A little boy lifted his hand up to ask a question but you heard nothing when you called on him. You couldn’t even see his face, no matter how much you concentrated on him there was no details. No flecks in his eyes, no light across his hair and his mouth didn’t move.

The saliva built up in your mouth as you tried to stutter out what you hoped was the right answer to an unheard question, the people around him only shaking their heads. You put the starfish and its rock back into the pool but when you turned back around, everyone was gone. Then there was that pounding again.

As you finished the demonstration your watch pinged to let you know that it was time to clean the rock pool sides. You began making your way to the staff only area to get the equipment, that same little boy from the demonstration took your wrist and tugged you back with surprising strength. Grounding you to the spot as he tilted his head at you, he still seemed so wrong.

“Don’t you miss him?” His voice was clear this time, your brow furrowed at his question and the pain in your head returned accompanied by a shrill sound that made your hands fly up to your head while you dropped to the floor. The little boy turned to walk away, ignoring as your hand reached out for him, for someone, for anyone.

“-ey!” your head shot up and looked around “-ak- up!” a heavier weight on your chest made you cough before it was gone, and with a sigh you moved to the cleaning cupboard to get your equipment. Seemingly forgetting about the shooting pain and the boy.

The cleaning cupboard smelt of chemicals and it made your nose scrunch up. After getting out what you needed, you went to lock the door but stopped at the sight of a sign on the door. It’s a sign you’ve read over and over during your time in the aquarium. ‘All equipment for rock pools’ but on the bottom there was a bit of paper taped up that you had never seen before ‘please use for the orca too!’.

The orca? There were no Orca’s here, there never had been. You had to take a sharp breath as that same pain shot through your head, and your hand rubbed at your forehead to try and ease it. The bright lights probably weren’t helping. You shook your head before moving back to your rock pools but your head moved to the door on the other side, the boys words repeating “Don’t you miss him?” Him.

As your hand dipped into the water to wipe at the algae growing on the glass your brow furrowed when the water didn’t feel like anything, maybe you needed to change the temperature if it wasn’t cold enough. You let go of the sponge and you watched as it dropped to the bottom before pressing your hand against one of the rocks. Nothing. Normally it felt rough and coarse but nothing.

“-ose” rang through your ear like a high pitched squeal “Ple-“

Who was that screaming? Your hand rubbed at your temple and your head looked up to see who was making so much noise. The corners of your lips turning down when it seemed like no one else noticed.

“I ca-“ that heavy weight settled on your chest again until it was heavy enough that you were falling backwards, hands trying to hold onto something…anything.

And as you hit the ground a high pitched “Wake up! Please!” screeched through your mind. Everything hurt, it hurt so badly. Your eyes rolled back, the pain behind your eyes and in your temples bursting.

Your mouth opened to scream but nothing came out, the weight too much for you to produce any sound.

Then your body rolled and you coughed up what felt like tons of seawater and bile. The taste is still on your tongue even after you'd stopped throwing up. Your eyes shooting open to see you were no longer in the aquarium.

Wet sand beneath your hands, water lapping at your feet and the feel of something, no. Someone rubbing at your back. A gentle shush whispered in your ear, comforting you until the coughing subsided and you were no longer vomiting seawater.

Your mind whirred and your vision was blurred as you tried to think but all you could remember was the sound of thunder and how wet everything felt. Then all at once your mind felt like it was bursting as months of memories seemed to flood your mind at once making you wince and curl up.

“It’s okay, you’re okay” that voice said again as hands wrapped around you and pulled you into their lap, your face instinctually burying into their neck which helped keep the light from your eyes. A hand rested on your back while another gently stroked your head, nails scratching so gently at your scalp and the pain in your head seemed to disappear at the feeling.

The body beneath you started vibrating as you relaxed, a purr filling the silence around you and when you could your head moved away from it’s sanctuary. You watched as the corner’s of his lips turned up, those brown eyes you knew seemed to soften and his entire body relaxes at the sight of you being okay “I thought I lost you there” he whispers as if worried that being too loud would shatter everything and this would be a dream.

How ironic you thought, your hand moving to rest against his jaw and your thumb stroked his cheek. That feeling of skin that transformed into the rubber of his whale skin against your thumb made you smile at him “Not yet” you answered him. And he tightened his hold on you, both of his arms wrapped around your body as he pulled you as close as possible and his face buried into your hair as he huffed against you.

It was strange, you thought, not the touching. You were used to that by now. No, it was the feeling of sun on your skin and sand beneath your legs. The wind breezed past you as it caused goosebumps on your skin. The sound of waves, and birds. The smell of the sea…of Ratonhnahke:ton surrounding you.

You had never noticed he had a scent before, the smell of the aquarium must have drowned it out. But he did, Connor smelt of sea salt and sage. The perfect combination for the large merman you decided. Eventually you pulled away with a renewed worry in your veins.

“What happened to everyone else? Where are they? Are they-” He quickly cut you off by pressing his lips to your own, your eyes widened for a moment before they slipped shut and your hands rested against his chest. The muscles twitching under your palms as one of his hands pressed to the back of your head and the other squeezed at your thigh.

Kissing Connor was like home. Slow and gentle and it wasn’t as wet as you thought it would be. Considering he was a marine animal but he was still cold, his tongue traced the seam of your lips and you let your mouth fall open so he could tease through your lips. His tongue tracing over your teeth before pushing in to massage your own tongue, coaxing yours to do the same.

He kissed like it would be the first and last, until your lungs burned of oxygen and your hands clawed at his skin. The hand on the back of your head tangled in your hair to keep you in place while he took your breath away, when he noticed your lack of breathing he moved away from your mouth to kiss at the corner of your lip “They are fine, we got them to safety” You nodded, quite distracted from his words as both his hands moved to your hips while his mouth moved down to ghost across your jaw and neck.

And then he pulled away, grinning at how dilated your eyes were “I have been waiting to do that” he muttered before pulling you in for another kiss. This one was much like the last but it didn’t last as long and you frowned when he pulled away this time. Eyes blinking slowly as you tried to catch your breath, chest heaving from the slow deep breaths you were having to take.

“Maybe warn me next time?” The deep rumbling laughter rolled from his chest at your response, before he picked you up to settle you back on the sand. His tail splashing the water to cover himself in it again so he wouldn’t dry out “Wait wait!” you suddenly said, confusion in your eyes as you looked at him “Who’s ‘we’?”

And Connor grinned again before pushing himself down the beach “Come on, there’s some people I’d like you to meet” You followed him in your confusion, stumbling after the large Orca as he submerged himself into the water. Surely it was a bad idea to follow him into water after you’d just woken up from drowning.

But you followed anyway, gasping when he appeared again from the dark water to take your hand. Swimming close to the surface so that you could stay above water and you could follow him. It didn’t take long for you to reach where he was taking you, and your mouth dropped at the sight of the ship still floating in the water.

She was a little worse for wear with loss of paint and some bits looked broken but she was still floating. You could see Faulkner standing on the bow nodding down at someone in the water as he spoke to them, and your eyes widened a little more at the sight of multiple merfolk swimming around the ship. Some of them brought wood and things to the crew while others seemed to have what looked like food in their hands.

Ratonhnhake:ton led you to the woman who was talking to Faulkner, the captain lighting up as he saw you both approach “You’re alive!” he shouts and the others on the ship clamber to the side, grinning and shouting all at once to you. The noise was loud and overwhelming but none of it was too much for you as you grinned up at them all. Connor’s arm wrapping around your waist to help keep you stable.

Once everyone had finally settled down, the Orca diverted your attention to the merfolk that had been talking with Faulkner. You noticed as his hand tightened its grip, his thumb rubbing up and down your skin and his tail seemed to flick a little more under the water as the woman’s eyes set themselves onto you.

Oh how beautiful she looked in the light of the sun rays, almost a halo formed around her as she swam a little closer. She was smaller than Ratohnhake:ton,she was different shades of grey and her tail was less structured than his too. But those eyes and that nose were the same, and the hair braided on her head was slightly darker shade of brown than his. His mother you realised, and suddenly you understood his nervousness as it flooded your own system.

“This is my mother” Connor introduced you both, his hand loosening against your hip as he smiled “Ziio” and he frowned for a split second, clearly uncomfortable at using his own mother’s name.

She said nothing as she watched you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but think of how similar the look in her eyes felt to that of her marine counterpart but all that melted away when she smiled and wrapped her arms around you “Thank you” she whispered in your ear, her voice felt like a gentle wave washing over you “Thank you for bringing riien:’a home to me”

Connor seemed to grumble next to you as his mother pulled you away from him, his arm slipping from your waist while your own wrapped around the Sea Leopard. She was significantly smaller than her son, but she had fur and it felt rather smooth beneath your fingers. She pulled away after a while, her hands staying on your shoulder as she smiled “I promise I am not as scary as my marine counterpart” Then she winked at you before pulling away “I am just as fluffy on land though”

She was like a summer breeze you decided, the cooling component needed during a stifling heat. Once she was away from you she swam a little closer to her son, pushing him down into the water with a click of her tongue as her hands began to fuss over his hair. You laughed as Connor avoided your gaze, suddenly interested in the bracelet on his wrist as the skin on his neck and face burned from the blush.

“You’re embarrassing the poor boy” came another voice before an oar poked at Connor’s mother. A large sea turtle appeared behind them, the older man tilting his head as regarded you for a moment before turning back to Ziio. Distracting her with something and taking her away to speak with some more seafolk.

“Don’t mind the old turtle, Achilles is more of a solitary creature these days” Ratonhnhake:ton says as his hand reaches for your wrist again so he could pull you back into his embrace. He takes his time to lead you around the gathering of merfolk, introducing you to each and everyone. You’re more than happy to do it.

By the end of the meet and greet, the sun is starting to set and the warm air is becoming cold. Connor leads you back to the boat, and the crew help you climb aboard. You’re finally able to change your clothes and eat once you’re inside.

And Faulkner sits down with you to discuss what’s next, it eats at your heart as you talk. You know you can’t stay here in the middle of nowhere, and you can’t go with Connor. You aren’t a merfolk, you can’t breathe underwater. You don’t belong in his world just as much as he didn’t belong in yours.

Faulkner decides that you’re all leaving tomorrow. The decision makes your veins freeze and you dismiss yourself as you go to the cabin you’d had for the journey. While laying on it your mind whirls with ideas, plans and just anything that could mean you could stay with him. But you know it’s not feasible, there isn’t a way to stay here forever in the sea with him.

A knock on the glass of your cabin startles you but any nerves are wiped away when you turn your head to see your Orca smiling at you through the window. You immediately walk over to the small window, your hand pressing to the glass and his own does the same before he points upwards which makes you tilt your head and furrow your brow.

He gives you an frustrated look, his mouth straightened into a line and his eyes rolling with a shake of his head. His hand pointing behind you and you follow it to the door before looking back at him where he now points upwards. He pretends to celebrate when you get up and walk to the door and you stick your tongue at him in response.

Once you're back on deck you notice that most of the crew has either gone to bed or are talking with some of the merfolk over the railings. It makes your heart lighter to see everyone interacting with each other in such a warm way. Your own hands make contact with the railing, your thumb rubbing at the cold metal as memories swarm to the front.

Cold splashes of water, distant thunder and the feeling of sinking into the dark abyss fill your mind before they’re swept away by his hand on yours. And you’re back with him again as you smile down at him, his own lips twitching upwards “I wasn’t gone for very long” you whisper to him in the dark of night.

His large shoulders shrug as his hands move to pull himself up onto the deck before he rolls over onto his back so he can balance on his hands in a sitting position rather than laying on his front. You sit next to him, your back pressing to his side as his arm slings around you. Resting his hand on your stomach as you both sit there a look up at the sky.

“I missed the stars” He finally says to you, his eyes bright as he smiles with his head tilted up. His hair flowing down his shoulders, the braid sitting on his chest and then his eyes slipped closed as he takes a deep breath “Thank you”.

You spend hours with him on the deck, with him telling you the stories his mother had told him of the stars, and of the stories his grandfather had told him from his travels around the world’s oceans. He makes you laugh as he recalls, what you doubt to be real, a story his grandfather had told him about fighting off a pirate trying to get his fins. In turn you tell him as many stories as you can remember of the stars from your people, the constellations and their tales seeming to bond you both all the same.

By the time you ran out of stories for each other, the first rays of daylight had started to appear and suddenly your heart felt heavy. Connor noticed your change in behaviour, hwo you went quiet and seemed to sit there playing with his fingers.

“What is it, treasure?” he mumbled as his hand took your jaw so he could direct your gaze to him, his lips pressing to your forehead and purring gently to try and soothe you “Tell me”

“We’re leaving today” He froze at your words, pulling away for a moment with a bewildered look in his eyes. His thumb rubbing at your jaw “Faulkner thinks it’s time to go before another storm hits”

Ratonhnake:ton takes a deep breath at this, the look in his eyes sharpening to sadness as he nods “That is wise'' he lets go of you but not before pressing his lips to your own “You must remain safe”. Once his lips part from yours, he pulls himself off the boat with the railings and splashes back into the water beneath.

“I’ll come back, I will” You shout as you lean over the edge, but it’s too late. Connor’s already gone and your eyes can’t find any sign of his black and white tail in the dark waters “I don’t know how but I will”.

As you opened the door of your home, you took a deep breath and your head tilted as your entire body seemed to feel light all of a sudden. You shut the door behind you and dropped your bag on the floor, before ridding yourself of your coat and shoes. Once all of that was done you slid open the door that led to your back garden.

A smile on your face as you took the towel that you kept near the door before practically bolting down to the shore. The corners of your lips pulled down when there was no sight of who you were after yet you spread the towel out anyway and shimmed out of your clothes until just your swimming costume was left.

As you lay on the towel, your eyes drifted shut for a moment but they flew open at the feeling of something large wrapping around your ankle and pulling you down the beach a little more until the waves lapped at your body “You are late” rumbled a deep voice in your ear as arms wrapped around your body.

“Sorry! Sorry! We had an octopus to help, his poor tentacles got trapped” The Orca hummed as he listened to you ramble on about the mimic octopus you had spent the past few hours helping. His head burying into your hair as he lay there with you, his body covering your own as your hands moved to run through his hair. He would happily listen to your rumble for the rest of his days.

#assassins creed #assassin's creed 3 #assassin's creed 3 x reader #assassin's creed x reader #ac3 #ac3 x reader #connor ac3 #connor kenway x reader #connor kenway fic #ratonhnhaké:ton x reader #ratonhnhaké:ton #merman!connor kenway #merfolk!assassins creed #merfolk au

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rea-grimm · 1 month ago

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Weapon Jacob

You've known Jacob and Evie almost since you were little. Your families were very close, and you belonged to the same brotherhood.

You were so close that you and Jacob started dating. You knew he was a weapon he knew you were a master. But you didn't have a weapon and he didn't have a master and moreover he wasn't looking for one.

He was best with you and didn't care if you were his master or not and somehow he didn't want to find out or rather he always had something else on his mind at the time.

Jacob was, of course, thrilled when Evie and Henry got together. Plus, they belonged together as a master and a weapon. Since that you could see something started bothering him.

What was bothering him he confided in you one evening as he lay in bed after a mission, his wounds bandaged and under the influence of powerful pain killers.

"Evie's with Henry now... it's only a matter of time before she moves away... I-I'll be left alone, without a master..." he rumbled, some of the words almost unintelligible, how much the drugs were affecting him.

You were about to reply that he definitely wouldn't stay alone, but before you could open your mouth, he was fast asleep with his head folded in your lap.

You found Jacob in his own club, where you found him at the bar. This was happening more and more often. The bartender sent for you to take him home.

Asasin had obviously had more to drink than he needed. He was still clutching the pint in his hand, and it looked like he was about to drown himself in it.

When he noticed you, his eyes lit up for a moment before the alcohol haze covered them again. This seemed even worse than usual.

Finally, you managed to peel him away from the bar, paid for his tab, and slowly dragged him back to the train.

You wanted to eat your way through the old balls, plus it was better for Jacob not to be seen like this by anyone from Templar or any other hostile club.

You could see the slow sobriety on him as you walked past the fight club. It wasn't until it was too late that you realized what a mistake it was to go that way.

At the muffled sound of the fight, Jacob instantly brightened up as if he had been given new energy and immediately started pulling you towards the door. He wanted to fight and get all the energy and stress that had been pouring out of him lately.

He immediately went to the booker to sign him up for the next match. The catch was that this club was open to masters with weapons. Jacob immediately turned on you and started pleading with his biggest puppy eyes. You had no idea how he did it, but you couldn't say no to that.

You stripped down to your pants and left your tank top on. You walked into the ring with Jacob and two other couples walked in across from you. The masters had already switched weapons and now it was just the two of you's turn. Once all the weapons were changed, the match could begin.

Asasin didn't blink and changed to a weapon, which you grasped lightly. You've never seen him as a complete weapon before. Always in a partial transformation.

To your surprise, it was a kukri. You grasped it firmly and the fight was on. To your surprise, it ends sooner than you expected with you and Jacob as the winners. With the asasin in your hand, it was as if everything slowed down and you knew when and how to intervene.

After the fight, you picked up your bounty from the bookmaker, which asasin had planned to drink it all. But since he had almost more alcohol in him than blood, you dragged him all the way to the train. He was so intoxicated with alcohol, you thought you wouldn't even get there.

In the safety of the train, you were about to throw him on the couch when he pushed you off. He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head against your shoulder. You tried to say something to him, but it was no use. He was already breathing quietly and contentedly.

He was still holding you, so you just turned to the other side so you wouldn't have to smell the drunken fumes coming from him. Instead, you raised your hand and looked at your tattoo, which had changed drastically since the fight.

Before, all you knew was that it was some sort of slashing weapon, but now you could clearly make out a kukri with a damascus blade gleaming in the mark. The hilt of the weapon was dark with an eagle motif. You could clearly recognize Jacob in it.

But now you were wondering what to do next. Should you tell him or not? The worst part was that he could be quite childish, and more importantly, you had no idea if he'd even remember after his hangover. You decided you'd see in the morning what kind of mood he was in and if he'd talk about it himself.

The next morning, you woke up alone on the couch. You expected to find an asasin snoring next to you, perhaps with drool on his pillow, but to your surprise he was nowhere to be found.

You walked the entire train, but the asasin was gone. The train was empty because Evie was off with Henry and there were no Rooks in the last car to tell you where Jacob had gone.

Finally, you went back to the couch and grabbed a glass of water to soothe your parched throat. When you picked it up, you noticed a small piece of paper with a single word on it. You could tell by the handwriting that it was Jacob's.

But what was he trying to tell you? You knew it was Henry's flower shop, but what would Jacob want there while the Indian was away? Anyway, you got dressed and went to check it out.

You found another piece of paper tucked away at the shop that led you somewhere else. When you found two more pieces of paper, you realized it was a game the assassin had set up for you.

You followed these clues to the fountain where Jacob first confessed his feelings for you. You remembered that moment until now, and the memory brought a smile to your face.

Actually, now that you thought about it, almost all the places the asasin had directed you to today had some significance to the two of you and weren't just some memory.

You reached the square where the fountain was located. Even from a distance, you could see the figure of the assassin stomping from foot to foot there. You've never seen him so nervous.

When you walked over to him, he was holding a bouquet of flowers that had seen better days. Some were bruised and broken, but you didn't mind. This was the first time you'd ever gotten flowers from him, and you knew from the language of them that he'd gone to great lengths to choose.

"Y/N," he began and paused. He looked like he'd rehearsed the whole speech but forgotten. "I want you to keep me as a weapon and fight alongside me. I love you and I couldn't ask for a better master. I know it's not easy with me, but I want you to stay..." he said, holding your hand as if it were a solid point to lean on and to.

You were completely moved by his words and for a moment you were speechless. Finally you pulled him into your arms, and in that moment you forgot even the flowers you were holding.

"I love you too... And I wouldn't dream of leaving you," you admitted. Jacob got all teary-eyed at that before he put his hand behind your head and pulled you into a kiss.

Assassin's Creed Masterlist

#assassin's creed #assassin's creed x reader #weapon au #jacob frye x reader #weapon jacob #jacob frye

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cantstoptheimagines · 7 months ago

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Smutty Alphabet (Kassandra | Assassin’s Creed Odyssey)

Summary — Smutty Alphabet Prompts for Kassandra from Assassin’s Creed Odyssey!

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Nothing but smut, so tags aplenty!

Notes ➳ Word Count is 1,046. ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). ➳ Based on these prompts by fairy-tail-babes.

aftercare — what are they like after sex?

she’d never admit it, but she becomes quite soft and sentimental after being with you. conversations in hushed voices while she runs her warm hands over your bare skin, tucking you deep into her ribs in a fruitless effort to melt your bodies into one.

body part — what’s their favorite body part of theirs? of their partner’s?

she likes her arms the most — and why wouldn’t she? a lot of blood, sweat, and tears have gone into building those muscles. she loves how easily they allow her to pin you beneath her, how they frame your body as she sinks her teeth into your neck. she adores your eyes, especially after she’s made you cum more times that you can count. she loves the tired glaze that overtakes them as they droop with a sudden need for sleep. she can’t help but be satisfied with herself upon seeing how they sparkle with fresh tears, begging for her more, more, more.

cum — anything to do with cum.

she loves making you cum on her fingers. it gives her the chance to make you watch as she pulls her glistening digits out of your pussy before she presses them against her tongue and sucks them clean. then, as soon as she’s done, they’re shoved right back inside your tight entrance until you’re left shaking and crying in her arms.

dirty secret — pretty self explanatory. what’s a dirty secret of theirs?

she wants nothing more than to find an artist who would paint her a portrait of you. (with nothing on, of course.) however, she has yet to find a painter with enough talent to do your beauty justice.

experience — how experienced are they?

she has explored nearly every corner of the greek world, meeting people and helping those in need of a misthios. it’s basically a given that she’s had a few relationships prior to finding you. i’d say she’s pretty experienced in more ways than one.

favorite position — this goes without saying.

69. she loves having your dripping pussy right in her face while your tongue explores her folds. her fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, allowing her to hold you down while you eat each other out.

goofy — are they serious or humorous?

this one is a little difficult because while she’s a rather serious person, she also has an awkward streak. despite being a misthios who meets people from all walks of life, this woman has little to no social skills. therefore, things might get silly, but it’s not necessarily intentional.

hair — how well groomed are they?

like most women in ancient greece, her appearance is kept as neat as possible. everything is cleaned and trimmed regularly.

intimacy — how are they during sex?

she may be rough and tough on the outside, but kassandra is far from cruel. she lays kisses on your exposed collarbones, whispering your name with a smile on her face. she wants nothing more than to be close to you. deep down, it’s love she craves, and you’re always willing to provide.

jack off — masturbation headcanon.

she loves making you get off in front of her. she bites her lip and chuckles whenever you beg for help because you can’t cum without her anymore. she’s got you wrapped around her finger, literally and figuratively.

kink — one or more of their kinks.

she loves overpowering you. as i said before, she’s worked hard to build up her physique, so she’s constantly using it to her advantage. she enjoys grabbing and manhandling you into whatever position she wants, no matter the time or place.

location — favorite places to have sex.

as a traveler, she can’t afford to be picky, though she does have a particular interest in tossing you onto the ground next to campfires. what does it matter if someone sees?

motivation — what turns them on?

when you beg her for more, no matter how sweaty and exhausted you are. she could listen to those pleas forever.

no — something they wouldn’t do.

despite all her strength, i don’t think she’d hit or slap you. maybe an occasional spank, but nothing more than that.

oral — do they prefer giving or receiving?

it can go either way with her, but she often leans towards giving. she’s never been one to waste a good meal.

pace — are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?

whatever you prefer. if it’s her decision, though, expect to see stars as fucks you into oblivion.

quickie — their opinions on quickies.

she’s a fan, mostly because she’s always on the move. any chance she gets, she’s bringing her horse to a stop on a mountain path, yanking you off the saddle, and then having her way with you on a nearby patch of grass before the journey continues.

risk — are they down to experiment? do they take risks?

she’s always ready to try out new, pleasurable ideas. whether they come from your mind or hers, she doesn’t hesitate to implement them. as for taking risks? this is kassandra we’re talking about.

stamina — how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

as a misthios, she has a lot of stamina and endurance, so expect to be wrapped up in her for at least four or five rounds. the real question is, can you keep up?

toy — how do they feel about toys?

she prefers to be the only source of your pleasure. however, if you ask to bring an olisboi into the mix, she won’t deny your request.

unfair — do they like teasing their partner?

one hundred percent, no doubt about it. teasing is just another part of the whole ‘overpowering you’ kink she’s got going on. she mostly does this by edging you over and over until you’re sobbing uncontrollably into your pillow.

volume — how loud are they? what sounds do they make?

why would she be quiet when she could let everyone know she’s yours? she isn’t afraid to let other people know what’s going on behind closed doors. with your mouth delving into the space between her legs, she has no shame, tossing her head back with every moan that escapes her.

wild card — a random headcanon.

i feel like she’s into pussy inspections for some reason. like, she needs to see exactly how much you came, how messy you are, and if she needs to keep going.

x-ray — what’s going on under those clothes?

her pussy is literally gorgeous. it’s a nice shade of tan that glistens in the light whenever she’s wet. you can’t help but pull apart her folds to play with her clit whenever she spreads her legs for you.

yearning — how high is their sex drive?

most of the time, she enjoys having sex as a way to relieve stress and take a break from her life, in which danger seems to be never-ending. therefore, considering how busy she usually is, i’d say she has a pretty average sex drive (but only because she’s too distracted by nearly everyone in the greek world trying to murder her every day).

zzz — how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?

it takes her a while. she’s your protector and primary source of comfort, so she usually waits for you to fall asleep first. she wants to make sure you don’t need anything — like another round — before her dreams take over.

#2024 #smutty alphabet #assassin's creed #assassin's creed odyssey #assassin's creed x reader #assassin's creed imagine #assassin's creed imagines #assassin's creed odyssey x reader #assassin's creed odyssey imagine #assassin's creed odyssey imagines #kassandra x reader #kassandra imagine #kassandra imagines

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whaleofatjme1920 · 1 year ago

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Kinktober Day 26: Glory Hole

Glory Hole - Jacob Frye X GN!Reader, I don't describe what's between your legs only that you get penetrated

Warnings: 'cum dump', slight praise, smut stuff, slight voice kink

AN: I know it's delayed AND SHORT but guys I'm so tired you don't get it. I changed the tenses in here several times. Don't look at me

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Reblogs are appreciated!

You love how he groans across the wall as thrusts into you. Your ass is pressed against it, hole greedily taking his cock as pounds into you as best as he can. Your eyes are rolled up as you moan within the confines of your small box.

"Please," you groan as you lightly thrust backwards, almost displeased that he can't touch you the way you want to be touched. The cons of being here, truly. "More," you beg.

"I'll give you more love," his deep voice purrs as his thick cock drags deliciously inside of you. It's the fifth time he's been inside of you. Twice down your throat, twice in your hole, and hopefully a third in your needy hole as well too. You squeeze around him like a death grip in an attempt to milk him.

Out of all the men you've been fucking, this one's your favorite. His cum, and some of your other clients, drip down your thighs as you hungrily take him again and again. Your hands brace on the opposite wall to hold you tight against the opening in your box.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," you mewl breathlessly, wanting to come for him.

"That's it," he coos in his rich, velvety voice. Fuck you'd never get tired of hearing him speak. "Come on, take me deeper. Deeper-fuck you feel so good-" he rasps as his nails dig into the box's walls. Sweat beads on Jacob's brow as his balls slap against you just barely. Gods how he wants to dig his nails and his teeth into your flesh, maybe paint your face with his release.

You moan loudly as his thrusts get harsher and his thick cock buries even deeper, and your grin only widens when you finally felt him spill inside of you for the third time. Both of you are panting.

"Think you can handle another round?" He asks you while he pants.

#minors dni #assassin's creed x reader #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye x you #assassin's creed x you #assassin's creed x y/n #reader insert #gn reader

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alessiathepirate · 3 months ago

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Assassin's Creed: Mirage

THE ART OF PICKPOCKETING: Basim Ibn Ishaq x fem!reader

Summary: Basim Ibn Ishaq really liked to think of himself as someone, who's impossible to pickpocket -- and she finally found the opportunity to prove him wrong.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

Warnings: none

•••

Basim Ibn Ishaq really liked to think of himself as someone, who's impossible to pickpocket.

And whenever he said that thought out loud, she wanted nothing more than to prove him wrong.

She sometimes liked to include the children too, who were free to do whatever they wanted after finishing the task Dervis had given them. They liked to be the distraction, while she did her best to sneak up on him and take the little blue charm from his scarf. When she failed Basim chuckled while the children laughed. Nehal just stood not far away, shaking her head as she tried to hide a smile.

All her attempts had failed. None of them worked.

Basim always seemed to expect all her ideas and tries, and he was holding a firm grip on her wrist the moment her fingertips were touching his clothes.

She almost gave up, accepting defeat. Almost.

Because soon the right moment presented itself.

She just came back from an errand Dervis had given her -- an easy task; just a go in - grab the small chest of dirhams - then get out without getting caught. She was on her way to give Dervis the chest when she ran into Basim - or rather: Basim jumped her in a tight alleyway.

She was startled and almost dropped the dirhams, what would've gotten her a long, endless, angry speech from Dervis himself. She playfully hit Basim on the shoulder as he laughed.

"You're such a child sometimes, I swear." she shook her head disapprovingly, hiding a smile.

"Oh, come on! You left me all alone today with nothing to do!"

"Wasn't Nehal around?" she asked with a raised eyebrow as she continued to walk toward Dervis' place.

Basim followed her closely.

"Nehal isn't you." he complained and she felt a blush threatening to appear on her cheeks. "Besides, she never wants to come with me to see what the Hidden Ones are up to!"

"Because you annoy her a bit too much with that." she chuckled as Basim pouted at her teasing tone. "And it's not a bad thing that at least one of us isn't suicidal."

"Do you have any other errands to do after this one?" Basim asked.

"No. Why? Is there something you'd like to do?"

"I was thinking, maybe we could go and practice."

"Practice what?" confusion was the only visible emotion on her face.

"Pickpocketing."

She stopped so suddenly that Basim almost bumped into her. It was Basim's turn to look confused and hers to pout.

She looked at him as if he just hurt her feelings. Her eyebrows were raised as if challenging him to continue. When he didn't, she decided to voice her anger.

"Pickpocketing? You think I need to practice pickpocketing?" her voice was higher than usual and Basim just scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not really knowing what to say.

"Well, everyone needs to practice..."

"Basim!" she could imagine his heart jumping at her tone. "Do you think I need to practice?"

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and did his very best to look confident, but he couldn't really fool her. She knew him too well. And she knew he wasn't feeling overly confident at all.

"Well, I did follow you and you didn't even notice me until I jumped you. And you still can't pickpocket me."

If looks could kill...

"So you're telling me that no one could possibly surprise you? Not like you suprised me?"

A quiet understanding ran through Basim's eyes, as if he finally realized that he set up a trap for himself. Her eyes were shining with mischief as she was waiting for an answer, and his body became more rigid, feeling a storm coming.

"That's exactly what I'm saying..."

Always acting so confident, always hiding the side of him she loved the most - the side that loved poetry, and softness, and the thought of love itself...

"If that's what you think, Basim..."

She put the chest between her left arm and her side to keep her right hand free. Then, she took a step or two toward Dervis' place to let Basim feel safe and give him the false feeling of relief.

The moment she heard him take the first step, she turned around, grabbed his scarf and pulled him down into a kiss.

She closed her eyes, but she could imagine the surprised look on his face. She could imagine him blushing and she could imagine his eyes being wide open. And those thoughts made her grin.

She made sure to kiss him with passion. To show him the feelings she has been having for him since the beginning of time. She made sure to kiss him roughly, she made sure it made him lose all his senses. She made sure it was a great distraction.

By the time Basim collected himself and found the courage in himself to kiss back, she already let go of his scarf and pulled away.

His flushed face made her smile widely.

"So this wasn't surprising... At all..."

"No, I--"

She grinned.

"It's alright Basim. It happens to the best of us."

She started to walk again and after a few long seconds Basim began to follow her.

Some of the children noticed them and ran toward them to greet them. She just giggled and raised her left hand high, showing them the blue charm what she was holding in a tight grip.

"I finally did it!"

The cheering was almost comical. So was the laughter what came after Basim touched his scarf with a confused expression, not believing that the charm was gone.

"Oh, don't worry Basim, we all need our practice!" she teased and the children laughed harder.

"That's cheating!" Basim argued with a blush. "Give it back!"

"Get it back!" she shouted as she began to run, dropping the chest of dirhams not caring if Dervis gets his money or not; or if he gets angry or not.

Victory just felt too good. So did Basim's lips on hers.

Their game of cat and mouse didn't last long. After a few minutes Basim managed to tackle her on one of the rooftops - and she gladly let him turn her around and kiss her with so much passion, she had to whimper.

Yet the minute Basim's fingertips touched the charm, she grabbed his wrist, pulling him away from her prize.

"Don't you dare." she warned.

Basim grinned. She did too. Then his lips were on hers again as her free hand held onto his shoulder tight.

#assassin's creed mirage #ac mirage #basim ibn ishaq x reader #basim ibn ishaq x fem!reader #basim x reader #basim x fem!reader #basim ibn ishaq #ac basim #alessiathepirate #ac x reader #assassin's creed x reader

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defectivevillain · 7 days ago

Text

a fateful encounter

pairing: Ratonhnake:ton/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors used.

summary: There’s a sound behind you—a startled inhale of breath. You whip around, only to find a man staring at Lee’s corpse in disbelief. His eyes are shining with some complex emotion as he scrutinizes the body, evidently looking for signs of life. “He’s dead.” You say, your voice sounding a bit raspy. The man takes a step closer and the dim light illuminates his form, revealing brown skin splattered with blood, warm brown eyes, and a hulking form with unnaturally broad shoulders.

Ratonhnhaké:ton finally corners Charles Lee, only to realize someone else has found him first.

word count: 2k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical violence, death

author's notes: The reader’s race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

Huge shoutout to @connorhasabigtip, who was nice enough to beta read the fic I wanted to surprise her with. LOLL. Love u <3333 Any remaining mistakes are mine — I've only skimmed playthroughs of this game.

Charles Lee is a difficult man to track down. You’ve been pursuing him for at least a year now—watching him from the shadows, learning of his whereabouts through hushed conversations in the dead of night. Despite his reputation, he is exceedingly slippery. But, finally, after all this time, you’ve finally found him.

You’ve prided yourself on your abilities and, while Lee is a Templar himself, his skills are no match for yours—not when your stealth gives you the first blow. From there, it’s an increasingly desperate fight: as Lee fights for his life and you fight to spill his blood across the ground. When you finally get him down to the ground, you are quick to stab him through the heart. He has tried to speak several times now throughout your fight, but you haven't given him so much as a moment of your attention. There is nothing worthwhile for him to say, after all. His words are about as valuable to you as the gravel scattered across the ground.

You crouch over him now, watching the life leave his eyes. He twitches and attempts to grab your knife, which only spurs you to lodge it even deeper in his chest. Blood splatters across his chest and marks your knife, your skin. There is nothing except a hollow satisfaction running through your veins as he promptly slumps on the ground.

You push yourself to your feet and stare down at him, several different emotions running through you all at once. Your knife is still lodged in his chest; after a moment’s contemplation, you yank it out and hold it in a tight grip. Lee’s blood drips down the glittering blade, coloring the ground below a muted crimson.

There’s a sound behind you—a startled inhale of breath. You whip around, only to find a man staring at Lee’s corpse in disbelief. His eyes are shining with some complex emotion as he scrutinizes the body, evidently looking for signs of life.

“He’s dead.” You say, your voice sounding a bit raspy. The man takes a step closer and the dim light illuminates his form, revealing brown skin splattered with blood, warm brown eyes, and a hulking form with unnaturally broad shoulders. You feel yourself taking a small step back before you can stop yourself. He’s wearing the uniform of an Assassin.

“How?” He asks. He’s staring right at the wound in Lee’s chest, yet it’s as if he isn’t really seeing it at all.

You stare at the man for a moment. “I killed him.” You thought that would be obvious by now, given the bloody knife in your hand and your proximity to his corpse. Then again, this man doesn’t look to be in the best condition: he’s staggering on his feet and bleeding in several different places. It seems to take him several moments to process your answer; once he does, he’s kneeling down and checking Lee’s pulse. It’s a futile effort: the vacant gloss over his eyes is enough of an indicator.

“He’s dead.” The man restates, as if needing to utter it aloud. You watch in worried bewilderment as he blinks dazedly, before falling to the ground. He manages to catch himself from completely colliding with the floor, but he looks almost entirely out of it. There’s a sheen of sweat over his skin and you have to wonder if one of his wounds is infected. You swear under your breath. You can’t just leave this guy here, next to Charles Lee’s dead body.

Huffing in annoyance, you crouch down to get a closer look at the guy. He’s huge —with broad shoulders and a figure that must be at least halfway past six feet tall. How in the hell are you going to get him out of here? You have a small safehouse nearby, fortunately—but it’ll be difficult to get him there. Taking a slow breath, you manage to pull the guy up and get him into an awkward position where his arm’s slung around your shoulders. He seems a little delirious, but conscious enough to not drag his feet and at least attempt to walk with you.

Indeed, the walk to your safehouse takes twice as long as normal. By the time you’re safely behind closed doors, you can just barely get the guy onto your bed before you’re grasping at your sides and breathing heavily. You’re not sure how long you spend attempting to stabilize your breathing before the man lets out a pained groan and breaks you out of your thoughts.

Now that he’s still, you can see the sheer amount of damage that’s been done to him. There are scratches and scrapes all over his face, and several worrying bloodstains scattered across his tattered clothing. You bite the inside of your cheek, once again second-guessing your actions. You could’ve left this man where you found him, and no one would have been any wiser. What compelled you to help him?

You shake your head before focusing on the task at hand: cleaning his wounds. After quickly treating the minor ones, you decide to concentrate on the wound at his side. It’s abundantly clear that he’ll need stitches. You can only hope he’s unconscious enough not to notice the pain. And that must be the case—either that or he’s just exhausted —because he doesn’t so much as flinch when you begin to stitch the rather nasty gash.

By the time you’re finished, the sun has almost come up on the horizon. What should you do now? You have things to do—you can’t spend your day watching over this guy and abandoning your duties. You contemplate the thought for several moments. Honestly, you can only hope he isn’t a malicious or overly curious person, and that you won’t return to your safehouse to find it torn apart or on fire. After far too many minutes spent in deliberation, you decide to leave him to heal. With any luck, he’ll still be unconscious when you get back. You can decide what to do with him then.

Fortunately, when you return in the late evening, your safehouse appears unharmed. Unfortunately, you’ve sustained some wounds from your mission—leaving you to walk somewhat unsteadily towards your inconspicuous cabin on the outskirts of the woods. Is the man from last night awake yet? You think you see light peeking from the curtains, but that could easily be your imagination. Your hands trembling, you manage to unlock the door and close it behind you—only for your heart to jump out of your chest as you nearly crash into the man from earlier.

He appears a lot better, his clothing miraculously (and mysteriously) clean and his posture unburdened by injury. “You healed me. Why?” He cuts right to the chase, staring at you as if trying to discern your motivations from your facial expression. He seems slightly frustrated when you just blink at him. After a few seconds, he must sense that you’re unwilling to answer, because he sighs and abandons the question. There’s a beat of silence as he studies you, evidently noticing the tension written across your shoulders, the blood splattered across your clothes, and the dazed wariness of your gaze.

“You seem to be doing better.” You remark, not bothering to answer his question. Maybe if you can just slip past him-

“You healed me.” He repeats himself, making no indication that he’s even heard your prior remark. Is kindness such a foreign concept to him? You don’t have time to contemplate the question before he’s continuing to speak. “Allow me to return the favor.”

You sigh, knowing you don’t really have a choice. You point him to your medical supplies and take a seat on your bed; meanwhile, the man grabs the supplies and returns to your side, looking at you hesitantly. His hands are extended mid-air, as if he was going to pull up your shirt before thinking better of it. Then he takes a step backwards and averts his eyes, embarrassed.

Feeling both amused and strangely self-conscious, you tug your shirt up enough to reveal the gash stretching across your side. Your guest seems to relax, crouching down and beginning to clean it off. There’s an uncomfortable tension that settles in the air, filling the cabin with nothing but an awkward silence.

Finally, after what feels like far too long, the man speaks. “Why did you kill Lee?” He asks, his attention honed in on your wound. Even so, it’s hard not to notice the furrow to his brows.

“Why were you after him?” You ask instead. Neither of you seem willing to disclose too much, and this conversation is only becoming more circular by the moment. The man seems to recognize this, as his nose scrunches and he looks momentarily bothered. Then he shakes his head and begins to place some ointment on your side.

“He was a threat to freedom,” he responds ambiguously.

You study him for a long moment, attempting to discern his intentions. Something about his unapologetic honesty compels you to show him the same. “A spirit guided me to him.” You admit, remembering how the Isu came to you in a dream and implored you to neutralize the threat.

“... A spirit spoke to me as well,” he admits after a beat. You watch him swallow and reach for the bandages, wrapping them around your waist and securing them tightly. His eyes wander across your form once more—as if searching for more injuries—before he finally stands up again. You didn’t realize how much his proximity was affecting you; now that there’s some distance between you, you feel as if you can breathe again.

Still, despite your initial skepticism, this man went so far as to help you. He could’ve easily slipped out while you were away, never to be seen again. But something compelled him to stay—to heal you from your injuries, just like you helped him. “Thank you.” You say begrudgingly. He nods and you feel your curiosity returning. “What’s your name?” You blurt out before you can help yourself.

“...Connor.” He volunteers eventually, after an inexplicable few seconds of silence. You raise a brow and he takes a slow breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “That is the name my mentor gave me.” He explains. There’s a lingering trace of frustration pulling his lips firm.

“What’s your real name, then?” You ask. The man seems genuinely surprised that you’ve asked, as his eyes momentarily widen before he’s hiding his emotions behind a calm mask.

He studies you for a moment. “Ratonhnhaké:ton yónkyats.” He then responds, the slightest hint of a quirk to his lips. “My name is Ratonhnhaké:ton.” He supplements.

Somehow, you feel as if he is showing you a tremendous amount of trust by giving you his true name. “Ratonhnhaké:ton.” You repeat, mimicking his pronunciation. He nods and you feel a smile growing on your own face. You introduce yourself in response, copying the Kanien'kehá:ka greeting he used.

His gaze is intense as he stares at you. You can only begin to wonder just what he’s thinking.

“Thank you.” Ratonhnhaké:ton then says sincerely, after several moments of silence. He shifts his balance and crosses his arms again.

“We’re even now.” You respond with a hesitant smile, gesturing to the bandages around your side. Ratonhnhaké:ton smiles ever so slightly in response. He turns his back, as if ready to depart. You hear yourself speaking before you can think any better of it. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” He asks, turning around to look at you imploringly.

For your village, for your mother. For killing Lee before you could get to him. You settle for staring at him helplessly. Ratonhnhaké:ton seems to sense your thoughts, because he nods knowingly.

“Charles Lee is dead.” He says, with a finality in his voice that he hadn’t possessed last night. “That is all I could have hoped for.” With that parting remark, the man leaves you to your conflicted thoughts. Even as days pass and your wounds begin to fade, the memory of Ratonhnhaké:ton’s touch remains.

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat @always-lying-to-you

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

#defectivevillain #gn reader #male reader #assassins creed #ratonhnhaké:ton #ratonhnaké:ton x reader #Connor Kenway x reader #Connor kenway #assassin's creed #assassin's creed x reader #ac x reader

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reemonna · 1 year ago

Note

Hello can you make a another hc’s or Connor ? ;)

Yes, sure! Thank you for the request! (And sorry for the delay) To be honest, I was looking, lately, for some excuses to write more about Connor since he's my favourite assassin so here are some Connor headcanons. I hope you love 'em! (I will certainly be uploading other Assassin's Creed characters headcanons, but I think I'm going to stick with Connor for a while)

When you're stressed or panicked with Ratonhnhaké:ton / Connor Kenway

He blames himself for what you had to go through

He will try so hard not to show it. But his stoic face gaunts gradually seeing you weep and sob in his arms

He shows various signs, biting his lips, intensely moving his gaze away, gritting his jaws, or clenching his hands cruelly that his knuckles turn white

He gets narky and manic to the point he could set the whole world on fire just for your sake

He's considered socially awkward, thus why he's not really able to express what he really feels correctly -and nicely at the same time- since he comes from an isolated society, and he doesn't open up to anyone about any of these sensitive issues and events, especially these which happened to him as a child. So he just stays silent, holding the urge to say anything that might make the situation worse as much as possible

He will leave you alone for some time to let you calm down and manage yourself on your own should he feel you're stressed out in his presence

He tries containing and perhaps dragging these vengeful and bloodlust thoughts out of your consciousness -in a situation of one of your loved ones dying by the enemy-, whether by distracting you or alerting you of what walking down that road could lead to

He doesn't wish to witness you turning into someone he long-lived detested and fought, like the templars, or like himself sometimes

He'll try to know who's behind your sorrows and deal with them, staining his hands with more blood to keep yours clean

He will lean closer to you, aiming to embrace you, and by accepting his offer he will gently wrap his arms around you, holding you tight and absorbing your anger

Taking you to a tranquil place, where no one can be seen or heard except for your footsteps, and maybe the animals running around you -if you were in an open space among the nature-

He thinks a little walk in such places could ease the tension even a little bit, since he used to spend a lot of his time there whenever he wants to clear his mind

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multi-fandoms-posts · 1 month ago

Text

Jealousy and Blood

X Men Masterlist

X Men Masterlist 2

The bar is dark, filled with voices, laughter, and muted music. It’s one of those nights where the air feels electric—perfect for their plans. Paddy, Cal, and Y/N have settled in the back corner, away from the prying eyes of the other patrons. They know why they’re here: a new victim. Someone who thinks they’re in for an exciting night—only to never survive it.

“Do you see him?” Paddy leans back, his eyes scanning the crowd. Cal remains silent beside him, but his clenched jaw gives him away. Both are watching as Y/N scans the bar.

“Over there,” Y/N says, nodding slightly toward a man standing alone at the bar. He looks like he’s had too much to drink, his eyes lingering on the women passing by. Perfect.

“So, you know what to do.” Paddy says it casually, but Y/N can hear the tension in his voice. Both men are incredibly possessive, especially when it comes to her. The idea that another man might think he has a chance drives them to the edge of madness—and she knows it.

“Of course,” Y/N responds, a mischievous smile curling her lips. She knows exactly what to do. She’ll lure the guy in, make him feel safe—but the jealousy of her two men is almost palpable, even now.

Y/N smooths her hair back and stands up, her steps light and seductive as she makes her way to the man at the bar. She can feel Paddy and Cal’s eyes on her, watching her every move, alert and ready to step in at any moment.

The man notices her immediately, his eyes trailing over her body, and he grins widely. “What brings a beautiful woman like you here?”

“I’m just looking for a bit of company,” Y/N says softly, leaning against the bar. She’s playing the game, letting him believe he’s in control. Her fingers glide over the rim of her glass, and she smiles at him—sweet, innocent, but with a hint of promise. The man takes the bait.

“Well, you’ve found it,” he says, placing a hand on her arm. It’s an awkward, possessive gesture that doesn’t surprise Y/N, but it stirs a quiet rage inside her. She knows Paddy and Cal are watching, and she knows what this moment is triggering. The guy has no idea what he’s walking into.

“Maybe we should go somewhere a little quieter,” Y/N suggests, smiling seductively. The man nods immediately, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. Fool.

She leads him outside, into a quiet alley behind the bar. The air is cool, and the city’s sounds are distant, muffled. She stops, and the man moves closer, placing a hand on her hip as if she belongs to him.

But before he can go any further, he hears footsteps behind him. Paddy and Cal emerge from the shadows, their eyes dark with jealousy and fury.

“Bad move, buddy,” Paddy growls, his voice deep and menacing. The man turns around, startled, as if waking from a dream. But this dream is about to become a nightmare.

“What... what’s going on?” he stammers, seeing the two men approaching with slow, dangerous steps.

“You touched our girl,” Cal says quietly, his voice deadly calm. His eyes gleam in the dim light of the alley. “That was your first mistake.”

The man raises his hands, trying to back away, but Paddy grabs him by the collar and slams him hard against the wall. “And your last,” Paddy adds, his voice icy.

Y/N leans casually against the wall, watching as her two men deal with the guy. She sees the jealousy in their eyes, the deep-seated rage that anyone would even think of touching her. It’s a raw, possessive energy that almost amuses her. She knows the man doesn’t stand a chance—and she’s enjoying how the night is unfolding.

“You Boys get jealous so easily, don’t you?” Y/N calls out teasingly as Paddy punches the man in the face. Blood splatters onto the pavement, and the guy gasps, desperately trying to fight back, but Cal kicks him in the knees without hesitation. A sickening crack echoes as the man cries out in pain.

“Come on, it was just a little fun!” the guy whimpers, trying to wriggle free from Paddy’s grip.

“You call that fun?” Paddy snarls, his eyes flashing with anger.

With a brutal shove, he throws the man to the ground, and Cal immediately lands a hard kick to his stomach. The guy writhes, spitting blood, but Paddy and Cal don’t let up. Each punch, each kick, is slow and deliberate—they want him to feel every bit of what he’s done.

“I think you two are enjoying this a little too much,” Y/N says with a smirk. She can’t help but tease her two men, even though she knows how deep their jealousy runs. “So jealous just because he thought he could have me? You know I’m only yours.”

Paddy glances up briefly, his eyes dangerous. “You belong to us,” he growls, grabbing the man by the collar and spitting in his face. “No one else touches you.”

Cal says nothing, but his kicks become slower, more brutal. The man on the ground groans in pain, but it’s clear he won’t last much longer.

Y/N steps closer, bending down over the man’s lifeless body. Blood drips from his face, and his breathing is shallow. “Well,” she says with a grin, pushing her hair back. “Maybe you learned something before this ended.”

Paddy looks at Y/N, his hand still wrapped around the man’s throat. “You play this game almost too well,” he murmurs.

“It’s not my fault you two get jealous so easily,” Y/N shrugs, but there’s a gleam of desire in her eyes. “But I can’t say I mind.”

Cal delivers one final kick, and the man lies motionless on the ground. The night is quiet again, blood slowly pooling on the asphalt.

“He won’t be touching anyone again,” Cal says coldly, his breathing calm as if nothing had happened.

Y/N steps closer to Paddy, her fingers gently tracing his cheek. “You’re so protective,” she whispers, her eyes shining. “And damn sexy when you defend me.”

Paddy smiles, the blood on his hands doesn’t seem to bother him. “And you know exactly how to drive us mad.”

Y/N pulls him closer, her lips just inches from his. “That’s the plan.”

Together, they leave the alley, the bloody body of a man who made the mistake of touching the wrong girl.

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