#Shay patrick cormac smut

[sweetcocopowder]

Shaytham + " please" for the milestone prompt? 🙏 👀 and congrats!! I absolutely adore your fics!!!

Prompt 7 | Shaytham

Synopsis: Haytham enjoys seeing the Captain of the Morrigan come undone

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: Violence. Roughness. Biting. Marking. Grinding. Begging.

Note: This is the last fic of the Lil Milestone Event!! Thank you everyone for sending in requests and I do apologize just how long it took me to spit all these out. Life has been very stressful and this year has taken quite a turn haha. I hope you enjoy this last fic!!!

The Morrigan groans as mortar fire crashes down around her like shooting stars falling from the heavens. One tears through the main sails and ropes snap apart like thunder, slashing across men’s chest and face. Some come out unharmed while some others are less fortunate and thrown backwards into the churning, cold sea. Shay Cormac grinds his teeth as he veers the Morrigan to port so that her cannons are facing the fort. The one that bears it teeth at them with its mortars and cannons.

“FIRE!” Shay cries out above all the chaos.

The boom of the cannons rings in his ear as the ship groans under the pressure. She’ll take it. She always does. The cannon balls hit their mark and a fort tower falls, crumbling into the sea below in a foam of white and blue. The satisfied swell that rises in him is quickly shut down as the destroyed stone reminds him of an all too familiar memory. He looks away, pushing it down and locking it away. He can’t get distracted, not now. Now while his men need him.

It’s not until now, snapping out of the trance he gets lost into that he notices Haytham. The Grandmaster is crouched down behind the railing, holding on for dear life all while holding onto his hat. It’s almost a humorous sight if it wasn’t for Haytham glaring daggers his way. It’s an expression that brings Shay back to himself. Reminding him of why he’s here. Why they’ve travelled so far up the River Valley to take on the fort with the foreshadow of losing men or even themselves.

Shay brings the Morrigan around again, facing her starboard side this time to the fort. Another volley of cannon balls are fired out with the sound of his booming voice shouting the order to do so. This time, only half of them hit their mark. Some strike the mountainous rock behind the fort and others in the water. Shay curses, shouting out to his men once more to reload the cannons as quick as possible. They’ll get this done. The fort will fall today!

With four more rounds of cannon fire and some quick thinking on Shay’s part, the fort groans in ache as the last of her mortars are destroyed. But the fight is far from over. Shay knows that all too well. Docking the Morrigan is a difficult challenge. Survivors of the fort fire their rifles and muskets toward the Morrigan as she docks. They hide behind the rubble of the fort, ducking in and out like groundhogs when they come out to yip before disappearing again.

Before Shay can race into battle, Haytham is quick to grab at his shoulder and drag him to face is intense stare. “We’ll go around the side of the fort! Up to the top!” He bellow over the retuning gunfire of Shy’s crew. “It’ll be quicker to get to the war room that way!”

Shay’s dark brown eyes dart up to the fort, quickly accessing the way up. “Lead the way,” he grins.

Shay doesn’t hesitate to follow his Grandmaster up and over the side of the Morrigan. Gist is quick to clear the way for the two, a bullet shooting one man clean through the eye. Shay praises his first mate under his breath, but doesn’t let himself get too distracted as he follows Haytham up the side of the fort.

The stone walls would normally be impossible to scale up. But with half of the tone tumbled and destroyed, it’s easy to get a grip on stone and bricks that jut out. Haytham rises to the top first and offers a hand down to Shay. He takes it eagerly, letting Haytham help him up over the ledge.

Shay spots the war room easily. It’s just a hop and skip away to their left. The only thing in the way is a guard staring down his rifle at the two in his watch tower. Shay pushes Haytham away as the rifle cracks. The bullet pierces through the collar of Shay’s coat. Too close to call.

The Irishman is quick to pull is own gun on the guard. He can see the fear in the white’s of the man’s eyes before Shay pulls the trigger. He dead before he even hits the ground. Shay swallows thickly as he sets his gun back into it’s holster. He stares at the guard tower, where the man lays dead. Haytham brushes a hand over his elbow, snapping him from his oncoming thoughts.

“On with it,” Haytham snaps.

Getting to the war room is easy enough. It’s the man inside that has both Templars stopping just inside the door. A man armed with two swords grins at them. Shay draws his own, ready for the fight.

But Haytham rolls his eyes. And as the man charges with a vicious shout. He clashes swords with Shay quicker than either Templar would have liked. Shay is pushed back against the door, a fist smashing against his mouth. More taunting than anything else. Shay’s eyes widen with a fierceness akin to bloodlust. But he doesn’t get the sweet taste of killing the man or even hurting him a little.

The man barks out a choked cry as Haytham’s sword is thrust through his back. The tip sticks out of his chest, glinting at Shay. The Grandmaster doesn’t waste time to push the man off of his sword and down onto the ground. He has better things to do than to bother about a man that he doesn’t even know.  

“I do hate the theatrics some men possess,” Haytham drawls out as he reloads his gun.

“What about mine?” Shay asks.

His Grandmaster quirks an eyebrow his way with a frown on his lips. He points his bloody sword towards him. “I tolerate you on good days,” he quips out darkly.

But Shay grins at that as he sheathes his sword. Haytham returns his antics with the slightest of a smile before turning towards the war room’s desk. He’s quick to look over the many papers and reports spread out on the wooden table. He plucks up three pieces of paper before rolling them up in his hand. Tucking them under his arm, he deems this mission a success with a curt nod of his head.

His dark blue eyes land upon Shay’s lip and the cut that bleeds slowly. He steps around the desk and Shay stays where he is, watching Haytham with a curiosity. His Grandmaster swipes a thumb at the blood on his lip, pondering a thought to himself before wiping it on the front of Shay’s coat. Shay watches him intensely, leaning forward a bit as his chest tightens. But Haytham hums to himself, as if satisfied before passing Shay.

“Let’s get out of here,” Haytham concludes.

And Shay follows like some lost pup.

-

Shay unfolds the papers out over his fleet reports for Haytham, letting the Grandmaster look over them first. He hums in satisfaction, his eyes flicking over the coordinates and the set dates for each cargo ship. Shay sits down in his chair with a groan, his face aching every time he clicks his jaw. He tries to get that right spot, but no matter what he does nothing works. The pops of his jaw are loud in the quiet cabin and slowly, they draw the attention of the Grandmaster.

He stops immediately. Instead he leans over the table to pick up a half empty bottle of whiskey without a word. He flicks the top off and he draws over two glasses near him as well. Haytham watches with interest as both glasses are poured with the golden liquid. Shay pushes one glass over to Haytham before he leans back in the chair and nurses his own.

Haytham takes it as his gaze returns back to the reports. Shay tries to make sense of them, his eyes skimming over the words. But he has never been a strong reader having lived on the streets nearly his entire life. Liam tried to teach him, but it took forever to crack it into his brain. He can read per say, it’s just that Gist normally takes over to make things go quicker. It always brings a bound of shame within his chest that makes him angry and frustrated at no one but himself.

“So was all this worth it for the papers?” Shay asks.

“Yes,” Haytham quickly answers. “Routes of their trade and cargo. Supplies we can obtain to keep out of their hands.”

Why his Grandmaster needs these supplies? He won’t ask any further right now. He doesn’t feel all too chatty after having bellowed his throat raw on deck. He clears his throat, feeling the painful scratchiness that only the whiskey seems to smooth over for a few seconds. So he fills his glass once more for that few seconds of relief.

Shay looks to Haytham deep in thought. Wondering what plans and other whatnots are going on up in that head of his. Has he already thought of a plan to take the Morrigan out to intercept these ships? Does he know that they’ll have to stop somewhere to repair the old girl?

Haytham catches him staring, meeting Shay with a raised brow. The Irishman only smiles as he takes another swig of his drink. He pops his jaw again.

“Are you here to distract me?” Haytham asks.

Shay looks around dramatically, suddenly sitting up right in the chair. “Last time I checked this was my quarters,” he remarks cockily.

Suddenly, Haytham’s hand comes to Shay’s thigh, squeezing lightly. He leans over into the Irishman’s space, his eyes on his lips the entire time. Hooded, dark and filled with ill intent.

“And what makes you think I can’t just make you leave?” Haytham asks lowly.

Shay swallows deeply. The adrenaline of the battle hasn’t fully worn off yet and he will admit he is a bit riled up. Shay licks his dry lips and bites it lightly, not missing that Haytham’s gaze watch the action. His Grandmaster must be feeling the same.  

“Because you enjoy my charismatic comments too much,” Shay grins around the lip of the glass before he takes another swig.

Haytham takes the glass from Shay to down the rest of the amber liquid. He sets the glass aside, forgetting about the fleet report for the moment to capture the Irishman’s busted lip in a deep kiss. Shay’s hands are quick to grab a hold of Haytham, unclasping clips and buckles. He doesn’t hesitate to try and get these stupid bulky clothes off of the man. They always hide the Grandmaster’s body and it always annoys Shay to no end. His heavy cloak falls to the floor, his coat coming off shortly after.

Haytham breaks the kiss to bring Shay out of the chair to his feet roughly with his hands fisted into the front of his coat. Shay grins wildly as he’s spun around to be thrown atop of the table. Neither of them care about he many papers and reports that litter the table top. Some of them are pushed aside and they shower to the floor.

None of them take notice as Shay’s groans fill the quarters as Haytham kneads a palm roughly to his groin. It’s a delicious sound that has Haytham palming more to milk them out of the man under him. Shay’s hip rut up into his hand, trying to get more friction than he’s being given. But Haytham stops all together.

“Please,” Shay breathes out.

Haytham hums at that, loving the view before him. Knowing he can have Shay like this at a simple touch. It’s almost intoxicating. He’s quick to undo Shay’s belt and throws it aside without a care. He pushes the man’s vest and shirt up his torso to reveal the body that’s been made with years of hard work and discipline. Haytham’s runs his hands over Shay’s hard stomach, earning him a shaky exhale from him. Beautiful.

“Hmm?” Haytham finally questions.

“Please, I need you,” Shay whines out.

That commanding Captain that was once on deck is gone for the moment. He looks to Haytham with only want and need. Begging for his Grandmaster to do something, anything.

So, Haytham gives him something. He leans forward to plant a kiss to the man’s stomach. His skin is salty with sweat and he can taste gunpowder on him as well. He kiss and laps at his skin all the same, sucking and biting lightly to hitch those noises from Shay’s busted lips. Haytham hooks his fingers into the hem of Shay’s pants as he ventures lower into the man’s snail trail. He bites lightly at the v of the man’s torso, Shay’s hips bucking up lightly with a groan from his throat.

Haytham grins into his pale skin before pulling his pants down to his knees in one swift movement. Shay’s cock is already hard and red. Haytham doesn’t mind it though, he stands up to lean over Shay. He towers over Shay to grab his face so that the man’s dark brown gaze is looking at him and only him. He wedges himself in between Shay’s thighs so that the only touch he’s receiving is the harsh friction of his closing.

He closes the gap to kiss Shay deeply, his tongue invading his mouth to taste the cheap whiskey. Shay moans into the kiss, his hips rutting upwards into Haytham’s crotch to try and earn himself some friction. But a firm hand on his hip holds him down, a thumb digging painfully into the soft skin.

Haytham breaks the kiss to only mouth at Shay’s prickly jaw. He ventures downwards, biting and kissing the Irishman’s neck, collarbones, chest and back down his stomach. Leaving purple and red marks of different shades. And with each one Shay whines and groans, his hooded eyes watching Haytham in a haze.

“Please,” Shay breathes out again, quieter this time.

Haytham smiles as he hovers over the man’s half hard cock. His deep blue eyes look to Shay with adoration. Only because Shay asked so nicely. He does love it when his best man begs like this. It just as delicious as he tastes.

-

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[intoxicated-chan]

Could I possibly ask for NSFW Shay x reader content? If you’re not in the mood for anything smutty then just general Drabble/hc content is more than fine too! Any Shay content is welcome 🖤

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

Summary ➳ When Shay remembers your dream to see the Northen lights, it takes the chance to take you there and love you under the stars.

(A/n) ➳ Your wish is my command! If you guys have any Shay requests, I’m open!! This was more fluff than smut, I honsetly got carried away with this.

Word Count ➳ 2.6k

Content warnings ➳ Female reader/Navigator reader, teasing, jealousy, mentions of killing, sexual content, public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, penetration, p-in-v, creampie...

Everyone knew that Shay and Chevalier never got along. At first, Shay could take it, the insults, and the fights, but it became worse when Chevalier overheard Shay’s desire to court you. It was during an argument when it was brought up, teasing Shay, laughing at him, and getting physical with him, laughing at his missed punches. As usual, Liam stepped in, silencing Chevalier, and snatching Shay away.  

Shay could still hear his laughter as Liam tried his best to comfort his best friend. But Chevalier became his nightmare when he arrived from a mission to find you and Chevalier sitting on the steps of the manor, a happy expression on your face as Chevalier spoke to you.  

He stepped in, questioning why Chevalier was still here when Achilles was looking for him. But Chevalier saw right through his act, knowing how it pissed Shay off to see you with him and so before he left, he gifted you a book, one that you have been looking for.  

Shay hated how your eyes gleamed as you took the book from his hands and continuously thanked him. It was a rare book in your eyes. You escaped from your home, just days away from marrying an older nobleman when you turned eighteen.  

Shay knew that you knew Chevalier was being kind to you. Another rarity around here and he tried not to take it to heart.  

“Is something the matter?” You asked Shay, obviously clueless and knocking Shay out of his mind. “Did the mission not go as planned?”  

“Everything is alright.” He replied, giving you his signature smile. “I’ll meet you on the Morrigan?” He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it.  

“Oh yes! I have a charted map that I must give.” You nodded. “Chevalier said I was learning rather quickly.”  

“Did he now?”  

You nodded once again before scurrying off, waving him goodbye. He watched your figure head towards the Morrigan, making sure he saw you entering the cabin of the ship. 

And after giving his report to Achilles, you were not in the cabin anymore. You were relaxed, sitting on his ship as you read your book. You just looked so beautiful unbothered and hated to bother you, you were enjoying the moment.  

You swiped the strays of hair in your face away, trying to focus on your book. “Chevalier certainly knows what interests you.” He commented. “My men say you refuse to move, that you refused to sing with them. I thought you enjoyed Leave her, Johnny.”  

“Chevalier’s taste is quite different than mine, I’d give him quite a scare if he truly read the contents of this book.” You marked the page of your book before closing it carefully. “I did not sing but I loved their voices. We should have them perform.”  

“Might I see?” Shay reached for the book, but you pulled it out of his reach. “C’mon, you’ve got nothing to hide from me!”  

“No.” You immediately said but your smile did not falter. “I must show you the map, I’ve located numerous military camps with supplies. They will be useful to the Morrigan.”  

You both walked to the captain’s cabin, Shay opened the door to let you in first and then closed it behind him. He followed you to the table with the map laid out, a part of North America with marked points.  

“It’s quite chilly but Chevalier it would be worth it.” You commented, pointing at one at a time to explain. “When I was using the spyglass, I was able to get some of the contents of the supplies. Here, you get wood and metal. And here, cannons. There is a fort here so you must tread carefully-”  

Shay didn’t bother to listen, rather, he took in your features, how your finger tapped in a certain pattern when at a marked location, how you went into detail about certain patterns soldiers take, or how each of the supplies can help the ship or crew in many ways. 

Memories of a conversation he had with you weeks earlier came through his mind, your laughter, your casual mention of an ethereal light. It all started when you went to North Atlantic once, the temperatures were freezing, and you remained up on the Crow’s Nest. He went to get you himself and he saw you stare up at the sky, like you were waiting for something.  

You explained the stories of his and Chevalier’s crew speaking of green arches that curve across the sky, lights dancing in the sky. You wished to see them yourself instead of hearing them or paintings, you wanted to gaze your eyes upon them.  

You were exquisite, magnificent, alluring... He knew the perfect time to take you to see the northern lights, he wanted to be the first to take you, to see your eyes gleam once more.  

“Are you listening to me, Shay?” 

Shay cleared his throat. “O-Of course!” He answered awkwardly. He tried to play it off, but you did not see him staring again. To see you so focused and helping him, made him all giddy, you are available for him. “You were talking about... Um, that camp.” He gestured vaguely towards the map. 

“Really?” You lifted an eyebrow, sneering but in a joking manner that Shay understood. You then pointed at one mark. “What does this camp hold?” You questioned.  

He leaned over the table, taking a moment to think. “Ammo! There's ammo.”  

You shook your head as you tapped the spot your finger still rested on. “That is not a military camp, Shay. It is a hunting location. I marked it for personal use. Might find some deer or rabbit there.”  

He was caught off guard, his cheeks had a tinge of red on them. “Right, of course. I knew that.” He rumbled, trying to recover.  

But your demeanor shifted from playful to worried. You have never seen Shay so distracted before. “There must be something on your mind. I have never seen you so distant.” Your tone became soft, folding your arms.  

He let his eyes wander, taking everything in the cabin except you. “It’s nothing too worrying.” He assured you but when he looked at you, his resolve softened. “I was thinking what you said once, about the lights, the ones you did not know the name of.”  

“The dancing lights in the sky?” Your expression slowly brightened when you realized. “Yes, yes. They say it is like the heavens themselves are celebrating or the spirits were dancing.” You awed with wonder.  

“I was thinking... Perhaps we could set a course north. Father than we had planned before. I would like to take you to see the northern lights or as Hope calls them aurora... Borealis?” Struggling to pronounce the name, he cursed at himself for screwing it up.  

The surprise and delight he saw on your face was worth more than all the treasures they had plundered. You stepped around the table and came closer to him. “Really? You would do that for me?”  

Shay nodded, placing both his hands on your shoulders. “Yes, I believe it’s time we chased something beautiful, not just profitable or killable.” 

“I’d like that very much, Shay.” His hands moved to cup your face, your eyes locking with his. “Thank you.”  

Nothing is said between you both, your faces just inches apart. The candlelight flickered, adding a touch to the moment. Shay started to lean in first, and you followed his lead. Your lips were about to touch until the doors to the captain’s cabin burst open.  

Liam barged in, he looked urgent but froze in place when he saw how close you two were. “Shay, (Y/n), sorry but-” Liam started, his eyes darting between you two. A smirk was briefly on his lips but stopped when Shay glared at him. He composed himself. “Achilles gave us orders. We need to set sail immediately.”  

The two of you pulled apart from each other, embarrassed, but you tried masking your disappointment, covering it up with a poor attempt at professionalism.  

Shay patted himself down, turning to face Liam. “And?” He motioned Liam to continue.  

“We’re goin’ North Atlantic.” Liam handed Shay a scroll. “The French are moving deeper, Achilles believes they have a lead on another Assassin branch, he wants us to intervene.”  

You fumbled with your hands, clasped together. “I shall start preparing the crew, check supplies, and repair the Morrigan if necessary.”  

As you moved past Liam to exit the cabin, Liam leaned closer to Shay, his voice low but teasing. “Trying to one-up the Chevalier, eh?” He chuckled, but then his tone became serious. “Make sure your head stays in the game Shay.”  

“Always, Liam.”  

With that, Liam left the cabin, the doors closing with a soft thud. Shay stood there, hands on his hips as he let out a frustrated groan. He was so close! He took a deep breath as he had weeks or months to try again.  

Besides, if Hope was correct, it would soon be the perfect moment to see one.  

The Morrigan was anchored in the icy waters of the North Atlantic.  

Liam left the crew’s sleeping quarters after checking for injuries or casualties. He dismissed those standing on the deck of the ship to get some sleep, he and the captain, along with their navigator were going to keep watch for this night. He needed everyone rested and ready.  

He stood at the wheel, arms crossed, and reamined still.  

Up on the crow’s nest, the air was crisp, and the stars shined in the sky. Shay climbed the rigging to the nest, where he found you leaning again the wooden frame, gaze fixed on the sky. You twiddled with your fingers. He was able to sense the nervousness raiding off your body.  

The deep breaths you took, letting out small clouds of your breath each time you exhaled, and shifting side to side. You wore thick clothing to shield you from the weather and the gloves he gave you when you forgotten yours somehow... He took them. 

“Beautiful night.” Shay commented, his voice low as not to startle you. He leaned against the wooden railing next to you.  

A smile tugged your lips, though your eyes didn’t exactly show it. “It is.” You agreed, then sighing, lowering your head. “The lights... Will they be as the crew described them to be? The heavens celebrating, the spirits dancing. What if they don’t appear? what if they’re not everything I had hoped for?”  

Shay looked out across the sky, which was turning darker by the minute, and then back at you. “They will be.” He said, confident. “They’ll surpass every tale, every painting you have ever seen.”  

“I hope you’re right, Shay.” You laid your head on your arms, tired.  

It was a comfortable silence, waiting in the cold as the last light of the day vanished. Shay could sense the disappointment coming off you, he was ready to tell you to rest until he saw a faint flow.  

It grew brighter, greens with blues, it stretched across the sky like ribbons of lights. It was like its own river.  

He nudged her, pointing upward. “Look.” He whispered.  

Your confusion turning awe as you saw the gentle wisps growing. The ocean reflected the colors of green and blue, maybe even purple. It was more of what they said, heavens celebrating and the spirits dancing...  

“The aurora borealis.” You gasped. Your eyes wide in amazement. You could not describe the beauty of the lights, it would not compare to seeing it yourself. “I...” And you didn’t know what to say. All you could focus on was the colors dancing.  

Shay watched your face, it was illuminated by the ethereal grow. It him smile to see your eyes glimmer like before, the slight parting of your lips, your face so focused. His hand reached up to gently turn your face towards him.  

“Shay-” 

“Even more beautiful.” He couldn’t resist any longer. He leaned in, pressing his lips onto yours in a kiss, the only warmth in the chilly night.  

You responded eagerly, your arms wrapping around him as you returned the kiss. “Please Shay.” You groaned in his mouth. “Please.”  

You pushed him against the wooden mast, he kept his hands on your hips as he sat down with you right on his lap. Shay pulled out his knife, cutting a hole in your pants. He tossed the knife aside.  

Your breath hitched at the air hitting your cunt. Shay stuck two fingers in his mouth then slowly pushed them inside you. He thrusted it in and out of you, he worked his fingers deep inside you, he used his thumb to work on your clit, easing the pain, and making you clench around his fingers.  

Shay then stopped and slipped his finger out of you, making you gasp, in shock at the sudden loss. You clicked your tongue, slipping your hands down his chest and to his breeches.  

“Impatient, are we?” He smirked, watching you pulling his cock out.  

You angled your hips, gripping his shoulders as you rubbed the slit of your cunt against the hard cock.  

Shay gave you one last kiss, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck, his facial hair tickling you. “Careful.” Shay warned you. “Don’t go hurting yourself.”  

You trembled as you sank onto his cock, hissing in between your teeth. You choked on your moans as you took his full length then circled your hips.  

You began to bounce up and down his cock, he let out a louder moan. You cried out, throwing your head back. “Oh god, Shay!” You sobbed.  

Shay managed to push you to change positions, laying you on your back where your legs kept him close and inside of you. Your nails bug into the back of his assassin’s coat and Shay planted kisses on your exposed neck.  

He started at a slow pace, making sure you could feel him. Your eyes flickered open, looking up at the northern lights still there.  

“More Shay, please.” Feeling your high approaching.  

He picked up his pace, lifting his head up, and squeezing his eyes shut as he clenched his jaw. But he too, opened his eyes. He can see the northern lights reflecting in your eyes. You looked out of this world.  

That's when you looked him in the eyes, he froze for a moment. Your hand reached to the back of his head, pulling him down to kiss him.  

He continued, feeling his orgasms building along with yours. And after a couple of more thrusts, you both let out loud moans, he cursed as he felt you clamp down around him as he comes inside of you. 

Shay had no qualms about the cold, he took off his assassin’s coat to wrap it around you. He then tucks himself back into his pants and you sit up, feeling the stickiness in between your legs.  

You both sat against the mast. A smile on your face as you laid your head on his shoulder, panting. “Better than the tales and paintings.”  

Though the northern lights were gone, he could still envision them. “I’ll always take to see them.”  

“That would be impossible Shay. But I would love to see them now and again.”  

Shay snorted, standing up and grabbing your hands. You wobbled, falling into his chest. “I’ll go as far as I can to take you to see them.” He placed a kiss on top of your head. “And I’ll take you under them each time.”  

“Since when did you become so romantic?”  

“Since I read your book.”  

“Shay!” You smacked his chest while he laughed.  

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission. 

[marshmallow--3]

Another year has passed where I have not made any progress on my Shay Cormac St Patrick's Day smut fic and a lot has happened since I begun writing it - left the fandom, got diagnosed as autistic and gone down a route of questioning my sexuality and whether I'm ace. Essentially, all that I've created in fanfiction has been masking and following a formula of what I think people find sexy because I have no concept of what sexy is 🤷‍♂️ I still to this day do not understand how you define sexual attraction

Been to a male strip club, found it hot because I thought that's what I was supposed to feel, further down the line realised that actually no, penises are actually quite repulsive and make me feel physically sick

Tried out a sex club to use fear exposure to overcome a trigger, came out of it with more confidence, experience with women (yass), but a stronger repulsion towards sex and dicks than ever before

Been through multiple stages where I've handled total fear of men and overcoming trauma, found women easier to be around in some regards (Tumblr) and yet absolutely terrifying to be around in other regards (Xbox)

All in all at this stage, I would describe my sexuality as "no thanks, not for me"

So I don't think there's any chance of me finishing any work I've started or creating anything else in the future, because I just don't understand it

[winterwriter8845]

"Shall we continue this in the bedroom, or in here?"

Pairing: Reader X Shay Cormac

Warnings: smut

______

Reader's POV

I had been waiting all day for Shay to arrive back in Sleepy Hollow, where we decided to settle down. It had been a week since you had last seen him, since he had left on a mission in the North Atlantic. He didn't tell me much about it because he knew I'd worry about him.

I had prepared dinner for the two of us since it'd be in the evening when he arrived.

It was pouring down rain as I waited. I lit the candles around the house as the sun started to set. I waited in the living room, fear racking through me. It was now eight o'clock, so I decided to change into my nightgown. I returned to the living room once I had changed.

The front door opened, and Shay walked in. He was limping, but he was doing his best not to.

I rushed to him. "Baby, Shay, what happened?"

He shook his head. "I just need to sit down."

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and helped him to the dining room. He sat down in one of the chairs with a groan, and I sat down in the chair next to him.

"What happened, love?"

"It was just a dangerous mission. It backfired, and nearly all of my men were killed. Somehow, a few of my men and I managed to escape."

"Do you need anything? Medicine?"

He shook his head. "I just want you."

"Let's eat first, love. I'm sure you'd love actual food and not rations."

He nodded.

I got up and walked into the kitchen. I prepared our meal that I had left over the fire so it wouldn't get cold. I carried out meals out then returned to the kitchen to get the wine and a couple of cups. I sat the cups and wine on the table, and Shay poured some wine. I sat down at the table, and we started to eat. Once we were done, I took the dishes to the kitchen and put them in the sink. I walked back out to see Shay waiting for me at the table. I joined him, and he wrapped his arms around my thighs, just below my ass, and he buried his face in my stomach. His lips started to pepper kisses on my stomach through the thin material of my nightgown.

"I've missed you so much," he said, his voice muffled.

"I've missed you much more than you can imagine, love." My fingers tangled themselves in his hair.

He stood up and wrapped his arms around my waist. He started to assault my neck with kisses. "Shall we continue this in the bedroom, or in here?"

As much as I wanted to continue in here because I couldn't wait any longer; I needed him, I wanted to do it in the bedroom. I didn't want to have the thoughts of us making love on the table alter where I ate. "The bedroom, please." I kissed his lips.

He took my hand in his and lead me to the bedroom. His limping had gotten better. Once we were in the bedroom, he shut the door. "Lay down, love."

I did as he said and laid down on the edge of the bed. He took his coat and weapons off, but not his shirt or pants. He walked over to me and hovered over me. He ran his hands along my sides, underneath my nightgown, savoring the touch of my skin.

"Hey, love," I moaned. "Can I be on top this go around?" I've always wanted to be on top when we have sex, but he had a way of distracting me and forgetting about my question.

"Yes, love." He kissed me on the lips. His fingers latched around the short sleeves of my nightgown, and he slipped my nightgown off me. Once I was rid of it, he tossed it to the side. His hands made their way up to my breasts. His lips and teeth captured one of my nipples while one of his hands kneaded my other breast. His fingers twisted and pulled my nipple, ripping moans from my lips. I arched my back.

He was trying to coax my mind from my question again, but I refuse to let him. "Babe, please. I want to be on top this time."

He pulled away from my breasts to look up at me. His eyes were hungrily fixed on mine. He grinned devilishly. "Okay, love. If you insist, tell me what to do."

I smiled in triumph. "Sit on the bed."

He did as I commanded and got off me. He sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for my next move. I walked over to in front of him. I unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders. I casted it aside to the floor. Then my hands went to his pants. I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers before I pulled them down his muscular legs. He kicked them aside, and I looked at him lustfully. I leaned up and kissed him. His tongue rimmed the bottom of my lip, begging for entrance. I complied, and his tongue darted into my mouth and explored my mouth.

My hands went down to his manhood and began to stroke him. He groaned into my mouth. He began to buck into my hands, begging for more.

"(Y/N)," he groaned. "Please."

"Please what?" I grinned.

"Please. I need you."

I smiled devilishly. I continued to stroke him, earning more moans and groans from him. I got on my knees in front of him. I blew on his shaft, and he moaned even louder. I kissed the tip of him then kissed the base and then his shaft. I continued to assault his shaft with kisses until I heard him beg for me.

I only grinned before taking his member in my mouth. He moaned long and hard. I started to deep throat him. I gently scraped my teeth along his shaft, and his member twitched in response. I smiled around his shaft. He started to buck his hips into my face as I continued to deep throat him.

His fingers tangled into my hair as he continued to buck. "(Y/N), I'm close."

I looked up at him as I spoke. "Give it to me. I want to taste you." My mouth found it's way back to his shaft and started to suck harder and faster.

His hot seed shot down my throat, and I did my best to suck it up. Once he was done, I pulled back to look up at him. I stood up and pushed him back onto the bed. I hovered above him, and he pulled me down, kissing me. "Mmm, I taste wonderful on your lips."

I kissed him again before commanding him again. "Lay down flat on the bed."

He scooted himself up onto the bed further to where he was flat on the bed. I propped his legs up to where his knees were bent at an angle in the air. I sat down on his lap, feeling his member slip inside me. Once I was fully seated, I waited for my pussy to adjust to the size of him. Once he was done stretching my walls, I began to rock my hips.

Moans were ripped from the both of us. One of his hands reached down to my clit and started to rub circles around it as I rocked my hips. His other hand reached up and kneaded my breast. He started to buck his hips into mine, plunging further into me.

"Shay, I'm close," I moaned.

"Let it go, (Y/N)." He stopped groping my breast, and his free hand wrapped around my waist as if it were going to support me. His other hand continued to rub my clit, picking up his pace. "Cum for me."

His words sent me off. I moaned long and hard as my walls tightened around him and released. I could feel cum oozing out of me. He continued to buck into me until he came a few moments later. He pulled me down to lay beside him. He wrapped his arms around me.

We laid there for a few moments, panting, trying to get our bearing back together. I kissed him on his scarred forehead. "I love you, Shay."

"And I love you, (Y/N)," he whispered before he kissed me. We eventually fell asleep.

[storm-breaker7]

🌟 The Guide 🌟

If you do want to request then your in the right place. This is just some yeahs and nahs about what I'm willing to write.

Also, All my works can be found here (finished and in-progress work). Or you can use a tag I made to find them (#Storm7breaker posts OR #FishyMasterlists)!

* = I will only write this if someone requests it

Characters (I can/will write)

🌌Star Wars🌌

Jedi/Sith

-Qui-Gon Jinn

-Obi-wan Kenobi

-Anakin Skywalker *

-Kanan Jarrus

-Luke Skywalker

-Darth Maul

Clones

-Cody, Fox, Wolffe, Howzer, Colt, Mayday

-Rex, Fives, Jesse, Hardcase, Kix, Tup

-Echo (Pre and post citadel)

-Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, Omega

(Not smut, spice or anything remotely close for omega.)

Other

-Han Solo

-Din Djarin

-Alexsandr Kallus

-Thrawn *

💥Transformers💥

G1 ⛰️

-Optimus, Ironhide, Ratchet, Jazz, Wheeljack, Hound, Bumblebee, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Bluestreak, Mirage, Prowl, Grimlock, Skyfire

-Soundwave

Prime🏜️

-Optimus Prime (& Orion Pax), Ratchet, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Arcee, Ultra Magnus, Wheeljack

-Soundwave, Knockout, Breakdown, Dreadwing, Predaking

Bayverse🌎 *

-Optimus Prime, Jazz, Ratchet, Ironhide, Bumblebee, Sideswipe

Cyberverse🛡️

-Bumblebee, Hot rod, Cheetor, Grimlock, Wheeljack, Perceptor, Chromia, Arcee, Kup

-Soundwave, Shockwave, Dead end

MTMTE/LL (IDW) 🪐

-Rodimus, Ultra Magnus, Megatron, Ratchet, First Aid, Swerve, Skids, Tailgate, Chromedome, Rewind, Brainstorm, Perceptor, Fortress Maximus

-Soundwave, Cyclonus, Crankcase, Krok, Misfire, Spinister

Beast Wars 🏞️

-Optimus Primal, Rhinox, Cheetor, Dinobot, Rattrap, Tigatron, Airazor

(No smut for Rhinox or Rattrap)

Rise of the Beasts 🏕️

-Optimus Prime, Arcee, Bumblebee, Mirage

-Optimus Primal, Airazor, Cheetor, Rhinox

War for Cybertron 🌀

-Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Ironhide, Prowl, Mirage, Sideswipe, Red Alert, Wheeljack, Jetfire

-Optimus Primal, Rhinox, Cheetor, Dinobot, Rattrap, Tigatron, Airazor

-Ratchet

-Soundwave

(Again no smut for Rhinox or Rattrap)

(I put them all in list format of; Autobot / Maximal, Factionless then Decepticon / Predicons) Btw if any soundwave is mentioned, his minibots count aswell 🧍

👔Criminal Minds👔

-Aaron Hotchner

-Derek Morgan

-Spencer Reid

🌋Pacific Rim🌋

-Chuck Hansen

-Raleigh Beckett

🌄Red Dead Redemption 2 🌄

-Arthur Morgan

-John Marston

-Charles Smith

-Javier Escuella

-Sean Mcguire

-Kieran Duffy

-Hosea Matthews

-Josiah Trelawny

(Strictly no smut for Kieran or Hosea.)

*🐀🐢TMNT🐢🐀*

Rise 2018-2022

-Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Mikealangelo

-April O'Neil, Casey Jones

Rise 2012-2017

-Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Mikealangelo

📜🔦 Supernatural 🔦📜

-Dean Winchester

-Sam Winchester

-Castial (what's his last name...)

🥪🕊️ Team Fortress 2 🕊️🥪

-Scout

-Soldier

-Pyro

-Demoman

-Heavy

-Engineer

-Medic

-Sniper

-Spy

(No smut or spice for pyro)

🗡️ Kingsman 🗡️

-Gary 'Eggsy' Unwin

-Harry Hart

-Merlin

-Whiskey

-Tequila

(Strictly no smut for Merlin or Harry. Yea Sorry not sorry)

🪶 Assassin's Creed 🪶

-Ezio Auditore da Firenze

-Conner/Ratonhnhaké:ton

-Haytham Kenway

-Edward James Kenway

-Shay Patrick Cormac

-Arno Victor Dorian

-Jacob Frye

-Evie Frye

(No smut for Evie)

😵‍💫 Marvel 😵‍💫

Spider people 🕸️

-Miles Morales (1610 & 42)

-Hobie Brown

-Webslinger

-Spiderman Noir

-Miguel O'Hara *

(I'll only write smut for e42 & e1610 miles if they are aged up (And Hobie if we assume he's 19. Google his age))

The Avengers 🦾 *

-Steve Rogers/Captain America

-Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier

-Tony Stark/Iron man

-Thor

-Clint Barton/Hawkeye

-Sam Wilson/The Falcon

Others 🌃 *

-Matt Murdock/The Daredevil

💙 Detroit: Become Human 💙

-Hank Anderson

-Connor (RK800)

-Markus (RK200)

-Luther (TR400)

🍷 Stardew Valley 🍷

-Sam

-Sebastian

-Elliott

-Shane

-Harvey

-Magnus (The Wizard)

(I can do anyone else in vanilla sdv but no smut for them)

📦🧩 Miscellaneous 👾📦

-Owen Grandy (From Juarrsic Park)

-John wick (From John Wick)

-Neo/Thomas Anderson (From The Matrix)

-Marty Mcfly (From Back to the Future)

-Ratchet (From Ratchet & Clank)

-Crash (From Crash Bandicoot)

-Graham Calloway/Gray aka Crackle (From Carmen Sandiego)

-Maximus Decimus Meridius (From Gladiator)

-Joel Miller (From The Last Of Us)

-Martin Riggs (From Lethal Weapon)

-Deacon st John (From Days Gone)

Do's & Don'ts

✅Do's ✅

-Sfw & Nsfw 💅

-Head canons, oneshots & twoshots I can do. I can do a series but I'd need time for that.

-Can do OCs (but I need a good description or I might have to make some shit up. OR if your really good to me, you'll link your OC if you've made a post ab them)

-I can do Gn, Male (tho I haven't done one yet), and Female Reader inserts

-Any Character from the universes above I can do plantonic fics if I know them

-I can do relativity Gorey stuff as long as it's for character development (Realistic situations (for said universe))... Nothing too graphic tho 🫣🥲

-I can do poly relationships it don't phase me.

❌Don'ts❌

-There is no way in hell I'm doing yandere. Nuh uh.

-Im not comfy with rape but I can mention it. Maybe touch on it but no scene. Hell nah.

-Im not doing pregnancy or pregnant inserts or OCs so say goodbye to that.

-No pale OCs or inserts. Ok no. I'll do any coloured insert but no inserts that are pale as a ghost. (Go touch some grass. This isn't twilight)

-Im sorry but no marriages or married insert X Character. Just no. (the exception being sdv)

-Im not doing Canon X Canon. I'm just not your guy for those requests

-I suck at writing gay smut soooo.... (My bad, I just don't want to horrify people with; my writing + gay smut)

Requesting

⚠️Please follow these small tips, It will make my life easier⚠️

When requesting;

-I would like if you please be specific. I don't care if you write a whole paragraph, If I dunno what your going on about then I will probably decide what to do myself.

-If your not requesting and your just asking something, please mention that.

-Please be clear with what your asking. I'm not being mean just please make sure I can read it so I get your request right.

-You can keep your request open ended so I have most the reign, I don't mind as long as your good with what comes from it :)

I may add stuff later on if I come across something. Ty my lil goofy silly baba grills 🫶😘🧍💅

[anari3l]

*~* MASTERLIST *~*

Lord of the Rings

Assassin’s Creed

Shay Patrick Cormac x Reader

With a Little Luck and Grace [Chap 2] 

Jacob Frye x Reader

Blighter [Chap 2] [Chap 3]

Overwatch 

Jesse McCree x Reader 

Cupcake -- Jesse was a simple man. And he was definitely in love with his best friend [Chap 2] 

Fallout 

Walk a Hundred Miles -- MacCready and Sole Survivor study in friendship

Dragon Age

A Friend -- Post Trespasser , Trevelyan needs time to heal, and a friend

Kirkwall Nights -- NSFW. Max Trevelyan and Dorian smut. 

Supernatural

 Crowley x Reader

It’s not Blackmail -- You trick Crowley into meeting with the Winchesters

Snowball -- a sort of snowball fight with Crowley 

Trapped -- You get trapped in a devil’s trap

Harry Potter

Severus x Reader

Drenched -- Severus finds the reader alone in the rain

[sweetcocopowder]

Day One: Voyeurism

2023 Kinktober Masterlist after October

Synopsis: Shay is back in Boston after finding that bloody box. But Haytham has to attend a high party on the first night the Irishman is back. And out of curiosity, Shay wants to go.

One thing he forgets though is that, Shay can be quite jealous at time.

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Notes: Artwork is not mine! It is done by the amazing @pandaaaaaaaaxd and this great artwork inspired me to create this master piece of a fic! So, please enjoy the first day of Kinktober.

Warnings: Voyeurism/Nsfw/Smut/Blowjob/Anal/Jealously/Possessiveness/Biting/Hand job/Man handling/Top!Shay/Bottom!Haytham

Seeing Shay again after so long was almost like seeing a completely different person in his place. Yes, don’t get Haytham wrong, Shay still has his wits and commentary, but his charm has become something more dangerous that his aged features now hold. The grey that now streaks his dark hair is a subtle reminder that none of them will stay young forever. The image that Haytham has had in his head of Shay for nearly two decades now is of this young man who had to grow up too fast. 

But now, the man that joins Haytham to a high party holds himself squared and tall. He wears a blue and brown formal attire, something different to what he arrived in Boston in but similar. Fancier if Haytham has to put it.

But he had forgotten just how the man allured him in the first place. Sitting across from him in the horse carriage is something of a familiarity but also a strange coming. Conversation has been hard to strike up. Only because Haytham isn’t sure where they stand right now. 

Yes, Haytham could just simply ask. But he won’t. It’s not in his nature to do so. 

“So, you escaped France unharmed?” Haytham asks, continuing on with what Shay has just told him. 

The other nods his head softly. “Nobody knew I was there. Since I didn’t come in contact with the French Templars while I was visiting, they wouldn’t be able to give anything up to the Assassins there to track me here.”

Haytham turns his head downwards to try and hide his smile and says, “You’ve done well, Shay.”

Shay sees the smile all the same though. Even years apart, Haytham still has the same mannerisms as when they first met.

“Thank you, sir,” he replies back. 

-

The horse carriage finally comes to a stop outside the manor on the other side of Boston. The both of them could have well walked from where Haytham lives, but the Grandmaster didn’t want to arrive so, mundanely. 

Shay opens the door for Haytham, holding a hand for him once outside. Haytham takes it gingerly as he steps out of the carriage, looking up at the manor ahead. He has only been here once before but that was so long ago. But that was after Shay had left, so the other has not set foot here nor met the host of this party. 

“Why is the party being held?” Shay asks as he clasps his hands behind his back. 

He looks up at the manor, but it isn’t with awe. Somewhere along his journey, he has seen bigger and better. Maybe Haytham will ask where that is later on. 

“I do not know exactly. But Mr Shaw wanted me here,” Haytham replies. 

As if coming out of a daze, Shay returns his attention back to Haytham with a smile. He bows slightly with an outstretched hand. 

“After you then,” he inquires. 

Haytham softly rolls his eyes as he walks forward. The both of them travel side by side up to the front door where the sound of chatter inside becomes louder and louder. Two men stand outside, security by Haytham’s guess. They know Haytham by first glance but they look Shay over with uncertainty. 

The younger one places a hand on Shay’s chest, stopping him. The taller man looks down at the hand that is quickly retracted before flicking his eyes up to the younger. Something almost predator. 

“He’s with me,” Haytham simply says. 

The older steps forward, pushing the younger away with a frown. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kenway. Please head inside and enjoy tonight,” he apologizes. 

The door is opened for them by the idiotic younger man and Haytham steps inside without a thank you or another word. Shay doesn’t even offer a word of acknowledgement either. Yet, as soon as the door closes behind the hunter he can’t help but chuckle to himself. 

“Looked like he was ‘bout to soil himself?” Shay smiles toothily. 

The butler comes up to them and holds out his hands for their coats. Shay shimmies his off, leaving him in just a pale blue vest and a frilled white dress shirt that Haytham has to not stare at. 

“It was amusing,” Haytham agrees as he declines with his own coat. 

He doesn’t want to spend too long here. In all honesty, he wanted to spend tonight at home talking to Shay about his time away and catch up in other manners. He had forgotten about the event until Mr. Shaw’s personal butler had come around and asked if he was still coming. Shay had insisted, wanting to see what Haytham had been up to in these years. 

So, one could say they’re here because the curiosity got to Shay. And he doesn’t seem to hide it these days. Everything that grabs his interest or is new, he wants to know more. Maybe that’s just him realizing in his young age that he’s getting too old to let things pass these days. Or maybe he’s been hunting for that damn box for too long. 

That thought brings a pit of something into Haytham’s gut as the butler directs them to where everyone is. The gathering is out the back of the mansion where the garden is. It’s busy and there are more people here than he expected. He stops mid walk on the back porch, before the stairs that lead down to the garden and grazes the area. He can’t spot the host and that alone bugs him. 

There’s a big patio in the middle of the garden where a band plays some soft music that try and lighten the mood. The garden goes further out down a path way to the right and Haytham does not want to start a search to look for the host. The last thing he wants to be doing tonight. 

“Sir?” Shay asks suddenly. 

Haytham realizes he’s been spacing out and looks down to Shay at the bottom of the stairs. He holds out a hand to him with a slightly cocked brow. Haytham, is very charmed by this. But Shay is forgetting himself here. He’s being a little too comfortable. 

He walks right past Shay, ignoring the hand. 

Haytham does notice it takes a while for Shay to come by his side again. The frown on his features doesn’t go unnoticed from the corner of Haytham’s eye. 

“I forgot to ask who’s the host,” Shay picks up conversation. 

“Mr Leviticus Shaw. He’s not one of us but he does help our course and knows who we are,” Haytham explains. 

“Interesting fellow?” 

“Not the slightest. A proper British man. Cocky and egotistical” Haytham scowls as he stops in the middle of a path way. 

They haven’t even left the main part of the garden and he’s still not seeing anyone he knows. There’s butler’s moving out with trays of food and drinks and none of them have come over to see him. He needs a drink or something, or anything to get through tonight. 

“Sir, it sounds like you’re calling the kettle black there?” Shay asks but with a little too much grunt in it for Haytham’s liking. 

He looks to the Irishman out of the corner of his eye with furrowed brows. Shay looks away as if he didn’t make the comment. A butler comes around with champagne and Shay takes two glasses off smoothly. He offers one to Haytham with a sly smile, trying to win him back a little too quickly.  

Haytham takes it though, sniffing it before downing it in one go. He returns the glass to Shay all while the other gently sips out of his own. 

Finally, Leviticus Shaw comes into view and Haytham rushes forward. Maybe he can say his hellos and be on his way. He’s with two other men he doesn’t know but Haytham doesn’t care. Shaw is in sight. 

Shaw sees him first and his expression widens. “Mr Kenway! It is good to know you have come!” He exclaims as he shakes the others hand. 

Leviticus Shaw is a tall stocky man with an ego to match. He isn’t much to look that but it’s his wealth and contacts that has him in best interest with the Templars. And Shaw knows that and likes to twirl Haytham around his fingers. Which Haytham does not like. 

“I thought I’d come to say hello and be on my way,” Haytham starts and goes to continue his sentence but Shaw cuts him off. 

“Oh! Do you have somewhere else to be?” Shaw asks with a frown. “Tonight is meant to be something for my son. Have you met, William?”

Haytham shakes his head as he says, “No, I haven’t had the pleasure too.”

“Oh you best meet him!” 

Shaw excuses himself from the other two men he’s with and begins walking with Haytham with a hand on his shoulder. 

“He’s celebrating buying the horse track down in Boston. We should go there sometime,” Shaw says with a smile on his face. 

But it’s not something that meets his eyes. The pride he shows for his son isn’t real. All to do with the family name that follows him that he has to be proud of. 

“I might not be able to go. I have other matters on my hand, Shaw,” Haytham objects kindly. 

Shaw stops dead, the hand on his shoulder travelling down to Haytham’s waist. The touch doesn’t go unnoticed and Haytham takes a small step back out of Shaw’s touch. 

“That Templar business getting in the way?” Shaw asks in a hushed tone. 

“No,” Haytham simply says. “As I said, I’m only staying here for a simple hello, Shaw.”

Haytham takes a quick look behind him at Shay, who in return is staring right back at him. Two dark eyes over the top of his champagne glass that feel like ice on his shoulders. He turns his attention back to Shaw who is looking over Haytham’s shoulder. 

“I need to be off,” he inquires. 

“My son will be disappointed if you don’t meet him,” Shaw argues back with a smile. 

Unfortunately, Haytham can’t decline in worries of breaking their current alliance with the man. He follows Shaw to meet his son, William and it’s quick and simple.

 But shortly, other woman and men come up to Haytham that he has never met before but they seem to know a lot about him. They touch and laugh with Haytham and touch. May it be hand on the shoulder or arm, or a hand on his back that will move down to just above his hip before it starts to be too noticeable. 

Flirting isn’t something that Haytham is good at. Never has been and doesn’t seem to want to learn any time soon. He wishes he listened closely to his teachers when he was young at being a gentlemen. Allowing one to be charming and endearing at the same time. Haytham would say he is charming, but others would say he’s just stoic and looking for his next meal. 

But for some reason Shaw’s mother-in-law has taken an interest in Haytham tonight. She hugs his arm closely and she has a grip that says she isn’t letting go any time soon. He has forgotten her name even though she introduced herself twice just before. 

“I have a young daughter I would like you to meet, Mr Kenway,” she begins again as Haytham tries to escape. 

For the first time tonight, true fear settles in. 

Just as Haytham thinks he’s going to die here and now, Shay appears before him. The mother-in-law looks him up and down and loosens her grip on the Grandmaster. Obviously, she has seen something more worth while than himself. At this given moment, Shay’s charm is a blessing. 

“Hellooo, and who may you be?” She asks with a wrinkled smile. 

Shay returns with a charismatic grin. “Mr. Cormac, ma’am.”

The mother-in-law lets go of Haytham finally and holds out her hand, in which Shay takes and kisses the back of. 

“What a sweetheart, you know this one Mr. Kenway?” She asks, not taking her eyes off of her new piece of meat. 

“Yes, I do,” Haytham answers as he keeps his distance from her. 

He doesn’t want to be in her grasp for a second longer. 

“And you didn’t introduce me to him? What a crime, Mr Kenway!” She exclaims. 

Shay cuts in though, saving the night, “I do apologize for our short meeting, ma’am, but I have to take Mr. Kenway here off your hands,” he queries. “I need to speak to him in private.”

There must be something about the way Shay talks, or the way he looks at her that has her immediately handing over Haytham.  

“Oh, I’ll let you two men talk then. I’ll come back for you, Mr. Cormac,” she says before wandering off for her next victim. 

“Good night,” Haytham says his goodbyes before turning his attention to Shay. 

And the charm that Shay had, well, Haytham quickly realizes what is it with the slight sway as he stands. Shay steps forward and hooks his arm in Haytham’s. He smells of wine, but he isn’t drunk. Maybe tipsy, but Haytham knows that he isn’t easy to get drunk.

Shay suddenly leans in Haytham’s ear and mumbles, “The drinks are cheap here and I want my coat.”

“Why I beg ask?” 

“It’s getting chilly.” He mopes. 

That is something of a lie because the man is radiating heat like a fire beside Haytham. Shay leads them back across the garden to the manor with a tight grip on his arm, almost worse than that mother-in-law. 

Once inside the manor, Shay doesn’t head to the front door. There are no visitors inside, only a couple of butlers. Shay stops in his tracks and looks around, thoughts running a mile behind those eyes. 

“What are you up to, Shay?” Haytham finally asks. 

He doesn’t pull from the man’s grip but waits for an answer. Shay looks down his nose at him in return. 

“I’ve been watching you the entire night, Haytham,” he answers lowly. 

“Oh?” 

Shay suddenly moves, walking Haytham down a hallway with no butlers. Then, with no warning Haytham is being pushed up against the wall closest to him with no escape. He goes along with it though, his eyes never leaving Shay once as he towers over him. 

“You leave me alone all night so I have to watch from a far as people put their hands all over you,” Shay mumbles deeply in Haytham’s ear. 

“You’re the one that insisted we come,” he points out. 

One of Shay’s hands swivels around the small of Haytham’s waist while the other comes up and cups his face. This sort of touch is so much more welcome to all the other people tonight. The people that may well get their hands on him tonight did it because they could, not because they wanted to. This, this is a want on the verge of desperation. 

“I have realized that I don’t fancy these types of parties,” Shay answers a little sadly that has Haytham grinning. 

Oh, what a jealous man Shay can be.  

With a hand loosening salt and pepper hair, Haytham brings Shay down for a kiss. The kiss is meant to be soft and passionate but it quickly becomes desperate from both sides. Slender fingers slowly undo Haytham’s coat buttons one by one. All so that Shay can hold his waist steady against the wall. 

Almost as the thought comes through Haytham’s mind, footsteps come into ear shot. Haytham’s blood runs cold, his heart jumping into his throat, and he pushes Shay off all together. Even if the butler’s don’t see them doing ungodly things, people aren’t dumb when they see dishevelled hair and half undone clothes. 

Haytham tries to make himself presentable again, not wanting any sort of rumour to get out about him. Because one thing he knows is that butlers and maids talk. 

But Shay has other plans. He grabs Haytham’s little red ribbon that stays around his neck and pulls him forward into the nearest room. Literally the closest door across the hallway that luckily wasn’t locked. 

A hand on Haytham’s chest keeps him against the wall next to the door all while Shay peeps out of it. Watching as the two employee’s of Shaw walk past, their voices fading away. 

“You’re lucky,” Haytham hushes. 

The shit eating grin that Shay sends his way is enough to make Haytham want to hit him. Shay leaves the door open a crack before returning to Haytham. They haven’t even gone any further into this office room, still standing right next to the door. A small dresser digs into the left side of Haytham’s hip. 

“Close the door, Shay,” Haytham snaps firmly. 

The other shakes his head as he comes face to face with his Grandmaster again. “Someone needs to keep an eye out,” is all he says before capturing Haytham in another kiss. 

When Shay had arrived back, there had only been time to talk and report and speak about their lives away. There had been no time for this. Haytham was hoping to allure Shay when they were home again. As much as this has Haytham’s heart beating loudly in his chest and throat and a thrill rushing over his skin, the anticipation of waiting for someone to open that door fully for someone to walk in on them is deafening. Which, only has him wanting to continue on. See how far they can get before someone notices something is up.  

The hand on his chest travels down to Haytham’s crotch, cupping and kneading. Haytham’s hands come to the small of Shay’s waist, a small gasp leaving his mouth as he pulls away slightly from their kiss. Shay’s mouth comes to his neck and a buzz runs down Haytham’s spine that goes straight to his dick. 

Shay’s hand leaves his crotch, for the moment all so that he can relieve Haytham of his coat. It drops heavily at his feet and for a second Haytham thinks someone would have heard. But Shay continues mouthing at his neck and palming his dick through his pants that the worry is quickly forgotten. 

The sound that escapes Haytham as teeth sink down into the soft part of his neck is choked off at the sudden realization that someone can hear him. Haytham waits for someone to come barging in, shouting and gasping at the sight of the Grandmaster Templar of the Colonial Rite. He tries to control his breathing but it is very hard when Shay is all over his body and knows what makes Haytham groan. Even after being years part, Shay hasn’t forgotten. 

But when no one comes, Haytham can’t help but release a short chortle. In return, Shay chuckles deeply against his skin. 

“Worried, Haytham?” Shay asks as he meets his gaze. 

Haytham scoffs. “You play a dangerous game,” he answers lowly. 

Shay grins again as he moves down his body, trailing kisses over his chest and stomach. All until Shay is on his knees in front of Haytham with his hands wrapped around his hips. A breathy exhale comes from Haytham’s parted mouth at such a sight. 

It makes him wonder how he got probably one of the most dangerous Templars in America to be so loyal to him. To devote himself to Haytham. To be allured by Haytham that he is deprived when he is not around. How did Shay last so many years away when right now it seems he can’t go a second without touching him. 

Shay begins to undo his belt and pants with nimble fingers. At this point Haytham can’t get his breathing under control or quiet enough to his liking. A choked groan escapes his throat as his cock is exposed to Shay’s hot breath, his pants pulled down just enough so free himself. His touch has Haytham’s legs shaking and by God has he missed the other. He holds onto the wall for support as he watches the head of his dick disappear around Shay’s already rosy lips. 

He tries to buck his hips forward but Haytham quickly realizes that Shay’s mission is to keep him pinned to the wall. His thumbs dig into his hips, holding him in place as he works his mouth around Haytham. Sucking and swallowing down more and more into his hot mouth until his nose is buried into greying pubes. Then he pops off the end of Haytham’s dick all to come back and mouth the head while making eye contact with him before repeating the process. The look alone has Haytham’s knees shaking, and if Shay wasn’t holding onto his so tightly, then he knows for a fact he would be on falling to the ground. His body his buzzing and Haytham can’t help the small pants that escape his mouth. 

A hand comes to Shay’s hair, gripping tightly but Haytham doesn’t dare push him down onto his cock. Even though the tightness in his gut is getting unforgiveable and his knees feel like buckling under him, he controls himself. 

But as much as Haytham wants to continue he pulls Shay off of him quickly by his hair at the sound of more footsteps. Shay looks up at him past hooded eyes, his mouth agape with saliva dribbling down his chin. He’s such a pretty sight but all Haytham can think about is the person outside. Haytham watches the light coming through the gap in the door flicker as someone passes by. They’re in a hurry and they pass by quickly without a concern for any noises going on his the mansion. 

Shay stands to his feet while wiping his mouth and pulls Haytham forward by his collar for a kiss. The muskiness that Haytham can taste is himself but it’s almost intoxicating. Haytham gets lost in the kiss, forgetting where he is until Shay pulls away. 

“I have missed you dearly, Haytham,” Shay breathes out. 

Haytham licks his lips and swallows. He honestly doesn’t know what to say to that. But Shay doesn’t want an answer, he doesn’t need one to know what Haytham is thinking. That Haytham has yearned for him over these passing years. And he couldn’t answer if he wanted to because Shay presses his fingers to Haytham’s mouth before pushing two digits in. 

“Make them nice and wet for me,” Shay whispers lowly. 

As much as Haytham wants to bite down on the fingers in his mouth purely out of spite, he’s too caught up in the moment. He licks and sucks at the fingers in his mouth, making sure to lather them up as much as he can with his own spit. Shay pushes in a little further, watching Haytham with dark eyes as if waiting for a reaction. And he gets one, going a little too far and triggering his gag reflex. Haytham chokes lightly and grabs Shay’s wrist with a deadly grip. 

Shay pulls his fingers out with a trail of saliva connecting them to Haytham’s lips. “Apologies,” he smirks. 

But he should be apologizing again as he flips Haytham around so that his face is against the wall. Shay shuffles his pants down a little further so that is ass is on display. 

“Can’t we further this when we get home?” Haytham asks as he moves so his forehead is resting against the wall. 

He doesn’t move though, or push Shay away as the man leans into his ear as he whispers, “I can’t wait the long ride back. Not with what you’ve done to me tonight.” His slicked fingers press against Haytham’s hole, hesitating. “I also have plans when we get home, but these aren’t it. You just had to go and be the charming man you are with everyone around you. Making me jealous and bothered.”

Haytham’s reply gets caught in his throat as a finger is pushed into him. He gasps out but a hand is quickly slapped over his mouth with his face angled upwards. He tries to look at Shay but all he can see is the fucking gap in the door and a sliver of the hallway. He breathes heavily through his nose as Shay works him open, entering another finger with the first. 

“Have you let anyone here touch you like I have?” Shay asks another question in his ear, his voice like gravel. 

Haytham gives a small shake of his head as all he can do is grip the wall in front of him. His dick rubs against the wall and is the only sense of friction he’s going to give himself. Otherwise he’s going to be done before Shay gets started. And he doesn’t want to ruin that for the man. But the dark chuckle that comes from Shay might be enough. 

When Shay is content with his work, Haytham feels a little empty, a little exposed when his fingers leave him. But it’s soon replaced with the head of Shay’s cock. He pushes in slowly and it’s painful at first, leaving Haytham to groan and huff behind Shay’s hand. But Shay waits a moment, waiting for Haytham to relax before moving again. He may be desperate, but he isn’t a monster. 

Shay holds onto Haytham as he fucks him with an even pace, slowly pushing in further inch by inch. He pants in Haytham’s ear, grunting every so often and the noises go straight to his cock. 

As much as he wants to hold on, it’s Shay’s hand slithering around his waist to his cock that unravels him. He comes hard and if Shay wasn’t holding him up, he’d have fallen to the ground. His vision goes spotty and he holds onto the wall for support. 

Shay rides himself through Haytham’s orgasm, becoming more and more noisy as he chases his own high. He uncovers Haytham’s mouth and both hands come and hold his waist, bring Haytham back to meet his cock as he thrusts forward. 

It starts to become a bit much for Haytham as he comes down from his high. He grinds his teeth as everything begins to become a little too sensitive. Luckily though, Shay comes forward and grabs his chest from behind as he buries in dick into Haytham and comes in his ass. His whole body shakes as he holds Haytham in place, his hips rutting as he goes through his own orgasm. Looks like Shay was trying to hold out as long as he could as well but failed. 

The two stay still for just a moment as Haytham lets Shay collect himself. The party can still be heard going on outside and Haytham quickly realizes where they are again. As Shay slips out of him, Haytham turns his head to looks out the door slowly. 

The air in his lungs get caught as he meets a pair of prying eyes. As soon as Haytham spots them, they’re already darting off. Maybe, Haytham should have protested a little more about having the door open.           

[sweetcocopowder]

Day Eleven: Vampire/Blood

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist will come after October

Synopsis: Shay and Haytham are out on a longer voyage than usual. Haytham hasn't fed in a while and his hunger is getting to him. He doesn't want to attack Shay crew, so the Captain gives himself up.

Word Count: 2.8K

Genre: Assassin's Creed Rogue

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Warnings: Blood/nsfw/Anal/Desperation/Biting/Vampire

The storm had caused havoc across the Morrigan. Some sails are torn and are having to repaired as they go. There wasn’t too much damage due to Shay’s sailing though. Any other Captain with less experience and less determination would have had their ship been ripped apart and thrown about in a storm like that. Yet Shay had gotten them out of there in one piece. But, it was still enough to set them back a couple of days… or three.

And it was enough to send Haytham over the edge.

It was that night of the news of delay that Shay found the Grandmaster in his quarters looking over his fleet reports with his back turned to him. Shay closes the door behind him with a click and locks it.

Haytham’s red eyes snap to him over his shoulder.

Knowing what the Grandmaster is, isn’t some secret within the Templar order. A creature of the night that feeds on the blood of humans to sustain their well beings. Nightwalkers and lovers of the moon. The British adopted the name vampire many years ago and the name stuck.

It should have scared Shay when he first heard that the Grandmaster of the Colonial American Rite was a vampire, but he only found himself intrigued in the unknown. He had seen a city fall to him disturbing an ancient site from people that lived millions of years before them. What is it to say that unfathomable creatures that don’t obey human laws might live among him.  

And this wouldn’t be his first blood donation to Haytham.

The Grandmaster looks away, as if ashamed that Shay already knows what’s coming.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” Haytham speaks lowly.

Shay moves forward, assuring the other with a hand on his upper arm. As far as Shay’s knowledge goes, Haytham was not born a creature, he was made. Turned when he had saved his sister and Birch’s last act on Haytham was a sin that would take him to the bottom of hell.

It was late one night when Haytham had told him the tale. Because he knew Shay wanted to ask but didn’t want to pry. Many other vampires are thousands of years old. But here Haytham is, still reasonably in his human years.

“The storm came by surprise. We couldn’t have expected it,” Shay tries to reassure even though he knows his words do little.

And in fact, it only has Haytham scowling downwards at the table where his hands grip the edges tightly. Shay’s hand falls from his arm as he steps away. He makes his way over to his weapons and clothes rack while unbuckling all the straps that crisscross his body. He neatly hangs them up before shrugging off his heavy coat and doing the same. Then follows his vest, the leather armour he wears and then lastly his shirt, all folded up and placed away.

He can feel Haytham’s eyes on his back but it isn’t anything romantic or alluring. It feels predatory. The delay in returning back to New York has set Haytham’s feeding back. Shay knew the risks of having him aboard and having such a tight schedule and yet he thought all would be fine yet here they are. Haytham had told him he had fed before, but this, this is different.

It’s not that Shay dislikes this. He would gladly give himself up to Haytham to save any of his crew meeting a much less pleasant fate. It is just the pain. His hand subconsciously runs over the nape of his neck where fresh scars lie from Haytham. The first time was the worst. But Shay will never admit that.

After kicking his boots off, he keeps his pants on and walks over to the bed. He sits down on the edge and meets hooded red eyes from across the room. Haytham hasn’t moved an inch. He reminds Shay of a cougar waiting to pounce, hunched over and staring without breathing.

“Come here, Haytham,” Shay coos over. “No need to be standing there with a frown.”

At that, the vampire huffs in annoyance and bows his head, his shoulders slouching. He takes off his hat and places it atop of the fleet reports and his cloak soon follows neatly folded. He walks over silently, his feet almost not making a sound against the floor of the ship. He stands in front of Shay, looking down his nose at him.

As much as Haytham wants to act or look like his vampirism isn’t affecting him, it is visible that is jaw is clenched and his hands are tightly fisted. And he isn’t talking. He’s more silent than usual and that only means his mind is running like a ship sailing at twenty knots through a thrashing storm.

As if doing this a million times before, Shay begins unbuttoning Haytham’s coat and undressing him. The one thing that they’ve figured out to make this a more pleasant experience for Shay is through sex. When Haytham is only completely naked is when he leans down to Shay. But it isn’t for a kiss. Shay stops him with two fingers over his mouth and slowly pushes him back.

“Can’t get greedy now,” Shay firmly yet softly states.

Haytham’s mouth is slightly parted and two sets of fangs can be seen. It’s almost like looking into the mouth of an animal. He licks Shay’s fingers before taking them into his hot mouth. His fangs threaten to pierce his skin as he sucks on Shay’s appendages. There was one time that Haytham had bitten down, lost in his own world and nearly took his fingers with it. So right now no one would give Shay shit for being a little weary as his heart beats rapidly in his chest. But his dick likes this, hardening in his pants.

Haytham’s red eyes stare intently at him as he makes work of sucking his fingers. When Shay bids it enough, he takes them out and shuffles up the bed. Haytham quickly follows, his eyes never leaving Shay for a moment. Haytham takes off Shay’s pants a little too eagerly before he comes down face to face with him. He licks his lips, staring at Shay’s own.

He opens his mouth to say something but Shay brings him down for a kiss instead. Haytham’s fangs graze against his lips, threatening to make him bleed. But Shay pulls away as Haytham’s teeth snap together centimetres away from his face.

“Enough of that,” Shay teases.

Haytham huffs slightly before he pushes Shay back on the bed. He parts his legs, shuffling himself in between them so that their dicks are flushed against each other. Shay is already hard and ready but if they go too quickly, there’s a risk of Haytham loosing control. And with a hungry vampire breathing at your neck, that’s the last thing Shay wants. He doesn’t want to end tonight with his head on the other side of the room away from his body.

Shay grunts as his ass is propped into the air. Haytham doesn’t waste any time by licking a strip over his ass. A shiver runs down the captain’s spine as Haytham’s silver tongue does it job of loosening things up. His tongue dives into his ass, hot and wet and-

Fangs prick at Shay’s cheeks and he flinches slightly. But Haytham feels it and stops, looking up at him from under his brow. He stares as he continues opening Shay up for the main course. Haytham’s mouth ventures up to his inner thigh, one hand cradling his leg as if it’s something delicate. His plump lips a breath away over his skin. His fangs a little too close to comfort but Haytham wouldn’t…

Before he knows it, fangs are sinking into his inner thigh. Without a warning. Without a notice. And Shay can’t hold the shout that escapes his mouth. The way his body convulses and how he instinctly grabs on Haytham’s hair. He groans as he feels his own hot blood dribbling down his thigh only for it to be licked up. He breathes heavily, trying to control himself and collect himself. But it is very hard. The thigh is much softer than the neck.

“Christ, Haytham,” Shay sneers.

Haytham would apologize but he knows damn well that he isn’t truly sorry. His lust and hunger got the best of him. He knows how to control himself yet every time he’s around Shay, he can’t help it. Especially when Shay is so willing to give himself up to Haytham. It’s a problem yet it’s a problem similar to a drug. A very addictive one at that.

The vampire sucks and licks at the bite mark until it stops bleeding, giving a small kiss before moving away. It still canes, the pain throbbing through Shay’s thigh but it’s manageable. He’ll just be walking with a limp from for the next few days.  

Haytham litters kiss up Shay’s stomach, to his chest then up his neck. A hand slithers down to his own cock and he lines himself up to Shay’s hole. He doesn’t want to wait any longer, he can’t. He dives into Shay a little too forcefully, pushing a deep, pushing a shaky grunt out of the Irishman. Shay holds onto Haytham’s shoulders, nails digging into skin. He pants loudly and shows his discomfort. But he doesn’t say stop.

Roughly, Haytham moves. His thrusts are short and uncoordinated. He’s desperate to get to the main course. Shay stops him before this gets too out of hand. He grabs Haytham’s face with both hands and makes the vampire look at him. He stops dead and his jaw is clenched so tightly that Shay can feel it.

“When was the last time you fed?” Shay asks, his voice all but a whisper.

The shaky inhale that Haytham does is all Shay would need for an answer. But he waits, because he wants to know how long Haytham has been holding out.

The vampire swallows, regaining some strength. “Three weeks before we voyaged out,” he softly responds, his voice cracking.

Shay’s lips thin. So that is why he’s so needy. So desperate to feed. He’s been holding himself together this entire voyage. Today was just his breaking point which is something not at all seen with Haytham.

A pit of guilt settles into the Captain’s gut that he didn’t notice anything. Yet, at the same time he knows he shouldn’t. Haytham has somewhat perfected hiding his vampirism. So, hiding his hunger until it gets bad would just be another thing he has worked on until flawless.

“You silly, silly man,” Shay finally responds.

This gets a short chuckle from Haytham. Which is a big win in Shay’s books.

“Alright now?” Shay asks before they continue on.

“I’m not some fragile antique vase,” Haytham grumbles back.

The man below him raises a brow. Haytham frowns deeply but it’s something along the way of amusement.

Haytham exits Shay so he can reach over the bed. He grabs one of the pillows and positions it under Shay’s back all so this is a better experience for the Irishman. Shay had taught him this little trick after learning it from the girls in Albany. He then reaches back over to Shay’s bedside table and picks out the small bottle of oil he keeps in there.

Truth be told, this isn’t for Haytham. He only needs Shay’s blood but to make this a better experience, the sex is needed. Haytham lathers up his dick with the oil and prods Shay’s ass with some so it isn’t as painful as before.

Haytham re-enters Shay slowly, with more care this time. The moan that comes form Shay’s throat is something that he didn’t know he had in him tonight. The oil does more wonders than just spit.

Haytham starts slowly, letting Shay feel good and let his body buzz with the pleasure. Letting him moan and pant with every thrust that becomes harder with each turn. Haytham comes down on his hands and knees, hot breath hovering over Shay’s neck. But he comes up and gives a small kiss to his lips. Telling Shay that he is here.

Shay holds onto the vampire’s sides as he moves to the nape of his neck again. The pleasure that holds onto him is only something he can get lost in before the next notion comes. He brings a hand down to his cock and strokes himself to the timing of Haytham’s movements. He relaxes his body, knowing that tensing only makes the first bite worse.

The vampire hesitates for a moment, his eyes grazing over the old and new scars that seem to litter Shay’s shoulders and nape. All perfect bite marks caused by Haytham in events such as now. He doesn’t want to think too much of it. Not when he’s starving.  

When the set of fangs sink into Shay’s skin, it isn’t something out of those romance novels he’s read. It hurts. Shay’s body tenses up as he fights his inner self to not push Haytham off of him. He has forgotten about his own dick and his holds onto the vampire for dear life as Haytham’s fangs sink deeper into his flesh. The pain is blinding. It’s almost too much with Haytham keeping an even pace inside of him.

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he’s letting it out. And with his breath, comes out a pained cry. He can’t help it. Shay inhales in shakily, trying to control himself but, as Haytham drinks his fill. The burning pain only ebs down his chest and up his neck. He claws at Haytham, but the vampire doesn’t budge.

He can feel Haytham’s hot tongue lapping at the blood seeping from the bite mark. Pushing down so that more blood pools out. Shay grinds his teeth again, threatening them to crack. Haytham works carefully though. Not letting a drop slip down his body and onto his bed.

“Ah, Hay- Ngh…” Shay grinds out pass his teeth.

His head becomes dizzy, something familiar to what he’s felt before. The dizziness that comes with blood loss. He pants shallowly, his grip beginning to loosen and his dick beginning to soften.

Haytham pulls away, feeling Shay’s fight lesson. He licks at the wound that pearls blood. The taste sends a shiver down his blood. Metallic, coppery yet sweet. He licks and kisses until the bite mark doesn’t bleed profusely, but it still is something that will need attention. He did bite quite deep tonight. The scars will welt more than the others.

His thrusting pauses as he sits up to look down at Shay, who pats him on the thigh lightly. He looks pale, more so than he does usually.

“We can finish this later,” Shay groans out. “Clean me up, Haytham.”

Haytham pulls out and swats the pillow out from under Shay so that he can bring the man into a sitting position. He’s a little dazed but he can hold himself. He stays sitting while Haytham walks over across the room stark naked.

Any other time, Shay would soak in the view. But right now he feels so ungodly tired. He knows he can’t sleep just yet though. But the notion is so welcoming.  

When Haytham comes back, he wipes the blood that drips down his chest. He’s had his fill, even a drop more would be greedy. He dabs a rag with straight alcohol and places it on Shay’s wound. The Irishman hisses, seeming to wake up all at once.

“I-“

“Don’t apologize.”

Haytham frowns slightly. He continues dressing the wound the best he knows. All so that it doesn’t get infected. None of the others have ever gotten infected but Haytham doesn’t want to play his chances.

“Do you feel better?” Shay manages to mumble out.

“Yes.” The vampire pauses in thought. “I appreciate what you do for… this.”

“Mm.”

This, referring to his vampirism. This, referring to his curse. This, referring to his bloodlust. All that Shay is more than willing to help for. Something that Haytham -in his own eyes- doesn’t deserve but yet he receives.

“Lay down now, Shay,” Haytham murmurs. “Gist has the helm.”

Shay doesn’t lay down straight away though. He pries open one eye and looks to Haytham. He stares for a moment, at the red staring back at him that now seem to have dulled.

“Stay with me? Hm?” He asks, his accent making his words slurred together.

Haytham softly places a hand over Shay’s, his own cold compared to the living. He shouldn’t linger any longer than usual. Last thing he wants is to have the crew talking, or let along Gist.

But it’s Shay. The one that has given up so much for their cause. For the Order. For Haytham.

“Just for a moment.”

[sweetcocopowder]

Day Three: Bath Sex/Mutual Masturbation

Kinktober Masterlist coming after October

Synopsis: Shay is back in Boston for a short time while on a lead on the box. Haytham realizes how much he's missed the man, but all while knowing Shay will leave soon. Duty for the safety of man kind and all.

Word Count: 1.8K

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Warnings: Nsfw/Angst/Feelings/Hanky panky

For some reason, it’s a peaceful night in Boston.

The bath sits in front of the fire, a long cast iron tub that only someone like Haytham could afford. One in which only himself and Shay have the privilege of sitting in. Shay has only bathed in those small wooden ones where your knees are up touching your ears all while you scrub away. But to Shay now, being able to lay down and stretch his legs out in hot water is heavenly. He could fall asleep here. The water still nice and hot and keeping warm from the fire.  

All while Haytham sits at his desk on the other side of the room behind Shay writing out reports. Trying to find out the next best cause of action for these new precursor sights he has found. The soft scribble of pencil on paper is a soothing background noise.

The reason why Shay is back in America in Haytham’s bath and not half way across the world somewhere is all because of the box. His now cold lead had bought him into Boston, where he so happened to run into Haytham in the Green Dragon. Or maybe Shay made sure he was in the tavern when Haytham and the rest were around. The looks on their faces when he popped up. He wish he could have that painted.  

Haytham’s pencil suddenly snaps under the amount of pressure the man was putting it under. It’s soon followed by a curse and the pencil is heard hitting the other side of the room.

Shay slowly opens his eyes. “Haytham,” he slowly says.

Said man almost jumps out of his skin. He had forgotten Shay was in here with him. The thought that the hunter is with him again is still an odd thought. It’s been a good few years. Haytham leans back in his chair and runs his hands down his face with a soft groan.

“Come here,” Shay drawls.

He doesn’t bother looking over or moving in the tub to peer upon Haytham. But he doesn’t have to, to know that the man is frustrated and pouting. And Haytham is. He stays sitting and stares at the back of Shay’s head with a frown.

“Don’t mind me, Shay,” Haytham conflicts. “I’m alright.”

“Haytham,” his name is said more sternly this time. Almost like a parent warning their child.  

The Grandmaster loudly sighs so that Shay can hear his annoyance. But it doesn’t stop the man from waving a hand, beckoning him over. Haytham stares at him a moment longer before standing and walking over to where Shay is in the tub.

Shay smiles slyly as Haytham stands over him with his arms crossed over his chest. There is no soap suds sitting on the top of the water to cover his body from Haytham’s wondering eyes. Shay’s hair falls down his shoulders, the greying hairs at his temples seeming to catch the fire light. It reminds Haytham all too much of his own and how old they’re both getting.

Shay holds out a hand, “Join me, Haytham.”

Haytham wants to protest, but as he gives a look over to his desk he’s reminded how this moment could slip through his fingers if he chooses to say no. How quickly Shay could be pulled away from him again. And then how many more years will he go without seeing the other man?

He unclips his cloak and lets it land at his feet with a loud thud. Shay’s smile now reaches his eyes as he watches his Grandmaster strip in front of him. He rests his hand back into the water, waiting patiently for Haytham to finish. Layer by layer until he’s kicking off his under garments. Brown eyes trail down his body, not ashamed by looking at something marvellous in front of him.

Haytham steps in slowly and Shay moves so that he can lay down between his legs. The bath is a little too small but neither of them complain. Even when the water splashes and sloshes out a little as Shay sits up straight against the back of the tub, not a word is spoken or snapped.

Now settled and finally being able to just, look at Shay, Haytham’s words almost get caught in his throat, “I thought I would never see you again.”

The smile from Shay’s lips falls and his head tilts ever so slightly. “You didn’t think I’d find the box?” He asks a little offended.

Haytham shakes his head once. “No, no Shay of course not. I know you’ll find it,” he phases off.

But Shay waits for him to finish, letting the fire crackle and pop and the gentle breathing of the both of them to ease the silence. Haytham looks down, finding himself not able to speak as he looks at the other.

“I thought I would be long dead.”

Haytham leaves it at that. Long dead before Shay got back. That leaves a heavy lead like feeling in the hunter’s gut. Shay stares at him for a moment with a look in his eyes that Haytham can’t read.

He then sits forward and moves until he’s kneeling over Haytham, using the sides of the bath tub to keep him up. He’s mere inches away from Haytham’s face, looking at him through thick lashes.

“Yet, here you are,” Shay speaks so softly it’s almost lost to the night.

“And yet, here I am.”

With that, Shay brings their lips together with a passion long forgotten. His hands come to Haytham’s sides, holding him as all he can do is melt in the touch. It has been too long. Haytham’s hands are caressing Shay’s head, running his fingers through his hair and tugging ever so slightly. He feels a little desperate. Like someone that hasn’t been touched in over a decade.

But hasn’t he? Hasn’t Haytham kept to himself all these years and focused solely on his own work. Searching and failing for these goddamn precursor sights. Each trail leading to a dead end that leaves him more frustrated to isolate himself in his office every hour of the day. Leaving himself to rot away by himself and become dead meat. 

But Shay, Shay treats him like a cherished, lost item now found. With a long lost love that has never gone away and has only been festering inside him. Touching and feeling Haytham for any new changes that have happened over the years or any old ones he has always gone over. He finds the old scars and moves quickly over them, but when a finger flitters over a new mark he inspects it with curiosity. All while he moves from Haytham’s mouth to his chin, then down his neck where he begins to lightly suck and graze his teeth over sun kissed skin.

Haytham inhales through his teeth sharply, gripping onto Shay’s shoulder as his body is caressed. A hand travels down Haytham’s body to wrap around his hardening cock. At the simple touch, Shay has the man under him grunting and clenching his jaw to hold in those noises he so much wants to hear.

“Sh-Shay,” Haytham breathes out.

A grin can be felt against his skin as Shay strokes Haytham slowly but surely. The warm water makes it easy as skin glides over skin. But it’s all a little too much when Shay brings his own dick into his fist with Haytham’s. Shay moves his hips to jerk Haytham and himself off as he pants softly and lovely in his ear. The water sloshes at the movement but the clean up is the last thing on Haytham’s mind.

He stares at the ceiling as he can feel the pleasure rippling through his body. His gut tightening and once in his younger years, he knows he would have been able to last longer. But his stamina is not what it once was. And he has realized he is very much starved for touch.

Haytham bucks his hips up into Shay’s hand, trying to get more friction that the water isn’t providing. He grips onto Shay, not wanting to ever let go. His body feels like it’s on fire and about to explode but there’s something stopping him. It just isn’t enough to push him over the top despite him being right on the edge. And it becomes frustrating as he bucks his hips up again.

Suddenly, Shay bites down hard into the nape of Haytham’s neck as the younger man comes. It’s almost like a shock of electricity strikes him as he finally tips over the edge. His orgasm rips through him as he comes into the water along side Shay. He doesn’t realize his vision had become spotted until he has to blink a couple of times to come back.

Haytham’s body goes placid as Shay hauls himself back up with hands on either side of the tub. A sly smile covers his face as he collects himself, his dark eyes flickering over Haytham’s face. The older man brings a hand up and cups Shay’s face. He runs a thumb over the crows feet now revealing themselves on the hunter’s face. Almost making the man look wiser for his years.  

The words leave Haytham’s mouth before he knows it, “I regret sending you away.”

Shay’s smile faulters a second time that night and he stares blankly at him now. Haytham swallows thickly as he brings his hand away from Shay’s face. He has always been known as a mood breaker.  

“I’m sorry,” the older whispers.

“You can’t go saying things like that, sir,” Shay almost hisses, but holds himself off. “I have a duty to the order.”

Haytham quickly corrects himself, licking his lips before speaking firmly but softly. “I didn’t mean it in such a crude way, Shay. I regret sending my best man away only because you are the only one I can truly trust in the Order. That is why I sent you away because I know you will come back with the box.”

Haytham cups Shay’s face with both of his hands this time. But brown eyes refuse to meet his own gaze.

“But that does not mean I miss you every day, and regret my decision even if it was for the good of man,” he finishes, needing these words to be said so that Shay knows.

Haytham blinks as a tear strikes his eye from above. The water might be spoiled and becoming cold, the fire dwindling to soft coals so the light in the office room is dependent on a singular lantern from the desk, but that all doesn’t stop Haytham from holding Shay close to him as the younger man’s body shudders under his touch. A strong ache squeezes at Haytham’s heart and throat at the realization that Shay will be off once again.

And oh, will he be missed dearly.

[sweetcocopowder]

Day Seven: Drunk Sex

Kinktober Masterlist will be posted after October

Synopsis: The lot celebrate Shay's birthday. Both Shay and Haytham get a little too drunk for their own liking, making sex a struggle.

Word Count: 2.6K

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Warnings: Nsfw/Drunk sex/An*l/Spit as lube

“Twenty-five, sir.”

Maybe Shay thought Haytham already knew his age. Or maybe Gist or someone else in the order had told him. But, the Grandmaster chokes on his ale as he’s taking a sip and the liquid sprays up into his face.

Everyone at the table goes silent, all trying to hold in their laughter. It’s quiet a scene, seeing Haytham shocked still as ale drips form his chin as he bends over forward on his chair. All so he doesn’t ruin his coat and clothing. He retrieves a handkerchief from his breast pocket, flicking it out before wiping his face.

Shay clears his throat so that any hint of amusement is gone from his voice, “I do apologize.”

Haytham holds up his hand as he sets his drink on the table with the others. He does not normally drink with his fellow Templars, but tonight is special occasion. Shay’s birthday. Something that Gist forced out of him a while ago. And only because it is Shay is Haytham here in the Greenwich Tavern.

The Grandmaster gathers himself again, patting his handkerchief into his pocket again.   

“It is alright, Shay. I just, did not expect you to be so young,” he says with the slightest hint of a chuckle.

If it was anyone else, no one would have seen the smirk on the Grandmaster’s lips, but Shay does. He sits back in his chair, holding his own ale with two hands on his lap.

“I wouldn’t exactly call twenty-five young, sir,” Shay responds as he feels his cheeks heat up.

“Bollocks, Shay!” Gist cries out, slapping his Captain’s shoulder. “It is the prime of your life and you are still a wee babe in our eyes!”

Shay chuckles at that and tries to his face away. “I don’t feel young no more, that’s for sure.”

“Wise beyond your years,” Haytham responds.

That, has Shay looking his way with raised brows. In all his life he’s never been called wise and it feels, odd. Gist raises his cup and cheers towards Shay. All but Haytham clink their cup with his and celebrate even further. The entire rest of the night, the comment keeps twirling in Shay’s mind. All the way until he drunkenly stumbles down the halls of the tavern to his room.

He had booked a room out earlier that day because he knew for a fact, that he wouldn’t be able to make the trip home. He normally can hold his liquor, but keeping up with Gist is a whole other game. Who knew an American could keep up with an Irishman.

He stares at the doorhandle as he tries to open it, fumbling around with it. It isn’t until a warm hand overlaps his own and takes it off gently to open it with a key does he realise his mistake. Shay leans on the door heavily, his forehead whacking against it. He looks at Haytham with a big smile on his face.

Haytham may also be a little bit topsy turvy. He did notice that the Grandmaster tonight was in such a good mood. A mood that had Shay buying him a drink every time he noticed his cup was empty. Who is he to blame? How could he have such a handsome man buying his own drinks.

“Are you to help me inside, kind sir?” Shay slurs.

This only brings a warm smile to Haytham’s features that makes him look gorgeous. It’s a rare thing to see, but Shay relishes in each moment it happens.  

“To make sure a drunkard fool gets home safely so no one snatches them up?” Haytham asks.

Shay only raises an eyebrow, waiting for the other to answer his own question.

“Yes, yes I am.”

“Then snatch me away, sir,” Shay smiles.

At that, Haytham opens the door.

And Shay falls into the room like a sack of potatoes.

He hits the ground heavily with a grunt and a groan. He knows for a fact that everyone in the tavern would have heard the massive thud. Someone across the road would have heard him.

Haytham has to compose himself before he looks around the door frame at Shay laying face down on the floor. Haytham will have to be honest with himself here, he is a little intoxicated himself and this is all a little bit too amusing for him right now. Shay was terrible with buying him so many drinks. But how could he not, he would have hurt the more man’s heart.

He quickly jumps inside and moves Shay’s legs with his boot so he can get the door closed and locked. Shay finally gets his arms under him but the world spins around him. Maybe that last pint wasn’t such a good idea. Haytham gets his arms underneath Shay’s pits and lifts him. But it’s all dead weight at this point and Haytham grunts as he tries his best. He truly isn’t thinking. Something only Shay could bring out in him.  

“Shay a little help?” Haytham wheezes.

The Captain gets his feet under him but he trips over himself, pushing Haytham back. Luckily, the bed is behind them and they both fall onto the bed in a heap. Haytham huffs out his lung capacity of air as Shay lands right on top of him. A drunk laugh escapes Shay as he rolls of the Grandmaster.

“Image having the others see us now,” Shay comments.

“I would rather not,” Haytham bites.

Shay’s crew and Gist are still partying downstairs without the main man. The noise can be heard from the second floor where the rooms are. The floors aren’t all that thick in the first place. He’s surprised someone didn’t come up and investigate the loud bang.  

Haytham had retired first, and then an hour later Shay had followed suit. Not wanting to make it noticeable but it isn’t like half the crew has their own rumours about the both of them now. Even Gist has asked a couple of times and each time, has narrowly escaped the nearest thing being thrown at him. But none of their comments are out of hate or disgust. Yet. Either way, Shay would hide their asses before any harm came to him or Haytham.

“Did you really think I was older, sir?” Shay picks up randomly as he shuffles up the bed more.

But he’s dragged down the bed quickly by the straps crisscrossing his chest. Haytham begins unbuckling them and suddenly, Shay likes where this is heading.

“I might of. I’m not sure really now,” Haytham comments, his dark blue eyes focused on the straps.

But his normally elegant fingers now fumble of the buckles and straps. He curses under his breath as he gives up, letting Shay take over.

“Why do you ask?”

Shay shrugs as he sits up, throwing the straps to the ground. He then takes off his belt and sash to even begin taking his coat off. Sometimes nights like this, Shay really wished he didn’t wear so many layers and armour.

“Just thinking about how old I look I guess,” Shay responds.

Haytham stares at him out of the corner of his eye. After a few seconds, he meets his gaze with an expression that says “Huh?” For the first time, his quick witted mind can’t catch on. Which is a little odd for Shay, if he was proper sober.

“Do I look old?” Shay asks instead.

Haytham expressions furrow and stares at the Irishman for a moment. Trying to collect his thoughts in his drunkard haze to try and answer correctly. This isn’t the time to be having this conversation, but truly it is the only time they’ll ever speak like this. Outside of rooms like this one, it is strictly formal.

“There are some times where you act your age, Shay. But most of the times, the things you have been through, you act as if you have many years of experience under your belt. Many more than others can say or ever do in their own life times,” Haytham answers back proper, seeming to sober up a bit.

Shay now realizes, he truly is too drunk for this talk. And with the slight sway as he sits, Haytham sees that as well. Haytham comes to Shay, wrapping a hand around his neck and bringing him in for a kiss. The simple touch feels like fire, the alcohol in his system doing wonders.

Haytham pulls away all to whisper, “We’ll speak of this another time, not now.”

“Not now,” Shay repeats, not being able to form any other words.

The hands that glide over his body feel so good. Shay captures the other’s lips in another kiss, needing more, needing to taste the alcohol on Haytham’s tongue, needing to touch the warm skin it almost burns. Shay helps Haytham strips of his clothes and vice a versa, layer by layer, piece by piece until every bit is on the floor of the tavern room. Leaving both men completely nude for each other to gaze upon with a drunkard smirk.

Shay can’t help but feel Haytham’s toned body up, his fingers flittering over old scars and new. The Grandmaster shivers under the touch, breathing shallowing with his mouth slightly parted. Shame is something of the past tonight. All that lies between them is pure adoration.

Haytham pushes Shay back down on the bed with an almost comedic oof. But he stays there, watching and waiting. Not for Haytham to do whatever he’s planning, but for his head to stop spinning. He groans lightly to himself, covering his eyes with the back of his hand. All while he lets Haytham do whatever he’s doing. But whatever this is, he’s very much into it. Because everything in his body tingles.

He just wishes he didn’t drink that last pint so he can enjoy this a little bit more.

But his cock still stands at attention, needy and ready. But he don’t dare touch himself because every single pass of a hand or finger is like a hot fire. A hot fire that makes him want to burst like a firework.

Haytham grabs his thighs and lifts them up so his ass is on full display. Now, Shay uncovers his eyes so that he can watch the first Grandmaster of the American Colonial Rite’s tongue disappear into his ass.

Shay gasps and tenses up, grabbing the bed sheets like some dollar whore. His senses feel like their heightened but sloppy at the same time. It’s an odd sensation but he wants more. And Haytham gives it to him. Eating him out slowly and making sure that there’s enough spit and saliva for the next course of action. Because neither of them bought any oil, and no tavern would supply such a thing in this day and age for an act as sinful as this. For Haytham’s tongue is a wicked devil at that.

Woman must fall at his knees for such a talent.

When Haytham is done, he has Shay trembling in his touch. The Irishman swallows thickly, chuckling at himself. He’s usually so much well preserved in bed. Same could be said for Haytham. But with drink in the equation, all manners seem to go out the window.

Haytham moves up Shay’s body a little lazily, all so he can capture his lips in a sloppy kiss. Their teeth clack together but neither of them care at the pain that ebbs in their faces. Shay runs his fingers through Haytham’s hair, making it a complete mess and ridding him of the cute ribbon he always has in his hair.

Shay moves his kisses to Haytam’s chin, then his neck and then his nape. All until he has the man panting over him.

Haytham reaches down to his own cock, grinding his teeth at the touch of his own hand. He brings himself to Shay’s ass, waiting a moment before pushing in slightly. Shay hisses loudly, grabbing onto Haytham as the head of his cock enters his ass.

“A lil warning next time,” Shay seethes.

“Apologises.”

Shay keeps a hand pushed against Haytham’s stomach, stopping him from moving any further. The burn and stretch isn’t good right now. Something that Shay wants to push away from. If they had oil or literally anything else but spit, this would be so much easier and less painful.

But idiot drunks will be drunk idiots.

When the pain eases is when Shay lets the other move. Haytham grinds softly into him, all too sluggish to do anything proper. But neither is Shay, so he can’t blame the man. He keeps his legs wrapped around Haytham’s waist and that’s the best he can do for the other.  

With each shallow thrust Haytham is able to ease more of himself into Shay. He grunts in Shay’s ear, the sensation feeling as good as the Irishman is feeling as well. The burning pleasure that comes with being intoxicated is something that Shay chased a lot when he was just a fresh adult. Going from tavern to tavern and drinking and whoring. But this feels so much better than all those times. It’s nothing like all those quick fucks and girls in Havana.

But by God does he feel good right now. He holds onto Haytham for dear life, because he feels like if he lets go, he’s going to float away. He holds Haytham close so they’re chest to chest all while the other moves his hips, grinding just so there’s enough friction between the both of them. Shay’s dick sits in between their stomachs and the smallest movement as his balls tightening. The noises Haytham is making in his neck is going to send him over the edge let alone everything going down there.

Haytham keeps an even pace for a while before he gets up on his hands and knees, pushing Shay’s hips up with him. He bows his head, hair falling over his face as he quickens his pace. He pants loudly now as he tries to reach his high. And this new angle and pace has Shay gasping and grunting at the tingling sensation. At the coil tightening in his gut that is close to bursting.

He wraps a hand around his dick, matching Haytham’s pace. He wants to come at the same time. Try to at least but they’re both so close. Shay can feel it and by the way Haytham is going at it, he’s close as well.

Shay comes first, his whole body tensing up as he lets himself go onto his stomach. It hits him like a punch to the jaw, making his head spin and spiral. He tightens around Haytham’s cock, stuttering the man’s movements. But Haytham uses the last of his energy to thrust hard a couple more times before driving his dick deep into Shay with a grunt and a moan. The warm sensation of Haytham coming inside of him makes Shay’s own orgasm something that makes the room spin even more. He has to quickly cover his face with a hand to make everything stop, all so that he doesn’t have to lean over the bed and vomit up everything he’s ingested in the past couple of hours. Which Shay thinks would be a complete mood breaker.

Haytham collapses onto Shay, almost winding the man. But the weight is fine, it grounds Shay quicker than what he was doing himself. And Haytham doesn’t seem to notice which is a plus. They both stay still, catching their breath and too tired to move.

Shay makes the comment in his head that they should clean up before passing out. He doesn’t know if he gets as far as voicing it because he’s not sure what his mouth is doing at the moment. Everything seems numb. It’s all lost though as he passes out, slipping into a drunk and sex filled sleep.

[intoxicated-chan]

CW ➳ Female Reader/No use of (Y/n), light sexual content, groping, fluff fluff, Shay being a loveable idiot who can’t keep his hands to himself…

Shay cannot keep his hands to himself. After hearing his comment about bosoms and buttocks, you cannot deny that he’s the kind of guy to like both. It’s like Shay refuses to keep his hands to himself, always touching you one way or another. But he will restrain himself to not embarrass you or listen to your boundaries if you have any.

But when it comes to grabbing your bottom or chest, Shay does that behind closed doors. Specifically in colder climates, when the two of you are alone and near a fire, he’d shove his hands under your shirt to grasp your chest, ignoring your whines. He’d complain himself, rubbing his hands together wasn’t enough, and neither holding them near the fire.

Shay does have his hands on you, on your shoulder, grazing your hand with his, linking pinkies, or if he can’t be around you at the moment, he always has you within his sighs, if not then he’ll search for you.

During his assassin-turned-Templar era, he withdrew most of his touching, mainly because he was focused on other things. But whenever he was alone with you, either in the captain’s cabin or his estate, his hands were on you. Sharing kisses either on the deck of his ship or the Captain’s cabin, Shay makes sure no one is around to sneak his head to your bottom squeeze it, and hear that familiar sound coming from you. He’d chuckle at the glance you give him, but he knows you love him too much as he loves you with every fiber of his being.

Author’s Note under the cut…

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

I cannot describe how much Shay has me in a chokehold right now, I’m on sequence 2 I believe and I am loving on Shay’s Templar era. Please fed me your Shay ideas 🙏 I’m begging you all 😩.

[sweetcocopowder]

Day Nineteen: DP/Naga

Synopsis: Shay has been chosen to be given over to the town protector and is more than willing to go. When Haytham shows himself, the naga that protects the town he's more than thrilled to show him how much of himself he's willing to give. He wants all of Haytham.

Word Count: 2.9K

Pairing: Haytham Kenway/Shay Cormac

Warnings: Anal Sex. Double Penetration. Double Penetration in le same hole. Naga Haytham Kenway. Hand Job. Sex Pollen but it's venom. Coming untouched.

Notes: Helloooo. I know i have written anything much with Shaytham this year for kinktober so here's something thats very different from the rest of my fics. :) Wanted to try something out and Naga Haytham sounded too good to pass up.

Being chosen for the ritual is one thing. The preparation is another. Being dragged up the hill to the temple is another. But being thrown into the temple with the deafening sound of the door being slammed shut behind him is the thing that sets Shay Cormac off.

Shay stumbles to his feet, brushing the dirt off of his naked body. His knees hurt where they’re scuffed, trying to pat the dirt from every inch of his skin. After so, he peers around with furrowed brows. The place smells musty and stale, as if nothing has moved inside for a very long time. He’s never been inside of the temple, and he never thought he’d be here, ever.

There are white columns that rise to the ceiling and lit chandeliers that hang lowly from said ceiling. It brings an orange and moody ambience to the large corridor that is the temple. And at the very end, lays a stone statue of the naga. Half human, half serpent. The naga that everyone talks about in the tow and every worships to protect said town. The statues serpent tail coils around himself as his upper body is hidden behind the stone scales and muscle.

Slowly, Shay moves closer.

He’s heard stories. He swallows thickly. The stories have all been graphic and… tempting. It makes anyone in the small town below the temple to be more than eager to be chosen. How did Shay get so lucky? He makes his own luck. And sometimes it gets him into real deep shit. But right now, his heart beats loudly in his chest at the anticipation of the night.

The stone scales shift suddenly, kicking up dust and other stuff that has settled upon the resting naga. The stone shifts colour, from grey to a dark shimmering black that reflects off the chandeliers above. It’s beautiful. He can’t take his gaze away from the shifting coils of scales, not even when a toned torso emerges from beneath. Dark, slitted blue eyes land upon Shay with an interest, a slim, sly smile forming upon the handsome face of the creature. His black hair falls over his shoulders and it almost looks soft to touch.

“Well, well,” a deep voice curls out from the naga. “It’s that time of the year again?”

Shay shivers at the voice. He stops dead in his tracks, almost ten meters away from the creature. He’s so much more beautiful in person. Handsome. The stories could never do him justice.

The village has a name for him. The original name is something old and forgotten, but the modern translation is something akin to, Haytham.

The naga slithers towards Shay off his stone pedestal. He���s, smaller than Shay would have thought. The way the town talks about him, Haytham is as big as the entire temple, struggling to move around inside. But his torso isn’t any bigger than the average man, his serpent half no wider than his waist. The scaled tail stretches out to at least five meters, pushing and winding across the stone floor.

Shay doesn’t realize how close Haytham is until a hand brushes against his torso as he circles the man. A violent shiver runs down Shay’s back, but he doesn’t move away. The naga grins toothily, his forked tongue flicking out between his teeth. He tastes Shay in the air, and smell something he likes very much.

“They know how to pick them for me,” Haytham’s deep voice curls over Shay like smoke.

 “Strong,” he says as he caresses his back, a clawed hand feeling up and around to the man’s chest. He towers over the man, feeling down his torso as he lingers over him, digging in nose into his hair and flicking his tongue out again, smelling Shay once again. It’s like he can’t get enough.  

“Succulent,” his tongue flicks out again at that. Haytham curls back around to look Shay in the face, grabbing his chin and making him look up. Shay doesn’t budge, moving to where the naga wants him. The man looks into those blue slitted eyes, unable to look away as if he’s in some trance. They look at him as if he’s a meal. But Shay’s crotch twitches under the look, soaking it up all the same. He breathes out shakily, almost keening with need.

“Cute,” Haytham utters under his breath, more to himself than anything else.

Haytham moves back to behind Shay, his hand never leaving the man as it ventures around to the back of his neck, and then down his back. His short claws tickle his skin, goosebumps flushing over his tanned skin. Shay flinches violently as one of his ass cheeks is suddenly cupped and squeezed.

“Relax,” Haytham hums.

“You just frightened me is all,” Shay admits out softly.

Haytham hums again, much deeper this time. He quirks a brow at the accent that drips from Shay’s words, but doesn’t comment on it. “Apologies.”

Shay’s breath hitches as a thumb spreads him open, pushed in easily with a wet squelch. The town made sure that he was more than prepared. He was drained and wrecked afterwards, but it’s for the best.

Haytham is delicate as his thumb is replaced by two fingers. He’s mindful of his claws, not wanting to damage what is his. A third is more than easily added beside the rest and Shay groans deeply at that. Each movement sends a mix of pain and pleasure through his core, his inside being more than sensitive. Haytham’s tongue flicks out as he observes Shay’s reaction.

Without warning, Haytham pulls his fingers out and he’s quick to wrap a hand around Shay’s throat. His tail knocks the man’s feet out from under him so that he can coil himself around Shay, holding him tightly. But not too tight.

Shay doesn’t squirm but he breathes quickly, his eyes so wide that he looks like a spooked horse. The pure heat that radiates off the naga is overwhelming at first. Shay would have thought that he’d be as cold as a snake and just as slippery. A shiver runs down his spin as long, needle like fangs run over his neck.

“This will help you relax,” is the only warning Haytham gives before plunging his fangs into Shay’s neck.

The man startles out a cry, trying to move away but Haytham only coils tighter around Shay. He can feel the venom course through his body quickly like hot, boiling water through his veins. It instantly makes him feel fuzzy all over and his head becomes a foggy mess. He feels like he’s overheating, an immediate sweat breaking out across his forehead.

Haytham releases Shay only enough so that the man leans heavily against his scaly form. Shay’s knees shake violently, and he holds himself up right by holding onto the naga. He groans deeply as the venom surges through his body like hot needles and straight to his rapidly hardening cock. He pants loudly, trying to compose himself but even without touching himself, his cock burns with want already that’s its painful.

“Now don’t go fainting on me like the last one,” Haytham’s tongue flicks out past his soft grin. “He couldn’t handle the venom and passed out right about now. Couldn’t handle it. But you,” the naga drawls out as he wraps a hand around Shay’s cock, giving it a firm and tight stroke. The motion earns the naga a loud, strangled cry from Shay, his grip becoming firm on his scales. His legs shake but he keeps himself upright and Haytham’s thin smile widens even more at this. “But you are a strong one aren’t you.”

“Y-yes,” Shay hisses out through his parted lips. “S-why I was picked- ah!”

Haytham doesn’t stop his firm gripped strokes, palming at Shay’s head to collect precum that’s quickly beading to run it down the length of his shaft. He becomes fixated on Shay, quickening his pace suddenly to milk those panted moans from the man’s throat to returning back to the slow and agonizing strokes. He seems transfixed almost. And with the venom flowing through Shay’s veins, now a comfortable warm that’s making his pale skin flush, all he wants is to cum.

Haytham’s pace quickens again, hand now slick with precum -that seems to just be oozing out of Shay at this point- making the glide just that much easier. Shay trembles, his knees threatening to give out. But with a hand firmly on his chest, pushing him back against the mass of Haytham’s tail behind him, it’s the only thing keeping him upright. Shay squeezes his eyes shut, pants and moans and groans passing past his lips as he quickly nears the edge. He becomes louder, and louder, his body convulsing with each stroke as if his entire body is one twitchy, live wire. He grinds his teeth as he nears, but it never comes.

A hand clamps at the base of his dick, stopping Shay from coming. He twitches and jerks in the naga’s grip as a needy  whine releases from his throat. Who knew the serpent could be so cruel.

“I do apologize,” Haytham’s forked tongue flips out between his lips. “I do like to play with my food.”

Before Shay can realize what’s happening or collect himself, he’s being hefted up on top of Haytham’s scaly hips. His back is to the naga’s chest and something, hard, warm and slimy slips between his thighs. Shay opens his eyes to gaze upon the two red cocks that stand at attention in front of him. They have a slimy sheen to them and have a tapered head. Shay swallows thickly, not being able to pry his eyes away.

They’re a little bigger than the average human, but the thought of having not one, but both of them inside of him sends a thrill through his body. His cock twitches at the thought.

Haytham licks a hot strip from the base of Shay’s neck to his ear. His words curl and hum deeply in his chest, “Do you think you can take both of them? Take all of me?”

One of his hands splays itself out on Shay’s stomach. Just the thought itself makes Shay’s dick twitch between his legs. He finds himself nodding before he can stop himself. Yes. He would like that very much. He can’t even form the words, his mouth suddenly going dry.

With a tight grip around his waist, Haytham lifts Shay up above one of his weeping cocks. With a shiver, Shay helps guide one towards is prepared hole, the head slipping in with ease. He shivers as with little to two thrusts, Shay is seated heavily on the naga’s cock. It fills him out in the best places, pushing deep inside of him and pushing against all the right bits. He exhales shakily as he plants a hands in front of him on Haytham’s scaled underside.

Haytham’s second cock rubs and twitches against Shay’s own, earning a shaky whine from the man. His own cock is still so sensitive, but the warm slicked cock is almost intoxicating. Gazing down upon it, he does hope that he can take the second one. He wants everything Haytham can give him. Not just for the town’s sake, but he’s been wanting this for a long, long time. He’s always wanted to be chosen for this, to see the great Haytham and have the naga take his body.

“I do welcome that they prepare my food for me before hand,” Haytham hums. “I’m not one to be jealous of such things. Not when it makes my meal much easier to take.”

His words send a shiver down Shay’s back. He shifts his hips up a little before slowly gliding down against, using Haytham’s thick scaled body as leverage. He repeats it a couple of times, getting lost in the feeling of Haytham inside of him. And every time he moves, Haytham’s second cock rubs up against his own dick and stomach.

“I wanted to be ready for you, Haytham,” Shay moans out through parted lips. “So that you wouldn’t grow frustrated or bored.”

Haytham chuckles darkly, his tongue flicking out to taste him once again. “Dear one, I don’t think I could get bored from you. You seem to be the best one yet,” he says deeply, a dark chuckle emitting from his lips.

Haytham shudders out a sigh with satisfaction as Shay angles his body ever so slightly so that his cock rubs heavily against his walls. He hisses through his teeth, wanting to loose himself in the man wanting to give himself to the naga but he grows impatient. Not bored, he corrects himself. Just impatient.

While holding Shay in place, he shifts his body so that he’s positioned in an S shape with the man still on top of him. Being around two meters off the ground, Shay holds on tightly to what he has, his fingers digging into the soft scales of the naga’s underbelly. But Haytham’s grip is firm. He wouldn’t dare let his little offering fall.

With his grip still on Shay, he holds him in place as he pulls almost all the way out to thrust upwards harshly. It knocks the wind out of Shay and he can’t catch his breath shortly after because Haytham sets a fast and deep past. The pure bliss and electric that shoots through Shay is almost mind numbing. He keens and whines, not being able to do much but take it. With the venom shooting through him, it’s as if everything is heightened to a ten.

With this, Shay isn’t going to last long. He can already feel himself nearing the edge and by how loud he’s getting, he’s close. His voice echoes off the temple walls. The venom makes everything hot and tingly and makes everything feel oh so good. Be damned if the town can hear him down below, let them hear him.

“I- ah! want all of- nnghah! you,” Shay manages to pant out in between Haytham thrusting up into him.

The naga’s slitted eyes narrow onto Shay and a wicked smile comes upon his face. He leans forward, wrapping an arm around Shay’s chest, the other holding him by the waist still to keep him just on the head of his cock.

“You surprise me,” Haytham grins as he licks a hot strip up Shay’s neck. “Not many have actually wanted to take both of me.”

“Please,” the man all but whimpers out.

Shay stays still as he feels the second head nudge up against his hole. He grinds his teeth as it slowly pushes beside the first. The stretch stings, but Haytham is slow. The slick on his cocks eases the way as he nudges and softly thrusts upwards into Shay, getting inch by inch of himself in.

With each inch, Shay can’t silence himself. He feels like he’s being split open, but in a good way that makes him feel beyond full. And he can’t helped the choked cry when he’s finally seated with all of Haytham inside of him. And Haytham doesn’t waste any time. He begins a shallow, quick pace that nudges everything up inside of Shay. With each movement, Shay feels every lung full of air pushed out of him with a whiny groan. His hands shake where they’re balled up on Haytham’s scaly tail.

It isn’t long before the naga is pulling half way out to slam his hips back up into Shay, setting an almost cruel pace. He holds onto Shay with arms wrapped around his chest, bringing him up against his own body. He wants to hear every noise that Shay has to offer. Every sound that he’s able to create from the man.

The new angle has the naga’s cock pressing up against that beautiful bundle of nerves that sends a full body jolt through Shay every time he passes by it. Haytham doesn’t stop, his tongue flicking out over Shay’s sweat sheened skin to taste him.

“You truly are a delectable offering,” Haytham mumbles deeply. “I may not give you back. Might keep you all to myself.”

Shay cries out as he comes untouched, holding onto Haytham’s arms as every nerve in his body lights up. His whole body stiffens and twitches as hot, thick ropes of cum land onto Haytham’s dark scales.

Haytham doesn’t stop, grinning to himself as he rides Shay through his orgasm. He fucks him until he’s quivering with oversensitivity, but Haytham isn’t too far behind him. He comes deeply into Shay, rutting upwards with an intensity that has the man choking out a sob. Haytham wants all of him inside, not moving an inch until he’s spent everything.

When he pulls out with a shakily exhale, thick white cum spills out over himself. Shay shakes in his hold, trying to collect his breathing once again. His eyes are squeezed shut and his legs shake violently, his body feeling like jelly. Haytham flicks his tongue out, tasting Shay once more. Delicious. It makes his whole body shiver with the anticipation for the future. He holds tighter onto Shay, his claws threatening to dig into the man’s soft skin.

Oh, the village isn’t getting this one back any time soon. He’s going to have fun with this meal he’s been given and he doesn’t like sharing when something is this delicious.

-

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[intoxicated-chan]

❝𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬❞ ✠ 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐜

Inspired by “Army Dreamers” by Kate Bush // Best viewed in dark mode

Shay was scared to admit that he had fallen for Liam’s younger sister, he planned to take his secret to the grave and he succeeded for while until he found you years later, this time, possibly on the opposite sides.

Paring ➳ Shay Cormac x Liam’s Sister!Reader

Content Warnings ➳ Female Reader/Assassin Reader, typical Assassin's Creed violence, blood, assassinations, sexual content, death, murder, other tags to be added...

CHAPTERS ↓ Tumblr & AO3 Only

𝐎𝐧𝐞 ✠ ❝𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬❞

𝐓𝐰𝐨 ✠ ❝𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞❞

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ✠ ❝𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬❞

𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 ✠ ❝𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬❞

𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 ✠ ❝𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬❞

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission. None of the photos used belong to me! Credits to @cafekitsune and @benkeibear for the dividers. I use it all the time.

[sweetcocopowder]

Day Thirty One: Werewolf

Kinktober Masterlist will be posted after October

Synopsis: A blood full moon is it's way and Haytham has had a past experience with a werewolf turning feral on a night like this. He just hopes that Shay isn't the same.

Word Count: 4.7K

Genre: Assassin's Creed Rogue

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Warnings: Werewolf stuff/Tongue stuff/Size Kink/Ass fucking/Man handling or shit like that/that word for monster fucking/rough sex

Haytham doesn’t knock or make himself known as he enters Shay’s manor. The owner of the estate doesn’t even peer up from his papers he’s currently nose deep in. Striding across open foyer, Haytham throws the newspaper in front of Shay on his table. The man doesn’t even look up to Haytham, only frowning at the paper that has ever so rudely interrupted his reading.

It’s folded open on one of the last pages where the times of the tides are, and the moon cycles are for the month. With a little hesitance, Shay picks up the newspaper and gives a quick skim. His brows furrow and he looks closer at what he is seeing in front of him.  

“A blood, full moon?” Shay asks more to himself.

Haytham pulls out a chair for himself on the other side of Shay’s office and takes a seat on the other side of the table. He takes his hat off and places it on top of Shay’s paperwork that seems to be a mess, but it’s organized on the filer’s account. Shay looks up from the newspaper and chucks it on top of the other papers.

“Never heard of such a thing,” Shay points out.

Haytham hums. “Yes, well. I’ve witnessed a blood moon and it doesn’t take fairly to wolves.”

The Irishman only looks to him for a moment, as if waiting for an answer. But when none comes, he asks, “I’m guessing you’ve come across a wolf during a blood moon?”

“Yes.”

“And how did it fair?”

“Dead.”

Shay nods with his lips thinned. “Lovely.”

Why isn’t he surprised by Haytham’s bluntness at this point. There’s some days where he thinks he’s gotten use to it and then there’s others where it takes him solely by surprise.

Haytham picks up the newspaper and gives it another once over even though he’s read it a good couple of times. He’s dealt with werewolves before, Shay isn’t the first cursed man that he’s come across in his lifetime. But only once has he had the luck of being around one during a blood moon.

For his liking, once was enough. Yet with his relationship to Shay, it seems like he’ll have to go through this situation again.

“What happened during the blood moon?” Shay asks.

Even though Shay is a were, one of the cursed, he is only newly turned. Turned by his once called brother, Liam O’Brien. Changed him on the night that Shay was escaping from the Assassins. A reason why he survived the fall and the cold ocean that greeted him below. Haytham would call it a miracle, while Shay would say something else entirely that children should not hear.

Monroe had informed Haytham of who Shay was from the very beginning. Haytham himself, had seen it as a big risk. A risk not worth taking and that he should just kill Shay before the next full moon came around. But that didn’t happen. Monroe had always been known to have a big heart. Even for a Templar.

“The one I encountered had gone feral. Almost like he was in a rut like state,” Haytham explains bluntly.

Shay is a bit wordless and tilts his head slightly as if a dog would. “A rut?”

“I don’t know how else to explain it,” Haytham admits truthfully with a small wave of his hand.

But at this, Shay sits further down in his seat with a huff. His eyes flicker across the reports and the papers on his desk. He suddenly becomes uninterested in finishing any of this today. Haytham thought he dove too much into his work. But with tracking other ships, plus his own and keeping up to date with gang activity, it all does start to pile up after a while. Haytham is just grateful he has the need to keep his work space tidy. On a good day at least.

“I’m meant to be in Albany on that date,” Shay brings up with a soft chuckle.

Haytham thinks on that. The were that he encounters on the blood moon didn’t know him. It was all by sheer coincidence that the two ran into each other that night.

But Shay and Haytham know each other on a level that not many get to see in their lives. In such a short time, they’ve formed a bond that ties them together through their experiences in life. And in doing so, Haytham has helped Shay with his transformations. Controlling the curse when he changes, he is more placid and more so has to wait out the night until he turns back. He has told Haytham that he still feels the hunger, the urge to rip and shred like the curse ensures upon. But Shay’s will is something stronger than most men.

They haven’t had a bad night since last year. But that could all change with this upcoming blood moon. But it’s Shay. There could be something that Haytham might be able to do on that night that can keep him at bay.

“And you won’t be able to delay your trip?” Haytham asks even though he knows what answer he’s going to get.

“Not if you want to lose a lead with the Assassins.”

As Haytham thought. Always onto something. Can’t stick to one place and can’t let the Assassins rest. Especially not after what they’ve done to Shay. The nickname, Templar Dog has seemed to stuck as what the Assassins call him now. Another one Haytham has heard but hasn’t told Shay yet, is the Grandmaster’s Lapdog. He doesn’t think Shay needs to know of it either.

“I’ll join you to Albany then,” Haytham says as he stands from his seat.

Shay opens his mouth to argue but a hand is held up in front of him. His words get caught in his throat and he shuts his mouth just as quickly. Haytham grabs his hat and straightens himself out.

“I’ve already made it final. Make board for one more on your ship.”

-

The trip to Albany goes smoothly, giving Shay and Haytham a week before the blood moon. But the itch that scratches underneath Shay’s skin becomes more eager with each passing day. He hasn’t felt anything like this since the early days.

To distract himself, he keeps himself occupied with the lead. There are meant to be a few Assassin’s or gang members still lurking around the town even though Shay has ratted them all out. But they like to linger about place they aren’t welcome.

To Shay’s dismay though, the week goes by quicker than he expected. Even Haytham lost track of days with helping Shay try and get this done as quick as possible. But the day of the blood moon comes around the corner and neither of them are ready to leave Albany.

-

Somehow, Shay had convinced Gist to get everyone off the Morrigan for the night. Gist knows of Shay’s curse but has never seen it firsthand. And he has told Shay firmly he will never have the desire to do so. Shay doesn’t blame him though, it isn’t a pretty sight. Haytham, not a man to sugar coat things, has said it’s something out of a nightmare.

The both of them keep to Shay’s quarters as soon as the sun begins to set, hoping this room is enough for the oncoming night. Haytham locks the doors behind him even though he knows it won’t do much to stop Shay from breaking out if he wanted to. He has seen this man charge through thick wooden doors and break bones in fully grow man’s hands. And all that was done without his were form.

Without saying a word, Shay begins stripping down to just his pants. It’s like a routine at this point, all so his clothes don’t get destroyed in the transformation. On his first transformation he had destroyed a pair of clothes that weren’t easy to replace. Nor was it fun waking up in the middle of nowhere butt ass naked on the outskirts of New York.

It was truly a morning to remember. He had ran into Monroe along the way back. The Templar had been looking for him and all he found was a naked, dirty man hiding behind a bush. That was the morning that Monroe’s suspicion came true and when his care for Shay became something along the lines of parental. Or maybe colonel and soldier. Shay will never know.

Haytham takes off his cloak and over coat, along with his hat to make himself comfortable. The night is a bit humid, even for the River Valley. Shay watches him with tense shoulders. A sinking like feeling grips at his throat. An image washes over him, of one of him hurting Haytham tonight. He turns away, eyes straining to the floor.  

Yes, this line of work and this line of life isn’t for the faint hearted. Shay knows, has been made very well known, that Haytham knows the supernatural side of life. Has come into contact with more than one werewolf and on the rare occasion, vampires. But feral werewolves can’t help their transformation, going rabid across the area wherever they hole up. While vampires like to keep hidden in plain sight.

Sounds a lot like the Assassins, but as far as Shay is aware, there were no vampires in the fold. Not while he was there at least. But no sane man goes around telling everyone that they’re a vampire.

Shay exhales slowly as he sits on the edge of his bed with his face in his hands. He can feel it. He doesn’t know how to explain it. He’s tried to do so with Haytham. But how do you explain something that only a were can feel. He can feel the coming of the transformation. The calling of the moon that it seems to have. Shay will have to admit, it is the oddest side of being a were.

But there is one thing that does make sense now. The moon has never looked so beautiful. Unfortunately though, he won’t be able to look upon her tonight.

Haytham pulls out the only chair that Shay keeps in his quarters and places it in front of him. The noise is like a hammer hitting metal inside Shay’s head and he flinches away. His senses begin to become heightened; they always do on full moons.

Shay looks up from his hands with a raised brow. The other man sits with his legs crossed and his hands resting on his propped knee. Posh bastard.

“What are you doing?” Shay asks.

“I’m keeping an eye on you,” the other quirks as if it’s obvious.

Shay only stares at Haytham for a moment. Wondering how on Earth he has come to this situation. Where he grew up, he was taught with the Assassins that the Grandmaster of the Templar Order is a ruthless, heartless son of a bitch.

And yes, they were right about the ruthless part… and somewhat on the heartless. But there are times like this that Shay is able to see the little bit of softness that Haytham is willing to lend out to the right person. The parts of him that Haytham has kept to himself for so many years.

“Promise me something, Haytham,” Shay begins.

“Hmm?”

“If I do go feral, put me down,” he says bluntly.

Instantly, he can see a cord is struck in Haytham. He’s good at hiding it but Shay has picked up his tell. His eyes slightly squint and he ever so slightly raised his chin upwards. As if he’s just tasted something sour on his tongue or smelt something off.

Haytham looks down to the bracers he still has on his arm. He flicks his hidden blade out, the both of them looking over the silver metal. One blade that has probably taken more lives than Shay has. Haytham isn’t shy of using it, nor waving it around. The sight of it almost says a million words itself. The way Haytham looks over it with his own thoughts racing through his head. Most likely, having to image sticking the blade into Shay’s neck.

He flicks it back in with a satisfying click.  

“Only if it comes down to it,” he answers poorly without looking up at Shay.

At this, Shay only frowns. But he guesses that’s the best he’s going to get. Particularly, out of a man like Haytham Kenway.

-

The two continue to talk about mundane things, about Shay’s hunt for the Assassins and about what they’ve found out in Albany. A couple of hours pass by as they wait for the blood moon to rise above the horizon.

And when it does, both of them don’t need to look outside to know it has.

Shay suddenly stops midsentence and bows his head with a pained groan. His breathing becomes shaky and his whole body tremors. He goes to stand in haste but his knees instantly give way. He falls forward and Haytham is quick to catch him, but Shay pushes him away just as fast. He keeps his back to Haytham, not wanting him to see the full mess of the transformation.

It feels different though. More like rats clawing through something to escape fire. Something burning hot within his core that instantly makes him break out in a sweat. It’s hard not to shout. It’s hard not to give in to the choke sob itching at the back of his throat.

And all Haytham can do is stand back and watch.

On the floor, Shay cowers on his hands and knees. Bones can be heard popping and breaking out of their sockets. The first cry that comes from Shay’s throat is something that Haytham will never get use to. No matter how many times he’s seen Shay’s skin ripple and change as if there’s something alive moving under there. No matter how many times he’s heard bones break to only heal back into stronger, bigger ones. No matter how many times he’s watched Shay’s skull and jaw snap and break to elongate forward into a wolf like snout. No matter how many times he’s watched human teeth get pushed out to make way for long fangs that snap and clash together past the blood that erupts from his mouth.

No matter how many times, Haytham will always feel sick in his stomach at the sight of such an inhuman act of God. He doesn’t even truly know if God has a play at this. This is something else entirely. Something that an average human would not be able to grasp at with their small minds. One where they would be instantly calling this a sin. Something that Satan has bestowed upon them and that needs to be burnt with fire. But something like this would only laugh within the flames. He’s seen a were do it before. A truly terrifying sight to behold.  

Shay grows at least twice his size, his legs twisting into something wolf like and he rips his pants in the process. A thick layer of dark brown fur grows quickly over his body, more shaggy around his neck and face that is so thick that it’s hard to get to the skin underneath. Hard for a blade to get through.

Haytham watches this all unfold in front of him, keeping as still as he possibly can. He won’t lie, knowing the unknown right now terrifies him. Especially as two amber eyes slowly turn his way. A silence falls over the cabin that has Haytham’s heart beating loudly in his ears.  

Shay breathes heavily, panting like a mutt with his tongue lolled out. For a moment, Haytham thinks that Shay is all here. That the blood moon hasn’t done anything to Shay’s will.

But his lip curl up in a snarl to reveal long fangs underneath. Shay tries to stand to his full height, but his head hits the top of the cabin with a loud thud. His ears flick in annoyance but his eyes are locked onto Haytham. Even hunched over, it’s as if Shay takes up half of the cabin. He stands more humanoid than anything but his face is wolf like. It’s short and stubby, his teeth virtually too big for his mouth. It’s something mixed between human and wolf, something that Haytham will only be able to explain as a were and nothing else.

“Shay,” Haytham speaks firmly.

This is only met with a deep, chesty growl that rattles the entire cabin. Haytham is just glad that the crew is gone. Because he wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining this.

Shay jumps forward suddenly and for a moment, all Haytham sees is teeth. But he moves out of the way just in time, feeling claws graze against his shoulder. The loud clack of teeth vibrates against Haytham’s brain as he rushes over to the table. Shay destroys the chair as he lands on it, bits of it going flying. But he doesn’t care for it, he’s already moving Haytham’s way again, claws digging into the wooden floor to gain the space between them.

The amount of force that Shay rushes Haytham as he barges into the table is something that reminds him of a bull. Said table flips over and blocks the only exit, papers and reports flying everywhere that rain down around Shay. Another snarl is spat Haytham’s way and true fear strikes his gut.

Fear that he might have to do something he truly did not want to do tonight.

Shay jumps forward again with every intention of latching himself onto Haytham’s shoulder and tearing off his arm. But Haytham moves before he can think. He ducks and grabs onto Shay’s snout, wrapping his entire arms around and holding tight.

Haytham is thrown about as Shay shakes his head violently, trying to pry this human off of him. This small “victory” is short lived though. Haytham’s grip slips only for a moment, and similar to some raging bull again, Shay throws his head to the side and flings the Grandmaster. Haytham hits the back of the cabin wall with a loud crack. All the wind is crushed out of him and he lands on the floor in a heap.

Shay lands on all fours heavily, shaking the whole ship and prowls over to Haytham. His lips curl up again to show off his fangs, all but dripping saliva as he nears.

Haytham shifts and rolls onto his back so that he’s facing Shay full on. He flicks out his blade, finally bringing up the might to do something. But with how sluggish his mind and body is, he isn’t able to move his arm in time before it’s crushed under one of Shay’s hands. He barks out in pain, not able to retain himself for the moment.

This is how he meets his end then? To his want to not harm someone he loves?

Shay towers over Haytham, his nose becoming mere inches away from his own. Time seems to slow as he looks right into those amber eyes. He stares right back at Haytham and for a moment, he sees Shay. But only for a moment. The effects of the blood moon seem to be something greater than what Shay can break through.

“Shay,” Haytham firmly breathes out finally.

Anyone would find him goddamn crazy right now. They’d be shouting to just kill the thing and be done with it. To fight and lash out or to do anything but be pinned by such a beast. All so this doesn’t happen again. But it’s Shay. He doesn’t think he’d be able to do it. He knows he could, he knows he should, but would he be able to? Now that is a question within itself.

Shay stops his growling and snarling and he just stares at Haytham. The scar over his eye seems more prominent in his were form. One last injury that scarred over before he turned for the first time. Most likely where he was clawed at by Liam, Shay has never truly told him.

Haytham takes a stupid risk and brings his other hand out to Shay’s face. Shay flinches away, but doesn’t move again as Haytham’s hand comes to the side of his large head. The feral look leaves his eyes for a moment again as he lets Haytham touch his cheek. Shay lets go of Haytham’s other arm and quickly, the blade is flicked away.

Shay sniffs him before moving forward ever so slightly. Haytham doesn’t let his guard down, watching this massive form slowly come into his space more so than before. Sniffing him and smelling the fear wafting off him.  

“Shay,” Haytham says again, hoping to get through to the man.

His ribs still hurt and a major headache is coming along. He doesn’t want to be thrown around like that again. Not ever.

But to his name being spoken, Shay huffs. But there’s still a slight crazed look about his eyes. Something that the blood moon is doing to him. Causing him to act out. Some humanity has come back into him, but the blood moon still has its effects.

The next thing he does makes all the sense on his feral behaviour. A clawed hand presses itself onto Haytham’s sore chest and pushes him down onto the floor heavily. Then, his clothes are literally being ripped off him. Ripped apart and thrown away until enough of Haytham is revealed.

A feral rut. That is what the blood moon causes. Something that werewolves can’t control and become insane over.

And all Haytham can do is watch as his heart quickens in his chest. Anticipation prickles at his skin as he watches rows of teeth that were just trying to kill him moments before lower to his crotch. As a hot, thick wet tongue licks a strip over Haytham’s ass, it becomes very, very clear now on what the blood moon does. His suspicions were right.  

But the buzz that washes over Haytham at the odd sensation makes him quickly realise, he’s not all apposed to this. Something so dangerous, so close, yet so arousing. Shay licks another hot strip across Haytham’s ass and up to his balls, leaving behind a thick saliva that feels sticky.

If this will stop Shay from going on a rage in Albany, then so be it. Best keep this act to this room than anywhere else.

Haytham is just lucky that he was able to calm Shay down from harming him to get what he wanted. Any bite from Shay and Haytham would be in the same predicament as him.

Shay licks and laps at Haytham’s ass, using a clawed hand to spread him open for better access. Almost folding the Grandmaster in half and into the floor. The pain in Haytham’s chest melts away at the sensation that overtakes his body at Shay’s tongue. It’s as if Shay can’t get enough of him, tasting his muskiness from today’s work.

This goes on for awhile and Haytham keeps himself in check. All so that he can watch just where Shay’s teeth go. His professionalism is something that does get in the way sometimes.

But all focus is thrown out the window when Shay’s tongue is pushed deeply into his ass all at once. Haytham throws his head back with a deep, grinded groan, his body twitching at the warm, sticky sensation inside of him.

And Shay doesn’t stop. He uses his tongue to lick inside of Haytham, opening his mouth as wide as he can to push as much in. Haytham’s hard cock twitches and bobs with each movement from Shay, precum dripping onto his stomach. Every movement has Haytham panting and moaning noises he never thought he could admit. The bliss that pools over Haytham is something akin to being high.

He can feel Shay’s tongue go as far in as it can get, moving and pressing against the walls of his ass before coming back out. Just to do the same thing over again. Each pass of the tongue hits a bundle of nerve that has Haytham’s breath hitching every time. It’s so warm and Shay breathes heavily, concentrating on his work at hand.

He has never seen Shay’s werewolf form as a means for pleasure or sexual desire. But maybe they should have done this sooner. Just not during a blood moon next time.

Shay removes his tongue, having deemed it being enough. The emptiness Shay leaves behind is something Haytham has never felt such a burning desire to be filled again. But he gets his desire. Shay moves up and over Haytham, revealing the thick cock between the werewolf’s legs.

Haytham swallows thickly as Shay’s big hand hold him down by his shoulders. Painfully pinning him down. All Haytham can do is keep his legs open so that that thing can fit inside of him. Because at this point, he doesn’t think he can stop Shay. Nor does he want to stop.

Shay lines himself up and pushes in a little eagerly. He growls deep in his chest at the warm feeling of Haytham. He dives in deeper, rutting into Haytham bit by bit.

The stretch for Haytham punches the wind out of him instantly. He grips onto Shay’s wrist, not to push him off, but for some kind of support. It hurts. The more of Shay that Haytham takes, the more of the stretch and the fit is painful.

“Sh-ah ah! Shay,” Haytham tries to get through to him.

But it seems the rut of the blood moon has taken a stronger hold than before. Because his rhythm doesn’t stop. He keeps going, panting over the top of Haytham, grunting every now and again. Haytham’s ass is lifted into the air again as Shay gets a better angle to abuse it.

The size of Shay makes Haytham feel like he’s going to split in half. He feels so full. The pain is still there but it begins to feel a little too good, Shay’s saliva helping a lot. With each hard thrust, a moan is pushed out of Haytham as he’s moved up the floor little by little. They keep moving until Haytham’s head hits the base of the bed.

Shay keeps going, his pace quickening to something desperate. Haytham’s entire body feels like it’s on fire, his untouched dick leaking even more than before. Haytham brings a hand to his own cock, hissing at how sensitive he is. He uses his own precum to jerk himself quickly to Shay’s brutal pace. He can feel himself coming close, but he doesn’t know how much longer Shay is going to be at it for. He holds the base of his cock, hoping to hold out until Shay is done with him.

At that thought, Shay goes on for a few more blissful minutes. Haytham gets lost in the pleasure that makes his head a mess. Shay doesn’t let up once. Hitting that spot inside of Haytham that has his head spinning and has him being left breathless every single time. Haytham looses track of time. He gets lost in it all. And he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold out when Shay is finished.

Haytham comes in his stomach, his vision going spotty and black. He doesn’t know if he had his eyes shut or if the orgasm was just that good, but he’ll never know. But his orgasm rips through him like a storm, taking his breath away.

Shay keeps going, fucking him through it and it all becomes a bit too much. Haytham pants and groans as everything becomes sensitive. He can’t even touch his own dick. He holds onto Shay again, just hoping that that were’s stamina dies out soon enough.

Just as Haytham thinks that Shay is never going to stop, the werewolf growls deep in his chest as his movements stutter. He dives his cock deep into Haytham’s ass and fills him up. The hot, sticky sensation that fills Haytham has him catching his breath. It just feels like it keeps going. He can feel Shay’s dick pulsing inside of him, unloading himself until there’s nothing left. Until it’s seeping out of Haytham and onto the floor beneath him.

Haytham has trouble finding air as he falls limp on the floor. Shay slowly takes his softening cock out of him and lest Haytham lay on still. Haytham just hopes that Shay doesn’t need a round two any time soon tonight because this alone, has the more man spent.

[sweetcocopowder]

Day Twenty One: Gentle Sex

Kinktober Masterlist will be posted after October

Synopsis: Two decades without seeing those red sails one would think that Haytham would forget them after awhile. But no one could forget the Morrigan and her Captain. Of course he couldn't forget Shay. It would be blasphemy.

And oh, how has he missed him.

Word Count: 6.3K

Genre: Assassin's Creed

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Warnings: Gentle sex/Feelings/Anal/Fingering/Blowjob

He had messed up with his own son. Yet at the same time it could also be blamed on him for not seeing the bigger picture. His son’s temper is something that really gets under Haytham’s skin and yet he knows where he inherited it from. It’s like looking into a mirror, but he mostly sees his mother in that reflection. It should sadden him, it truly does but at the same time it angers him so. Angers him that he didn’t spend more time with her or even go back. That he didn’t know he had a son until he was full grown.

Yet, he could argue with himself that his mind needed to be truly focused on the Templars. Even thinking the thought only brings Haytham more guilt to his already heavy heart. The only person he can be rightfully angry at though is himself. It’s only his own actions that lead to all of this. He is a Grandmaster after all. He has duties elsewhere. How could he have known anyways.

Maybe in another life time. But not now. What done is done, that river has already been crossed. Maybe he can try and fix what he has with his son. But Connor is very much in his own ways, strong minded to what he believes in. Like himself.

Haytham releases a small sigh at the stressful thought. He rubs his rubs with his thumb and fore finger as a headache can be felt coming along. He truly has gotten himself into a hard place.

The trip back to Boston was a long one, but the familiar streets finally come into view and Haytham makes his way to the Green Dragon along the docks. The sea breeze is familiar, but the city stink is something that is not welcoming. A frown is so deep cut into his features that any passer-by would think that’s his usual resting face. That it’s permanently stuck like that.

That the saying for children, the wind will change, was true.

The locals see him so often around here now that they know not to bother him. They know that he is another grouchy British man that has moved here against his will. And he had, so they’re not wrong there. From past events of sourness to them they know not to make conversation with him. Always on a mission he hears. Always got somewhere to go. Which isn’t wrong. It feels like ever since he stepped foot in America every day has been filled with something.

His frown doesn’t stay for long though. For it’s not the children laughing and playing around a fish stall that gets rid of it. For it’s not the old woman smiling at him with frail eyes that gets him to smile back. Nor is it the two dogs running down the street with two teenage boys.

It’s the tattered red sails with black wolves on them that has his face as wide as a saucepan. His feet are planted to the brick street and he feels his heart squeeze. He hasn’t seen those sails in what feels like a lifetime but he’d know them anywhere.  

He’s back.

The Morrigan sits in the harbour of Boston with all her crew. Scurrying around on deck and unloading cargo with shouts and yelps. From where he stands he can see someone ordering them around. But it’s definitely not him.

Still in awe, Haytham makes his way over to the side of the Morrigan. Zig zagging around her crew and other Boston civilians taking in the old ship. She is an old girl, not one like the newer ships these days with all their fancy looks and what nots. She has seen her days, but her captain has made sure she still shines. He gets to the plank that connects the ship to the harbour and watches the man that is ordering everyone around.

It takes him a moment to realize who he’s staring at. Mister Christopher Gist. All grey and cut clean now. He is sporting a full beard and his hair is much shorter than it once was. That hat he always wore is long forgotten but he wears a pair of specks instead on his nose. When Gist finally sees the Grandmaster down below, he has to do a double take.

“Master Kenway!” He bellows out.

His voice is still the same and despite how long it’s been, Haytham can already tell it’s going to get on his nerves again.

“Mr. Gist!” Haytham calls back. “It is good to see you!”

Gist makes his way down the plank and on dock. He shakes Haytham’s hand, patting his upper arm.

“It been what!? Twenty-one years!?” Gist exclaims loudly.

“What are you doing in Boston?” Haytham asks a little too eagerly.

The first mate gives a short chuckle. “We found the box, sir.”

 Haytham suddenly feels light headed. As if he’s going to float off. They found it. He found it. Haytham doesn’t let it show but he’s more than thrilled. After so many years they’re back. Shay found it.

“Where is the box?” Haytham asks, a little too enthusiastic for his own ears.

“Actually, Shay went to the Green Dragon to find you,” Gist says with another chuckle. “He wanted it to be the first thing as soon as we docked.”

With another shake of their hands and a goodbye, Haytham is off to the Green Dragon leaving Gist on the dock. He had told Shay of the tavern when he had joined. He had asked about other Templar hideouts in case his search took him away from New York. And to think Haytham was just on his way there. If he hadn’t stopped at the Morrigan he could have bumped into Shay sooner.

He would have most likely had a heart attack at the sight of him. The thought of walking casually into the tavern for only to bump into a man he hasn’t seen in two decades.

Haytham’s pace is quick, moving down the street with a skip in his step as soon as the Green Dragon comes into view. He swings the door open a little too aggressively but keeps his composure as his eyes dart around the place.

It takes him a moment to recognise the man, the mental image of young Shay still in his mind. But there he is.

Shay doesn’t wear the red and black Templar colours and has instead swapped out for blue fabrics and a brown leather coat. His temples are beginning to go grey but he still has his hair tide back out of his face. His face has even changed. Into something harder, wiser and calmer.

At the sound of the door swinging open, Shay stares at Haytham with wide eyes. It’s as if time stands still for a moment. The two stare at each other for what feels like ages and everyone in the tavern either thinks too things. These two are two idiots, or they’re going to start throwing fists.

Shay excuses himself from talking to Catherine and meets Haytham halfway. The two stare at each other before Shay engulfs Haytham in a tight hug. Catherine behind him lets out a startled gasp, waiting for Haytham to push this newcomer off. But Haytham smiles as he pats Shay lightly on the back. Shay steps back and looks at the Grandmaster up and down with a wide grin on his own face.

“Master Kenway,” Shay breathes out. “By God, is it good to see you.”

He hadn’t forgotten Shay’s voice. Forgotten the finer details to his face. And Haytham can’t seem to look away.

Haytham has so many things to ask. So many things we wants to tell Shay. He wants to know everything that went on for Shay in these twenty years. He wants to hold onto him and not let go this time. But not here, not when he has an appearance to keep up. Not when a stranger just man handled Haytham Kenway and wasn’t stabbed for it.

“I wish for us to speak more privately, Shay,” Haytham says firmly, reminding the other of where they are.

Shay seems to collect himself and gives a short nod. “Lead the way, sir,” he says with a little bow and his hand gestured outwards.

Wherever he learned that, Haytham is going to kill him for it.

“I have my own place in Boston, we’ll talk further there if you’d like,” Haytham quirks an eyebrow.

Shay nods with a slight bow, his hand gestured outwards towards the door.

“After you,” he smiles warmly.

Haytham has to turn quickly and cover his face with his hat to hide the redness he can feel coming over his cheeks. He will have to admit that Shay has achieved some charm in his time away. He is a completely different man to the cocky, revenge filled one he knew so long ago. Shay follows him out of the tavern and walks by his side.

“How is your wellbeing?” Haytham asks to break the silence.

He’s tense on the inside. Wanting to ask Shay all these questions. But for professional reasons on the street and out in a public eye he needs to keep his stoic appearance.

“I’ve been good, Haytham. My travel has taken me to many places but I’ll wait to tell you the details that shouldn’t be heard to prying ears,” Shay responds with a warm smile.

A gesture that has one coming to Haytham’s own. The rest of the walk to the Grandmaster’s is peaceful and calm. They speak about mundane things. Like the weather or Shay’s sailing. How the Morrigan has kept up with him all these years and how she’s best to retire soon. But Shay doesn’t want to let her go. Doesn’t think he could until he’s in the ground or she’s at the bottom of the sea.

At some point, he had mentioned, he would have loved to passed it down to his children. But children in the future is something far away. The thought of Shay being a father brings something to his chest. Something warm.  

Maybe Shay could be a better father than he has been to Connor.

When they arrive at Haytham’s, the host unlocks his front door and lets Shay in with an outstretched hand. He follows in, watching Shay look around the place with a small sense of awe. He leads the Captain to the living room that sits on the far left corner of his house.

Haytham hangs his own coat and hat on the hook in the hallway, letting Shay look around. They’ve almost fallen into a familiar, comfortable attitude around each other. Even after so many years, this feels, normal.  

Haytham comes to the doorway of the living room, spotting Shay looking closely at his décor.

“Would you like a drink?” He asks.

Shay quickly jerks up, looking away from a model ship on his bookshelf. Almost like a kid being caught red handed with their hand in the biscuit tin.

“Something strong,” Shay answers with a smile. “I’ve realized that drink over seas is somewhat watered down compared to here.”

Haytham nods. “I reckon it’s only because American’s need the harsher stuff to get through the absolute trouble they get themselves in to.”

“I can agree on that.”

Haytham leaves the room to fetch two crystal glasses and his best whiskey. Something he’s been saving for a special occasion like this. It’s still three quarters full and he can’t remember the last time he opened it. Or why he opened it.

He comes back to Shay having discarded his heavy coat, making himself comfortable. But Haytham is able to see that even after all these years, the man has kept himself in check. He almost seems broader in the shoulders and the waist. But nothing on the side of letting oneself go. No, it’s muscle. Something someone could only achieve by being at sea their entire life. Even his once pale face has become sun kissed and reddened at the cheeks.

He sets the two glasses down on the coffee table, focusing on the task at hand and not on Shay. He pours the whiskey before sitting down on the couch opposite of Shay. He picks up his own glass and takes a generous sip out of it.

“Alright, Shay. Report back to me,” Haytham gestures his glass towards the other with amusement in his voice.

Shay begins at the start. From the moment he set sailed a month after he dropped Haytham at New York, to the moment he heard of Haytham Kenway still operating in Boston. The topic of Connor came up. Shay had heard of him from the French Assassins. The small welt of pride that bloomed in Haytham should have been something hideous. But to know that his son’s reputation had reached all that way was truly something to ponder about.

But one thing the is clear. Shay does not know of Connor’s relations to Haytham.

And he doesn’t tell Shay of who Connor is. Keeps that to himself. Why? Why does he feel this need to withhold the information? Maybe, maybe because at the corner of Haytham’s mind it will always be there that Shay came from the Assassins. Was raised in their ways, learned their ways, spoke their ways.

Yet Shay is a Templar. Has done many things for them, for him. But Shay isn’t like himself or like the others. With how much Shay would deny it, the man still walks like one. Still thinks like them in a way. Still uses their weapons even though that thought alone is hypocritical.

Who is Haytham to judge though. His own father, flesh and blood was an assassin. For as much as Haytham knows, he was going to raise him as one as well. All those sword lessons and literature teachers weren’t for nothing. And his own son walks the way his father wanted Haytham to. Could say it’s ironic it skipped a generation.

But all in all, Haytham hasn’t seen Shay in over twenty years. Who is he to know what goes inside Shay’s mind these days. He came back with the box. After twenty years. An entire lifetime spent away searching for one thing because of his own moral code. Because he wanted a safer world. Now, who is Haytham to judge for that.

Despite all of this though, he can’t help the fondness he holds for Shay. The yearning ache that grips his cold heart. And why judge, when the man before him has probably seen more in his life than Haytham. Been places that Haytham has never stepped foot in. Been searching for this blasted box for half his life. For him. All because Haytham asked. All because of duty for the Order.

And here they are. Going grey as wrinkles crack at their once young faces. Crow’s feet now dancing on their cheeks that don’t go away when their faces are placid. A slowness to their motions that come with the ache in the joints that were once so easy to move in youth. No thought of how their daily activities would now venture into their years to form into grunts of pain when they wake up in the morning.

When Shay reveals the box from within his coat, Haytham can’t help the shaky exhale that withers his body. The man holds it out to him and with a gentle touch, Haytham takes it.

It’s lighter than expected. It almost feels fragile. Like it’s going to fall to dust in his hands and blow away at a small breath. But it doesn’t. It stays solid in his hands. It’s almost buzzes against his skin, but Haytham can’t quite put the sensation that’s emitting from the box.

All those years. For this. Shay searched too long for this. But his determination is a strong one Haytham will admit. A sort of, bitterness comes across him suddenly. He squeezes the box a little too tightly that he has to put it down on the table in front of him before he does anything stupid.

Haytham clears his throat. “Well done, Shay,” he says professionally. “I knew I sent the right man.”

“The only man you could.”

Haytham’s dark blue eyes dart up from the box to the hunter with a frown. There’s a cockiness to Shay’s voice that brings an itch to Haytham’s tongue. One that wants to snap, but he finds himself he can’t. There’s too much on his mind he wants to say.

He looks out the window instead and only now realizes just how long they’ve been conversating. The street lamps are on and the night is dark.

“Are you staying on the Morrigan tonight?” Haytham changes the topic. “Or have you booked a room nearby?”

Shay gives a light chuckle that it almost isn’t audible. “To be honest, I truly didn’t get that far, Haytham.”

Before Haytham realizes what he’s saying, he declares out something his heart wants, “I have a spare room here already set up. I think you’ve already spent too much time on your ship. I can only guess you’re sick of it a little.”

This brings a smile to the other man’s face. “I do suppose here would be better than that old ship. I won’t ever get tired of her, but maybe a change of scenery is a must. Thank you, Haytham.”

The Grandmaster stands up from his place and grabs onto the Precursor Box as he does. He looks it over one last time, before holding it out to Shay.

“Keep it with you. Hide it somewhere only you and your cold grave know. I do not care,” Haytham instructs. “Don’t let it in Assassin hands again.”

Shay takes it from him and places it back within his coat. “I’ll take it to my grave then, sir,” he speaks firmly.

That answer alone has a cold edge to it. A promise to death. Like a soft kiss that grows to something more. Something that Haytham knows Shay will keep to.

-

They have dinner out that night. At a small high-class place that only Haytham knows about amongst the others in the Order. He likes to get away here and keep to himself. Away from everything in life.

The fact that he’s sharing it with Shay, no second thought to do so, should mean a lot to the Irishman if he knew it’s significance. But yet again, Haytham doesn’t tell him the minor details. He keeps it to himself, knowing how much it means to him.

They dine but don’t drink. Both of them wanting to remember tonight. They talk about nothing but everything all at once. Of the little stories that Shay didn’t mention in his long report before. Of the minor things he did when the lead for the box was cold. He learns a many of things, how Gist almost died in a storm from here to Europe early in their voyage. How he had lost half of his original crew to a run in with the navy that mistook him for pirates out at sea. But the Morrigan had never fought so furiously that day. Shay thought she would have joined the sea but somehow, through the canon smoke, they survived.

Death has shaken hands with Shay many a times, but yet not taken him. He still breathes and laughs. Still has the privilege to have his hair go grey unlike many others he’s left behind. Same could be said for Haytham.

In this line of work, in the line of the Templars, not many get to see their head of hair go fully grey. Not many can say they lived a good life. Haytham couldn’t lie about that. Neither could Shay. The scar on his face tells the truth.

-

Once home, the hour late, Shay bids Haytham a good night. Haytham stands outside of his own room and watches the other pass him. A tug comes to his chest, knowing that after so long, he’ll have to sleep alone once again. Without even thinking, he reaches out and grabs onto Shay’s hand. He stops dead in his tracks, and he looks straight at Haytham. He waits for him to say something.

“I-“

Before Shay had left, Haytham had known with confidence where they stood with each other. Their private relationship being something of comfort for one another. But now a whole lifetime has passed before them without each other. Would Shay even still want him? All grey and old. A man that��s grown even sterner and crueller over time. Someone that still lies to him even after all these years. Someone that has forgotten the touch of the other, has missed it. Has yearned to hear the other’s voice again, having forgotten that Irish accent but will know who it is when he hears it.

And holding Shay’s hand, he realizes how calloused his palms are. A sailor’s hand. A hand that squeezes his own as Shay comes forward. He looks to the ground, not being able to make eye contact with the other at the moment. Oh, only if the other Templars were here to see their Grandmaster right now. A loss of words and falling apart because of a man.  

“It has been a long time is all,” is all Haytham manages to get out.  

A hand cups his face and raises it so that Haytham can look into the same dark brown eyes he grew so comfortable with. Even after all these years, he’s glad those that his eyes haven’t changed.

“It’s been a lifetime,” Shay almost recites Haytham’s thoughts from before. As if reading the man’s worries.

It’s Haytham that moves forward slowly, hesitating over Shay’s lips before kissing him softly. And the bliss that comes over Haytham, the pure content he feels right now as Shay returns the notion is something similar to floating. He deepens the kiss, needing more. Holding onto the front of Shay’s shirt so that he doesn’t fall forward with how light he becomes in the head.

The kiss is as if picking up a hobby you haven’t done in months. The first few tries you don’t get it, but after the rest it’s like one’s body takes over. Muscle memory kicks in. And kissing Shay now is different yet so similar to all those years ago.  

But he breaks the kiss before he does fall over, inhaling deeply through his nose. He stays close to Shay, breathing in the saltiness the man always seems to hold. That now seems to be part of him with how long he’s been at sea.

“Will you join me in bed?” Haytham asks, his voice all but a whisper.

“I’d love to.”

With their hands still interlocked, Haytham opens the door and leads them inside. The room is large, bigger than the spare room. The bed is big enough for a whole family, but it’s the only thing that Haytham finds himself being able to sleep on. Everything else either too small or he finds himself thrashing too much in his sleep with how vivid his dreams can be some nights. But tonight. Tonight, it is to be shared with another.

Shay brings Haytham in for another kiss with hands on either side of his face, this one much deeper than the last. He backs Haytham up until the backs of his knees hit the bed, their lips and tongues not leaving one another for a moment.

But they have to part for air. And Shay takes this second to begin undressing him. His intention is nothing out of desperation though. He takes his time, dark eyes watching his own finger movement intently so that he doesn’t make a mistake with the buttons or the lacing on Haytham’s clothes.

When Haytham’s top half is thrown behind Shay, he is pushed back to sit on the bed. All so that Shay can undo his boots. It’s like Shay has just fallen back into something long forgotten. How many moments has he thought of Haytham just like Haytham has thought of him? Has he yearned the same? Felt the same ache in his heart?

“You still care too much, Shay,” Haytham murmurs out.

It’s not an insult. No, it’s said with almost a hint of melancholy from a time before. From a conversation they had decades ago in a situation similar to now. And it has Shay smiling.

“I always have,” he replies back as he pulls the last shoe off.

Shay stands straight once more and shuffles off his coat where it thumps on the floor next to Haytham’s. Dark eyes look over Haytham’s frame with a soft smile. Despite being in his fifties now, the man’s body is still one of strength. It may be a bit softer in some areas than Shay remembers, it may be a bit spotter with freckles and age spots but none of those matters. It’s still Haytham.

Shay strips the rest of his clothing, his vest, his shirt and his pants and boots. He is younger than Haytham, so his body hasn’t been touched by age as much as Haytham’s. But there are still a lot of changes. And Haytham can’t help but look over the new scars that litter his body. Some stark white against his already sun kissed skin to some that are pink and ugly.

Not to Haytham though. Haytham reaches out, bringing Shay forward and lets his hands feel over the scars that weren’t there before. He shuffles up the bed so that Shay can lean over him, chasing his lips. The bedding is soft and Haytham almost sinks into it all, loosing himself in it. But Shay finds him.

“After so long, how would you have it tonight, Haytham?” Shay asks softly, his face inches away from Haytham’s.

A million things go through Haytham’s head. So much he would like to do. But one thing does stand clear as day. He would just like to take this slow. He just needs to feel Shay close to him. Wants Shay to take him with something akin to a feeling of bittersweetness.

“I just need you tonight,” Haytham breathes out.

At that, Shay gently kisses him. Softly, like a brush of air before he kisses his cheek, then his chin. He makes his way down Haytham’s neck to his collarbone. Slowly, as if making sure that he gets everything. And each kiss feels like a spark of a fire. Something that feels so foreign yet so wanted at the same time. He hasn’t been worshipped like this since Shay left. He hasn’t had a gentle touch since Shay left. He hasn’t felt pure, unconditional love since the only one that sees him left.

Shay hooks his fingers in Haytham’s pants and pulls them off, throwing them on top of the pile of others. Haytham’s dick is almost fully hard already, all this touching and kissing going straight to him. Shay seems to have always had the effect on him and hasn’t lost it.

Haytham props himself up on his elbows as Shay’s pink lips ghost over his crotch. Shay slithers a hand around his dick, giving Haytham a few slow strokes to bring him to full hardness. And when Shay wraps his mouth around the head of his cock is when Haytham can’t help the shaky exhale that escapes his lips.

Shay only sucks and works at the head of Haytham’s dick all while he softly strokes the rest of him. It may not be enough for some, but in Haytham’s age it’s doing a lot. And he may be grateful that Shay knows this with his own age. He doesn’t think they could do the things they once did from their youth.

In their youth, Shay could easily thrown him onto a table and taken him. One time they had hidden away below deck on the Morrigan and taken each other. Their touch filled with something young and desperate then. As if the moment would slip away from them easily. As if someone would catch them and tell them to bugger off. But now, tonight feels so much different.

Tonight feels like returning to something long lost. Something that has changed yet, it hasn’t at the same time. It’s only grown into something more. Something more mellow but the same amount of love and adoration is there for one another. Nothing has slipped away. Nothing has blown away in the years.

And with that, Shay has Haytham withering and shaking from a simple blowjob. His soft pants is almost music to Shay’s ears, something he’s long missed. He comes off of Haytham’s dick with a string of saliva connecting them. He licks his lips, tasting Haytham on them and wishing the other could as well. He moves up Haytham’s body slowly again, hands running up his side until they stop at his chest.

Then Shay kisses Haytham with his tongue having the full intension of the other tasting himself. It only has Haytham wanting more. Threading his fingers in Shay’s hair and undoing the little band in it, letting his locks fall onto his shoulders. It’s grown long but it’s apparent Shay likes to keep a certain length.

Shay pulls away slowly, letting Haytham come forward in need for more. Haytham finally opens his eyes and looks to Shay with a dazed stare, lost in the heat that coils and buzzes at every fibre of his being.

“Do you keep oil here?” Shay asks the important question quietly.

Haytham exhales a short chuckle. “Over in the draw. Across the room.”

Shay gets up off the bed, leaving Haytham cold where he lays. But the view that Haytham can admire makes up for it. Shay struts across the room to the drawer and opens the top one, peering inside and ruffling around. And Haytham can’t take his eyes off of the other.

The searching man finally finds what he’s after and plucks it out with a small noise a triumph. When Shay turns, he meets the gaze that hasn’t left him since his absence. He walks back with the bottle in hand and shuffles himself back onto the bed between Haytham’s legs.

“Miss me?” Shay jokes.

“Dearly.”

With a pop of the cork in the bottle, Shay pours a small amount into his hand. He doesn’t want to spill a drop onto Haytham’s bedding even though it might get ruined later on. He lathers himself up, then pours a bit more onto his hand again and comes to Haytham’s ass.

Haytham, will be honest with himself, hasn’t done this in a while. He opens his legs a bit more so that Shay can work him easier. He doesn’t realize he’s tensing until a warm hand splays itself on his stomach.

“Breathe, Haytham,” Shay assures. “It’s just me.”

It’s just Shay.

He inhales and relaxes. It may be years, but it’s Shay. Tonight, it’s just them. No one else. No one else knows where Haytham is tonight, nor do they know that Shay is with him. Only the moon can whisper their secrets to the stars but even they won’t tell their stories to the mortals down below.

The first finger slips in easy, but it’s a foreign feeling. Shay works Haytham slowly, waiting for his stomach to relax once again before slipping in a second finger. This has Haytham grunting deep in his throat. His dick twitches slightly as Shay eases him.

“You’re doing great, Haytham,” Shay reassures again.

With such a coy, Haytham would snap. But the small praise goes straight to his gut, almost making him feeling light. In all his years, he never would have thought that such simple words could make him feel such a way. Especially from a particular Irishman.  

When the third finger slips in, a dull painful stretch has him hissing. But Shay takes his time, making sure that he’s able to work Haytham open so that the next step he wants to achieve isn’t as painful. When Haytham is relaxed from the stretch and that the only noises that come from him are soft huffs and deep moans, is when Shay takes out his fingers.

The loss of touch has Haytham almost asking for more. But he holds his tongue, not wanting to be perceived as some needy old man that is severely touch starved. He may of already come off as that, but he doesn’t need it to be said out loud.

Shay pours another lot of oil into his hand and this time, lathers up his own untouched dick. He puts on bit of a display as he doesn’t let his hooded eyes leave Haytham. The hunger inside of him only grows for this man. The want is something dangerous on the verge of desperation. Over two decades without Shay. God, Haytham hasn’t truly realises how long it has been. He’s been dived into his work, focusing on many other things for the Order. Forgetting what day it is at some points or what month.

When Shay deems himself slicked up enough, he lines himself up to Haytham. He doesn’t go right in, not just yet. He waits. He waits for Haytham to become impatient, and he waits for the dark glare to be sent his way. The one that anyone that doesn’t know Haytham like Shay to cower away. But to Shay, he smirks in the face of danger.

“Shay, don’t keep me waiting any longer,” Haytham inquires.

A small pang of guilt suddenly strikes Shay’s gut. One that makes him regret being cocky in this type of situation. He leans down to Haytham and kisses him softly, caressing his lips with his own.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against rosy lips.

Slowly now, slowly he pushes into Haytham and watches as the man’s face scrunches up under him. Haytham’s mouth falling open and brows furrowing. It’s truly a wonder, and Shay takes every moment in.

The pure aching want fills Haytham that isn’t quite satisfied right now. He needs more of Shay. He tries to wrap is legs around Shay’s waist to push more of him, wriggling his hips. But all he is met with is another kiss that distracts him. Haytham holds onto Shay as if he’s going to slip away.

Shay moves his hips slowly, grinding down and pushing more of his dick in slowly. The oil does wonders, letting Shay move with ease. Haytham pulls away from the kiss, having to catch his breath. The feeling of having Shay so close, of having Shay in him, of having the man’s breath on his lips is all too surreal.

He holds onto the Shay, getting lost in everything. The Captain still smells of the ocean despite them being out all night. As if the ocean has attached itself it him, wedged itself into his skin. It will be a sad day to see that ship retired. But Haytham doesn’t think Shay would truly be able to let her up. He’s sailed too long with the Morrigan it would be like saying goodbye to a friend for the last time.

Without even realizing, the simple thought strikes a hard cord in Haytham. A cord that he has spent years not touching nor not even wanting to bring up in conversation.

Haytham exhales shakily and quickly brings a hand to cover his face, feeling the wetness on his palm. It almost shocks him. That these are his own tears. But the tightness in his throat and chest only come forth tenfold. Shay looks to him with wide eyes as a small noise escapes Haytham’s throat, his movements stopping instantly.

He keeps his eyes covered, not wanting Shay to see him like this. But Shay pries his hand off all so that they can look at each other. All watery and teary, Haytham can’t even stand the thought of seeing him like this.

“Oh, Haytham,” Shay breathes the words as if he’s speaking to someone he loves.

And maybe it’s true. And maybe Haytham has just never had anyone speak to him like this. Look at him with such adoration that it has Haytham second guessing everything. All because, only now realizing, he doesn’t know what true love is supposed to look like.

And yet here Shay is. After all these years, he’s here. Still wanting Haytham. He still came back for him. He could have very easily gone off after finding the box. Gone off to never be seen or heard of again. But not Shay. And maybe tonight has restored something long broken inside of Haytham without even realizing it.

Haytham huffs his last and looks to Shay, a stray tear slipping form his eye. Shay wipes it up and then cups his face gently.

“I’m not sending you away again,” Haytham manages to whisper out without his voice shaking.

At this, Shay smiles warmly. Something that makes his brown eyes sparkle. Something that Haytham always liked, even though his eyes are so dark, they seem to shine brighter than anyone else’s. Even after everything he’s seen. After all the fighting and all the death. He still smiles and laughs.  

Shay plants a soft kiss over Haytham’s teary eye. A gesture that hasn’t ever been lent to Haytham before but it’s welcome all the same. The gentleness that Haytham receives from Shay is something he hasn’t received in his entire life. It’s as if tonight is on stand still, this room a moment that will never be forgotten all while the world goes on around them. Never knowing what has gone on under this roof.  

Finally, Shay answers softly. Soft enough that only Haytham can hear and no one else. Not even the moon, not even her stars. Just for Haytham and the moment that holds this room.

[sweetcocopowder]

Day Two: Thigh Riding

2023 Kinktober Masterlist coming after October

Synopsis: Shay and Haytham are on a mission to steal some reports. But Shay pushes a few buttons that has the Grandmaster uncaring of their current situation.

Word Count: 1.2K

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Warnings: Thigh Riding/Slight voyuerism {woops}

Shay hears the voices before Haytham does. Maybe because his senses are sharper than Haytham’s or maybe because the Grandmaster is running is mouth off behind him. Shay stops in his tracks and Haytham runs into him, almost toppling them both over the top of the roof they are currently scaling.

And with being inside an Assassin’s Den, now is not the time to be falling off high places.

Early this morning, Haytham thought it would be a good idea for just the two of them to sneak into this Den. All to retrieve ship routes. Something that Shay could have done by himself, but Haytham wanted to tag along. Haytham knows that he can do it, he’s done this before. But why today? Shay didn’t ask.

Which leaves them here. With Shay having to push Haytham back across the roof to a small closet like spot in which they can hide in. The Grandmaster curses and snaps under his breath but Shay doesn’t bother in paying attention. The last thing Shay wants is to get caught and having to fight all the way to the documents.

The spot is small. Nearly not big enough for one man let along two. Haytham has to lean his back up against the side wall, knees bent and in between Shay’s. All while the Irishman stands at a ninety degree angle over him. Haytham’s hat had been knocked off in the ruckus and Shay doesn’t know where it is. He just hopes it isn’t outside on the building. Cause the only thing that’s hiding the two from the outside world is an old tattered piece of cloth that hangs in front of this tiny shed like closet thing.

Shay stills his breathing and listens to the voices coming closer. He’s guessing two roof guards that are doing their routes, making sure everything is in check. Their conversation is muffled, words folding in on each other until they come closer.

Haytham opens his mouth to make his own comment but Shay quickly slaps a hand over his mouth. If Shay were anyone else, he knows he would be dead right now. Thrown outside and to fend for himself. But the glare that Shay receives is one that he knows he’s going to regret this later.

“-just not sure if I can stay here any longer is all.”

“I know, you have a wife now. Everyone knows.”

The two of them stop on the other side of the roof, most likely where Shay and Haytham just were. They continue their conversation and Haytham huffs from behind the hand still on his face.

Shay takes his hand off Haytham’s mouth with a quiet sorry. He shuffles in his place and tries to make due of how he’s standing. But he ends up sitting down on Haytham’s knees. The Grandmaster grunts as he has to push against the wall so that he doesn’t slip down with Shay following on top of him.

He doesn’t want to meet the stare that he knows Haytham is giving him. He peeps out past the cloth, watching the two guards stand on the edge of the roof talking about their mundane lives. The both of them could sneak up behind them and kill them easy.

“Are you right there?” Haytham hisses in a hush.

“Shh.”

As soon as the sound leaves the Irishman’s mouth, he can feel the glare he’s receiving. The last thing he wants to do is meet it. Shay moves to stand up but Haytham pulls him right back down by his chest straps.

He finally meets the dark eyes of murder that face him. Shay swallows thickly, not moving a muscle. One thing Shay knows is that if Haytham wanted to do something, he would. He wouldn’t care if the entire Den heard them.

“Haytham, we need to get those reports,” Shay tries to argue quietly.

The hand on his chest travels down his stomach to grab at his crotch. A bit painfully at so. A pressure that has Shay hissing. In return -which is something that Shay should have seen coming- Haytham covers his mouth with a hand.

“Those can wait for now,” the Grandmaster speaks darkly.  

He’s pissed Haytham off.

The two guards outside wonder off, their voices disappearing as they move to a different roof. Shay is just glad that they were so involved in their own conversation that they didn’t realize what was going on behind them. Talking about the fellas wife must have been real important.

Haytham kneads Shay’s clothed dick suddenly. And Shay is so glad that the guards are gone because he inhales loudly through his nose. He knows he doesn’t have to worry about anyone outside anymore but the thought still lingers in the back of his head. But it is hard to concentrate when Haytham is looking at him with such a dark sin filled stare.

The hand over his mouth and crotch disappear to only wrap themselves on Shay’s waist. He brings the hunter down fully onto his lap, their legs intertwining so that he’s sitting on only one of Haytham’s thighs. Shay pants as his already half hard cock grinds up against the man below him.

And that is what Haytham wants. He knows the Grandmaster’s game. And every single time, Shay falls for it.

At first, Haytham ushers Shay’s hips forward and grinding his dick against his thigh. The friction has him panting past gritted teeth. Trying his best not to start something they most likely won’t finish until much later.

“Come on, Shay,” Haytham urges on deeply.

And with that, he’s fallen. He’s broken. Shay grinds against Haytham’s thigh as he holds onto his shoulder for support. It’s cramped enough as it is but he’s able to move just enough to get some friction. Haytham watches intensely as Shay moves like a dog in heat.

The buzz that Shay gets lost in has him panting and grunting softly, forgetting where he is. And Haytham guides his hips with each movement, his touch burning hot even through the layers of clothes he has on. Shay can feel himself getting close, and Haytham can see that too.

But, before Shay can get anywhere, he’s stopped. And not by Haytham telling him to, or Haytham holding his hips still. No.

Haytham throws him off and out onto the roof.

Shay falls through the curtain with a thwomp and onto the roof with a loud crash and a grunt. The wind is knocked out of him and he wheezes for air all while trying to be quiet. But it’s a goddamn miracle if someone didn’t hear that. He just hopes those two are still talking about their wives. Shay rolls onto his side as he holds his chest, trying to breathe in a full lung of air.

Haytham steps out onto the roof as if nothing happened. As if he wasn’t just leading someone on with sexual intent. He pats his coat down and peers down his nose at Shay.

“Do get up, Shay. We have reports to steal,” Haytham comments as if bored.

As if Shay isn’t as hard as rock in his own pants right now, all while trying to collect himself and inhale air. Sometimes, Haytham can be a real petty bitch.

“Aye, sir,” he groans but it comes more out as a pathetic wheeze.