#coco kinktober 2023

[gococogo]

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.           

[thatwriterrosefics]

Cunnilingus with Johnny "Coco" Cruz x OC (link to fic on ao3)

Day 11 of Kinktober 2023

Summary: Nina and Coco have been on two dates and she has him over to her place for their third place. She tries to impress him with how good of a cook she is. He tries to impress with how good he is at eating pussy.

Word Count: 1964

[flightlessangelwings]

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Just Kiss Like Real People Do 💦 ❤️

Loki x Reader

Right Where We Belong 💦

Destroy You so Beautifully 💦 (President Loki)

Silver Tongues 💦

In My Arms (Over and Over Again) ❤️

Frank Castle x Reader

Eat Dessert First 💦

Glitter and the Guard💦  ❤️

Distractions 💦

You Like That? 💦

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Safe

Prompt request

Lost Souls, Kindred Spirits 💦 (series masterlist, complete)

Clint Barton x Reader

My Hero 💦

Scars

Sam Wilson x Reader

Coming soon

Valkyrie x Reader

Coming soon

Carol Danvers x Reader

Coming soon

Billy Russo x Reader (Not currently writing for this character)

Protect . Chapter 2 . Chapter 3 . Chapter 4💦 . Chapter 5 . Chapter 6  (complete)

Don’t Want to Fall in Love 💦

Rooftop Memories

The Weight of Emptiness / The Echo of Emotions

Whatever You Need 💦

Thinking of You  💦

Give In To You 💦

I Owe What I Am To You

Consequences

I Still Love You, Asshole

Crossed Paths

Confession

Good Enough For You

Thirteenth Doctor x Reader

Shine Through the Dark

My Brave, Kind Human

Jealous 💦

The Challenge 💦

Dreams, Nightmares

What a Human Deserves ❤️

The Consequences of Stealing the Doctor’s Coat 💦

Dhawan!Master x Reader

Bad Guy ❤️

Soft Side

Calm The Rage

The Buzz of Jealousy 💦 ❤️

Fifteenth Doctor x Reader

Coming soon!

Jesper Fahey x Reader

Coming soon

Matthais Helvar x Reader

Coming soon

Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

coming soon

The Darkling x Reader (Not currently writing for this character)

Emotions in the Darkness

Burning Desires 💦

How We Touch, How We Love 💦

No Stranger to the Dark

Tommy Miller (TLOU)

Note- This writer supports Palestine and does not share or support the views of tlou creator. Please interact with tlou critically be be aware of the view of its creator and how they influence the story.

Dive Bar Rockstar 💦 ❤️

Waitress in Distress

Dream (The Sandman)

Back to You

Untitled 💦 (coming soon)

Ardeth Bay (The Mummy)

Coming soon!

Kassandra (Assassins Creed Odyssey)

Coming soon

Eivor (Assassins Creed Valhalla)

Coming soon

Horacio Carrillo x Reader (Narcos)

Coming soon

Benjamin Greene x Reader (Not currently writing for this character)

Fireworks 💦

Quiet Desperation 💦

[gococogo]

Day Fourteen: Face Fucking/Eating Out

Kinktober Masterlist will come after October

Synopsis: With the rare occasion that V and Johnny can touch each other, they make the best of it before it's over.

Word Count: 1.1K

Genre: Cyberpunk 2077

Pairing: Male V/Johnny Silverhand

Warnings: Face fucking/Deep throat/Blow job/Ass eating/Choking

V trembles on the edge of the bed, his arms wrapped around his thighs to keep his legs up high. But that’s all he can focus on right now. The buzz that fogs his mind and body is something he thinks the chip is doing tenfold.

Or maybe it’s just because Johnny is just that damn good with his tongue. The rocker’s hands hold tightly onto his thighs, the feeling of his hands being there seeming so real. V almost forgets he’s just an engram on a chip.

But right now, Johnny’s tongue invading his ass feels too real to not be fake. His hands hold V’s ass open roughly, hard enough to leave two big handprints when he’s done. Whatever that wicked tongue can do, it has V shaking. Physically shaking. All those jokes and fuck arounds the two had, Johnny wasn’t lying. He knows how to use his it that silvered tongued deviled.

V’s dick twitches as Johnny licks up from his ass to his balls. He can’t help the shaky breath that comes from his mouth. And Johnny gives a satisfied hum at that. He lets V’s legs down, but only so he can pin him in place on the bed by his hips. Thumbs dig into the soft part of his waist and it hurts, but it only has V groaning for more.

Johnny glitches suddenly.

The both of them freeze in place, eyes widening as they wait. Wait if this short lived moment of touch is over or if it’s continuing. Johnny squeezes V’s hips, testing to see if they’re still right. And when V hisses in pain as Johnny’s metal arm squeezes a little too hard, the rockstar keeps going.

“Better make the most of this before it’s over,” Johnny cocks a smile.

V grunts as he can feel Johnny’s hot breath over his cock.

“Come on, Johnny,” he almost whines out.

“Don’t be going soft on me now, V. What would they say if someone saw you like this?” Johnny mocks.

At that thought, it should’ve deterred V or even put him off, made him uncomfortable at the thought of someone watching him. Or about to walk in. But it only excites him and Johnny sees the glint in his eyes. He snorts at that, moving up V’s body until they’re face to face, nose to nose, air to air.

“Remind me to try and do this when you’re out on one of your gigs next,” Johnny’s tone is dark.

It’s a promise, not a statement. V swallows thickly at that.

Johnny works his way down V’s body once more, kissing and biting and sucking until he reaches his leaking dick. Warm lips wrap around the head of his cock and V can’t help the small buck of his hips. Johnny bobs his head, flattening his tongue so he can get more of V down his throat.

“You’ve- ah- You’ve obviously had practice,” V groans out.

The rockstar comes off with a wet pop. “I’m just taking note of what everyone else has done to me.”

“What? You’ve never sucked a dick before?”

“Once or twice, was more Kerry’s thing.” Johnny replies deeply.

“You and Kerry?”

“No. But the orgies were fun.”

And somehow, he’s a natural. No, of course he is. He’s Johnny Silverhand. An egotistical prick that will get shit right the first time or not do it again.

V’s hand grip tightly into Johnny’s hair to guide him back down onto his cock. The groan that comes from the rockstar is only encouragement for V to keep going. He uses Johnny’s hair as leverage to push him further down his dick. Slowly at first, testing the waters. But when V doesn’t get a punch to the gut or a bird flipped at him, he continues on.

He moves Johnny slowly, not wanting to hurt him. He can feel his dick hit the back of his throat in which he receives a small choke. Johnny is pulled from V dick’s, but it isn’t the guy receiving the blow job that does it.

“If you’re going to pull my hair and fuck my face,” Johnny snaps roughly, “Don’t treat me like some virgin whore that’s going to go cry to her mummy and question why she got into whoring in the first place.”

That, has V biting in tongue on the many words he wants to counteract Johnny’s insult with.

With a little bit too much anger, V drags Johnny up the bed by his hair. He pushes the rockstar down on his back and proceeds to sit on his chest. How? V doesn’t question it.

His dick touches Johnny’s lips and he can’t help but thrust a little forward to smear his precum over his mouth and cheek. It’s a hot sight V must admit. Having Johnny underneath him, watching him with dark eyes. V pushes his dick into Johnny’s mouth in which he takes it eagerly.

Johnny suddenly grabs V’s ass and pushes him further down his throat, obviously getting testy. The action has V bending over Johnny, holding his hair as the other makes work of his dick. The buzz that rushes through him is paralysing.

He thrusts into Johnny’s mouth, his dick slipping down his throat with ease. The hot wetness is something too real for V’s liking. But in the race to catch his high before all of this ends and another relic attack comes around dwindles the worries.

Johnny squeezes his ass tighter as V abuses his throat, as if urging him on. Using the rocker like his own personal fleshlight. He keeps going at a desperate rate, chasing his own high. His dick slips down Johnny’s throat each time he thrusts him. Johnny’ chokes lightly, the noises coming from him almost disgusting but V can’t get enough. His balls tense up as he grunts with every movement. Until finally, Johnny does something that tips him over the edge.

Johnny pulls V nearly all the way out of his mouth but he sucks at the head. He flicks his tongue under V’s foreskin with a wicked smile. And that, that has him coming in Johnny’s mouth. Even though V cums onto his bed, Johnny’s engram is shown drinking it up nevertheless.

V’s body shakes as he falls onto the bed next to Johnny with a huff. The rockstar breathes heavily as he stares up at the ceiling. He licks his lips and that alone is hot. V reaches out to touch Johnny’s arm.

He can feel his arm for a moment, before it sinks right through, Johnny’s engram flickering blue. Johnny looks to V, a small flicker of disappointment coming to his eyes. He flickers off the bed and over to the window without a word.

“No aftercare or cuddles?” V pokes.

Johnny flicks on his aviators then lights a cigarette from god knows where. He draws slowly and then exhales the smoke. More force of habit at this point that’s followed him into his engram.

“Not my type of thing,” he grumbles back.

V sits up. “You would if you could.”

All he gets back is a little, “Hmph.”

[gococogo]

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.

[gococogo]

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.

[gococogo]

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.

[gococogo]

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.”

[gococogo]

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.

[gococogo]

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.

[gococogo]

✭ Coco's Kinktober 2023 Masterlist ✭

The time had come upon us writers. Where we ROSE to write our deepest fantasies. But, we also provide for those people in mass that awaited this month. Please enjoy what I had bestowed upon you. Like, reblog and replenish your soul with the smut. Amen.

1. Voyeurism - Shaytham

2. Thigh Riding - Shaytham

3. Bath sex - Shaytham

4. Break

5. Break

6. Break

7. Drunk Sex - Shaytham

8. Break

9. Break

10. Priest/Demon - Destiel

11. Vampire/Blood Kink - Shaytham

12. Break

13.  Break

14. Facefucking/Eating out - SilverV

15. Break

16. Break

17. Break

18. Break

19. Break

20. Break

21. Gentle Sex - Shaytham

22. Break

23. Break

24. Break

25. Break

26. Break

27. Break

28. Break

29. Break

30. Break

31. Werewolf - Shaytham

[gococogo]

Update!!

I have one more fic to give for Kinktober. And it won't be posted until halloween since it's another supernatural based one.

But then after that, I want to give a couple more chapters to Childlike Innocence before I take a small break. Just so I have a lil time to myself without having to worry about writing anything for the moment.

Anyways, that is all!!

Coco

[gococogo]

Day 10: Priest/Demon

Kinktober 2023 masterlist will be after October

「Synopsis 」 : Castiel is a priest that has a bad habit of calling upon a certain incubus. It's becoming a pattern that it has the demon, Dean questioning what Cas does outside of the church. But the priest doesn't like sharing is outside life.

「Word count」 : 4.4K

-> Genre: Supernatural Smut

Paring: Demon!Dean Winchester and Priest!Castiel

[Warnings] :Smut/Degrading/hints of dubcon/Demon!Dean/Priest!Cas/Top!Dean/Bottom!Cas/Anal/Choking/Tongue Fucking/Man Handling/Size Kink/Biting/Sadism/Masochism/Blood/nsfw/READ WITH A HINT OF SALT

The symbols are a mess and the chalk breaks in half for the third time. Castiel breathes frantically as he draws the insignias in the circle. He needs to make this deal. It’s the only way to help him. He’s the only one in the church but hopefully not for long. Only the candles and lanterns are lit in the church to give light since the waxing moon outside isn’t giving much tonight.

Castiel is just glad this ritual doesn’t need any specific moon phase or a certain hour of the night or a certain person to do it. Because he knows for a sure that a priest like himself wouldn’t be able to make a lot of rituals for where he stands in the church. For this ritual though, anyone can do it because the demon will take any soul. They don’t care, they don’t meet any requirements to give out your wish, just your soul.

Now see, Castiel has worked his way around this. Never in the demon’s word do they say that they need your soul. Castiel still has the entirety of his soul intact and will keep it like this. He would like to go to heaven when he dies and not some demon’s pet. He knows what lies beyond. But would he ascend for the stuff he has done? Or would he be damned where all the demons and the devil lies in wait. They must find this one big joke, a priest dealing with them more than once.

He finally stands up and looks over his work. He walks over to one of the church chairs and picks up the small jar that has a small soul flittering around inside. Somewhat like a firefly. One would think that souls would be bigger and yes, they do pack a large amount of energy. The source itself is quite small. Doesn’t take much for a demon to go feral over.  

Castiel places the jar in the middle of the circle and steps backwards until he’s out of it. He’s careful where he steps, not wanting to smudge the chalk. He begins speaking an old, forgotten language only known to living demons now. The chalk begins to glow a red, crackling and sparking like live wiring. The soul begins to frantically bump around in the jar. It knows what’s going on.  

A hand reaches out from under the jar and grabs it, black fingers wrapping around it and dragging it into the ground. A chuckle comes from the spot in the circle and Castiel doesn’t let it sway him from his words. He keeps speaking, reciting the lines to allow the demon to cross over. The chalk bursts into flames and Castiel has to step back to not get burnt. The flames all lean and flicker towards the centre of the circle and the priest just hopes that no one calls the fire department. He’s had it done to him once before and it was an embarrassing thing that had happened.

Suddenly, in the centre of the flames rises the demon. The fire licks his structured body but it does not burn him. His light brown hair is short to his head and he doesn’t wear much. As the fire slowly dies down. Castiel is able to see the old scars that line the demon’s body. He’s finally able to stop his reciting and let the ritual finish itself. Let it stabilize so the demon can leave the circle without harm.

Pitch black eyes stare at the priest before they flicker over to more human eyes that are always the same sage green. A smirk comes across his face as he sees who has called upon him. He has dealt with this priest multiple times. He stopped asking a while ago where and how he got his souls. The priest said it was a secret, so the demon never pushed.

“Cas!” The demon calls out. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Dean,” the priest keeps it short.

Dean is a demon that makes deal. But he isn’t any type of crossroads or bargaining demon. He’s an incubus. One that makes deals for a soul. The deal made with something more than blood or a signature. And for some reason, Dean always finds himself in front of this particular priest.

“What do you need tonight?” Dean asks as he places his hands on his hips.

“I need you to erase all evidence of me in the police records,” the priest says with a little haste.

Dean raises his eyebrow at that and begins walking closer Cas. His thin tail flicks from behind him. It’s a cliché demon tail with an arrow like tip on the end. It’s a charcoal black, like the line that runs from his neck down the centre of his back to the tail.

“Oh, so someone has been a naughty boy again?” Dean tsks and lightly pinches Castiel’s chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “What do you do outside of being this priest?”

Castiel looks up Dean’s up and meets his eyes. “That’s for me to know,” he says a little too confidently that lean towards cocky.

That leads to the incubus to raise an eyebrow. “The answer is always the same, Cas. When will I get to know you?” He asks.

“Never,” the priest says bluntly. “This is strictly business.”

Dean doesn’t believe that. He looks the priest up and down, waiting for the punch line. There is none. He sighs and turns around, facing his back to Cas and he lets his tail feel up the priest from the crotch to his chin, flicking him on the nose. The priest stiffens up, blushing bright but never taking his eyes off the demon in front of him.

“If this is strictly business, then you could make this deal with any other incubus. But…” Dean says as he turns back around to the priest, “you always ask for me. I think this is a little more than business, Cas. Don’t you think?”

Dean gets real close to the priest now and sees the reddens that flushes his cheeks. It’s cute. Castiel looks away but it’s very hard when he is nose to nose with a demon. But the look is all Dean needs to tell him everything.

“So, you want me to get rid of all evidence of you in any of the laws hands?” Dean asks, his lips inches away from Castiel’s.

The priest looks back to Dean from under hooded eyes. He slowly brings his hands up to grab onto the demon’s arms. He’s warm. Almost burning to the touch.

“Yes,” Castiel breathes.

The demon’s hands come up Cas’s sides, sending a chill down his back. If Cas has to be honest, he would say he isn’t the best priest in town. All because the seal in the deal is something he always looks forward to. Or dealing with a literal demon would make him the worst priest. That would be a starter.

Dean backs Cas up with a hand on his chest until his calves hit the front pew chair. With a shove, Cas is pushed down onto the bench with a grunt. All without taking his eyes off the demon. Dean looks down at the priest with a sly grin, showing his fangs off. 

“Someone has definitely been a bad boy then,” Dean chuckles lightly to himself.

The name goes straight to Cas’s crotch and he can’t help it. Outside of this Castiel wouldn’t let a single soul know what his true desires are. Not even when he has another in bed, he’s the one in charge. He has to be otherwise he won’t enjoy it. But then there’s Dean. A literal demon that has the priest’s knees turn to jelly every time he summons him.

“Come on,” Cas bites back.

Dean tsks at him with his brows furrowed. “No no, tonight isn’t going to go how you like, dearie. Tonight I want some answers from you if you like it or not,” the demon says playfully.

“What?” Is all Castiel is able to get out before Dean grabs him by the front of his shirt and lifts him up. He swings him around and pushes the priest back into the ritual circle. Castiel trips over his own feet and lands heavily on the floor with a grunt. His ass hurts now and he feels like he’s sprained his right wrist.

This is not what Castiel was expecting tonight. He needs his name wiped now otherwise police are going to be here by morning. He goes to stand up but Dean presses a foot to his throat and the back of his head hits the floor. Castiel grabs onto his leg and tries to lift it off of him but the demon doesn’t budge.

“Get off me,” the priest wheezes out through his teeth.

Dean only shakes his head, “I will when you tell me what kind of person you are. Every time I leave when we have one of our one night stands you always leave me with questions. Where you get your souls so you can keep your own and,” he bends down so he’s still pressing on Castiel’s neck but he can get right into his face, “why you seem to be on the run from the police every time we meet.”

Castiel tries to speak but his windpipe is currently being crushed so his words come out as little rasps and grunts. He hits the demon’s leg but yet again, Dean doesn’t budge. He can’t breathe properly and the grip he has on the demon’s leg starts to slip. Black dots start to come to his vision.

Dean all but watches as Castiel’s face becomes red. Before the priest blacks out, he takes the pressure off of his neck. Castiel takes a large inhale in, gripping on his leg tightly. He breathes deeply, getting air back into his lungs. His chest burns and he coughs and splutters.  

“What the fuck!” Castiel snaps, his voice hoarse.

“I’m curious is all,” Dean replies.

The priest sighs a, “Fine.”

Dean doesn’t move from his spot, knowing damn well that this priest is going to do something if he lets up. He can see it in the dark blue eyes of his that he wants to buck and claw. As much as Dean wants to continue this deal his curiosity has gotten the best of him. This priest isn’t the goody two shoe he makes himself out to be.

“I punish the sinners of my church,” Castiel confesses.

It almost feels like he’s one of his victims in his confessing booth. Dean has heard of priests like this. He never thought that Castiel would be one of them. But now thinking about it he should have seen it coming.

“So, they confess to you their bad shit. You see it as a sin that can’t be forgiven and take it into your own hands, hmm?” Dean sums it out. “Am I right?”

Castiel stares up at him. “I’m committing an act of service for my lord.”

Dean rolls his eyes and takes his foot off the priest’s neck only to press it down onto Castiel’s crotch. He doesn’t step down hard but it’s enough for it to sting and Castiel to hiss. His hands come to grab at Dean again but he stops himself, balling his hands into fists and holding himself tense.

“I never took you for one of those priests,” Dean says with a smirk.

Cas looks up at him, trying to hold himself together but he pants lightly and a sheen of sweat is starting to form on his forehead. He’s hard and he knows Dean can feel it. He’s enjoying this rough housing a little too much for his own liking.

“I’m filled with surprises,” Castiel breathes out. “Now are we going to continue this deal?” He asks a little urgently.

Dean purses his lips and thinks for a moment. It would be a waste not to. He takes his foot off of the priest and takes a step back. The priest already looks a mess and he hasn’t even done anything to him yet. His hair a mess and his shirt sticking to him from the sweat.

“Take your clothes off,” Dean orders down to him.

All while looking up at the demon through his lashes, Castiel hooks his finger into his white collar and takes it off without hesitation. Without it, he looks like an average man in all black. He begins unbuttoning his shirt to reveal an average build. He isn’t built or anything but he’s got a v line that accents his hipbones. After chucking the shirt aside, Dean watches with hungry eyes as the priest begins shuffling off his dress pants. He shucks off his shoes and then he’s able to get his pants off properly.

Castiel is hard and his dick sits between his legs with an eagerness. He lays back on his elbows in the centre of the ritual, waiting for the incubus to make a move. Dean soaks up the sight a little longer before sinking down to Castiel on his hands and knees.

“You’re sloppy at your job. That’s why you’re always coming back here to get me to cover your ass,” Dean smirks into his lightly said words.

The priest’s face screws up. “Even though I told you about what I do doesn’t mean you need to bring it up,” he snaps.

Dean chuckles. “Oh, but I’ve learned something new about my favourite customer,” he smiles as he ventures down Castiel’s body, trailing his fingers down his belly. “It makes you all that much interesting.”

Castiel doesn’t comment on that as he’s too concentrated on the incubus hovering over his dick. But that’s all Dean does, he hovers. He doesn’t touch it or spit on it. He instead grabs the back of Castiel’s thighs and lifts his ass up into the air. It takes him by surprise and he has to plant his back fully on the ground so he’s not folded awkwardly in half and it doesn’t hurt his back.

“You know,” Dean says without taking his eyes off Cas’s ass. It makes the priest feel exposed and he knows the demon is going to talk more about this new found information he just found out. “Knowing you’re not this goody two shoes makes me like you more. I love me a bad boy,” he says.

Before Cas can reply he’s stopped by the sight of a long tongue flicking out of Dean’s mouth. Without a warning, he licks a long hot strip along the priest’s ass. He flinches at how hot and wet it is. The second long lick is a little less surprising than the last but it still has Castiel holding his breath the entire way. Then, Dean dives his tongue into his ass. It draws a shuddering breath out of Cas at the foreign feeling.

They’ve never done anything like this. He didn’t even know that Dean’s tongue could get so long. And it feels like it just keeps going and going as it thrusts into his ass. Dean licks and brings his tongue out to only go in a little bit further than before. It’s hot and wet and thick and Cas quickly finds that he really likes this. His dick is hard and twitch at every new sensation the demon is bringing to him. Dean grips onto his thighs tighter as he buries his nose into the priest’s balls to get that little further into him. He draws back, breathing in deeply before going back in.

Cas can’t help the whine the comes back him. He tries to hold onto something but there’s nothing around him but the ground he can claw at. He finds his eyes drifting up to the ceiling and he gets lost in the hot pleasure that Dean is giving him.

Dean pushes Castiel’s thighs more so that his knees are beside his face. The tongue is pulled all the way out and the priest releases a short exhales at the sudden loss of feeling full. Dean licks a long strip from his ass to his balls to his sensitive dick. A shiver runs down Castiel’s spine. The priest locks his hands behind his knees so that he has something to grab onto as Dean runs another hot strip from ass to dick. The tongue is shoved deep into Castiel’s ass once more making him flinch. He tongues his ass for a little longer, making sure the priest is ready and a panting mess. All Castiel can do is watch as the tongue disappears into him, feeling himself become hot from the wet appendage. He feels full now, but he knows how big Dean is. He knows what Dean is doing right now. The demon normally prepares him with just fingers and a little time. But Dean seems desperate to get him ready for his cock.

When the incubus is satisfied, he pulls his tongue out with a saliva string connecting them. Dean lets go of his thighs but Castiel holds onto his own legs. The demon removes his garments, chucking them to the side. He looks back down at the sight in front of him and can’t help but stare. Castiel is all his. He’s beautiful. Ready for him.                                                                                                                                                                                   

Dean lowers himself over the priest and presses his hip against Castiel’s ass. Castiel lets go of his legs and wraps them around the demon’s waist as he comes face to face Dean. Green eyes stare at plush lips. Dean wants to kiss him but he resists for a moment.

“Do you collect these souls to see me?” Dean asks with a smirk.

Castiel can’t help his face become redder than it is and he wants to looks away. Anywhere but the demon but he can’t look away. He can’t bring himself to.

“What if I do?” The priest asks with his own cockiness.

Dean pulls away slightly, his smile growing and fangs showing. “I’d be flattered,” he chuckles deeply. “But like I said, you’ve been a bad priest. You haven’t been following the acts of your lord, dear Cas. Someone has to punish you for the sins you’ve committed.”

The thought of punishment should waver this moment but it only makes the priest curious and interested. His eagerness must be readable because it brings another smirk to Dean’s face. He grabs onto Castiel’s waist and lines himself up. His cock is thicker than his tongue and Castiel knows from experience that it’s longer as well. And it does take a bit getting use to.

Pushing the head to Castiel’s hole, the priest’s breathing quickens. Dean takes notice but he doesn’t care as he pushes in rather quickly. The feeling is very different to the soft wet tongue. The sting doesn’t hurt, he’s felt far worse but it’s uncomfortable. Yet it grounding. He likes the sting. He likes the fullness that comes with every bit of himself that Dean pushes in. He thrusts in a little bit and comes out all the way only to come back down a little bit further.

Castiel finds himself whining with each thrust forward. He can’t help the noises that are forces from his throat. Dean concentrates on getting all of him into the priest, holding Castiel’s hips so tight that there’s going to be bruises there tomorrow. Castiel quickly gets lost in the pain that slowly brews in his gut, holding onto Dean’s shoulders for support.

There’s an inch that Dean can’t fit in and it frustrates him. He changes his angle slightly, moving forward so he can put his hands on the floor near Castiel’s head. With pushing forward he lifts Castiel’s hips into the air again so he can drive straight down into his ass. He pulls out and slams his hips down, pushing his entire length into the priest. Castiel feels like he’s just had the wind knocked out of him. His mouth is wide open and only a silent groan is heard as he exhales. He shakily inhales in, closing his eyes tightly at the painful throb emitting in his gut. Now, it’s getting a little much.  

Dean stays still for a moment. Feeling Castiel clench around him. Feeling his warmth and listening to him squirm brings a sadistic feeling to him. His hands slithers around the priest’s throat and he holds it there, looking at those pretty blues staring back waiting for his next move. Then he starts squeezing.

Castiel grabs on his arms but doesn’t pull him away or tell him to stop. His face turns up into a grimace but that’s the only indication that Dean gets that he’s uncomfortable. Either Castiel trusts Dean not to snap his neck right now or he’s stupid. Either way it’s both. Dean squeezes a little harder as he pulls his dick out halfway. He watches the priest’s pained expression as he slams back in. Castiel breathes out of his mouth raggedly, a moan cut short as he isn’t getting enough air into his lungs.

Dean quickens his pace, slamming his dick down into the priest with determination. Castiel wheezes with each thrust but it’s getting very hard to breath as Dean keeps pushing down a little harder each time. He finally grabs onto the hands that are holding him in place as he feels himself become light headed. His head swirls as there’s so much happening through his body. Dean notices, coming out of his high and but only squeezes a little bit harder.

Castiel chokes, not being able to draw in breath. He begins panicking as his body goes into flight. But Dean takes his hands off his throat completely before the black dots dancing around the room become bigger. The relief that floods through his body at that first inhale is blissful. It’s very hard for the priest to catch his breath though when he has a demon hitting his prostate with every thrust.

“Dean,” Castiel chokes out, his voice boxed abused.

The demon tsks as he grabs the priest’s wrists and brings them above his head. Dean pushes in dick in further and almost folds Castiel in half again. He stays there for a moment, giving the priest the privilege to catch his breath. The mix of pain and pleasure that washes over Castiel creates a fogginess over his mind that is almost intoxicating. He lays there just taking Dean’s abuse, his half hard dick bobbing against his stomach.

He begins to phase out, drowning himself in the buzz that is slowly taking over his body. But it all changes when Dean comes down and bites hard at Castiel’s nape. This, this the priest reacts to badly. He flails and screams silently as he grabs onto the demon, trying to push him off as he can feel his fangs sink into his flesh. But Dean holds on, claws digging into his arms as he holds Castiel in place.

Dean lets go finally and licks at the bite mark. Without having to look, Castiel knows he’s bleeding. The entire time, Dean had not let up his pace on him. The demon chuckles darkly in his ear before pulling away from the panting priest. Castiel looks up to him through hooded eyes, suddenly not having the energy to do anything else. Blood covers the demon’s mouth and chin and all he does is lick it up.

“You taste sickly sweet, Cas,” Dean purrs out.

All the priest can respond with is a grunt and a groan. He can feel himself coming close but he’s right on the edge. He can’t tip over to seal the deal. He needs to finish it. But the fucking demon above him smile wickedly, knowing what Castiel wants, knowing what he won’t give him.

Dean wraps a hand around his cock, but he doesn’t stroke it gently or firmly. He squeezes the base roughly so that if Castiel does want to come, he can’t. This, this has Castiel breathing heavily, his heart beating loudly in his ears. Dean is going to lengthen this out the best he can.

But Castiel doesn’t have all night. He grabs onto Dean’s wrist and tries to pry it off. But the stubborn demon holds tight, snarling down at him.

“Let me finish this, Dean,” Castiel urges firmly.

“Why should I?” The demon hisses as blood drips from his chin.

“I won’t call upon you next time,” the priest bites back.

Dean’s movement faulters and his eyes widen slightly. A flicker of desperation crosses over the demon’s face. Something along the line of uncertainty. It all turns into a toothy scowl as he lowers himself down to Castiel’s face.

“And why shouldn’t I kill you now so there isn’t a next time?” Dean threatens lowly in his face.

“Because if you do, there won’t be a next time.”

Now Castiel’s seem to hit home. It strikes harder than Dean’s hollow threat. The priest knows far too well that this demon likes this way too much. Likes the idea of fucking a priest on holy ground because he can. Because a priest is letting him. A dirty priest let it be known. Dean finds that humorous and he wouldn’t give that up.

Because this is the best fun he’s had in eons.

He snarls and begins harshly stroking the priest’s dick to the timing of his thrusts. Now he’s on a mission. His head becomes bowed, his tail flicking aggressively behind him as he works Castiel.

And this, this has Castiel panting through his nose and biting his tongue to keep the grunts and groans from escaping his mouth. But Dean’s fingers come to his mouth, prying his jaw open so that all the priest can do his moan out loud. He holds onto Dean as he starts to come close again, his noises becoming louder and louder. It’s very hard not to when each and every time the demon pounds into him it’s straight into his prostate. It feels like his entire gut is on fire at this point.

When Castiel comes, it wracks his entire body. His vision goes black and spotty and his nerves feel like they’re fizzing out like a fire sparkler.

He comes back to Dean coming deep in ass with a growl. His claws dig into his thighs, holding him in his place. The sensation of being filled sends a shiver up Castiel’s spine as whatever cum was left in his dick comes out onto his stomach.

He’s a mess. But the deal is done.

[thatwriterrosefics]

Rose's 2023 Kinktober List

I have done it! I have finished all of my kinktober prompts and this is the official list of what prompts and who they're about each day. These will be posted on my Ao3 which is ThatWriterRose. I will make daily posts with a link to each fic but this post will also have links to each fic as I post them. I hope you all enjoy!

1. Hair Pulling - Jonathan Byers x OC

2. Roleplay - Larissa Weems x OC

3. Hate Sex - Eddie Munson x OC

4. Breeding Kink - Steve Harrington x OC

5. Office Sex - Foggy Nelson x OC

6.  Double Penetration - Jonathan x OC x Argyle

7. Semi-Public - Randy Meeks x OC

8. Face Sitting - Oscar "Spooky" Diaz x OC

9. Sex Toys - Boba Fett x OC

10. Edging - Oberyn Martell x OC

11.  Cunnilingus - Johnny "Coco" Cruz x OC

12. Mutual Masturbation - Robin Buckley x OC

13. Reunion Sex - Adult!Natalie Scatorccio x OC

14. Shower Sex - Stefan Salvatore x OC

15. Anal Sex - Din Djarin x OC

16. Pegging - Gerald of Rivia x OC

17. Fancy Clothes - Yennefer of Vengerberg x OC

18. Taping Sex - Adult! Van Palmer x OC

19. Caught in the Act - Stu Macher x OC

20. Morning Sex - Jango Fett x OC

21. Aftercare - Evelyn Hugo x Celia St. James

22. Car Sex - Eddie Munson x OC

23. Sex Dream - Lottie Mathews x OC

24. Lingerie - Jim Hopper x OC

25. Quickie - Jaskier x OC

26. Corruption Kink - Henry Creel x OC

27. Dacryphilia - Fennec Shand x OC

28. Marking - Jackie Taylor x Shauna Shipman

29. Phone Sex - Argyle x OC

30. Virginity - Ethan Landry x OC

31. Possessive Sex - Steve Harrington x OC

[gococogo]

Coco's Masterlist

「 Navigation 」

Information: Warnings and other information will be listed when you click into the fic. this is just a list and a simple description about said one. Enjoy what I've written!

⋆ Fics will be added here that are coming soon or when they have a schedule. So don't be shy to check up on here every now and again ⋆

Last updated: 19th of March

♡ Kinktober Masterlists ♡

⋆

✾ 2023 Kinktober

: Total, 9 fics

♡ Supernatural Fics ♡

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Series

↳

✾ Playing Couple [Unfinished/Currently being updated]

[Dean and Cas are forced to play as a couple to undergo a job. But sooner than later, the job starts to go sideways and Dean's feeling towards the angel come forth]

⋆

One Shots

↳

✾ Warming Up

[Dean is left alone in the snow and calls upon an angel to warm him up]

✾ Desperation

[Dean gets hit my a mysterious pollen on one of their jobs. Cas is the only one with him and he knows what the pollen does. And the effects hit Dean before they're able to finish and head home]

✾ Destiel Valentine's Day Special

[Castiel has only heard of Valentine's Day from other humans on earth and would like to participate in this celebration with Dean]

♡ Marvel Fics ♡

⋆

One shots

↳

✾Memories

[Steve is worried that Bucky doesn't remember anything but he quickly finds out that the former soldier remembers more than he lets on]

✾ Bucky oneshot

[Bucky decides to wear something different]

♡ Assassin's Creed Fics ♡

⋆

Series

↳

✾ Having Earned More

[Haytham realizes that Shay hasn't been receiving the attention he needs and wants to make sure the former Assassin knows that he is wanted]

✾ Childlike Innocence [Unfinished]

[No older than sixteen, Haytham travels to America with Birch for business. It should be a new experience, something that Haytham should be able to explore out by himself and meet new people. But Birch wants him by his side and to learn of the things he does.

But all Haytham can think of is a boy around his age he met on the docks. A boy called Shay]

✾ Heart of the Sea {Shaytham Titanic Au}

Coming after Childlike Innocence

⋆

Oneshots

↳

✾ In The White Roses

[When Shay doesn't come after a couple of days, Haytham becomes extremely worried. More so than he usually would. And when he finds Shay, hurt and injured, he realizes there may be more than he is letting on]

✾Night of Christmas - Shaytham Christmas Special

[Christmas has rolled around and while Shay is out celebrating, Haytham is brooding. And it's on this night that Shay finds a little understanding on why Haytham doesn't enjoy this time of year]

✾ A New Day for the New Year - Shaytham New Years Special {Kind of a sequel to Night of Christmas}

[Having invited Shay to a New Years party because there's no one else he'd rather be with, he quickly realized they should have stayed home. He can't touch Shay or hold Shay like other couple under the fireworks. Too many eyes, too many people. But Shay makes it work.]

✾ A Fool's Life (Shaytham Fic)

[Shay has come back into Haytham's life after so long, only to send him away to search another artifact. All to push away feelings that aren't permitted in an age of his time. When the time comes that Haytham can express these thoughts he's had, would such a man like Haytham be able to admit them?]

♡ Cyberpunk 2077 Fics - Male!V ♡

⋆

Oneshots

↳

✾ Share Your Toys - SilverV

[V buys something interesting and Johnny isn't all too interested in playing along. All until everything becomes unbearable and he has to show V just how to use it correctly]

✾ Feeling Tense - SilverV

[Johnny realizes that V isn't feeling so good and wants to release some tension in those joints of his. Which is very out of character for a prick like himself.]

⋆⋆⋆

Do not steal, plagiarize, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape or form

[thatwriterrosefics]

Kinktober 2023 List

I am going to be attempting Kinktober. Big emphasis on attempt as I have varying levels of comfort when it comes to writing smut. Sometimes it takes me longer to write than other fic does so I'm going to be attempting to chip away at it over the next two months.

I will not be taking any requests however I do plan to post them on my ao3 account. I will add who each prompt is about as I write them. The order of prompts may change. If you have any prompt suggestions to replace certain ones with my asks are open! Finished Writing 31/31

1. Hair Pulling - Jonathan Byers x OC

2. Roleplay - Larissa Weems x OC

3. Hate Sex - Eddie Munson x OC

4. Breeding Kink - Steve Harrington x OC

5. Office sex - Foggy Nelson x OC

6.  Double Penetration - Jonathan x OC x Argyle

7. Semi-Public - Randy Meeks x OC

8. Face Sitting - Oscar "Spooky" Diaz x OC

9. Sex Toys - Boba Fett x OC

10. Edging - Oberyn Martell x OC

11.  Cunnilingus - Johnny "Coco" Cruz x OC

12. Mutual Masturbation - Robin Buckley x OC

13. Reunion Sex - Adult!Natalie Scatorccio x OC

14. Shower Sex - Stefan Salvatore x OC

15. Anal Sex - Din Djarin x OC

16. Pegging - Gerald of Rivia x OC

17. Fancy Clothes - Yennefer of Vengerberg x OC

18. Taping Sex - Adult! Van Palmer x OC

19. Caught in the Act - Stu Macher x OC

20. Morning Sex - Jango Fett x OC

21. Aftercare - Evelyn Hugo x Celia St. James

22. Car Sex - Eddie Munson x OC

23. Sex Dream - Lottie Mathews x OC

24. Lingerie - Jim Hopper x OC

25. Quickie - Jasiker x OC

26. Corruption Kink - Henry Creel x OC

27. Dacryphilia - Fennec Shand x OC

28. Marking - Jackie Taylor x Shauna Shipman

29. Phone Sex - Argyle (st) x OC

30. Virginity - Ethan Landry x OC

31. Possessive Sex - Steve Harrington x OC