Assassin's Creed X Reader One-shots

A Little Roleplay (Shay X Reader)

Ugh, I'm sorry about this chapter. I tried writing flirtatious dialogue, but turns out I'm not as good as I would've have like. That's probably why I'm still single (I can't flirt for crap!)

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"I trust the two of you will see that this matter is dealt with?" Setting the quill aside, Haytham looked up sharply, his calculating gaze flicking between the two Templars before him.

"You can count on us, sir," the Assassin turned Templar answered obediently with a nod of determination.

Haytham gave a stiff nod of his own before tightening his lips, his brow crumpling in sudden uncertainty as his attention was drawn to the woman who appeared to be lost in a fantasy of her own. The Grand Master cleared his throat, demanding the attention he expected and deserved.

(Colour) eyes blinked rapidly, extinguishing the fantasy-induced haze. A redness bloomed across your cheeks upon noticing the two highly intimidating men watching you carefully, one in which was currently attempting to mask his amusement, while the other seemed none to please to have been ignored.

"And what be the cause of your distraction today, (Y/N)?" A sigh escaped the Grand Master, he was already regretting asking such a question. He knew all too well the filthy pits your imagination constantly chose to mess about in, and judging by the perverse smirk curling your lips, that's exactly where it had taken you.

"My apologies, Master Kenway," you said without an ounce of sincerity. "It's just...I can never concentrate whilst in the presence of a certain Irish fellow." You met Shay's eye and winked. He returned the gesture, his usual devilish grin spreading across his face.

Haytham rubbed his forehead in mild annoyance, grumbling incoherently beneath his breath. Honestly this sort of behaviour should no longer come as a surprise. Every time you and Shay were together the rest of the world no longer seemed to exist. And yet, somehow, all of your assigned missions have ended in nothing but success. It was strange. How could two people who neglect to pay nearly as much attention as required, excel as they do?

With an arched brow, Haytham watched as you absentmindedly twirled the wedding ring on your finger, your (colour) eyes sparkling while exchanging flirtations with Shay.

Fifteen years. That's how long you and Shay had been together. Hard to imagine being with one person for so many years. Haytham certainly had never been with a woman for so long, and he doubted he ever would. Relationships and the Order were two completely different lifestyles, and a person can only ever strive for one or the other, never both. And yet, incredibly, you and Shay have obtained both. It was a rare thing that Haytham could almost envy. Almost.

He blinked as you began to address him as the professional you claimed to be. "You needn't worry about a thing, Grand Master. Shay and I will handle Delacroix."

"Very well." Haytham gave another stiff nod, picking up his quill once more. "Oh, and the both of you shouldn't need reminding, but when you kill Delacroix, please make sure you do it discreetly. We don't need a repeat of Madrid."

Shay and you bobbed your heads respectively and left the Grand Masters office. Once outside, a pair of arms wrap around your midsection while warm lips claim the exposed flesh of your neck.

"Tell me," he whispered, the words a low heated rumble against your skin. You nuzzle against his roaming lips, not wanting the feeling to end. "What naughty things were you conjuring up in that pretty little head of yours? I hope it involves me."

"Why, Mr Cormac," a breathy giggle escapes your lips. "How could my thoughts not involve such a handsome and strapping young Irish lad such as yourself?" You turn around in his hold, your arms draping lazily over his shoulders.