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marshmallow--3 · 5 years

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Imagine - going on a supply run with Shaun Hastings.

Written for and with the help of @balladofthesadcat . Thank you so much for all your help! 🥰♥️

You're not sure how you've managed it, but the two of you have successfully kept your relationship a secret from the group. And between how prying the members can be and the confined spaces you often find yourselves calling a base, it's a miracle no one has picked up on the subtle clues. The lingering brush of his fingers against yours whenever he passes you a file, the furtive glances in each other's direction, the softer way Shaun speaks to you in comparison to how he addresses the others.

Saying that, Desmond spends most of his time unconscious with his brain getting picked apart by the Animus, Rebecca has her eyes glued to the screen most hours of the day, and Lucy? You imagine her thoughts resemble a coding screen with how much hacking she does. No, it's probably the last thing on their minds.

But the walls are terribly thin, leaving you with barely enough privacy to steal kisses in a supply cupboard, let alone be as intimate as both of your nightly dreams taunt you with what could be.

As luck would have it, supplies are running low, so Shaun volunteers to head out. Concerned for his safety going out alone, Rebecca asks you to accompany him, dismissing you with a wave when you ask if they'll manage without you. Sighing, you slip a blade into the sheath attached to your boot and chase after Shaun, buckling yourself into the van. You shift your gaze over to him, noting the way he stares straight ahead, tapping his finger on the wheel before registering that you're ready, driving off in silence.

***

Time after time, you notice Shaun glancing in the rear-view mirror, his actions restless, making you hold your breath, your body as still as a statue.

"What is it? Abstergo?"

He doesn't respond, turning the wheel and heading down a dim alleyway, putting you completely on edge.

"Shaun?" You press, growing exasperated.

Shutting off the ignition, he turns to face you, his face catching a slither of moonbeam, his white skin glowing under the night's natural light. Seeing his relaxed expression calms your nerves a little, at least in the sense that you're not being chased by an enemy. But the way his eyes bore into yours, his mouth opening and closing as though waiting on the perfect line to come to him, has you feeling somewhat skittish.

Opting instead to express himself with actions, he cups your face and closes the distance between your lips, clumsily nudging the tip of your nose with his glasses. As the exchange grows more heated, fog steaming up on his lenses, you cling onto your qualms and voice them as his lips brush over your jaw.

"What if the others start to worry?"

Peppering your neck with kisses, he lists, "Traffic was a nightmare." Kiss. "There was a queue at the store." Kiss. "Or maybe," he grazes his teeth over a sensitive spot on your neck, lifting his head to meet your gaze. "I just wanted to spend time with the woman I love."

Your heart thumps in your chest.

"You can't tell them the last one."

"No, but I can tell you."

Half a beat passes before your lips collide in a fury of passion, frantically stealing gulps of air between the smooth rolls of your lips, your tongue tracing his in a carnal dance of appendages.

You somehow communicate the need to move to the back of the van, though you're both loath to do the sensible thing and break the kiss while you move positions. Shaun shrugs his outer jacket off and lies it down on the cold plywood floor, letting you lay down yourself without shivering.

He kicks his shoes and socks off while you tug at his jumper, a fruitless endeavour with everything that's going on. After unzipping your boots with you toeing your socks off thereafter, he unbuckles his belt and shimmies his trousers down to his thighs.

Your fingers fumble with the zip of your jeans, your tongue probing deeper into his mouth with a sultry moan. In lifting your hips, you allow him to tug your pants down your thighs, where he scrunches the fabric and throws it behind him.

Unzipping your hoodie, you draw his attention towards your chest. Sucking on your tongue one final time, he departs your lips and litters kisses down your neck, sucking instead on the hollow of your throat with gentle nibbles that tear mewls from your lips.

He palms your breasts through your tank top, squeezing them boldly. Tugging the flimsy fabric over your bra, which in turn is hiked over your breasts, he exposes them in all their glory, his breath catching - it has been quite a while since he last had the pleasure, his thumb idly tracing a rosy brown nipple as he sighs at the wonderful curves of cleavage. Soft, supple and nothing short of enticing.

His head dips down, his mouth engulfing a nipple and sucking with just enough pressure that it hardens under his care, deliberate laps of his tongue maintaining its erect state. You find yourself squirming from the hot puffs of air that fan over your skin, warming you as a tendril of pleasure rises through your centre.

He discards his briefs while you shuffle your knickers down your legs, feeling it tangle around one ankle. The indulgently sweet smell of your arousal hits the air upon the nudity of your lower half. Fumbling with a pocket in the jacket underneath you, he produces a condom between his nimble fingers. He tears the seam of the packet and rolls the rubber sheath over his cock, bracing his arm by the side of your head and kissing you breathless.

One peek has your body pleasantly trembling; the erotic sight of Shaun half-dressed, looking uncharacteristically disheveled and stroking his cock as he nudges closer to you has you dipping your fingers into your sex, accumulating your arousal on your fingertips to show him.

"Holy hell," he grumbles, bumping his nose against yours and breathing against your lips.

He presses his cock into you, gingerly withdrawing and inching his way inside, should you find the intrusion painful. Fidgeting underneath him, your breath hitches upon feeling his thighs tap yours, his pelvis flush against your mound. Time seems to come to a standstill, the earthy green of his eyes, the soft pink of his lips, the unkempt poof of hair the only things that matter in your world.

For a moment, however brief, there's no danger, no living in hiding, no grumpy coworkers waiting for their damn yoghurts. Just the two of you, ready to submit to the pleasure and lose yourselves to a higher plane of reality.

His thumbs stroke circles at your hips, rocking only fractionally until he's certain you're not in pain. Upon confirming this, he pulls his hips back and experimentally fills you with his full length, driving deep and eliciting a series of whimpers from your touch starved self.

Feeling at ease knowing you're okay, he shifts your thigh to the side so he can grind up against you with passionate snaps of his hips. You soon find yourself babbling his name, your hands bracing the back of the seat above your head.

Between the delectable stretch of his cock and the glorious friction burning along your sensitive walls, you begin to leak juices with every thrust. The intimate way his eyes bore into your soul and read every minor twitch of your lips, every gleam in your eyes, ensuring not a second goes by where you're not in pleasure, simply drives you wild.

Removing his glasses, Shaun buries his face in the crux of your shoulder, shuddering in disbelief of how wonderfully tight you feel. In mewling his name, he huffs several times, snapping his hips into yours and zoning out the sound of the van squeaking under his frenzied thrusts.

Your hands run down the smooth plane of his back, fingers relishing the soft touch of wool before grasping handfuls of warm skin, digging your nails into his ass lightly. You kick your underwear off your ankle, hooking both feet over his legs to trap him close to you.

Your fingers massage his buttocks, timing the kneads with the determined gyrating of his hips. White light begins to flood your vision, shudders rushing through your body when you find yourself keening, "More."

You're not sure what you're asking for exactly, but Shaun kneels upright, his hands sliding to your hips as he pulls you onto each thrust. Between the uneven breaths he emits, the choppy snaps of your hips meeting and the thrilling realisation that everything you're experiencing is real, you find yourself crying out a little louder than you were anticipating, quickly shooting both hands to your mouth as you attempt to muffle the reverberant din of your orgasm.

As your hazy delirium settles, you sense he's not quite there, helping him as best as you can with your limbs numb and tremoring. You will your muscles to squeeze around his length, your nails scratching down his forearms, followed by his stomach.

It seems he has other intentions, licking his thumb as you would turning a page of a book, pressing it to your clit and rubbing calculated circles. Your eyes roll back at the contact, inwardly cursing him for working your body so well, outwardly moaning his name in a way that showers him with unspoken praise.

You soon find yourself teetering on the edge of another orgasm, and with it approaching so soon after your previous one, an ache forms in your stomach, the pressure of a lead-like weight as tight as it is pleasurable.

Shaun soothes you, his British accent low and purring, "Good girl, good girl."

His name is a chant on your lips, your body squirming as you ride out your pleasure. Closing your eyes, you find yourself gripping the floor for dear life, ahhs spilling from your lips as you tighten around him with several jets of come gushing over his cock.

"I'm gonna pull out," he warns, muffling his grunts by biting his lower lip.

After half a dozen or so thrusts, he withdraws his cock and you feel it pulse against your thigh, the pleasant twitching along with his scrunched-up face the only indicators of his orgasm.

You lie beneath him with your forearm draped over your eyes, breathing heavily and blushing at how much you came. Coming down from your high, you register a cold dampness coating your inner thighs, your bare skin adhering to Shaun's jacket under you. He busies himself with disposing of the filled condom, before returning to you with a sweet kiss to the bridge of your nose.

"You look beautiful, my dear."

His comment earns him a playful slap on the chest. You've never been one to take compliments like that, certain you'd blush more if such a thing were possible. After he captures your offending wrist, peppering it with kisses to the point you're writhing and giggling under him, swatting him all the more to free you from his hold, you sigh upon spying the time on his watch.

"We should get back."

The words felt like acid in your mouth. You hadn't wanted to raise it, yearning for just a little more time alone with him, but it certainly isn't fair to have the others worry about your well-being. Shaun seems to share your despair, nodding and stroking your face affectionately, his eyes reflecting the love he feels for you mixed with the dejection in the evening coming to an end. Pressing a final lingering kiss to your lips, he smiles upon parting and brushes his thumb over your cheek dotingly.

"I love you, Y/N. Truly I do, I couldn't imagine my life without you there to make it brighter."

Lumps form in your throat. "I love you too, Shaun. I--" You pause, words failing to come to you.

His eyes light up, dazzling like diamonds, hearing enough from the tone of your voice to know the feeling is entirely mutual. Bumping his nose against yours, he nuzzles you, whispering, "It's okay, I know."

GIF sourced from:

@sassenach-on-the-rocks @katbernoulli @winterwriter8845 @iceboundstar @lcvingvincent @balladofthesadcat @ass-sass-sin-o

#assassin's creed #imagine #self ship #self shipper #shaun hastings #shaun hastings x reader #shaun hastings x y/n #modern assassins #smut #lemon #smutty imagine

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