#shay x reader

[pacingdaydreamr]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐲

‧⋆✧˚₊‧⋆.✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆✧˚₊‧⋆.✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆✧˚₊‧⋆.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Shay Cormac x F!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: How would be like to date our beloved captain Cormac?

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 432

‧⋆✧˚₊‧⋆.✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆✧˚₊‧⋆.✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆✧˚₊‧⋆.

♡ Now, let's say you're an assassin and you met Shay while he was still one too;

♡ He was whipped from the moment Hope introduced you to him, following you like a puppy follows it's owner, - "It's for your safety, lass, yer not used to our ways here" - he just wanted to be close to his beloved;

♡ Very protective over you, he couldn't fathom the idea of her being hurt, it was his biggest nightmare (after all, Liam and her were everything he had after the loss of his parents at such a young age);

♡ Also very possessive, even if he was a ladies man before courting you, he's the most loyal partner one could ever dream of and he expects you to be just as loyal to him;

♡ Will spoil you, no matter how little he has, your happiness is his priority, always;

♡ Now, after he was shot from the cliff and the betrayal to the brotherhood?

♡ He became desperate, his biggest nightmare was you leaving him and moving on, finding a new love and forgetting what you two had;

♡ Sure, his loyalty to the order and Haytham was still a priority to him.. but you were still his everything, and he wanted you back;

♡ So imagine his shock when you went after him, scared that he'd kill you, but furious at the fact your colleagues had hid from you that he was alive all this time;

♡ It was a very emotional reunion, to say the least. He became more protective over you, to the point he made sure to stay away from you at times, for your own safety;

♡ If he was a horny man before, oh darling.. good luck. He's even more pent up now, craving you like a man craves air a to breathe all the time;

♡ On that note, he will get you pregnant once he's done dismantling the colonial brotherhood (now how many kids will you two have? depends on you, love);

♡ He's starved for your attention and your affection, he needs you to keep him sane, to keep his demons away;

♡ Gist learned to respect you, even if you are an assassin.. Haytham is a different story, but he now respects you for your loyalty to Shay;

♡ Now, I didn't mention this earlier, but you two got married before he left for Portugal. So he will always take the day of your wedding anniversary off, just to spend it with you, anyway you'd like;

♡ You're everything to this man, please don't break his heart.. He loves you too much to ever think of letting you go.

°˖➴ This work can be seen as a continuation of a drabble I posted before, here

[miraclewritting]

like mentor, like student pt. 1

character : Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, Ezio Auditore, Connor (Ratohnhake:ton) Kenway, Edward Kenway & Desmond Miles,

cw : Mention of blood and wounds, violence, sillyness, you know, a little bit of everything.

+ summary : you're an apprentice under the supervision of your mentor, but they have a platonic love for you. Do they have to deal with you or do you have to deal with them? This is the first of two parts I will be doing on this type of headcanon.

- notes : English is not my native language, so please be patient with me. Also this is my first post about AC, I hope you enjoy these headcanons.

Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad

✒ You're fucked up hahaha

✒ Being his apprentice it's a title everyone would die for, that's means he saw something special in you. Let's pretend he isn't in love with you.

✒ Now, you're under a lot of pressure, every step you take, every move you make, every look, every breath, everything has to be perfect. Being his student does not mean you're safe from your duties and his expectations. Sorry for that.

✒ He doesn't hold back in training; he loves to see how every time you fail, you get back up with even more determination.

✒ He doesn't admit it but he love hear you call him "master". This man only responds to your call even if there are any other asking for his help.

✒ He call you: Dove or novice, depending on how you did the job.

✒ On every mission assigned to him, you with him or vice versa. Literally takes you everywhere, by his side.

✒ The only time he "lets you go" is when he needs information, so gathering it is your fieldwork during missions. But he always find a way to get to you once he's finished his part of the job.

✒ Even if he doesn't want to or can't, you have individual missions to accomplish, but that doesn't stop him. As your mentor, it's his duty to make sure you'll be okay, right?

✒ When he sees you applying everything you've learned on missions, whether it's combat techniques, assassination, or even helping him decipher information, even if he says he didn't ask for your help, he can't help but smile proudly.

✒ "I wasn't wrong about you, little dove".

✒ When you get injured on missions, he simply sees red. He'll take you to the shelter and tend to your wounds, no matter how minor they may be. He can't deal with the idea that he failed to protect you. Once he makes sure you're safe, he'll take care of the rest.

✒ You're going to see him come back with blood in his ropes, obviously is not his blood.

✒ "You should have waited for me, you're still a novice... they could have killed you".

Ezio Auditore

✒ A blessing or a curse?

✒ You're his favorite apprentice, his eyes are always on you, yeah... Better you forget about privacy and personal space.

✒ The good new is that you don't have to deal with him alone, you've Leonardo!! If you want to escape from your mentor, just visit his house, he'll be happy to help you.

✒ But you can hide from him all the time, he'll find you any time soon, he always does.

✒ He loves to call you: "Cuore mio" (my heart), if you did a great job, but if you fucked up all the work, you will be called "cucciolo" (puppy).

✒ As much as he wants to, he knows perfectly well that he cannot accompany you on all your missions and vice versa, which is why you two always promise each other to return safe and sound.

✒ When you go on missions, he's by your side like a magnet.

✒ Watching you use everything you learned, make him smile satisfied, cause that mean you will be fine, he cannot afford to lose anyone else.

✒ "Excellent job, Cuore mio, you always exceed my expectations".

✒ "This time you screwed up, like the cucciolo you're".

✒ Lord have mercy on anyone who hurts you, cause that person don't will see the light again. As I said before, he doesn't want to lose anyone else, if he sees you injured, he would go mad. It doesn't care if the wound is minor or not, he wants you safe and sound like right fucking now.

✒ Be for sure that the blood will be spilled wouldn't come from him.

✒ "You've to be more careful, I can't protect you all the time, cuore mio"

Connor (Ratonhnake:ton) Kenway

✒ Bro... How did you manage to gain his trust?

✒ A lot of training in the forest, he'll teach you about hunting, camouflage, how to survive with limited resources, and most importantly, how to respect nature and connect with it.

✒ He'll also teach you everything he knows about boats.

✒ If you ask him to teach you his native language, at first he'll hesitate to do so, but if you use it as a code between yourselves, it is the perfect excuse to teach you something about his people and the place he come from.

✒ When he talks to Achilles about you, he calls you "the fawn". Never calls you like that when you're with him.

✒ "So you're the baby deer Connor adopted as his student".

✒ "I'm what?"

✒ "Don't listen to him..."

✒ Stay. Away. From. His. Father. This was the first rule he gave to you. Charles Lee already killed his mother. You're very important to him; the last thing he wants is to lose you to a templar like his father.

✒ When you go on missions, he doesn't interfere in your tasks, just like birds, he wants you to learn to fly by your own. Only interferes when he sees that you're in serious danger.

✒ You were gathering information when you were ambushed by templars and ended up hurt. Thanks to the lessons of your mentor, you were able to escape alive.

✒ While your wounds are being treated, all he needs to know is what those templars looked like. He'll finish the mission for you, and with a couple of lives too.

✒ "You're not ready to go on missions alone yet; the world is still too dangerous for you...".

Edward Kenway

✒ I'm so sorry for you.

✒ I'm not going to say he'll teach you about drinks, fights clubs and how to charm someone.

✒ He's knows more than you can imagine. Your training varies between the islands and the Jackdaw.

✒ You've to learn everything about the damn ship, cause you'll live in there all the time. Of course he helps you if you need it, but he prefers that you learn to communicate with the ship on your own.

✒ You must learn each island like the back of your hand. And he'll make sure you know how to get back to the port.

✒ So... Yeah, you'll have to memorize all the maps.

✒ But the most important thing he will teach you is to be loyal to your convictions and hold on to your dreams.

✒ The rest of the crew nicknamed you “the compass.” Because ever since Captain Edward took you under his wing, they noticed that his mood improved, and also because, no matter how or when, he always manages to find you.

✒ He calls you: "Gold coin". Why? Because you are worth as much as or more than a Spanish doubloon. Too much sugar captain.

✒ But when you don't finish your duties, or you fucked up, he calls you "Landlubber", sorry not sorry.

✒ No one would dare harm the Jackdaw captain's student, but at the same time, you are a high-value target for capturing the assassin pirate.

✒ And those who try to kidnap you, may the Lord have mercy on their souls, because the captain will have no problem reducing every island and ship to ashes in order to find you.

✒ "You understand now why I call you my golden coin?"

Desmond Miles

✒ More than a mentor, he would be an apprentice like you. You learn from each other, even though he knows a little more thanks to the memories of his ancestors.

✒ You train together.

✒ In missions, you compete to see who reaches the target first.

✒ He just call you by your name.

✒ Please, bother Shaun with him.

✒ Compliments here and there.

✒ "Of course you can't, you're a novice"

✒ "You're a novice too. Just because you've unlocked skills through your ancestors' memories doesn't make you a master!"

✒ Speaking of memories, if you are his “apprentice,” it's because you didn't see him as crazy for the bleeding effect.

✒ He teases you because you worry every time he has to enter the animus, but deep down he really appreciates that you pay attention to him during the immersion and help him deal with the bleeding hallucinations.

✒ The first time you came back injured from a mission, it was a reality check for him. So from that moment on, it's normal that on missions, he's the one who volunteers to face any danger first.

✒ This man is capable of sacrifice himself for your safety (just remember the games). He'll not hesitate to rush to your rescue, help you if you are injured, or kill the person responsible for such misfortune.

✒ "You'll drive crazy (Y/N)... I fucking swear to you, If you go alone again, I'll kill you with my own hands"

I'm just going back to my hyperfixations and it feels so good.

Remember that you can send me requests, questions, etc. I will be happy to respond.

[demigoddessqueens]

[cosy]🫂 with our favorite irish templar please!!🫶🏻

Of course 😉

VALENTINES DAY

Runs hot like a furnace so you’re fire sure going to be warmed up

This big lovable Irish hunk can be super affectionate behind closed doors

What’s a good cuddle without makeouts? 😉

Man’s kisses you like he is FAMISHED and needs AIR

Side cuddles/spooning are his personal favorite

Other favorites can be him laying on top of you like a weighted blanket or you scooped onto his chest

Even if you think it’s time to get up, no you’re not! Just relax and surrender to Shay instead

[kiatheinsomniac]

❝contains: shay cormac❞ ✩ — fan favourite ♡ — contains smut

ᯓ★ 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬:

the precursor scholar

ᯓ★ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬:

reuniting with his daughter! reader

what he calls his s/o

first kiss

reacting to you being hurt

finding out you have a hidden tattoo

body preferences for his s/o

his s/o is really good at giving massages

his type in a s/o

he wakes up and finds his s/o in his robes

how he reacts to having a sleepy s/o

when his s/o has a scar with a funny story

his s/o is hispanic/latina

his s/o has a nightmare

ᯓ★ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 / 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 / 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬:

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞 [archived] my very old oneshots from my pre-tumblr days

⊹₊ liked it? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ comms. ∘ taglist ∘ follow/reblog

[ridingtorohan]

𓇻 ft. shay cormac x assassin recruit gn reader 𓇻 warnings! minor spoilers for AC Rogue. alcohol consumption + minor injury. 𓇻 au. reader is Hope and Liam's newest addition to the Brotherhood. Unfortunately, you've just learned about Shay's involvement... long after you've already met him. 𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks! ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎read on ao3! - masterlist - join the taglist!

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ───※ ·❆· ※───

"Looks like you've got a right shiner this time."

It's a voice you recognize, even through the thick of the fog. With bottle of brandy in hand, opening to your bottom lip, you've managed to cool the swell of your ego better than you have your bruise. Tongue darts out, pushing at your upper lip.

His glove rests to your cheekbone, index finger trailing softly over tender skin. Never tender enough because you flinch instinctively, expression pulling tighter. Guarded was never a flattering expression on Shay and it certainly wasn't now. Nose wrinkling, you incline your head away, the cold now freshly stinging.

Even though it's been a few hours, the tenderness hasn't gone down, still bitter and sitting coloured beneath the flush of your skin. At least you've managed the swelling some. The ghost of Shay's fingers on your skin lingers. You turn away, nursing the bottle with another sip. With a low, wanting creak of wood, the saloon's deck groans beneath Shay's weight as he shifts, back turned towards the banister, eyes always on you. Elbows resting over the rails, fresh snow lines the roots of his dark hair, skin still unbothered by the cold. So he's the one you heard step out after you.

"Did Hope give it to ye?" He asked, voice low and careful, eyes still impossibly dark, even when the warm tavern light dances over his features. Your mouth twists, sour line worrying into the skin.

"Liam."

"Ah." Then, "Well, he's always been a right git anyhow."

Looking at him like this, an air of familiarity drifting between you two, it almost tempers the sorrow and grief that still echoes in your bones. The insisting song of rage and injustice. Your fingers curl tighter around the bottle- and you see it too. How Shay's eyes don't even dart away but a barely perceptible twitch. Always watching each movement. A biting scoff rises in your throat before you can stop it.

For everything that Hope and Liam had trained you for, for all the burdens you bore, memories and lessons drilled into your head- this was not how you thought it would go.

Because every scary story told to you, every drill and hasty explanation- it was all because of him. Every bruise and aching joint- every nasty remark and lessons forced well past their dues. Even Achilles, as senile as he seemed, remarked upon the force the Brotherhood trained you.

All to avenge ghosts of Assassins you didn't know, never had a chance to know. All for a Brotherhood that had been tarnished before you joined.

You were meant to replace Shay, you realize that now. A bitter truth that had come to a head earlier that night, when Liam saw how you held your blades. Accosted you for it, demanding where you learned it from. 'From Shay', you had wanted to say, because it had been the truth. Then the rest of it followed, with Hope pleading with you to leave for the night while everyone cooled down. While they cooled down.

Looking back, you should have known better than to accept some strange man's friendly banters in taverns. Known better than to walk his boat, learning its knots better than you learned your knives.

It makes sense. Shay befriended you to sniff out the Assassin's plans. It made sense. Just as it made sense that Liam tried building you into a better tool, trying to outpace the losses that the Brotherhood had suffered.

'It's not fair.'

You think how his hands felt on your sides, careful in his guidance. Teaching you with a far greater patience than Liam had, with far kinder methods than Hope's. You had learned better under Shay- and somehow, that made it all worse, stinging more than the betrayal did.

"I hate you," you tell him. Shay tilts his head, little more than an acknowledgement. Eyes studying you, judging your reaction. Fog puffs in front of his face with his slow exhale. The wind blows it back, dusting across dark eyes before disappearing into the night.

"I know."

Still, even though you know, even though he knows, neither of you move. It's just the slow tilt of the bottle against your lips, burning motion of liquor down your throat. Cold seeping through your clothes, always too thin, never durable enough for the winter. Something that Shay had tried to correct you on but Kesegowaase didn't care for. Always too busy for your innate questions.

You want to hate Shay for everything. Pin it all on him. It'd be the easiest way. Give in to what your mentors had been trying to drill into your head: enemy, enemy, enemy.

Glass presses to your lips again. Shay's fingers ghost over yours, leather pressing light to exposed fingers. A grip that remains solid - but not insistent... and with the patience of a man that wouldn't exist in the Shay that the Brotherhood knew.

But he lets you take another drink anyway. You weren't a lightweight. Shay had made sure of that.

"Are you going to kill me?" You decide on saying when the fire has tempered in your throat. All that's left is the chill in your eyes, the nip of frost and frozen winds on your cheeks.

His fingers remain on the bottle and with a light tug, you concede, letting him bring it to his own lips. Cleanshaven, unlike the scruffy remnants that you had been sworn to. In all the ways that matter, he's unlike the man you've been told about. But you can see where the threat lies, the careful way he tilts his shoulders, languid but prepared. That part of the stories are true.

"Only if our blades cross," Shay responds, swallow audible, eyes dark as he peers at you over the neck of the bottle. He passes it to you, fingers brushing over yours.

Fingers connect. You try not to memorize how they feel.

"They'll order me to kill you," you decide to say.

Shay blinks, then blinks again when the snow lingers on his lashes. "Aye. And I won't let you." You scoff bitterly against the bottle. You both have roles to play. You just wish yours wasn't this.

You turn your eyes away, skimming over the balcony, out into the rolling hills of snow. More powder falls from the sky, dusting across your shoulders, frozen kisses upon cold-flushed skin. It'd be easy, you know, for Shay to just reach over and slide his blade into your neck. Nobody would hear you. Even with gold light dusting over the white expanse ahead, there's still dark shadows. You're both still isolated.

The music in the other room sounds so far away.

He doesn't move and you get to take another drink.

You think, then, that this isn't all there is. That there's more to the man that you were told about. That words uttered with hate or hellfire don't amount to the hours you've spent by his side, listening to some bawdy tale that Gist told him.

Then, in the same breath, you think: he doesn't have to kill me and I don't have to kill him.

Then, in another: what if there was another way?

Because for all the assassins are, good teachers aren't one of them. That you still swore to protect the innocent and your blade hasn't known flesh. In all these moments, caught between the Homestead and someone you had thought you had known, there exists things that you don't know. Impossibly, that there might be kindness beyond this rage and suffering that everyone has been dealt.

Again, in your mind's eye, you feel the shadow of Shay's gloves on your arms and waist, correcting your stance. Think of Achilles' words, heated and grave. Of Hope's flattering gait as she leads you through her warehouse.

"Shay, what-" You turn, throat tight, shadows and aches lingering in your mind still. There's nothing there, the impressions of his boots filling with the drifting of snow. Only gloves left on the railing, cuffs rimmed with fur. Still warm, even as you press chapped and shaking fingers inside, leather cushioning your palms. Because this is who Shay is, always watching out for you.

The next sip of the bottle goes down tasteless, no longer satisfying. The despair doesn't run as hot in your blood anymore, though the sense of betrayal lingers. Except now you wonder, just who exactly you feel betrayed by.

[bonesxbows]

Windy Old Weather (Shay Cormac x Reader)

Masterlist

A severe storm catches you and Shay off guard and you're forced to face your fears. Luckily he's there to keep you safe and comfort you through your anxiety.

(WARNINGS) - panic attack/anxiety attack behaviors described - thunderstorms - fear of thunderstorms

We recently had some pretty bad storms where I live and they scared the fuck out of me, I ended up having one of the worst panic attacks I've ever experienced. Me and my family are all okay but it was still hella scary, so I decided to write something about it. It took a couple of tries to get it right and I'm still not completely satisfied with it, but it's good enough for what I wanted it to be. Hopefully, it can help someone else who shares my fears. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated :)

Banners by @strangergraphics

Your feet slapped against the wet wooden boards of the docks outside of Fort Arsenal, rain thrashing around you and the wind screaming in your ears. Shay was close behind you, using a hand to shield his face from the assault of water being thrown at him, otherwise it was impossible to keep his eyes forward. He placed a hand on your back, urging you to keep moving as he ushered you towards the safety of his home. The rest of the crew would find their own shelter in the outer buildings, his main concern was you right now. There was no time to secure the Morrigan besides dropping anchor and tying one of her mooring lines to the dock. The storm had shown up abruptly, out of nowhere turning the once blue sky into an abysmal darkness, the rain and wind turning visibility to nothing. Shay counted his blessings that they hadn’t been that far from the Fort when the sky had turned sour, though he guessed his self-made luck had something to do with it. 

The two of you ran across the yard as fast as your legs could carry you, making it to the front door of the house just as a crack of lightning rang throughout the sky. You stood there panting and dripping water as Shay closed the door behind him. He moved over to the fireplace, tossing a few logs in and starting a spark. A warm orange glow soon filled the house, causing you to inch closer towards the heat, the cold being chased from your bones slowly as the warmth seeped in instead. Shay let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, he could finally relax a little and let down his guard now that the two of you were somewhere safe and warm. 

He turned to you and placed an arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you closer towards the fire. You had wrapped your arms around yourself, partly from the cold and partly to calm yourself down. You leaned into Shay, relishing his touch and body heat even though his clothes were still soaked. You began to shake, your teeth chattering. 

“Is the fire not warm enough, love?” he asked you, turning you to face him so he could rub his hands up and down your arms in an attempt to warm you up more.

“No Shay, it's alright. Thank you,” you told him, still shaking despite feeling the warmth radiating into your clothes and skin. Another boom of thunder and lightning shook the sky, illuminating the window panes with an eerie blue light. It made you jump and you started to panic uncontrollably, your breaths coming out shallow and fast-paced. Trying to get your heart rate to slow down was becoming impossible. It didn't take Shay more than a few seconds to figure out what was wrong. 

“Is it the storm? Does it scare you?” he asked. But before you could answer the two of you heard a loud splintering crack resound outside. You both turned to peek out the window towards the sound. One of the trees in the courtyard now lay sliced in two, its top now nothing more than a bundle of branches on the ground, its stump a ragged knife pointed up towards the sky. You instinctively covered your mouth with a hand to stifle a cry, though that didn’t stop your eyes from overflowing as tears began to flood your face. You turned back around and rushed into Shay’s arms, burying your head into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you firmly against him. The rain had caused his usual comforting smell to turn into a scent of wet gunpowder and spoiled whiskey but you didn’t mind. You were too frightened to care. 

“It’s just a storm, love. You’re okay,” he told you, running his fingers through your still-wet hair. 

“Make it stop Shay.” you cried into his chest, your voice slightly muffled from the layers of leather. You pawed at the back of his jacket, trying to find something, anything, to ground yourself with. 

“I’m right here. You’re safe, I swear. I won’t let anything happen to you.” he reassured you, though you stayed clinging to him. 

At some point he scooped you up into his arms, picking you up and carrying you to an armchair near the still roaring fireplace. He held you in his lap, letting you nestle your head in between his neck and the collar of his jacket. Eventually, the wind stopped howling and you stopped shaking but Shay never made a move to let go of you. He could feel your breath on his skin, your breathing slowly but surely returning to normal, as he continued to rake his hands through your hair soothingly. 

“Sorry…” you whispered into his ear, a little embarrassed that a storm had spooked you so easily. You had faced greater threats by Shay’s side and come out on top, yet one little storm had turned you into a sniveling childish mess. You had always had a fear of storms but living aboard the Morrigan didn’t leave much room for silly fears. But the abruptness of this one had startled you, unburying your anxiety that you had spent years covering up in a matter of minutes. 

“It’s alright, love. We’re all scared of something. Next time a storm comes we won’t be caught off guard like that. I’ll protect you.” he kept his voice low and soft, his accent coating his words like molasses. You truly did believe him. Now that he was aware of your fears he made a mental note to steer clear of situations that would spark your panic attacks. You still felt ashamed but you knew Shay would never belittle you, even over a fear of thunderstorms. When one of his hands found its way to your chin you let him guide your face out of the crook of his neck to where he could see you. You looked at him and there was a small smile on his lips, his puppy dog-like brown eyes gleaming with unconditional love. He used the pad of his thumb to gently wipe away any leftover tears under your eyes, placing a soft kiss on your forehead afterward. You couldn't help but return his smile with one of your own. 

[carissimipaixao]

For the Christmas prompts- could please I get protection with Shay Cormac? Happy holidays!! Thank youuu!!

─ PROTECTION

published on: january 25, 2023 requested by: @littlemisscare-all pairing: shay cormac & reader word count: 800+ note: submitted during the christmas inbox!

Since the very first moment that you met Shay Cormac, your life changed.

You often assisted the Finnegans’ — your neighbors — and it was during one of those days that their son’s boss and his men dragged a body inside, which you initially thought to be more dead than alive, upon spotting the blood and ugly bruise on the stranger’s head, along with a long cut from his forehead to below his right eye.

From then on, the list of tasks and chores that you did around the house grew ever so slightly to accommodate the stranger, to help him heal and get better as soon as possible — as it was requested by the Colonel. You did not know why he brought a wounded sailor or soldier to the house of two average citizens with little to no connection to the Royal Navy or His Majesty King George II, and you did find it confusing and odd.

When the house was attacked by a bunch of gang members, pushing Barry onto the floor, breaking the dishes and terrifying Cassidy. Even when they were chased away, after receiving a beating from your wounded patient, the threats that they left behind crawled inside your head and burned fear into your heart. Cassidy believed that it would be the safest if you were to remain with them, but you thought otherwise. You had never considered yourself to be the bravest soul, and thus, you ran from the danger.

But, you could never kill the paranoia and the dread. Everywhere you went, it seemed like the eyes of the gangs in New York followed your every move, watched you as you slept. Little by little, you thought yourself to be going insane.

Then, it happened — proving your suspicions.

On a nightly walk to your house, after handing Cassidy the groceries that the elderly couple needed inside their home for the following morning, you were stopped by a familiar face, whose nose had been crooked and broken since that fateful day. The man gave you a nasty grin, lips curled up like a wolf, and, pulled by your wrist by a strong grip, the man took you towards the docks. I hope you like swimming, miss, he had told you. Because that’s the last thing you’ll do.

A gag around your mouth and wrists bound together, you found yourself inside a ship — the name Serenity engraved on the back — and tossed inside a storage room. You heard the whispers and laughter as you walked on board, as those men cloaked in yellow and white spoke of your doom. She’s such a pretty thing. It’ll be a shame to toss her into the sea!

Hours have passed since the ship left the docks of New York. Since then, you have begun to pray to a higher being, someone who could save you from those monsters that had decided to kill you. For what purpose? You cannot help, however, but think that they are trying to get revenge through you, for their losses and the humiliation. When the ship shakes aggressively, the shouts begin and the bell rings, you close your eyes to stem the flow of tears.

You are certain that your death is coming. Then, when everything begins to die down, the clash of swords and the sound of gunshots decreasing, the door to the storage room rattles and you tremble. 

After a few more attempts, the door is ultimately kicked open, thus breaking the lock. Amongst the smoke and death that lies on the other side, a tall silhouette stands in the doorway, sword and dagger unsheathed. Half a beat of silence, and the figure approaches you as it puts the sword away. Your name comes out of your savior in a breathless whisper, as if suddenly frightened.

Shay kneels down in front of you, eyes frantic as they look over your face and body — searching for any wound. His eyes darken at the sight of your damp skin and red eyes, and he swiftly cuts the rope around your wrists with his dagger, before putting it away. ‘You’re safe now,’ he tells you as he takes the gag from your mouth. ‘Let’s get you out of here, lass.’

‘Shay,’ you call for him. You find yourself incapable, however, of getting up, tucked as you were in the corner of the room, arms around your knees. You feel your eyes water once more. You feel guilty for his troubles, but, most importantly, you wonder how he found you. It feels as if your roles have been reversed; in the beginning, you took care of him and made sure he got to his feet. It was a rocky journey, but, inevitably, Shay was out of the Finnegans’ house. And, now, he has saved you, rescued you from a certain death by the hands of the same men that had endangered you months ago.

Something shifts in your chest—no, you conclude. It’s only growing. You have often shoved the attraction for the Irishman, thinking of it as improper while you were tending to his wounds. There isn’t anything wrong if you acknowledge those feelings now, is there? You don’t know where his heart lies, but you are certain of yours.

His stare softens. Gently, he speaks. ‘Nobody will hurt you now. I won’t let them.’

And, since that moment, everything changes.

[bullet-prooflove]

Leslie Shay Masterlist

Leslie Shay x Reader

- ‘Maybe Next Time I’ll Buy You Dinner First’ - You and Leslie spend the night together.

- ‘Because Best Friends Show Each Other Their Tits All The Time’ - You and Leslie discuss the morning after.

- Peppermint Candy - You tease Leslie with a candy cane.

Cause you're keepin' me up all night

Leslie’s NSFW Dirty Alphabet:

- Dominance