Assassin's Creed II: Connections

Chapter XV

EZIO SMUT SHALL BE ACHIEVED SOON. MAYBE. For now, enjoy the Reader x Ezio ~

amore - love, mia cara - my dear, pervertito - pervert

.......

"So, Ezio, what have you in store for me today?" You said, crossing your arms with a smile. You had just arrived at Isola Tiberina for your daily training, already having three weeks' worth of experience. You've witnessed him assassinating contracts, taking note (not quite literally) so that when it came to be your time to make your first kill, you'd be more ready.

"Nothing today, amore." He was leaning against a wall of a building, supposedly a bank. You noticed a slight smirk form on his face.

"Nothing?" You smiled amusedly.

"You, mia cara, have earned a break." He lifted himself from the wall to face you straightly, a bit taller than you were.

"Oh is that so?" You couldn't help but smile again. You knew the charming Ezio well enough to know where this was heading. You rolled your eyes playfully when you followed him into an deserted alley.

You blushed faintly when he planted his hands firmly around your waist and felt his lips brush against the side of your neck. "You are such a pervertito." You breathed.

"It isn't called being a pervert when you enjoy and want it." You heard him chuckle. You blushed a deeper red. He was charismatic, flamboyant, and much too charming. You found that you heart was beating a faster rate than usual, but you showed that you were confident by not shriveling up uncomfortably.

He had rested his hand against the side of your face, caressing your smooth, slightly red cheeks with his thumb. You shyly slipped your arms around his neck, casting your gaze up to his eyes. He wore a smile. A smile that sent your heart aflutter. A smile that, every time seen, created a nonchalant, calm, relaxed, and peaceful feeling. All types of stress you felt would vanish instantly. It sounds rather cheesy when you repeat it in your head, but you admit. It was true. He had then softly pressed his lips against yours. And you did not object. There was no need. You grasped onto the back of his hood, deepening the kiss. Somewhat deeper, you supposed. Because a few seconds later, who else but Machiavelli approached, eyes on his journal, until he looked up from it, almost dropping the book. But he did not.

Instead, he almost laughed and said, "I was asked with a task from the local courtesans in that you would help them. I suppose I should turn them down, seeing as how you've no intention with any other woman but Madonna [Last Name]."

A throwing knife met the journal he held, digging through the cover. Your throwing knife, actually. Well, yours or not, it had caused poor Niccolò a hasty retreat, unwilling to be your target practice.

A smile formed on your face when Ezio complimented, "Nice shot."

You giggled softly, brushing hair away from your face.. "I have a great Mentor."