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#asas fics
asa-do-your-thing · 6 days
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Faileas
18+ MINORS DNI Cregan Stark x F!Reader 5.6k Warnings: SMUT, blowjob, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions forced marriage, dom / sub dynamics as always no proofreading no nothing
Hi guys! you wished for some Cregan action, here you go, some wintery woodsy and very sexy scenes for you <3
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The eerie silence of the snow-covered forest was suddenly shattered by a loud thump, jolting you out of your sleep. The sound echoed through the thick trees, sending shivers down your spine. You knew that snow never fell silently, but this was no gentle snowfall.
Someone or something had disturbed the peacefulness of the night.
Hastily pulling on your fur-lined boots and throwing on your warm cape, you grabbed your trusty ax, ready to defend yourself against any unwelcome visitors. The only light came from the full moon, casting elongated shadows across the ground. Your heart raced as you crept towards the door, unsure of what awaited you outside in the frigid darkness. Whoever was lurking around at this hour was most likely not a friendly soul.
Breathing deeply, you pushed open the door just a sliver to peer outside. The sight that met your eyes was nothing short of awe-inspiring. The snow lay pristine and untouched, beautifully illuminated by the silver glow of the moon. Each tree stood tall and heavy under its snowy blanket, the crystals shimmering with infinite variations of blue and silver under the celestial light.
Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught your attention. It was far off in the distance but distinct against the untouched snowscape. Fear surged through your veins, but courage stemmed from your noble upbringing spurred you on. As you stepped out into the winter night, the crisp air stung your face and the snow crunched under your boots. Your fingers tightened around the handle of your ax, its familiar weight offering some measure of comfort.
As you trudged deeper into the forest, it became clear that you were not alone. Footprints imprinted on the previously untouched surface told a tale of stealth and intention. A creature of some sort had indeed passed this way, disturbing the tranquility of your sanctuary.
You had sought solace in this barren place to offer your prayers. A giant Weirwood tree stood beside your modest dwelling, and you made offerings to it every day, seeking guidance. Your parents, who ruled House Knott, were determined to marry you off to an elderly Lord from the Stormlands. Desperate for someone to intervene, anyone at all, you turned to this sacred spot for help, but as it seemed, you were not entirely safe here.
Through gaps in the trees where moonlight penetrated, you saw it; a figure, cloaked in darkness paused momentarily at a clearing futher down. Its silhouette was hunched over as if peering at something in the snow.
Silently, like a wolf stalking its prey, you advanced cautiously towards it. Your heart pounded in your chest like a war drum as each breath became shallow and measured under stress. As you moved closer, an unexpected gust of wind swept through the trees making them groan under their icy load.
Spooked by the sudden noise, you gripped your axe tighter and lifted it up high, expecting the figure - a man in a cloak with fur over his shoulders - to jump up and attack you as soon as he thought you had let your guard down. He was most likely a poacher, trying to hunt down a skinny rabbit or a winter fowl.
“Poaching will get you hanged. Know that you are on the lands of House Knott and I shall bring you to the Lord if I catch you stealing from us,” you said calmly, your ax hanging over the man’s head. “And if you wish to attack me, I’ll lob your head off clean.”
The man quickly turned to face you, his eyes wide with surprise. He rose slowly, hands lifted in a placating manner. The man was tall, towering over you, and the moonlight revealed a wild shock of black hair and stormy grey eyes that seemed to carry a certain depth of experience and wisdom. There was something captivating about the way he looked at you, an intensity coupled with an unexpected warmth that was unlike any stranger you've encountered before.
“Easy there, m’lady,” he said, his voice resonating in the windless night. He cocked a small grin, his teeth white against his rugged features. His northern accent only added to his charm. “I’m no poacher, nor do I seek to harm you or rob your lands. I’m merely looking for shelter.”
His cloak billowed as he moved away from you towards a loneset tree nearby. In the dim light, you noticed a direwolf sigil stitched onto his cloak - the sigil of House Stark. An unexpected chill ran down your spine as realization hit.
"Lord Cregan Stark?" You questioned aloud, disbelief tinting your voice.
The man - Lord Stark - turned back to face you, giving a small nod as he surrendered jokingly with a chuckle. “Indeed," he confirmed in amusement, "Didn’t mean to startle you.”
A thousand questions danced in your mind as your grip on the axe loosened but did not let go completely. The Warden of the North standing before you in your family’s sanctuary in the Woods was something straight out of legends and ballads sung by minstrels at feasts.
“I… I can give you shelter, my Lord. Though it is only a small hut… It surely won’t live up to your expectations,” You mumbled and courtsied, trying to suppress the blush that formed on your cheeks.
Your mother has told you about Lord Stark, but seeing him there, in the moonlight, made you doubt her words. He was strikingly handsome, not at all boorish and violent like she had told you.
“Though, my Lord, if I may be so bold, I would’ve appreciated it greatly if you would have just knocked. I was prepared to hack you to pieces.”
Lord Cregan eyed you over. “Your hut? Are you Lady Knott? I thought she was an old hag, sitting and scheming around in her Keep. You’re decidedly younger and prettier.”
Approaching you slowly, he laid his large, gloved hand on the hilt of his sword. “If you aren’t Lady Knott, then what are you doing here, in the Knott’s Weirwood grove?”
You narrowed your eyes, straightening your posture as you met his gaze. "I am Lady Knott...the younger one," you clarified, feeling the corners of your mouth quirk up in a small smile.
"You might be confusing me with my mother." You watched as the hint of surprise crossed his features before transforming into an appreciative chuckle.
"Well then, that would explain the confusion," Lord Cregan replied, leaning against the tree he had been approaching earlier. He looked at you with renewed interest. "And as for knocking, I thought no one would be occupying this place at this hour. A slight miscalculation on my part."
Your smile widened as you stepped forward, crossing your arms over your chest. "Next time, my lord, take the time to knock. Or better yet, send a raven ahead of time."
His laughter echoed through the grove, a rich and deep sound that resonated within you. "Noted, Lady Knott."
Looking back at him composedly, you added: "But if you're still suspicious of me, Lord Stark, then by all means go back into the forest and sleep there..."
Lord Cregan raised an eyebrow at you. His eyes danced with a playful gleam under the moon's glow. There was a moment of tense silence before he let out another hearty laugh that vibrated through the grove.
"I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to turn away from such generous hospitality,” he answered warmly.
His words filled you with warmth even against the cold wind. He was not what your mother had made him out to be; he was far from it.
"Speaking of hospitality, my lord, would you care to step inside the hut?" you asked, tilting your head towards the entrance of the small dwelling. "I promise I won't hack you to pieces. At least, not tonight."
Once more, his laughter echoed through the trees, creating a symphony with the rustling leaves and nocturnal sounds.
"Lead the way, Lady Knott," Lord Cregan instructed, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he followed you into the hut. Inside was an array of family relics; old books, carefully crafted tapestries depicting ancient tales from their lands, and one prominent weirwood table where you had been preparing for your moonlit prayers.
You began to explain yourself, your hands nervously fidgeting as you gestured around the sacred space. "I come here often,” you admitted. "A little strange perhaps, for a young noble lady to find solace in such a... rudimentary place. But I find it peaceful."
Lord Cregan's eyes roamed over your treasured sanctum with evident respect. "And tonight?" he asked, glancing back at you as he leaned against one of your stack of books.
A sigh escaped your lips as you braced yourself to confide in this stranger who felt oddly trustworthy. "Tonight... Tonight I came here to pray against my marriage," your voice wavered toward the end.
His brows furrowed curiously and he inclined his head slightly sideways in question. "Against?"
"My parents have arranged my marriage," you clarified hastily. An uneasy laugh escaped your lips as tried to lighten up your confession. "To a sixty year old widower. A Lord from the Stormlands. Lord Symon Dondarrion, they said.”
Shrugging quickly, you put another piece of wood into the hearth and watched the embers reddening. Why were you rambling so? Lord Stark probably did not care.
His silence was unsettling. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he finally broke it with a soft, "I see." His gaze softened, empathy seeping through his glacial eyes as he watched the dancing flames of the hearth reflect in yours.
“And what does the young Lady wish for?" Lord Cregan asked, taking hesitant steps towards you. His sturdy voice echoed in the tight confines of the hut.
Despite his status as a powerful lord, he appeared genuinely interested. You drew in a shaky breath before managing to voice your deepest desire out loud. "To stay in the North," you answered honestly. "To stay where I have grown up, not having to go to… well, almost Dorne. And not having to marry an old man…."
A thoughtful silence fell between you both. Outside, the wind had picked up and was causing the leaves to rustle and twigs to snap under its force. Stark's gaze drifted towards one of your family small tapestries, where large, rugged old men sat next to sour-faced women, wolves and bears at their feet.
"In Winterfell," he began turning his steady gaze back to you, “we have a saying: ‘The lone wolf dies but the pack survives’. At times, alliances made are for survival not just for one individual, but for their kin and their people."
He paused for a moment and sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his head with his gloved hand, before taking it off. The warmth was catching up to him, it seemed. The seriousness faded from his face and he offered you a small smile. "But it doesn't mean that it has to be so bleak.”
The warm fires of the hearth flickered across his rugged features as he stepped closer to you. You could feel your heart drumming louder in your chest as he neared.
"For now, you’re here in the North. Isn’t that… good?”, he said, seemingly trying to cheer you up.
You felt your face flush with embarrassment as you stumbled out of your sodden boots and removed your drenched cloak. It was only then that you realized the inappropriateness of your attire for hosting the esteemed Warden of the North. The topic of your impending marriage also felt uncomfortable to discuss with him.
"Um, yes...I suppose so," you stammered, at a loss for words.
"But...that's not really important right now." Your awkwardness only seemed to grow in his intimidating presence. “If I may be so bold, what were you doing here, north of the Wolfswood, without any guards?”
The corners of Lord Cregan's mouth twitched ever so slightly, as if he was amused by your audacious question. He stood from the stack of books and began pacing the hut, each step measured and silent. "You have a keen sense for observation, Lady Knott," he began, the moonlight streaming through the window to highlight his stern profile.
He paused, leaning against the old ironwood table, his fingers gently brushing over a worn out book that lay there. "In all honesty," he admitted, not looking directly at you, but at the memorabilia scattered across the space. "I'm here on kind of...a pilgrimage."
"A pilgrimage?" you echoed, brows furrowing in confusion. You weren't sure what you expected, but that was certainly not it.
"Yes," he answered simply, before turning to face you properly. His eyes glowed with a certain intensity that made your heart flutter. "In my early youth, I often wandered these woods; it gave me a sense of calm that nothing else could."
"Even though Winterfell is known for its peace and tranquility?" you couldn’t help but jest lightly.
A deep chuckle echoed through the room as Lord Cregan nodded in amusement. "Even then," he confirmed. "Sometimes even the peaceful walls of Winterfell can feel suffocating."
You couldn't help but relate to his confession; even amongst your own family and kinfolk, there were times when you felt bereft of inner peace. It was one of the reasons why you often sought refuge in this secluded hut.
Lord Cregan sought your gaze again, the playful light replaced with a slightly darker one, although not completely sinister. “I think that the Gods have answed both of our prayers, though.”
Sitting down onto your bed, you offered him your chair and gestured towards a large bottle of wine, wordlessly inviting him to pour himself some, if he wished to. “My Lord?”, you asked, not quite knowing what he meant, cocking your head to the side.
Sitting down with a sly smile, he shrugged. “Well, I’m looking for a wife that is not a simpering flower. You’re looking for a strong, young, northern Lord. Or am I wrong, Lady Knott?”
His words hung in the air, creating an electric tension that you could physically feel. The preposterousness of his proposition was too absurd to believe, and yet his confident demeanor suggested he was entirely serious. You hesitated, eyeing him cautiously as if expecting him to erupt into a fit of laughter, revealing it to be a cruel jest. But the man before you remained grave and composed.
The silence stretched out between you like a yawning chasm. His question echoed in your mind, circling around like an insistent buzz. A desperate urge bubbled within you to provide a witty response, anything to alleviate the suffocating heaviness, but words failed to formulate.
Your mouth went dry as dust and for a moment, you worried that you had lost the ability to speak. All you could manage was a weak whisper of "What?" that surely Lord Cregan didn't even hear.
To your surprise, he didn't repeat himself or elaborate on his shocking proposal. Instead, he simply leaned back into his chair and studied you intently as he took a slow sip of the wine you offered him earlier.
A long moment passed before he finally broke the silence, a faint smile gracing his lips. "It's late," he stated simply, standing up from his chair and setting down his cup. You blinked at him in surprise, suddenly realizing how true his words were. The hourglass on your desk indicated that it was way past the hour of the bat.
Lord Cregan made his way towards you, his every movement graceful and measured. He paused, sliding his cloak off, quickly and gently holding your chin in his large hands, making you look up at him. “Tell me if you oppose this. Say the words and I will leave.”
Your breath hitched in your throat as his gaze bore into yours. The fiery intensity, the sheer command in his eyes was insurmountable. His words, though spoken softly, echoed thunderously in your ears. You had always considered yourself a strong-willed woman, not easily swayed by men and their games. But at this moment, looking up at him, you felt a strange fluttering sensation inside you.
The silence extended between you both like a spectral hand reaching out. His statement hung in the chilled air of the room, as if it were suspended on invisible threads. Your heart pounded in the hollow of your chest like a war drum echoing in an empty battlefield.
"Oppose what?" you found yourself asking, your voice barely above a whisper. You held his gaze, your mind racing to comprehend his proposal. Was he suggesting... matrimony? Surely not. The mere suggestion was preposterous.
Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell would never consider someone like you for a wife... would he?
He held your gaze steadily, yet there was a deep gentleness in his eyes that seemed to melt away the icy chill of the room. "Our union," he said simply, his voice quiet yet full of gravity. You blinked up at him incredulously.
Although his words were laced with an undeniable seriousness, you couldn't help but chuckle nervously at the absurdity of it all. "You are jesting." Your words came out as more of a statement than a question.
But the Warden of the North merely shook his head slightly, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you suggesting that I am a fool?”
Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. “Of course not! It’s just… how? How will you tell my parents? What will you tell Lord Dondarrion if he would protest?”
“Your father, Lord Knott, has sworn his allegiance to me. He will do as he is told. And Dondarrion… Do you really think that an old Stormlord will ever wish to come up to the North to fight me?”, he said confidently.
The certainty in Lord Cregan's voice was enough to squelch any remaining doubts swimming in your mind. His magnetic confidence had a way of drawing you in, making you question the foundations of your own thoughts and beliefs.
Still, you couldn't help but let out a dry laugh, leaning back against the bedpost with a hint of incredulity in your eyes.
“Cocksure and audacious. I suppose these are traits that I should expect from the Lord of Winterfell,” you commented wryly, crossing your arms over your chest. A soft light danced in his eyes at your words as he rested his hand on the wooden table, leaning towards you ever so slightly.
"And yet, here we are," he began, his tone mild as he absorbed the weight of your words. "In this secluded little hut, far away from prying eyes and the judgmental gaze of society."
He paused slightly, his gaze softening with an emotion that was too complex to decipher. "Should we not take this opportunity and consider what happiness we could find in one another?"
Your breath hitched at his question, a dull ache spreading through your chest as his words sunk in. The thought of marrying Lord Cregan Stark had never crossed your mind until this moment; it was simply a dream too far-fetched and distant for someone like you to entertain.
And yet, here he was - proposing just that.
A mischievous smile then took over his face, as if he had realized something amusing. “Though I must admit,” he said, moving closer to you till his face was just inches away from yours. “If I wouldn’t have known of your predicament, I wouldn’t have minded your company either. You’re a pretty one, Lady Knott.”
His eyes twinkled in the flickering candlelight, his usually stern facial features smoothed and made softer by the intimate atmosphere. The warmth that radiated from him was infectious, causing an involuntary blush to creep up your cheeks.
“Lady Knott, you're blushing,” he observed, a triumphant smirk etched on his face as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze playfully inspected your flustered form before he quickly masked his amused expression with a serious one. “I believe I have chased away all your doubts?”
The faintest hint of uncertainty still lingered within you, yet the way Lord Cregan looked at you made it seem like everything was possible. You nodded at him, mustering a small smile. “I suppose you did.”
He gave you a curt nod in response before pushing himself from his chair, a determined gleam in his wolfish eyes. “Then we waste no more time.”
Tension filled the air as he took your hand, guiding you out of the hut and into the dense underbrush. Despite being bundled in cloaks which you had hastily thrown on, both of you shivered from the cold winds that whipped around you. You led Cregan through the towering forest, feeling his steady and confident stride on the snow-covered terrain. It gave you strength knowing he trusted you blindly, following your lead without question. The howling northern wind only added to the intensity of the moment.
After what felt like an eternity of walking, you stopped abruptly in front of a gigantic Weirwood tree; its bark white as snow and leaves blood-red. There was an air of solemnity around it that commanded respect and awe.
“We are here,” you said simply, turning to look up at him with shaking hands reaching for his. “Are you sure?”
The wind whistled hauntingly through the trees, as if nature herself bore witness to this tremendous decision. Cregan Stark returned your shaky grip and looked deep into your eyes. His gaze was dark and stormy, an echo of the northern lands he led. Yet beneath that cold exterior was a layer of profound certainty, an unwavering resolve that was comforting in its strength.
"More sure than I've ever been," he finally said, his voice carrying the weight of the moment. He turned towards the old Weirwood tree, a symbol of his heritage and upbringing. “May the Old Gods bear witness to our oath.”
With your hands still wrapped in each other's, Cregan led you to the base of the ancient tree. You paused in awe at its size and majesty, feeling both insignificant and profoundly special at the same time. The Weirwood's face seemed to stir with an ancient wisdom as if acknowledging your presence.
Taking a deep breath, Cregan started speaking in earnest. “Before the gods, I declare my intent to wed Lady Knott,” his voice echoed through the silent forest, every word carving itself into existence as it lingered in the air.
He then looked at you, his gaze warm yet intense. "Do you willingly accept this union, Lady Knott? If so, speak your vows before the Weirwood."
For a moment there was silence, you gulped down the lump in your throat before speaking up softly yet firmly, “I do accept this union.” You took a step closer to him, hand slipping out of his to rest on his chest over his heart. “Do you willingly accept this union, Lord Stark?”
A silence fell over the eerie forest, the air seeming to hold its breath as if the trees themselves awaited his answer. Cregan Stark studied your face, a mix of love and solemnity in his gaze. He placed his hand over yours, his heart thudding steadily beneath your touch.
"Yes," he finally replied. His voice was a hushed whisper that nonetheless echoed through the silence, sending flocks of distant birds into flight. "I accept this union willingly." His hand tightened around yours. "With all my heart, Lady Knott."
The Weirwood seemed to shiver in response; its leaves rustling softly against the backdrop of the still night. His vow hung potent in the air, mingling with the soft rustling of leaves and echoing in the distance until it seemed to become one with the heartbeat of the very forest.
Humbled by his words and bearing witness to this union, you felt something in you stir. It was an intoxicating sensation, a heady mix of fear and excitement that made your heart pound in your chest like a war drum.
You both knelt before the Weirwood then, dipping your heads in reverence to the Old Gods. Shivering from more than just the frigid cold as snowflakes kissed your cheeks while they fell delicately from above. “May our lives entwine as tightly as our hands are now,” Cregan said softly, squeezing your fingers gently.
“May we grow old together under their watchful eyes,” you added, holding Cregan’s gaze with a bright smile on your face. The warmth radiating between you two belied the biting cold of winter.
He pulled you up, brushing the powdery snow off your backside. With an impish grin, he hoisted you into his arms and you couldn't help but blush.
"I'm your husband now, my dear. Let's save the 'Lord' title for when you are bouncing on my cock." He planted a playful kiss on your forehead before strutting back to the hut. It was clear he couldn't wait to fulfill his marital duties, making you blush and giggle at his eagerness.
With the Weirwood's milky bark glistening under the moonlight as a silent witness to your secret union, you clung onto Cregan as he carried you back to the hut. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest, every beat echoing the promises of love and devotion you both had made under the ancient tree.
Warm light spilled from the narrow slit of a window, illuminating the path leading to your shared domicile. The wind whipped frosty kisses against your cheeks, but entwined securely in Cregan's arms, you were in a cocoon of warmth that dulled the bite of winter.
He pushed open the door with his foot and set you down gently on the thick fur rug next to the smoldering hearth. His eyes danced devilishly over your body as he shrugged off his cloak, allowing it to fall carelessly onto the floor. He then proceeded to help you out of yours, his fingers lingering on areas he promised himself he would explore later.
While his hands were busy undressing you, his mouth claimed yours in an intense battle of dominance. You responded eagerly, matching his fervor and intensity. His mouth tasted like fire and mulled wine, a heady combination that sent shivers down your spine.
His hands found their way up your body, exploring every inch until they landed on your breasts. He kneaded them gently through your dress, eliciting a small gasp from you. The sound only served to spur him on as he moved swiftly and purposefully, undoing the lacing of your dress before sliding it down around your feet.
You stood naked before him, feeling both vulnerable and powerful as you watched him admiring you. “Having any doubts?”, you asked cheekily, enjoying his rapt attention more than a proper Lady should have.
“Doubts? Ha! Never. I shall thank the Gods every day henceforth for making us meet,” Cregan mumbled huskily as he pulled his clothes off, desperate to be rid of them as soon as he could. “Sit on the bed and open your legs for me. I want to see you… All of you.”
You blushed immensely and did as you were told. When you saw Cregan standing in front of you, just like the Gods had made made him, you couldn’t help but blush. You had never seen a man that made you feel the way he did - everything from his muscular shoulders to his hairy chest down to his big, throbbing member made you go crazy. Was this a dream? It had to be.
“You are stunning,” he whispered reverently as he joined you on the bed. His hands traced over your hips, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he moved upwards to cup your breasts. He teased your nipples lightly before parting your folds with his other hand.
“Cregan,” you moaned as his fingers found their target, sending sparks shooting straight to your core. His digit slid across your wetness before dipping inside, and you couldn’t help but arch your back in response.
“So wet for me already," he rasped, a smirk playing on his lips. “I knew you were a naughty girl from the first moment I saw you.” The teasing continued as he angled his hips, pressing the head of his cock against your cheek, before gently guiding it towards your moistened lips. “Do you want to prove me right, my pretty little wife?”
"Cregan, I… yes,” you mumbled senselessly, gently letting him enter your mouth as he continued stroking your pearl, though as soon as you let your tongue glide around his tips, his movements started becoming more and more erratic.
“Gods, that feels good,” he groaned. Encouraged by his reaction, you continued your ministrations, sucking him deeper into your mouth as he thrust in and out.
It wasn’t long before your moans mingled with his own, creating a symphony of wanton lust and desire that echoed off the walls of the hut. He pulled away abruptly with a groan. “No more," he panted heavily. "I won't last much longer like this."
With one smooth move, he flipped you over onto your stomach, spreading your legs wide apart. You felt him nudge against your entrance, hot breaths fanning over your chest, sending shivers down your spine. “Are you ready for me?”
“I… I think so, Yes…,” you mumbled, shaking in anticipation.
“Wait… Are you still a maiden?” Cregan asked incredulously, gently lowering himself next to you, kissing you and holding you close to him so that you would not get cold. Not being able to do anything else than to nod, you blushed and closed your eyes as you felt his arms wrapping around you and lifting you onto him.
“Oh… I, ah…”, you muttered and blushed as you saw this large, handsome man lying underneath you and grinning up at you.
“Hush, you needn’t say anything. Just do whatever feels good for you. I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered and laid his hands onto your hips.
Your heart was racing as you felt Cregan's strong, calloused hands slip you onto him, giving you the control over the situation. Blushing, as you felt the heat of his skin against your own, you braced yourself for the slight pain that would come, yet breathed it out before sinking onto his cock with a small moan, your cheeks heating up even more.
The bed dipped under your combined weight as he grasped your waist and thrust gently upward, pushing himself further inside. Your body reacted instinctively, latching onto him with every inch until he's buried to the hilt inside you.
“Good girl… Fuck…” Cregan mumbled and gently held you down, gazing up at you with incredulous eyes.
You tried to focus on something other than the sensation, but it was impossible. His muscled, hairy chest rose and fell with each ragged breath beneath you while his hands roamed down your back—smooth skin meeting soft curves—and grasping your ass cheeks firmly. He held you there with one hand while the other slid between your legs, pushing against that sensitive spot between them that made your toes curl just from the touch.
“Oh G-gods…”, was all you managed to stutter out as you felt yourself tightening around him.
You let out a tiny moan as you began to move, rocking your hips gently back and forth as he groaned and shivered underneath you. Each thrust sent wave after wave of pleasure through every nerve ending in your body, making it impossible not to squirm. His cock was long and thick inside you, filling you completely as you took control of the pace. As he raised himself up on his elbows and took one of your breasts, gently pinching your nipple, you squealed and felt your release washing over you, barely able to hold yourself over him.
“Just like that, my girl… You’re perfect…”, Cregan mumbled as he gently guided you under him, kissing you with great fervour as he repositioned himself, gently pressing your thighs down onto your stomach, lifting your feet onto his broad shoulders.
Before you could wonder what he was doing, he pushed himself inside you, making you moan loudly. This angle felt even better than before and you felt giddy at him looming over you, fucking up into you as if you were a dirty harlot and it made you tighten around him even more.
“Cregan, my Lord, I… ah…”
“Shh…” He silenced you with a hungry kiss, grinding his hips against yours in a primal rhythm. The air was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and your moans as he continued pounding into you, each thrust harder than the last. “You're so fucking tight, I can't...”
His words spurred you on, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to go even faster and harder. He obliged, his cock brushing against your insides in all the right places. It didn't take long for the sensations to build up again, but this time it was more intense than before - like a ball of fire deep within your belly that grew bigger and bigger until you couldn't take it anymore.
“Cregan, I… I can’t...”
“That's it, my girl… let it go,” he growled as he thrust one last time, filling you with his hot seed, making your orgasm explode inside of you like a supernova of pure bliss. Your screams echoed through the hut as you shook uncontrollably, both gasping for air as your heartbeats slowed down.
“Well done...”, he panted out. “I knew you'd be... perfect. My Lady Stark.”
168 notes · View notes
asa-writes · 4 months
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Dreams - Masterlist
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They all need each other, though each in their own seperate way. Growing up and loving in times of war isn't easy at all. Especially when you have to fight for the lives of the people you thought you loved - when you have to abandon everything for the greater good, when you have to choose between sexual, familiar and romantic love.
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Warnings and General Tags under the cut.
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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Chapters:
1 - Jon ¦ 2 - Robb ¦ 3 - Lucie ¦ 4 - Robb ¦ 5 - Jon ¦ 6 - Lucie ¦ 7 - Jon ¦ 8 - Robb ¦ 9 - Lucie ¦ 10 - Jon ¦ 11 - Lucie ¦ 12 - Robb ¦ 13 - Jon ¦ 14 - Lucie ¦ 15 - Jon ¦ 16 - Robb ¦ 17 - Lucie ¦ 18 - Robb ¦ 19 - Jon ¦ 20 - Lucie ¦ 21 - Robb ¦ 22 - Jon ¦ 23 - Lucie ¦ 24 - Theon ¦ 25 - Jon ¦ 26 - Lucie ¦ 27 - Theon ¦ 28 - Jon ¦ 29 - Lucie ¦ 30 - Theon ¦ 31 - Robb ¦ 32 - Jon ¦ 33 - Lucie ¦ 34 - Jon ¦ 35 - (surprise) ¦ 36 - Jon ¦ 37 - Lucie ¦
Drabbles and One-Shots:
"My Sweet" - Robb Stark x Lucie Templeton
Also available on:
Archive of our Own and Wattpad
Warnings / Tags: Canon Divergence - AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Misogyny, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubcon, Alcohol, Drugs, Age Difference, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, War, Forced Marriage, Arranged Marriage, Pregnancy, Character death, Child Death, Age Play, Bondage, Masochism, Edging, Derogatory Language, Infidelity, Oral Sex, Unplanned Pregnany, Breeding Kink, Masturbation, Hunting, Underage Sex (Canon-Typical)
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adorethedistance · 5 months
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First I Love You - Jamie Drysdale x Reader
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Hockey Masterlist
Warnings: swearing, mentions of anxiety, sexual references.
Words: 1677
Summary: First I Love You - After a day that gets increasingly worse, Jamie plans a date night to indirectly celebrate your two-month anniversary.
A/n: Cherry is back with a fic after a month of radio silence in typical aodre the distance fashion lol. Anyway! This has been in my drafts forever and I hate it, I can't proof it due to writer's block, and I'm honestly just done staring at it so here ya go!
You can read part 1 of the series of firsts here. The next and final first on the list is first time which is of course gonna be a lil smutty. I might write some Trevor pieces in the interim just depending how I'm feeling.
Today is just one of those days. My class ran much longer than usual and I had to stay after to ask my professor questions before the midterm that night, then I didn’t have time to make myself lunch so I grabbed the pizza rolls from my freezer to heat up at work, then I burned the pizza rolls beyond consumption and did not have any back up food, then I was starving and stressed and unable to use my time at work to study for the exam. I was crying in a puddle of stress and tears. And Jamie didn’t miss a beat. 
Upon hearing how horrible my morning and afternoon had been, he ordered my usual meal from In-N-Out and brought it to me at work so I wouldn’t starve. Then, he offered to make me dinner after I finished my midterm and I tearfully and appreciatively accepted. These little actions of consideration are what have made me fall deeper and deeper in love with Jamie. 
We reached our two months anniversary today but I didn’t make a big deal about it. I feel weird about potentially being one of those couples that celebrates every tiny little milestone like it’s the biggest thing in the world. Still neither of us have said “I love you” yet. But if Jamie continues caring for and about me like this, I’m not sure much longer I can hold it in. That’s why I decided I would tell him tonight.
After cooking dinner for the two of us, and pouring a congratulatory glass of wine to celebrate the 95 I got on my midterm, we laid down on the couch together. Happy and fed, I rest my head on the expanse of his broad chest. Jamie presses a kiss into my hair, bringing his left arm to drape over my shoulders.
“God, 2 months already?!” Trevor asks Jamie incredulously, making me roll my eyes at the playful jab.
“Don’t sound so surprised, Zegras.”
“You’re just mad cause you can’t pull.” Jamie’s accusation makes me laugh at the offended look on Trevor’s face. 
“Don’t get it twisted, I can pull.”
“You just can’t get them to stay?” I ask innocently, absentmindedly messing with Jamie’s fingers. Jamie laughs heartily. He interlaces his with mine to give my hand a gentle squeeze. “But to answer your original question, yes, it’s been 2 months already.” 
The scruff of my boyfriend’s 5 o’clock shadow brushes the back of my hand as he kisses the flat part of my knuckle. Trevor, observing the entire action, leans over the kitchen trashcan and pretends to throw up. Jamie merely laughs and I roll my eyes once more, “Shut the fuck up! You are so dramatic.”
“And for what?” Jamie chimes in which makes me smile to see he’s been picking up some of my mannerisms and phrases as well. That’s been my favorite part of dating him so far. The way his music taste slowly infiltrates mine. The way he now keeps a trashbag in his car after realizing how useful the one in mine is. The way he’s wearing the soft blue hoodie he lent me, for the reason that it now smells like me, which is why I had stolen it from him in the first place.
“I’m happy for you guys, really,” Trevor grabs his car keys from off the granite kitchen counter, “Thank you for rubbing salt into the open wound.”
“Oh my god-” Jamie starts.
“Get out of here!” I finish for him, urging Trevor to leave. 
“I’m gone!” He obliges. Then, Jamie kisses my head again, prompting me to sit up. 
“Did he say where he was going?”
“Mmm… no, actually. If I had to guess, he’s probably going golfing with the guys.”
“No way, he was dressed way too nice for golf…” I trail off, racking my brain for where he could have possibly been headed. Shrugging off the idea, I straddle Jamie’s hips, and look down at him. I smile. Overcome with the warm sensation of staring at my boyfriend. Jamie nudges me with his hips, indicating he would like me to lay back down. Before I comply, I pull my hair back tying it out of the way so I’m free to kiss Jamie as much as I please. He watches my every move, eyes flooded with adoration.
“At practice this morning, McT said he…” Jamie trails off mid sentence. As he was talking, I finished tying my hair back and then leaned down as he had wanted me to. He’s looking at me with eyes slightly widened and lips parted in surprise. 
“What?” I ask, concerned as to why Jamie stopped talking. He simply says,
“You’re really pretty.” The seemingly arbitrary declaration makes me laugh but does nothing to aid my confusion.
“Okay?”
“You’re just so pretty I think I short-circuited.” The earnest confession makes me smile and giggle, so I press a soft kiss to Jamie’s lips.
“You’re cute. So what did Mason say?”
“Oh yeah, he said that he wants to meet you.”
“Really?” I ask, rubbing my thumb over Jamie’s cheekbone. He kisses my palm before responding,
“Despite how much you and Trevor bully each other, he’s told everyone on the team about how cool you are. He kinda took the liberty to do it himself since I do gush about you, but I get shy about it.” Jamie is uncharacteristically speaking out loud his stream of consciousness, and I take a back seat to admire how talkative he can be when he’s with me. A stark contrast to the shy, almost silent boy I’d had my first date with. Noticing how much he’s talking, Jamie ends his rambling but I smile softly, encouragingly,
“It’s unfortunate that the ‘cool girl’ is seemingly the only archetype that consistently receives approval from men, but it is true nonetheless.”
“Yeah, like, it’s not that I need his approval, but it is nice when your boys like your girlfriend… Well, it’s what you said, you just said it better. I’m mansplaining aren’t I?” He asks, bashfully. I roll my eyes and appreciatively kiss his lips once more.
“Get out of your head, Drysdale. Do you have anxiety?” 
“Shut up. I think you’re the only person I’ve ever met who can always tell when I’m overthinking.”
“Maybe I’m just the only one with the audacity to comment on it,” I playfully propose, smiling when I succeed in making Jamie laugh. 
“I don’t think so.”
“We’ll agree to disagree. It’s unlikely, but not impossible.” Dropping the bit, Jamie and I smile at each other, melting into a comfortable silence. He looks at me with soft eyes, pink blush creeping across his cheeks the longer I continue to stare. I rest my left hand on the side of his face once more. I brush my thumb over his cheekbone again, and rub the top of my fingers repeatedly against the stubble adorning his jaw. Jamie lifts his eye brows before saying,
“What, do I need to shave?”
“No. I just like the way it feels.”
“Oh, hey, you said you’re done with school by mid december, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“My mom asked if you were coming to Christmas this year.”
“Did she really?” Jamie hesitates a moment before his brows furrow in sincere disapproval.
“You’ve been my girlfriend for two months now. She will not shut up about meeting you.”
“What? Why?” He then blushes fiercely and cowers his head into the large hoodie he’s slouched on. Jamie doesn’t meet my gaze as he talks,
“I told her all about you the other day.” I bite back the giant smile that prods at my features before replying,
“What did you tell her?”
“Just stuff about you!”
“What stuff about me?!”
“I told her you’re a student and what you’re studying. I told her where you’re from and what your family is like. And I told her about how I stare at you between red lights when we’re going somewhere.” The last piece of information makes me laugh and I tilt my head in confusion.
“How did that last part come up?” It was a simple question, really. One that I hadn’t even bothered to put a lot of thought into; one that came from my basic stream of consciousness. And certainly not one that I imagined would ellicit such a reaction from Jamie. His eyes widened and softened all at once, his blush glowing brighter across his cheeks, and his lips parting to allow the irregular pace of breathing he had now adopted.
“I guess… I called her because I was unsure of what I was feeling…? I was kinda freaking out about it. As I told her about our first date, she said that just talking about you made me visibly happier. She noticed that, even though I wasn’t aware of how happy I’d gotten. Then she demanded to meet you as soon as possible…” Jamie sheepishly looks up at me after finishing his mini monologue. The traces of endeared happiness immediately vanish and Jamie looks at me horrified. In describing how happy I make this boy, I felt tears welling up on my lashes, relieved to be experiencing something so thoroughly mutual.
“Oh my god, please don’t cry I’m sorry!” I laugh through the tears and playfully smack his chest.
“Jamie…”
“You make me really happy, Y/n. Like, really really happy-”
“I love you,” I blurt out. I’m a bit stunned and honestly scared of how quickly this confession escaped me. But I know it’s true. And isn’t that the scariest part?
“I love you too.”
“Really?” I ask through unrelenting tears.
“Yes,” Jamie rests his hands on the tops of my hip bones, “I kind of lied by saying my mom said I looked happy… She said I looked very in love, but I didn’t want to be too forward and say that if you maybe didn’t feel the same way.”
“Bro, you worry so much, are you sure you don’t have anxiety?”
“Shut the fuck up!”
***
a/n: copy pasting tags is the best thing that has ever happened to fic writers I think.
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doomh3ad · 2 years
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slashers + pet names (pt2) [including michael myers, asa emory, pinhead, brahms heelshire]
Michael Myers
-he doesn't speak, but he comes across you watching tv, looking happy at your favourite on-screen couple interacting. he hears them exchanging love confessions then notices your almost wistful sigh at the pet names they use.
-in his head, he now refers to you with the pet names he's seen you like. whatever your favourites are, he'll think of you as. sometimes he tilts his head curiously, or in acknowledgement when you call him a pet name and you can tell this is his way of calling you one back.
Asa Emory/The Collector
-you guessed it, anything bug related. ladybug or ladybird, butterfly, mantis, cricket, little bug. also, "pet", "toy" or "plaything" if you know him as the collector. he also likes "mouse" on occasion
-uses specific scientific names too. you're his gorgeous lepidoptera, his plecia nearctica (love bug). he definitely annoys you and makes you second-guess which names are real and which ones he's just made up. let's hope you're a sucker for taxonomy!
Pinhead
-we know he's a classy guy. despite being a hell priest, he's a total gentleman and treats you as such. you're his darling dove, his greatest love, his precious treasure, his everything.
-he is a demon to some, angel to others; you're just his angel. he can wax poetry about your tormented, captured, free, pure soul and how it is the perfect antithesis to his, and you'd listen to it all. you are his other half, what completes him, the yin to his yang.
Brahms Heelshire
-another pretty classy guy, he'll call out for you in that deep gravelly voice using rather quaint pet names. he gets most of his general ideas of romance from the old fashioned songs and books his parents raised him with and so his pet names for you follow suit.
-you are his beloved, his intended, his soulmate, his dear heart, his one and only love. he's your gentleman caller. i can also see him slowly using more modernised pet names although he prefers the classics.
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wolfish-nightmares · 2 months
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The Four Faces of Death
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Pairings: Hannigram x reader x Collectkin 
Warnings: violence, gore, bad language, sex, cannibalism, 18+
Category: Angst, fluff? Smut.
Summary: Your life is shattered and changed between the hands of four of the most dangerous killers. 
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Silentium Est Aureum - Silence is golden in the black eyes of death
Mortem Obire - Death is always the hardest to face.
Deus Pascit Corvos -
Semper Invictus -
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fuumiku · 1 year
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… Do you think the chainsaw on his forehead is in his field or vision, or not since his eyes are to the side of his giant plastic nose like a prey animal. If the latter, do you think that makes him forget that it’s there half the time and that if he leans in too closely he’ll split her head in two
“Chainsaw Man has sideways-facing eyes therefore he is a prey animal” sounds like something Asa would put on her “Why Chainsaw Man is lame” power point presentation
The first one’s composition is heavily inspired by this post: https://www.tumblr.com/strawberryblondie-locks/701657019332034560/ by @strawberryblondie-locks​ because the vine boom sfx lives in my head and it makes me cackle so hard every time I think of it
Anyways these are some funny haha doodles to accompany my first asaden fic (and oh, there shall be more), read it here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43742301
Someone left this comment on it and yeah tbf I kept forgetting to draw his chainsaws so I get him, fellow man of no thoughts head empty
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logicalalo · 5 months
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Asa has no home so she asked Denji if she can stay. The likelihood of this occurring is kinda low but let me dream 😭
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"Hold on tight!"
A scene from the fic Jellyfish glow
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fivefeetfangirl · 9 months
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so... i'm soon done with 91w, which has honestly been the most insane roller coaster i've ever been on lol. BUT i don't want to get off the roller coaster, or at least stay in the amusement park, so if you have a fic you're absolutely crazy about, or even just think i should read, please please please rec it!! it doesn't have to be popular, it could be your own even! so this is your sign to spam the notes with fic recs <33
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asacchi · 1 year
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for @skania i have read the last chapter of your beautiful sk fic a few months ago, and it made me feel so many things. sadness it’s over but also relief at that beautiful ending. i cried a lot. thank you so much for finishing it. I will always cherish it. 
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asa-do-your-thing · 4 months
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Jack of all Trades, Master of None
Cregan Stark x F!Reader x Jacaerys Targaryen
18+ MINORS DNI
WC: 3,7k
Warnings / tags: pool sex, tag teaming, light anal, deflowering, p in v sex, fingering, porn without plot, no beta reads no nothing.
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Anxious beads of sweat formed on your forehead as you shifted uncomfortably under the watchful gaze of Lord Cregan and Prince Jacaerys. Their eyes seemed to bore into your very soul as you floated in the warm, bubbling waters of the hot spring. Tall and handsome, both men held crystal bottles filled with deep red wine in their hands, a sharp contrast to the rough towels draped over their elegant clothing.
Their grins were almost mischievous as they looked down at you, a sight that surely surprised them - after all, you were just the sixth daughter of Lord Reed and the humble nanny to Lord Cregan's son Rickon.
"It seems like we've caught ourselves a mermaid here," Lord Cregan said and let his eyes wander over your womanly frame. He threw his towel next to the stone steps and began unbuttoning his doublet, glancing over at Prince Jacaerys. "That's the Reed girl I told you about."
With a quick flick of your hair and a graceful stroke, you swam towards the steps, your arms modestly covering yourself from the prying eyes of the men. "My apologies, Your Highness, my Lord, I must take my leave," you murmured as you avoided their gazes, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
But your escape was halted by Lord Cregan, who had slyly removed his garments. You couldn't understand his intentions - to trap you like this in front of the Crown Prince, an honored guest...
Quickly swimming back with a bright flush on your face, you looked away as Prince Jacaerys disrobed as well and followed Lord Cregan into the hot water, groaning at the soothing temperature. This was wrong, oh so wrong, you thought to yourself as you swam up to a small ledge, tucking your legs under yourself and using your hair to shield yourself from their interested looks.
"So, my Lady Reed... whatever brings you to these hot springs so late in the evening? Should you not be in bed?", Prince Jacaerys asked you, letting his eyes wander over your wet, pale body. You knew that he was a Prince the second he opened his mouth - all of his words, his manner of speech, and gods, even his voice were regal and commanding, making you blush heavily.
Just as you wanted to defend your virtue, Lord Cregan stepped in for you as he gently, but firmly laid one of his big hands on the naked small of your back as he pushed you off of the ledge, closer to the shallower area where the Prince was standing. "Show some courtesy to your future King, my Lady, and answer his question," he mumbled quietly into your ear, his beard gently tickling your pale, soft cheek making you shiver and blush even more.
Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, Queen Rhaenyra's eldest son, was undeniably attractive. As he rested his arms on the edge of the pool and looked at you, it was hard not to be captivated by his beauty. He had a slimmer build compared to Lord Cregan, but the way his veins popped against his skin and the small trail of black hair down his toned stomach made your mouth go dry as you struggled to curtsy without dipping your head into the water. "Please forgive me, your Highness. I should be resting in bed. Keeping up with the future Lord Stark has been exhausting lately... And it was so chilly tonight, please excuse my forwardness, your Highness and my Lord. I simply wanted to feel some warmth."
You fought your hardest to suppress a shriek as he pushed himself and swam up to you, quickly turning you around and pressing himself against your well-rounded buttocks. He smelled incredible and you could feel him chuckling silently as he ran his surprisingly soft hand over your naked form over and under the water, as if to taunt Lord Cregan.
"Oh, dear Cregan, she is very cold..." He noted with a smirk as you shivered against his gentle touch, especially as he traced his thumb over your sore nipple, making you sharply inhale the damp air in the grotto. "It does seem like small Rickon is taking his toll on her. Tsk-tsk, Cregan, is that how you treat Lady Reed?"
Making sure you didn't look away, Lord Cregan came closer to you and tightly held your chin in his hand, giving you an almost challenging look. "Do you wish to tell you that I do not treat you well, my Lady Reed?"
Gods, gods, gods, you muttered over and over in your mind as you could feel the Prince's cock hardening against your asscheeks and at the way Lord Cregan's eyes seemed to burn into yours. "N-no, not at all my Lord, you are very generous and kind," you pressed out as he stepped even closer and gave Prince Jacaerys a look over your shoulder.
"Indeed I am, my Lady," he mumbled and moved to pinch one of your sore nipples, but was gently pushed back by Prince Jacaerys.
"Lord Stark, I believe the Lady has wished for warmth and relaxation. Is it not in your duty to provide for your subject's needs?", Prince Jacaerys whispered lowly against your ear, nibbling on it, making you scrunch up your face so as not to moan or follow your body's instinctive need to rub yourself against one of the men's hardening members.
Beads of sweat formed on your forehead as you shifted uncomfortably under the watchful gaze of Lord Cregan and Prince Jacaerys. Their eyes seemed to bore into your very soul as you bobbed in the warm, steaming waters of the hot spring, your hair gently swaying around your curvy form.
The sound of their voices echoed off the rocky walls, making your heart race even faster with each word they spoke. Their grins were almost mischievous as they looked down at you; it felt like they were sharing a secret joke that you weren't part of.
You couldn't help but notice the way Lord Cregan's eyes traced your every curve and how he licked his lips unconsciously. It was clear that he found you desirable - he had let you know that for a long while, but to be found desireable by the Queen's heir? That was another thing, by far.
Lord Cregan gently released your chin as he stepped back, allowing Prince Jacaerys to take over with a wide smirk on his face, his strong, broad arms crossing on his muscular chest. You couldn't help but whimper softly as the Crown Prince held you even tighter and lifted your hair over his shoulder so Cregan had a full view of your nakedness.
With a soft smirk, he pressed his hard length against your entrance, rubbing it teasingly against you as he leaned down and kissed the nape of your neck, sucking it gently with just the right amount of force to make you gasp and arch your back. The double sensation of both water and his warm mouth on your skin made you shiver. He pulled back with a satisfied hum, looking up at Lord Cregan who seemed equally amused.
"You see, little mermaid? What do you think happens when two strong men like us want what we desire?" he asked, his voice rumbling as he traced his fingers down your stomach and onto the mound between your legs. You were slick from excitement, making it easy for him to tease you further.
His finger dipped inside, finding your entrance already hot and wet for him. "You are tight," he whispered huskily, making you tremble as another finger entered you slowly. You moaned in pleasure mixed with discomfort, feeling stretched but wanting more of this wicked delight. "Do you like it when we share you?"
"I-I would not know my Lord," you managed to squeak out between moans as Prince Jacaerys' long finger pushed further inside you, making another moan escape your shivering lips.
Lord Cregan came closer to you and kissed you hungrily, his rough hands playing with your supple breasts. You held tightly onto him as Prince Jacaerys continued to bully your inexperienced cunny, your nails digging into his broad back. "Mh, I think she'll come undone in an instant if you continue like that, your Highness," Cregan mumbled and slid his hand down as well, rubbing your hot pearl, making you shriek in pleasure.
"Too much... I... please!", you hiccuped, tightening yourself around the Prince's fingers, your face flushing uncomfortably hot. "Please, I've never... 'm a maiden..."
Prince Jacaerys chuckled as he pinched your nipple gently, making you gasp and arch your back as he thrust his fingers deeper into your tight sheath, finding your sweet spot with ease. "Such a delicate little flower," he whispered in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. Lord Cregan let out a low growl, leaning down to tease your other nipple with his lips before closing them around it, sucking gently.
You let out a high-pitched moan as they took turns teasing and pleasuring you, their hands roaming freely over your wet skin. You felt overwhelmed by the sensations as they claimed you like this, their bodies looming over yours in a dominating manner that made your heart race. With each thrust of their fingers inside you, you could feel yourself growing wetter and needier for more.
Lord Cregan groaned in approval as he slid two fingers into your tight passage, stretching you further than you ever thought possible. You moaned incoherently as they began to move in unison, their hands tracing every curve and hollow on your body. They smelled of sweat and saltwater mixed with expensive cologne from the south that made the air thick with desire. The taste of him was different from Prince Jacaerys - more musky and masculine - but it only added to the thrill of being taken by not one, but two men at once, neither of them your betrothed.
"Oh, but you are no longer a maiden, are you?" Prince Jacaerys teased, his fingers finding your weak spot once more, making you gasp as he pressed and rubbed against it. "I think you've been well taken care of, my dear." He smirked down at you, his lips brushing your earlobe. "Now, we can decide on how to break you in together."
You felt Lord Cregan chuckle darkly against your lips, his beard grazing your skin as he nipped at your bottom lip playfully. "Indeed," he agreed, his own fingers joining in the assault on your sensitive flesh, rubbing circles around your clit as his fingers plunged deep inside you with each thrust.
The water lap against your body and the roughened walls all around created a symphony of sensations that heightened the experience even more. You couldn't help but whimper and moan into Lord Cregan's mouth, overwhelmed by pleasure and fear of what was happening.
Prince Jacaerys pulled his fingers out of you with a pop, leaving you aching for more, tightening around Lord Cregan's. "Don't worry, little one," he murmured, leaning down to lift your hips up to Lord Stark's. "We'll take good care of you." He guided Lord Cregan's member to your entrance once he retracted his fingers and watched as it slowly slipped inside you. The burn was not as bad as you'd anticipated, yet you blushed just the same when you saw a tiny cloud of blood leave your cunny.
"The Lady did not lie, she truly is a virgin," Prince Jacaerys said and kissed you hungrily, pushing you down against Lord Stark's thrusts. "Such a good girl, aren't you? Taking us with no complaints, moaning and squeezing us tighter than any other."
His words sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but cry out as Prince Jacaerys' fingers found their way into your mouth, massaging your cheeks, and teasing your tongue as his ally began to move inside you. The stretch was intense, but the pleasure that came with it was beyond what you could have imagined.
It felt like a mix of pain and ecstasy, as if you were both being ripped open and filled up at the same time. You groaned into Prince Jacaerys' taste, savoring the saltiness of his skin and the muskiness of his sweat mixed with the hot water that surrounded you.
You could feel Lord Cregan's hips move faster with each passing moment, his strong arms pinning your shoulders to the side as he plunged deeper into you. You clung onto him tightly, feeling his rough skin against your breasts as they swayed with every thrust. The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed in the water around you, creating a melody that only increased the arousal coursing through your veins.
Prince Jacaerys let out a husky chuckle before snaking one of his hands to your asscheek, whick he squeezed unimaginbly tight. you loudly cried out as your felt one of his fingers, which was still slick with your drool, gently swirl against the entrance of your bottom. The sensation sent shockwaves of pleasure through your core, causing you to writhe against Lord Cregan's member buried inside you. You couldn't believe how good this felt.
Just as Lord Cregan quickly pulled out of you and took a deep breath, Prince Jacaerys very gently shushed you and carried you over to the ledge, where he placed you onto your knees and slipped his longer cock in, giving you very slow, sensual thrusts. "You're so good to us, little one," Lord Cregan muttered as he joined you as well, giving you a sloppy kiss and sitting up in front of you, his cock just above the water in front of your puckered mouth.
"You'll get everything you want and more as long as you continue taking us so well, you little slut," he mumbled, gently sticking his large thumb into your mouth, almost making you gag. "Your future King loves your tight little cunny, you're making it hard for us to not just fill you with our seed."
You felt yourself torn between pleasure and pain, but the Lord's thumb in your mouth ground you back to reality. Your hips rocked with every thrust, matching the Princes rhythm as he took your cunt from behind. You could taste both of their salty skin on your tongue, their musky scent filling your nostrils.
You whimpered into Cregans' cock as he removed his thumb and replaced it with his thick cock, his hand gripping your wet hair tightly to hold your head in place as he fucked your mouth slowly, making sure you take him all the way down. His length slid against your tongue with each stroke, sending shivers down your spine.
The water echoed with slapping skin and men's grunts of pleasure. The waves crashed against the cliffs, drowning out the sounds of the night around you as Jacaerys gently teased your puckered back entrance with his thumb. Your mind went blank in ecstasy as his cock found the spot that made you see stars every time he rammed against it, feeling him fucking it over and over again.
His fingers dug into your hips, leaving bruises that only added to the ache between your legs as you wanted beg for more from him only to be met with the response thrust from Cregan into your throat, saliva dripping down your reddened lips. Lord Stark growled lowly, grabbing onto your hair and pulling slightly as he pushed deeper inside you. He grunted in approval at the noises you made you you felt that if you wanted to take a breath he'd always take the pressure away from your hair to reassure you that he wasn't forcing you.
Your body couldn't help but respond to the dual stimulation. You were being brutally taken by two men, one fucking your throat and the other pounding your pussy, but you couldn't deny the unparalleled pleasure it brought you. The water lapped against your skin, cooling you off from the heat between your thighs as Prince Jacaerys slammed into you from behind. A soft moan escaped your lips each time his hips met with yours, sending shockwaves through your core.
The taste of salt and musk filled your mouth as Lord Cregan's cock slid in and out, stretching it to its limits. As he picked up speed, his heavy breathing mixed with the sound of slapping skin and splashing water created a symphony of passion in the air.
Prince Jacaerys, meanwhile, moved slower inside you, teasing your sweet spot mercilessly as he pressed his lips against your neck. His hand found its way to your breast once more, squeezing it roughly before pinching your nipple between his fingers, sending tingling sensations down your shaking body. You cried out into Lord Cregan's cock, unable to contain yourself any longer.
"That's it," he growled into your ear, "take our cocks like the good little whore you are."
You moaned into Cregan's cock, tasting him deeply as you felt Jacaerys' rough hands on your body, possessing and demanding, his cock twitching against your tightening walls.
"You belong to us," Cregan murmured reverently against as he looked down on you, "and we're going to make sure you know that."
You whimpered as the men pulled out slowly and as the Prince slapped his cum onto your back, hot and sticky. You arched forward, unable to help yourself as Cregan pushed back in once more. "Mine," he growled lingeringly before leaning down to snake his arms under yours and to pull you onto his lap.
Jacaerys groaned behind you, his hand tousling his shaggy mop of dark hair as he sat back and tried catching his breath. "You're so fucking magnificent," he breathed and grinned as he watched you grining and bobbing up and down on Cregan's cock.
As you rode your Lord, you felt like you were floating up in the heavens, especially as he held you so softly, kissed you so reverently, it was as if he wanted to reward you for letting him fuck you so roughly, you immediately felt yourself coming apart as his thick finger bullied your overstimulated clit by rubbing it steadily. "Come for your Lord, my precious, take my cock and milk it," he mumbled senselessly as your nails drew sharp lines over his broad chest.
As the wave of pleasure washed over you, your body shuddered and jerked as if it had a mind of its own, as did Cregan's. Your walls clamped down around his cock, milking him dry while his fingers dug deep into your ass cheeks, holding you open for Jacaerys to see how your cunt was spasming around the cock and leaking his hot spend.
The men's roughness and demanding actions left you breathless, yet strangely satisfied. You were also pleasantly surprised at the way how Lord Cregan had released you ever-so-gently and continued holding you in a tight hug so that you didn't need to keep yourself afloat in the hot water.
Feeling the sturdy chest of Lord Cregan pressing against your heaving chest, you looked up to see him smiling at you, his eyes filled with an affectionate glow. "You were magnificent, my Lady," he praised, his voice a deep, soothing purr that vibrated through your body. He pulled you closer against him, one hand lazily tracing down your spine to rest on the curve of your hip. His other hand intertwined with yours and you found yourself nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
Feeling emboldened by the warm affection radiating from him, you whispered back, "And what reward do I get for being so?" A breathy chuckle echoed through his chest as he gave your hip a firm squeeze.
"Name your reward and it shall be yours," he murmured into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
Before you could answer, Prince Jacaerys waded towards the two of you through the steamy water, his eyes filled with mirth and admiration. "Indeed," he chimed in with a sly grin. "Your performance was nothing short of spectacular. Name any desire of yours and we will ensure it is granted."
With their noble praise echoing in the steamy chamber, their gazes expectantly on you, you took a deep breath and let it out slowly. You had made up your mind about what you wanted even before they made their offer.
"I would like to become Lord Stark's wife and to... repeat whatever this was at another point," you announced breezily. You felt Cregan's intake of breath against your back and heard Jacaerys' surprised laughter ringing out in the chamber.
"Oh, a bold request," Jacaerys laughed again, his eyes twinkling with both amusement and admiration. "You aim for the stars, my lady."
A soft rumble echoed from Cregan’s chest as he tightened his grip around your waist. There was an uncanny silence stretching out between the three of you; the only sounds filling the room were the gentle lapping of water against the stone walls and your own pounding heartbeat.
"Wife," Cregan repeated softly, running his rough fingers down your arm. His dark eyes met yours with a silent question, a spark of something undefined glowing in their depths.
"You are sure?" he asked gently, though there was anticipation beneath his calm facade. He looked at you intently, his grip on you tightening as if he was afraid you would slip away from him.
You nodded, looking straight into his eyes - your gaze unwavering. "Yes," you murmured, your voice firm despite the wonderment that was flowing inside you. "But on one condition."
Cautious curiosity reflected in Cregan's eyes as he nodded for you to continue. "And what would be that?" he questioned with a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips.
"That Jacaerys doesn't fade into the shadows," you said pointedly looking back at the prince who seemed taken aback by your statement. "I want him to continue being a part of... whatever this is."
Jacaerys blinked at you several times before letting out a surprised chuckle. "Well, my Lady," he drawled lazily, running a hand through your wet hair and hugged you from behind, kissing your cheek chastely, "who am I to deny us all such passion. Though next time a bed would be more comfortable, don't you think?""
Tags: @fairysluna @aemondtarqaryens
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asa-writes · 6 months
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Aphrodite of Old Hall - 07
"The Ton dissipates"
Anthony Bridgerton x F!OC / Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC 18+ MINORS DNI Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: alcohol and smut if you squint
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It hadn't stopped raining for over two days now and to add to insult, there was a beastly wind blowing through the grimy London streets. Elisabeth sat in front of the fireplace and read a book. It wasn't anything that interested her - Old Hall's libraries seemed only to contain religious and botanical books, much to her chagrin - so she looked up at every little sound, hoping someone would come in and talk to her. As always, her mind was all over the place. The sounds Anthony had made yesterday had turned everything inside of her into a hot, trembling jelly. Sweat dripping down his muscular chest and his strong arms holding her, roughly caressing her... She felt like a lovesick puppy. He was supposed to be the lovesick puppy, not her!
Putting the book down, she wandered over to her secretaire, out of which she pulled some of George's letters. At least he always knew right from wrong, maybe his words would bring her to her senses... Lifting the paper up to her lips, she tried smelling the perfume he had spritzed on it, but alas, it had faded away long ago. Like him, she thought and shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. He would've laughed at her sentimentality. Hearing gentle knocks on the door, she turned around to see a footman holding a silver tablet with a single red rose and a letter. "Milady, hand-delivered by Lord Anthony Bridgerton. He is waiting in the entrance hall." Damn. God damn that man, always coming to her when she thought of him.
She walked over to the footman and took the gifts. "Thank you. You may escort him up here." He went as quickly as he came, leaving her alone again, the wind howling around her sitting room, which Stephane had gracefully given her. Unclipping her pince-nez and straightening the front of her dress, she gave herself a small, reassuring smile and sat down on her settee, pulling her skirts in a way that looked more glamorous. The door opened and a wet, tousled Anthony walked in. "Good morning, Elisabeth, I hope I'm not disturbing you." Grinning, he walked up to her and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Elisabeth pushed him towards the chair next to the fire, shaking herself playfully like a wet dog. "Good morning to you too, you wet mop. Did you seriously just walk here in this weather? I'm surprised that you haven't been blown away."
Rolling his eyes, he grinned. "I have, just yesterday evening..." She shook her head, blushing. After a few silent seconds he pointed at her decanter of Schnapps. "That is not water, is it? I would strongly discourage you from drinking it. I wouldn't want you to get sick." Elisabeth grinned. "You believe me to be so foolish? Come, try a bit." Pouring him a short glass, she gracefully presented it to him. "Prost!", She said, winked at him and finished her own. Clearing his throat, he raised his eyebrows. "That was... Stronger than I expected." Giggling, she poured herself another one. "You'll get used to it. At least I hope you will - my cook prepares a mean schnapps pudding, which almost dissolves, for it is so drenched."
Anthony just shook his head and took off his jacket, trying to get it to dry in front of the fire. "Have you read my letter yet?", He asked rather impatiently. Sighing, Elisabeth shook her head. "Why-ever should I? You are here with me, you could just tell me!" Rolling his eyes, he gallantly offered to open it for her. "Gestures, not words, that's what you said, didn't you?" She nodded. "Well, then turn away please." He looked at her quizzically. "I wrote it for you, no need to hide anything from me." Bashfully looking down, she retrieved her pince-nez from her bedazzled black reticule. "I... I can't see well..." Damning his wet clothes, he stood up and sat next to her, carefully putting the ridiculously hideous things on her face. "There. No need to be ashamed, my dear. As long as you can see me without them..."
She looked up at him, her eyes bigger than teacups. He gently broke the wax seal and opened it for her, trying his hardest not to look at her. By god, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and known, but there was no way she would keep those if they were to be married. Surely, he could find someone to make a more agreeable pair for her. Then again, it didn't really matter that much to him. She knew, hopefully, what was best for her. "There you go, dearest."
"Unto my dearest Lady Elisabeth, Seeing as the majority of the Ton had scrambled away to their country estates, (there shall be no end in sight with this weather) I have decided to take my family and go to mine as well. May I take the liberty of inviting you to come with us? I had a most interesting talk with Benedict, who has told me that the die had been cast and that he shall not be courting you anymore. As soon as the weather will end, we will certainly return again, for Eloise has yet to find herself a suitor. Yours ever lovingly, longingly and adoringly, Lord Anthony Bridgerton P.S. Oh, might I add that your bedroom has a secret passage to mine that nobody knows of?"
It was most fascinating to watch her read; her eyes darted from one side to the other - she read faster than anyone else he had known. She gasped, blushed and fluttered her eyelashes. Quickly taking off her pince-nez before looking up at him, she beamed, her cheeks reddening gently. "I must thank you... You... you love me! When are we leaving? Are you sure that your family is alright with me coming with you? However might I repay you?" Anthony chuckled and kissed her. Her lips still tasted of (what he presumed to be cherry) schnapps. She looked so fascinatingly beautiful when she tripped over her own words, looking up at him like her life depended on it. Like yesterday...
"One after the other, Ellie. No need to thank me, my love. Yes, I love you... And have to damn myself for not telling you yesterday. We could leave now, if you would want us to, I am completely at your will. I am the family's head so no, they wouldn't mind at all. Do you even need to ask me about the repayment?", He said, whispering seductively at the end. Glancing at the windows, she quickly straddled him and took his face into her soft, gloveless hands. It took a lot of control to not just pick her up and lift her skirts... She did know how to drive him wild. "Anthony...", She whispered, caressing his cheek, "I'd be delighted. I'll tell my servants to prepare a suitcase. Until it is ready, I shall like to come with you to your house, so we could all leave together..."
He slid his hand along her thigh, looking at her face faltering as a look of pleasure had rolled over her. "Really? Looks like you enjoy this a lot more..." Stopping just short of her mons pubis, she took a sharp breath, quickly standing up and flattening her dress. With a sly grin, she shrugged. "We do have a long carriage ride in front of us and, not to mention, the connected bedrooms. Now, as I've said, would you like to escort me to your home?" In his mind, he would've very much liked to just do her on the floor, but having her teasing him was a thousand times better. Standing up and putting on his rather uncomfortably damp coat, he quickly walked up to her and smacked her beautifully plump buttocks. "Then that is what I'll do, dearest. Just you wait..."
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adorethedistance · 7 months
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First Date - Jamie Drysdale x Reader
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Hockey Masterlist
Warnings: swearing, mentions of homicide, sexual references.
Words: 1249
Summary: First date - Jamie invites you over and cooks dinner for your first date, complete with bottle service and banter.
A/n: Hey! I'm back! Summer classes kicked my ass so I promised this mini-series to make up for the lull in activity. You can read part 1 called "First Meet" here. Some other firsts coming soon (and by soon I mean eventually): first I love you, and first time.
“Hey!” 
“Hi!” I smile brightly as Jamie opens the door. After our smoothie shop meet cute, Jamie invited me over to have dinner and watch a movie, just to get to know each other a little better. He offered to take us somewhere nice but with how nervous I was in the smoothie shop, I figured staying in would minimize my nerves. Granted, I’m still nervous as hell, since he’s so cute and sweet. I feel an intense anxiety weighing on my chest. But Jamie just smiles brightly and the kindness in his features dissipates all my nerves in an instant.
Stepping aside, he welcomes me into the space. The first-date jitters are eased, yet not fleeting. After I cross the threshold, I gently kick off my shoes, smoothing the fabric of my skirt before following Jamie into a sizable kitchen space.
“I’m surprised the kitchen is so clean,” I say, mostly as a joke. Jamie laughs softly before turning the flame of the gas stove higher. The walls of the pan are high enough that I can’t see inside, but it smells great so I opt to trust the process.
“You should’ve seen it this morning,” I hear from behind me. Turning around Trevor smiles at me as he’s slipping on his shoes.
“I was gonna say.”
“That’s because Z is immune to doing dishes.”
“I am not!”
“You so are!’
“Who usually cooks?” I ask, interjecting their sibling-like argument.
“I do,” Jamie answers proudly.
“The way I’ve always done it is one person will cook, and the other does the dishes.”
“Hah!” Jamie argues.
“But that’s only if the meal is for both of you. If you make a meal for yourself then the dishes are also your responsibility.”
“Ayy!” Trevor calls out to spite Jamie who has fallen silent. His sheepish expression as he bites back a smile. I giggle softly at the exchange and shake my head before walking into the kitchen. “I’m going to the Terry’s, do I need to sleepover there, you two?” Jamie huffs a laugh, shaking his head. He’s somewhat stalling, as if he’s unsure of what to say. I seize the opportunity and without looking away from Jamie I yell back,
“We’ll keep you posted!” Jamie looks up surprised before blushing madly and turning back to the stove. “Do you need help with anything?” I ask as I stand beside him. Jamie glances at me over his left shoulder. He doesn’t fight the smile that appears on his face when I step closer. Jamie’s eyes get seemingly lost in my own and I blink smugly to bring him back down to earth.
“I’m working on searing this right now, but if you wanted to pour drinks?”
“I’m on it… Where are the cups?” Jamie laughs before nodding to a higher cabinet. I open the cabinet door, locating the drinking glasses on the middle shelf. The middle shelf that I am unsure of if I can reach unassisted. Looking back at Jamie, I see him sticking a thermometer into the food and decide not to bother him. I can totally do this.
I place my right hand on the cool countertop to brace myself, lifting up, stretching to reach the drinking glasses. I feel the smooth surface brush my fingertips, accidentally pushing the glass further back into the cabinet. “Fuck,” I swear under my breath, reaching with an extra stretch. The clink of the glasses against one another must have alerted Jamie as I feel his presence behind me. He gently places his left hand on my lower back and reaches above me to easily grab the glasses. He smells like crisp eucalyptus and lavender behind notes of beechwood and mint. I pull my lower lip in between my teeth to try and keep the thought from surfacing but, I could definitely get used to this. Jamie effortlessly grabs two glasses in one hand, offering them to me with a quaint smile. I guess looking at me allowed him to consciously process his actions as he immediately drops the hand that was on my back. His smile grows sheepish and I resist the urge to giggle at the blush creeping across his cheeks.
“Am I just pouring drinks or am I pouring drinks?” I ask, setting the glasses down to wash my hands. “Actually, are you even old enough to drink?” I playfully poke.
“I was twenty-one in April of this year, thank you!” Jamie teases back and I turn to him wide-eyed, trying to keep as straight of a face as I can.
“Oh my god, are you- you’re not… forty?!” 
“No, I am not forty. Are you?!”
“Yes!” Jamie looks at me in pretend sorrow before we both dissolve into laughter. Dropping my initial timidness, I physically relax my shoulders. When I open the refrigerator, the facade of cleanliness vanishes entirely. It is as messy and chaotic as I would expect the young boys to be. Take out boxes, abandoned vegetables, sculpins, and meat. Tucked in the door is a bottle of white wine with the cork and foil intact. Assuming that’s the drink Jamie selected for us, I grab the bottle and close the door behind me. 
“I’m guessing it’s the sancerre, right?” The sound of the bottle making contact with the counter alerts Jamie from the stove and he looks at me over his shoulder.  
“Yeah! Sorry, I don’t know why I didn’t just tell you what to grab.”
“All good. What are you working on over there?” The contents of the pan erupt with a sizzle as Jamie pokes his spatula into the pan.
“It’s a pan-seared butter chicken and roasted broccoli.” I crumple the gold foil in the palms of my hand before tossing it to the trashcan. I then turn back to Jamie, suppressing my astonishment.
“I have to admit I’m surprised you know how to make that.”
“Butter chicken?”
“No, the broccoli.” I say, keeping my face as straight as possible. Jamie and I lock eyes before laughing once more and returning to our tasks at hand. Our culinary symphony of sizzling poultry and the flowing of wine makes me smile, a blush creeps across my cheeks at the thought that comes next. I’m thinking of what it would be like to have a sort of domestic bliss with Jamie. A silent but content early morning where we would brew coffee and sit on the counters, laughing through chaste kisses. Eventually making dinner one night to introduce our friends over a meal, just sitting back and laughing at how Trevor would inevitably break his words per minute record while hosting. Dancing to Billie Eilish together, sliding in fuzzy socks over the cool tiles while trying to stay on task with chores. Jamie’s hand on my throat as he bends me over the counter to-
“What are you smiling about?” 
“Huh? What?” I say, blinking back into reality. 
“What were you smiling about?” Jamie asks, smugly.
“...I was thinking about how I’m gonna kill you later,” I declare just to wipe the smirk off Jamie’s face. 
“Uhhhh, Trevor?!” He yells into the empty hallway. 
“You really think he’s gonna save you?”
“Definitely not, but…”
“You just figured it was worth a try?”
“Yeah.”
“Mhm.” Jamie and I laugh through the quick back and forth before I hand him his glass of wine that I had just poured. He holds the cup out to me and I pause for a moment,
“Cheers to… new beginnings.”
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vigilante-izuku · 1 year
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i’m really not into the fandom’s characterization for asa emory (the collector). so here are a few of my hcs about the bug guy.
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HE’S LATINO. idc the dude who portrays him in the sequel isn’t. i’m ignoring it.
he’s weird. like he’s obviously a freak when he’s uh...collecting. but he’s a weirdo (affectionate).
he’s an entomologist, probably followed in his father’s footsteps and works in a museum.
has major daddy issues.
he’s a loner. doesn’t really speak much unless he has to. except when he’s talking about bugs, he gets really passionate and could talk for days on the subject.
doesn’t socialize with his coworkers either. (they’re creeped out by him. thinks he’s weird but harmless since he’s so gentle with the bugs. convinced he wouldn’t harm a fly. and they’re right he WOULDN’T harm flies. human beings on the other hand...
he’s bisexual but struggles with internalized homophobia.
the chemical exposure from the childhood incident with his father is why his eyes Look Like That. probably wears contacts to make his eyes look normal when he’s at his daytime job.
i cannot picture this man being charming and suave. he makes people uncomfortable (possibly on purpose, maybe he doesn’t even realize it). although will put on an act to slip under the radar.
you’re THE exception when it comes to his violence. this man is not the most affectionate. he’s cold and often stares at you like he’s examining a bug. but he loves you. obsessed with you. you’re his most prized part of his collection.
you’re not a former victim. in fact, he meets you somewhere outside of his collecting “hobby”.
he doesn’t understand why you’re different from everyone else. you make him feel like he does whenever he’s torturing his victims but without any actual torturing involved. just spending time with you is enough.
his house is unique. you fall in love with it the first time you accept his offer to come over. you admire all the strange knickknacks around. the pretty butterflies and moths pinned in shadow boxes. the vintage wallpaper. its charming and you immediately want to move in.
he doesn’t torture you. he doesn’t need to. he likes to tease tho, make you slightly uncomfortable just to watch you squirm but its harmless. and usually just has you yelling at him and rolling your eyes while he laughs.
he knows you’re frighten of bugs and he smiles whenever you call for him to come get a bug and take it outside.
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sapphic-sasuke · 17 days
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Hello it’s here!!! if you would like to read my hashimada fic🌹
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wthtorke · 1 year
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Coffee
Asa Emory (The Collector) x Gender-neutral Reader (because I just had to write another one lmao)
Warning for homicidal thoughts - Seen earlier on P4tre0n
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At first, it was a game. Asa didn’t think he’d get so invested in the house ‘playhouse’ thing. It also started as a personal challenge. Jokes and jabs were made at him by work colleagues who were only temporarily safe from his wrath for being too close to his…civilian form.
“Emory is going to die bitter and alone.” “Not even the spiders will handle such an old grouch.” “Professors party is next month Emory, no date to take yet? Did you ever have one?”
He decided to end things. He couldn’t end their lives just yet, but he could stop the rumors. Stop the pestering buzzing of flies that mocked him just outside his web. He’d get them in time.
But still, in order not to feel so pressured into doing it, Asa challenged himself. Could he fully morph into one of them briefly? Could he achieve the perfect disguise? His daytime mask wasn’t perfect, and he knew that.
Entomology wasn’t the most normal job out there. And while his house looked pleasant and well cared for on the outside, he still couldn’t hold off his deeper interests in the inside decor. He had flaws. Maybe this would stretch his ‘normal person’ muscles. Who knew?
And then he met you. Or well. He chose you. Old habits die hard.
He planned to keep things shallow and neutral. He didn’t want you coming over more than necessary, nor did he have any interest in going to your place that often. Too much effort.
What he didn’t plan, however, was that you would respect his privacy. And while Asa Emory, Ph.D. in entomology, hadn’t had many close, normal, lasting relationship experiences– He was pretty sure that’s not how things usually went. He also had not planned that whenever you did come to his place, you would be pleasant to be around.
Asa hated questions, especially from people he despised and especially from stupid people. Odd, given his job- but it was just how things were. Anything to keep appearances.
So he tightened his jaw the second you pointed your finger at his Five-Horned Rhinoceros beetle diorama. “Did you preserve that one yourself?”
He almost shifts on his feet, almost. Good question. “I didn’t. It was gifted to me by my college professor.” He hadn’t thought about him in months, even if the diorama was one of his favorites.
You smile, “Oh, that’s adorable.” Nothing about him was adorable other than the fact he liked to be adored. Like a God.
He thinks about killing you after that. Especially after you’ve had sex, especially now that you’re laying right beside him, dead asleep. Vulnerable.
You shift awake, and he doesn’t try to look away from you. He’s too focused to pretend right now. Still, you blink a couple of times and scoot closer to him. His hand twitches under the covers.
“Can’t sleep?” You ask. His eyes shift to your lips as you speak before coming back up. You smile, and whatever is going through your head right now definitely isn’t the same as his. But you still run your hand up his arm. It's almost like asking permission. Asa doesn’t like to be touched, but you learned that if he lets you touch up his arm, the rest should also be okay.
You learned fast. Maybe that's why you were still alive. He was still deciding if he was thankful for that or not. “Come here, then. It’s too late for staring.” You open your arms and use your hands to bring his shoulders closer to you. Closer to your chest.
He goes.
He scratches the thought of killing you after that.
While Asa was not one for getting unfocused- he did blink twice when the professor’s party email popped up in his inbox. And while you had been bringing coffee over, you sure felt concerned for whatever got Asa to blank so hard. You came to learn that 2 seconds was too long without a response from your entomologist. “Asa? Asa-?”
“I forgot about the Professor’s gathering.” He says. You slowly nod in understanding, “Ohhh…Were you obliged to do something for it?” You ask. He then remembers his coffee mug in your waiting hand. “No,” he takes the mug, “we just have to go.”
Your eyebrows do a little jump. “We?”
At this, he turns at you. “You’ve seen them before.” You nod, “Well, yeah- but only when we had a date after your shift- or when we had lunch together.”
“That’s what people in a relationship do.” He says, not trying to make you feel stupid, but almost like he was reassuring himself. You let out a soft laugh, “Yes, but I mean-. Look, I know you like your space, and your things- you don’t have to take me to a formal event because people think its the right thing-”
“But it is.” He counters. You grimace a little, taking a seat beside him at the kitchen table. “Depends-, do you want to go?” You ask him. He frowns.
He considers.
“No.”
You nod. “Then we don’t have to go.” You say, putting your hand over his on his leg. “How about we stay home and do something else? Or we can go somewhere else, or you could use that night to-”
“Stop.”
You freeze, swallowing your words as you retreat your hand from his. “Oh- sorry.” You look up again when he sets his mug on the table, barely having time to react when Asa’s hands cup your face and his lips close in on yours.
You lower your mug more and more as he continues to kiss you. Kissing him was always something different. Different doses of desire, roughness, and dominance. Different amounts of tenderness and care, and sometimes you swore you could feel something else. Only sometimes.
This was one of those times.
You blindly try to set your own mug on the table until his hand guides yours. His hand wraps around your arm and pulls you closer. And closer, and closer. Until you’re getting up from your chair and moving toward him.
Your chest touches his when you straddle his legs. His hand goes up in your hair while the other caresses your face. He breaks the kiss to look at you for a second. His eyes always had that power over you. The power to make you feel bare. Vulnerable.
Your breathing is strained from the kiss. His is from restraint.
He kisses your cheek and moves to your neck. The way he breathes close to your ear in between them makes your legs shake the tiniest bit.
When his hands hook under your thighs, your arms lock around his neck. He lifts you up, and you know what’s next. What you didn’t expect to hear was the small, barely audible “Thank you.” He whispered as he carried you upstairs.
Asa Emory had played himself.
He almost fell for it when your hand touched his in the kitchen. When you looked at him with all the honesty in the world over something so stupid. So willing to mold yourself to him.
But the feeling didn’t go away. Not after the sex, not after the sleep. Not for anything.
He wakes up, and you’re not there. The sheets are cold.
He gets dressed and goes downstairs. The smell of breakfast hits him like a train. Not many times did you both eat like this. At least not in the morning. And if you did, Asa made it. He always woke up first, made breakfast, and left it for you. He always left for work before you woke up. But this time it was different.
He didn't ask for it.
But Asa never had these small gestures of affection towards him. He always had to do shit alone. Always. He almost can’t believe his very eyes. And he definitely cannot believe he’s not -very- angry right now.
He’s standing at the kitchen entrance watching you making breakfast for you both when he realizes that he's in deeper than he thought.
When did you outsmart him? When did he let his guard down?
When did he start liking you this much?
Still, he should have known himself, his soft spot. You.
You were his soft spot. But still, he didn’t imagine it’d go so far. Had he always longed for this intimacy? Deep down? Maybe he did. Maybe the scared little boy did. But he had it now, hadn’t he?
"Alright, all done! And would you look at that, you actually have time to eat before going out! I-...Asa?"
Asa blinks when he hears his name, coming back to reality, "Hm?"
You smile. A soft, fond laugh escapes you as you shake your head. "Come on Mr. Emory, let's get some coffee in you".  You grab his hand, pulling him towards the table where everything is set.
He goes. Gladly.
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