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Into the Cricketverse

- Chapter Two -

Asa Emory (The Collector) x Cricket (OC) (NSFW)

Chapter One was written by the fabulously talented @slashhinginghasher and featured the first meeting between their OC Marena and my OC Cricket.

Below are the same events, but from Cricket’s POV.

Warnings: Violent oral, blood, and a not so polite reminder that Asa Emory is a terrible human being.

“Cricket.” Pausing mid-stitch, Cricket glances up from her spot on the floor, piles of half-folded laundry spread around her. Asa stands poised in the bedroom doorway, a spool of wire clutched in his hand.

“Yes, Sir?” The shank of the sewing needle dents her fingers with how tightly she pinches it between them. She hopes that wire isn’t for her….

“Pack a bag for yourself. Two weeks of clothes, a mix of casual and formal. It will be hot, so choose accordingly.”

Two weeks…a possible need for formal wear…hot weather…. Cricket perks up, eyebrows lifting in surprise.

“Clever little Cricket,” Asa murmurs. A smirk pulls at his lips as he stalks away. She waits until she can no longer hear his footsteps before jumping to her feet and returning the needle and thread to the sewing kit.

Halfway to the closet she slows, hands coming up to clasp one another. It’s been well over a year since she last saw Jesse and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t relieved. Life has been relatively peaceful, or as “peaceful” as it can get for someone in her situation.

Was this trip to be the end of that peace?

Carefully, she chooses outfits and lays them on the bed. What had Asa said?

‘Jesse has a new…distraction.’

She hadn’t asked what he meant, but if the fact they weren’t sleeping together anymore is anything to go by, that “distraction” is a new partner. Cricket wonders, briefly, if said partner is in a similar position as herself…or if they are even still alive. It had been over a year….

Is that why she and Asa have been summoned to Florida?

She shakes her head in an effort to clear her racing thoughts. There will be no answers to her questions, not until she happens upon them herself. Keeping her in the dark is Asa’s prerogative.

Cricket will keep her eyes on her feet as she always does until they’re forced to take in whatever horror lies directly in front of them.

Traffic had been terrible. Cricket’s nerves are already frayed, though not because of the seven vehicles that had cut them off. No, it was Asa’s iron grip on the steering wheel that had her fighting the trembling of her hands.

Every time she caught his shoulders tensing out of the corner of her eye, she would wince and when they finally pulled into the parking lot of Jesse’s penthouse, she could not get out of the car fast enough.

Cricket has no hope Asa’s mood will improve inside the building. She is not that naive. However, perhaps Jesse will draw the Collector’s ire instead and give her a chance to escape to the kitchen and make herself useful.

Cricket’s usefulness has always been her salvation.

It’s strange, walking into the penthouse after all this time like nothing has changed. Everything is as it was the last time she was here. Everything except—

“Marena.”

“Dr. Emory.”

Everything except the tiny, severe-looking woman on the far end of the room.

Her hair is dark and wild, unruly curls draped over half her face and concealing her other icy blue eye. Her clothes are modest and loose, but what Cricket can see of her skin is scarred. Her flesh tells the story of a brutal past…or of a relationship with Chromeskull.

The distraction.

The distraction’s name is Marena, and she is very much alive.

“Where is he?”

“Shower.”

Fearlessly, the woman—Marena—meets Asa’s frigid gaze with ice all her own. Cricket can feel the tension between them, can see it in the way Asa grips their bags like he’d crushed the steering wheel earlier. Her heart beats a furious tattoo against her ribs, the gears of her mind whirring as they work toward understanding.

Asa had seen Jesse more recently than she, had said he was “watching something” for Chromeskull. Cricket remembers the day clearly because Asa had made her stay overnight at the hotel. She does not look back upon that night with fondness.

The “something” must have been Marena. Whatever happened that night must have been heinous, based on their body language. The how and why, though tempting to investigate, will have to wait to be unpacked because if Cricket has to endure this growing hostility poisoning the air any longer she will scream.

She opens her mouth, but pauses. What will she say? Perhaps she’ll offer to make refreshments, or to unpack. Anything to flee to safer ground.

“As—

“Quiet,” Asa spits and Cricket recoils like she was struck. Her jaw pops with how quickly she closes her mouth.

Stupid mistake.

She’s trapped here now, stuck between a rock and hard place. Either Asa and Marena are going to lunge for each other’s throats, or….

Took your sweet time getting here.

Or Jesse will saunter in wearing nothing but silk boxers and make everything worse.

“You don’t get to lecture me about punctuality, Cromeans.” As unperturbed as always by Asa’s anger, Jesse’s shoulders shake as he meets Cricket’s timid gaze. She offers him a small smile, weirdly happy to see him despite everything, but she doesn’t dare move from her spot behind Asa.

Aw, don’t tell me you’re getting all shy on me now, Cricket.

She gives him a little wave, a quiet, “Hi,” but this greeting is apparently not good enough for the Collector.

“Manners, Cricket.” Her heart leaps into her throat. Another mistake.

“Sorry, Sir,” she murmurs, quickly scurrying around Asa to face Jesse fully. “It’s good to see you again, Daddy.”

There’s a horrible, hacking cough from across the room. Startled, Cricket whips her head to the side to see Marena coughing her lungs out. A quick glance at Jesse’s shit-eating grin makes her lower her gaze in dismay. The pet name must have upset her.

“There are so many things wrong with you,” Marena rasps. “What the fuck.”

It is abject horror that pulls the strangled gasp up and out of Cricket’s throat. Any second comes the bite, the knife, the discipline for such blatant disrespect��

“Don’t fucking touch me, god!” Cricket watches in silent shock as Marena tears herself out of Jesse’s grip and stomps away. She flinches when the bedroom door slams shut.

“You are far too lenient on her,” Asa comments irritably. Cricket catches herself wanting to agree, but quickly reminds herself normal relationships don’t include physical discipline.

Yeah, but she’s fun when she gets riled up like that, Jesse signs back, rolling his eyes when Asa undoubtably shoots him a withering look.

“You won’t be laughing when it’s your neck with a needle in it,” Asa snarls. He hoists the bags higher and strides away, muttering curses under his breath.

Marena stabbed him with a needle?! How is she still breathing? These next two weeks are going to be hell….

A warm finger on her chin makes her jump. Cricket looks up into Jesse’s scarred face, concern etched in her features. Her voice shakes when she asks, “Did I do something wrong?”

Not at all, doll. She’s just shy. Her worried expression briefly morphs into one of wry disbelief, which makes Jesse snort.

“And Sir is… okay? With that behavior?” Asa is most assuredly not “okay” with her behavior, but Cricket is more interested whatever agreement he and Jesse have reached regarding Marena.

Doesn’t matter if Asa likes it. She’s mine.

So…no agreement then. She supposes some tenuous truce has been reached, or maybe Asa wasn’t even aware Marena would be here….

“That time Sir left me at the hotel overnight, he said he had to watch something for you… that was her?” She is careful with this question, careful to keep her voice down, careful to address Asa properly. He wouldn’t like if she was asking questions, but there were so many that needed answers she couldn’t help herself.

With Jesse’s confirmation, she loses what little courage she’d managed to muster. Talking with Jesse had always been easier than talking with Asa, but even that had its limits. “Okay. Thank you, D—

Cricket pauses, the word poised on the edge of her tongue, awaiting clarification.

He signs, Just ‘Jesse’ to you now, doll. Unless you prefer it the other way, I won’t mind. Heat rises to her cheeks when he winks. She will not be making the mistake of calling him “Daddy” in front of Marena again.

“I should help Sir unpack,” Cricket announces, hurrying away before Jesse decides to get handsy. She would rather do anything else than be alone with Asa right now, but she doesn’t think he’d appreciate being left to do the unpacking by himself.

Bare feet pad quietly along chilly marble, the unease in her gut growing the closer she gets to the half-closed door ahead. Funny—she’s never stayed in the guest bedroom before….

Gently, Cricket eases the door open and pokes her head inside. A massive window runs along the far wall, offering a view of the setting sun and scantily-clad beach goers scurrying around below. Orange light pours through the curtains and Illuminates the ornate four poster. Next to it stands Asa, one of the duffels unzipped and already half unpacked.

“Can I help, Sir—

Asa cuts her off with a hand gesture: Arm outstretched, finger pointing at the ground. Cricket swallows thickly and hastily rushes to his side to kneel by his feet. He finishes what he was doing—hanging a shirt in the closet—before turning his attention to her.

Again, fingers—rough this time—find her chin to tip her head back. Cricket meets Asa’s dark, glittering gaze and she can almost hear what he’s thinking: You would never misbehave like that.

No, Sir, never. With wide, pleading eyes, she wills him to hear her thoughts. A calloused thumb ghosts across her cheek.

“Open your mouth, Cricket.” Ever obedient, she opens wide as Asa unbuckles his belt. Gentle fingers on the back of her head pull her closer while he guides his girth past her lips. She keeps her gaze locked devotedly on his.

Leisurely, Asa eases his cock deeper and deeper until it pushes into her throat. Cricket barely bats an eye when her nose comes to rest in the dark curls at his base, her gag reflex now all but trained away.

Unfortunately for Cricket, it is this ease that makes it possible for Asa to roughly grip both sides of her head, rear back, and savagely slam forward. The sickening crunch as her nose breaks against his pelvis is audible in the quiet room.

It is sheer will to live that stops Cricket from biting down when blinding agony explodes up through her skull. Her scream, muffled by the length seated in her throat, turns into a miserable gurgle when thick, viscous blood pours from her nostrils and into her throat. Tears blur her vision and streak down her face, mascara and eyeliner following soon after.

“Good girl, hang in there,” Asa coos, bucking his hips to fuck her throat. Cricket sobs and tenses and shakes, every movement jostling her nose and sending nauseating anguish ricocheting around in her aching skull. Sticky crimson and drool drip from her chin to stain her dress and block her airway. With no way to draw in oxygen, her lungs soon burn their protest while she fights the urge to thrash. In her lap, her nails dig bloody crescents into her palms.

Cricket’s head spins as her eyesight narrows. The wet squelching of her mouth sounds far away, as though it’s happening to someone else. Eyelids flutter….

Above her, Asa stills, a groan sticking in his throat when he finally spills into hers. Cricket’s head is released and she tips back, catching herself on her hands while gulping down air. She hacks and spits and cries, quivering fingers coming up to cradle her tender face.

Footsteps departing. He’s leaving…but then he returns not a minute later. A hand on her shoulder makes her jerk away, but Asa grips her tight and tugs her hands from her face. A cold, wet cloth dabs at the blood leaking from her nose. Cricket forces her teary eyes open.

Asa’s expression is blank. He assesses her injury with the same cool apathy he shows all his victims. He cleans her up like he would a specimen, his movements unhurried and deliberate.

Then, his gaze meets hers again. A shudder ripples up Cricket’s back. The message in that dark stare is as plain as day:

You would never misbehave like that because I could do so, so much worse.

#the way i fucking SPRINTED when i got this notification #poor cricket i'm so sorry #marena should stab asa again #others ocs #cricketverse

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