#dark!steve kemp
Text
YOU
—Art Collector!Steve Kemp x F!Reader
Summary — Your unexpected meeting with the famous art collector takes a dark turn when you learn the secret of his private collection.
Warnings — oral (female receiving), dismembered bodies, disrespect to the dead, entrapment, plots of killing, serial killer vibes, Steve being a calm psycho. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.
Word Count — 5.4K
A/N — Story #1 for my FREAKtober Fest. The fic was heavily inspired by the movie itself and House of Wax. I'm happy to finally explore Steve's character in writing and I must say, I enjoyed every bit of it. The title was taken from the song You.
Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp
Shout out to @vellicore and @sgt-seabass for bouncing ideas with me and being my beta.
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️
They didn’t come.
It was all you could think about as almost 2 hours had passed since your grad show started. Despite your parents’ — mostly your mom’s — disapproval of pursuing an arts program, you still invited them to the show. You hoped that if they saw what you were truly doing, they would understand your passion for paints and charcoal.
But it was a long shot, and you knew that. Though at least you tried…right?
You envy your classmates who carry bouquets while they present their artwork to their families and strangers alike. You were lucky enough to have a few come by your cubicle, delighted to explain the medium and process of your work. Some seemed genuinely intrigued while others, you can tell, only came by and endured your talk for the free stickers you offered at the end of your spiels.
Another hour passes by and you look up front when you hear an announcement being made by your instructor; a class photo. You’re reluctant to join, seeing no value in such a thing to be done as it’s obvious that once the day ends, they will be strangers once again. But another adamant call from your instructor has you heading to the front, a frown forming on your face when you’re pushed at the back, towered by your classmates—unseen once more.
As parents and several others grab the opportunity to take a photo, your eyes suddenly divert back to your cubicle when you see someone looking over at your main art piece. You can’t put a pin on his face but you know you’ve seen him before.
Once the group photo has ended, you immediately head back to your spot, catching the familiar stranger taking one of your stickers as well as a business card that sits beside it. It’s when you finally recognize him—and you’re in utter shock that he would be looking at your work. He finally notices you, a smile on his face as he holds out his hand.
“Hi.” He begins, “I’m—”
“You’re Steve Kemp.” You finish for him, the confidence you suddenly displayed startling the both of you. But you push on when you see a smile of amusement on his face, taking his hand to shake. “You’re the famous art collector.” You wouldn’t have known it was him with how dressed down he looked with the corduroy jacket and navy jeans, but you’ve seen his face several times in art articles that you wouldn’t miss it.
“I wouldn’t say I’m famous.” He humbles himself but he lacks the conviction to make it believable. “I think I’m just skilled in finding pretty things—like this one.” He gestures towards your charcoal painting, the look of interest evident on his face. “What compelled you to incorporate a whale and an astronaut? What’s the story behind it?”
His question makes you smile. Maybe he is interested, you think to yourself and look towards your artwork before diving deep into your answer.
“The artwork was inspired by the 52 Hertz Whale.” You begin. “Just to give you a little background; out of all the whale species, it’s the only one that makes a call with such a distinct pitch. Researchers had guessed that it could be a hybrid of two whale species but any attempts to search for the creature for further study have failed. Though some have been saying that it’s not a whale but an entirely different animal.
“Loneliness was the main theme of the piece—just like the whale, if it truly exists, it is alone in the vast sea; with no family to call its own and with it being different from the others, no one would listen or understand their cries. Akin to the lonely astronaut floating in the endless void of space. Though the flowers and the seagull represent hope and freedom—that one day, everything they thought to be true would change, that someone is there to listen and welcome them in their arms.”
You feel yourself shiver and your heart race as you end your interpretation. How the art piece truly mirrors your life and your cry for recognition from the people who truly matter. You try your best not to shed the tears that well in your eyes, presenting the collector with a smile and hoping he sees it as passion and confidence.
But the look on his face startles you; there’s no judgment but you see a hint of amusement in his sapphire eyes. You think he’s about to say something, to comment on what you said, instead, he looks back at the artwork, seemingly appraising it.
“How much?” The question stuns you. Did you hear correctly?
“I’m sorry?”
“I want to buy your art piece.” He expounds. “How much are you selling it for?”
That’s the last thing you expected to be asked in a college grad show. Was he seriously wanting to purchase it? You try to answer, to tell him that you’re not really looking for buyers nor expecting to sell any of your work but no words come out of your mouth, still taken aback by his surprising inquiry.
“I don’t—” You stutter. “I’m not really—”
The chuckle he makes has you pulling on the cuffs of your oversized flannel, feeling slightly anxious at the thought that he’s making fun of your state of shock. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He says with a smile, one that you mimic if only to ease the tension building within you. “But I am serious. I do want to buy it.”
Still, you don’t know what to say. Do you just give him an amount and call it a day?
“Why don’t you sit on it? Let’s say two days and I can give you a call for your price.” He holds up your business card between two fingers, the smile on his face turning into a playful smirk. “What do you say?”
Under-dressed.
Not that it was a concern you realistically should have but the patrons of the bar made you feel as such with the men clad in suit jackets and the women, either in dresses or whatever you call the style of attire that was classier than your hoodie-jeans-sneakers combo. At least you brought a coat—that’s fancy enough, right?
You nurse your Bellini cocktail and thumb through your phone while waiting for Steve, popping your conversation thread with him every second or two just to assure yourself that he confirmed, or rather, planned the night of drinks to discuss your “Lonely Whale” piece as he coined it. It seemed odd at first but his determination was what compelled you to agree to meet him.
The hiss of the straw fills your ears as you suck the last dregs of your drink. You shouldn’t have come early, you tell yourself, then you wouldn’t need to order another glass to accompany you on your wait.
“Need a top-up?” A familiar voice from behind startles you and you look up to see Steve, decorated in a maroon wool sweater and that tantalizing smile he seems to always have. “I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad coming here to this part of town.” He says as he takes a seat beside you in the booth.
You scoot over to give him room, surprised that he didn’t take the one across from you. “Please, don’t be sorry. I wasn’t waiting long.” You assure him with a soft smile, tapping a finger on the rim of your glass. “The drink kept me company.”
“Are they any good?” He asks but he’s already called the attention of a server before you can even reply. He orders a Bloody Mary—quite peculiar, you think, but you’re not one to judge someone's preference. “And the lady will have another, please.”
Silence envelops the both of you as you wait for the drinks to arrive, feeling shy and anxious when he rests his arm against the back of the booth and turns in his seat to face you. You’re not used to being seen yet here’s this man, well-known in the field you didn’t think to excel in giving you such unwarranted attention.
“Uhmm, so I asked my instructor about the painting,” you begin as you try to break the ice, “and he said that—” but stop when he shakes his head and lets out a gentle laugh.
You think he’s playing at your lack of knowledge of these types of transactions that it makes you second-guess your words. Maybe you should have come off more confident and prevented showing him an inkling of your cluelessness. But the smile he sends your way speaks of something different. There is no presence of ill-intent yet you still keep your guard up.
“We can talk business later. I’d like to get to know the artist more first.” He says and for some reason, it could be how comfortable he seems to be around you, that you nod at his request, a soft smile forming on your lips.
“Well, what do you want to know?”
Giggling.
It’s been a while since you’ve done it but you guess after 4 glasses of the Bellini and a sip of his Bloody Mary, anyone would be in a lighter and more carefree mood. Just like how you are.
The anxiety that filled you when you first walked into the bar seems non-existent with how well Steve carries a conversation. He listened to you complain and laughed at your sarcastic comments, throwing back another to keep the exchange alive. There was no dull moment to be recorded, only understanding when you shared the struggle of an art student living in a fast-paced environment. He’s probably the first person in your life who knows almost everything there is to know about you and even if he is a total stranger, he feels more familiar than any other.
The night rolls by quicker than you’d hoped and the next thing you know you’re in his car, the alcohol messing with you as you begin belting out garbled lyrics to an Adele song. You’ve never felt so free and relaxed, and who would have thought you’d find it in someone who simply wants to buy your art project?
You arrive shortly at your apartment building, a curious thought passing through your head as you don’t recall typing in your address in the GPS. But it goes just as quickly as it came when the passenger door is opened and Steve holds out a hand to help you out.
He says your name, the syllables rolling like honey on his tongue and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the way the moon shines against his face, but you truly notice how his sapphire eyes glow brighter with how close he stands to you, his cologne permeating your senses and his warmth mixing with yours, keeping away the cold autumn breeze of the night that surrounds the both of you.
“I had a lovely evening.” He breathes, allowing him to take your hand in his. “And I don’t want it to end just yet.”
And it doesn’t.
You invite Steve into your apartment for coffee, something to help completely sober him up and drive home safe. But as soon as you close the door and toe off your shoes, his hands are on your face and his lips capture yours, a soft grunt escaping you when he presses you against the door. You’re too stunned to process that he’s kissing you, only finally realizing it when he breaks the kiss and looks at you with his eyes so blue.
You think he’s about to speak, to apologize for his forwardness, but instead he smiles while his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. You don’t understand what he sees in you to warrant such soft affection, or to even consider you as someone to kiss.
He leans closer once more, this time you sense the apprehension in his movements and with the way his eyes linger on your face. You shut your brain off completely, not wanting reason and rationality to stop whatever force that was pulling you together. So you meet him halfway, hands resting against his chest when you press your lips against his, a moan escaping you as when you feel him pull you further into the kiss.
To say he was a good kisser was an understatement with the way his wet muscle caressed your own and how his lips wrestle you into a passionate exchange. He chuckles when he bumps against a side table while walking backwards, blindly into the living room, hands pawing at each other, groping, touching, and you lift up his sweater as the desire to feel his skin blooms in your head.
But he doesn’t give you that chance as you drop back onto your loveseat couch, Steve’s hands pushing up your hoodie to expose the tank top hidden within. His fingers tickle your skin, teasing, taunting, and in one swift move he pulls down the cups of your bra having your tits spill out from them.
Mewls and moans are the only sounds that leave your lips, coherent words nonexistent with how his lips wrap around a mound, sucking, licking, and dampening the fabric to expose your stiff nipples which he gives his undivided attention to. You try to reach for him, to at least make sure that this is all real and not a dream, but his hands take yours, preventing you from even running your finger through his dark hair, the act only heightening your senses further.
But his venture to your breasts eventually stops and you look down at him when he trails butterfly kisses against your stomach, hands releasing yours only to undo the button and fly of your jeans. The garment flies but your panties stay, and you swear you could almost combust just from the way he looks at you—his eyes swirling with hunger, eagerness, and desperation for a taste.
Slowly, he trails kisses against your inner thighs, lips, and teeth meeting skin, not hard enough to hurt but enough to feel. The nervousness swirls around you like twine, making your heart beat loudly against your chest as everything feels too new, too alien, despite this no longer being your first. But you’ve never encountered anyone as captivating as Steve and you feel as if he would run away once he sees you completely.
“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers into the air, his warm breath grazing against your heated core.
It’s only then you comprehend what he’s done, your panties pushed to the side to expose you completely before him and all at once you feel your body burn when he laves his tongue against your pussy lips, gentle at first, testing the waters which shift to intent as he pushes them apart with his fingers, your sacred bud caressed by his expert tongue.
You whisper his name as he begins delving into your pussy, strong hands keeping your thighs apart and pushing them down against the couch with his groans of pleasure filling your ears and fueling your desire for him. You reach down to run your fingers through his hair which you end up grabbing as a gasp is pulled from your lungs when he begins to suck your clit.
The room feels like it's spinning with the ecstasy that climbs higher within your body, your senses no longer feeling like your own as Steve pushes on with his pursuit, his mouth dancing beautifully against your clit, his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. But he stops, and a small wave of panic arises in your chest. Though it washes away like footprints on the sand when he ventures lower, his thumb taking purchase of your clit, rolling and adding pressure while his mouth ventures lower, teasing your slit at first before slowly pushing inside.
Oh, how your body sings. Your back arches from the coach and you call out his name, louder this time, turning into a moaning mess as his regard to your cunt never wavers. You then feel the dam filling up at the pit of your stomach and all you can do is buck your hips against his mouth, encouraging—no—pushing him to pull you over the edge.
“Steve—” It’s all you manage to say, your breath catching in your throat.
His actions then become erratic, as if he can feel you teetering towards your peak, pulling you more to his mouth and devouring you whole. Sloppy, wet sounds of his mouth echo from below your waist, Steve letting out a low and guttural growl which only sets you ablaze. His thumb pushes more onto your clit, the pressure digging into your pelvis and finally having the dam at the pit of your abdomen burst.
Your body shakes and you grab onto Steve as your pussy walls flutter from your release, choking a sob as your sweet essence flows out of you. His awaiting mouth then laps each and every drop you offer, the sensation making you shiver yet at the same time cocoons you in euphoric bliss.
The alcohol in your system then appears, mixing with the pleasure that continues to loom around you, and your eyes begin to droop, a smile forming on your lips. Your limbs ache deliciously, cunt buzzing from the orgasm that has taken over. You feel tired all of a sudden but happy at the same time and you forget all, even Steve, as you’re ready to end the night with such a good note.
But a tap on your thigh pulls you from the serene moment, startling slightly to see Steve looking down at you with a grin painted on his face. “Stay awake, Baby.” He says, his hand running up your side and grabbing the hem of your hoodie. “I’m not yet done with you.”
Nervous.
It’s all you feel as you stand outside of Steve’s home—if you could even call it that. With the modern exterior and floor-to-ceiling windows of the one-story home, you’d think you’re about to enter a museum. But it’s only reasonable for him to have such a lavish abode; he is an art collector after all.
“You okay?” You turn your head to the side to face him when he stands beside you, his warmth brushing against your skin as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close.
“A bit—but more excited really.” You tell him, the giddiness of seeing his private collection dominating the restlessness you felt earlier.
“Only the people who matter have seen it.” The smile he gives you is so contagious that you give one back and follow him inside his home.
After the night spent at your apartment, your life slowly revolved around Steve. Mornings begin and nights end with him and his attentiveness—one that you found more endearing than suffocating, as what some people you assume would say if they knew of your relationship.
You don’t even know if you both have a relationship as neither of you discussed anything about labels, simply enjoying each other’s company. But you know that Steve has rooted himself deep in you, and you know that no matter how hard you try if anything comes that would sever you both, you’d have a hard time letting him go. Steve is the only one who has truly seen you and accepted you as you are.
A chill brushes your skin when you pass through the threshold of his home which has you pulling your knitted jacket more around your frame for warmth, and the first thing you see are the gallery lights mounted on the wall, with each one shining down on art pieces of different forms. The ones that stand by the door are wax figures of a woman’s pair of legs, one on each side. You look at it closely, the craftsmanship so intricate that you’d think it was real. The ones that come after it are different sets of arms and hands of women, again, each one posed differently and elegantly, as if welcoming you further down the hall.
It gives you pause with how unusual of a collection it is—women’s body parts—but you suppose that the world of art is filled with oddities. There was even one you heard who collects glass eyeballs, not caring if it was worn or not.
What greets you next are several paintings—if you can even call it as such—that litter the wall just the same, though you’ve never seen anything like it; one is of a canvas that houses different strands of hair that form into waves. You’re in awe with how they mimic the raging seas and how detailed and time consuming it must have been to complete. There’s even an image of a boat topped over it, as you inspect closely, you assume is made of leather.
There’s another like it, though this seemed more like a showcase of all types of tresses, spaced out perfectly in rows of five. Each one portrayed a distinct person, with colors ranging from blonde to black and textures from curly to the straightest you’ve seen. The urge to touch it grows strong, wanting to check if they’re real or not.
“They’re real,” Steve answers your unspoken question, and you turn back to face him, feeling shy all of a sudden when you see him staring at you. “I call it live art.”
“You made this?”
“Oh, no.” He smiles as he nears the artwork, Steve’s hands tucked inside his pockets while he looks up at it. “I had it made. Though I did provide the materials—volunteers donated the hair.” His explanation has you thinking; you never knew people would donate something so personal for art. “I’m hoping to add more to the collection—a prized one that can be my center of attention.” He says and you catch him looking at you from your periphery.
“What kind of prized piece?” You ask, curiosity nipping at the back of your head.
“Something I could never get tired of looking at.” The smile he gives you sends a chill up your spine but your mind flows out into a daze when he steps forward and takes your face between his hands, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. “Like you.” He whispers and you can’t help but feel your face heat up with how beautiful he makes you feel.
“Come on. There’s more in the living room and I wanted to show you where I would place your painting.” He says, giving you one last kiss before taking your hand and leading further inside. But you don’t miss the piece that sits just at the end of the hall; a torso of a woman, the composition almost similar to Alexndros’ Venus de Milo, except this one was missing its head.
The living room is a sunken living room and it’s just as exquisite as the front of the house with paintings and figurines scattered in an organized fashion. Two couches sit on either side of a low table with a small cart that holds an array of spirits. You look around, mesmerized at the beauty he keeps within but stop when you notice a small greek style column sitting in the corner of the room.
“What’s that?” You ask, pointing at the unusual fixture.
“That’s just a chair a friend of mine made.” He responds while pouring the both of you some drinks. “It’s pretty cozy even if it’s made out of stone. Why don’t you try it out? Pretend you’re an art piece.” He urges and the giddiness you feel allows you to humor him.
Soft jazz music then begins to play as you run your hand against the top, having a feel of the material before you take a seat, grabbing onto the sides to properly set yourself on top of it. The smile you catch on Steve’s face is wide as he approaches you and hands you your drink, his hand reaching up to caress your face.
“You look perfect on it.” He sips on his drink and so do you.
You can’t help but look at his eyes, how soft they look yet full of amidst the muted lighting that surrounds the both of you. You feel his hands continue to linger on your skin, resting gently on your shoulder with his thumb caressing the expanse of your neck.
“Dance with me.”
It’s all he says and you don’t have time to respond when he takes the glass from your grasp, setting both of them on the shelf that stands nearby and he reaches for you, his hands taking yours and placing them over his shoulders while his own finds purchase around your waist.
It feels like you’re walking on clouds with how he sways the both of you, his movements in sync with the music that fills the air. He holds you close, feeling his fingers drumming lightly on your back and how your feet follow him aimlessly, blindly with each step he makes. You’re suddenly aware of the intimacy that slowly winds the both of you, much different from the times he’s slept on your bed, and you feel shy, eyes casting down to stare at the edge of his navy turtleneck.
“Don’t hide from me, Baby,” He breathes softly, tilting your head back when he pinches your chin and feeling the warmth of his breath ghost against your lips. “I want to see you.”
Giddy.
It’s the only feeling you describe as soon as you wake up, your body sore but in a good way and the sheets atop the mattress warm, not just because of you but from the man that sleeps soundly at your side. You turn to face Steve and examine his face, his beautiful pointed nose and his dark hair askew from the pillow underneath his head.
You couldn’t believe your luck that someone like him would find interest in someone like you. You must have done something good in your previous life to feel such happiness that the neglect and disapproval you once received from the people you expected to love you is being provided by someone you’ve barely known for a week.
Good things come to an end, you hear the pessimist in you say but you push it down, deep down where you cannot hear its cry. You’re going to enjoy this, whatever this is, and if time comes that it should indeed come to a stop—well, you’ll cross the bridge when you get there.
You move to cuddle closer to Steve, wanting to feel more of his warmth but it’s interrupted by your need for relief that you settle on placing a kiss on his forehead before turning to leave the bed and find the restroom.
Washing your hands when you finish, you find a robe hanging at the back of the door and boldly take it, putting it around you to shield you from the cold that continues to circulate within the house and venture back to his room—back to Steve’s arms. Except the lone light that shines in the darkness catches your eyes and you glance towards the bedroom. You don’t want to be caught snooping but the call of the void is too strong for you to ignore.
Silently, you pad down the hall and find yourself face to face with a staircase that leads to a closed door. Must be the basement, you think to yourself, taking one step at a time, you descend to your destination. You hesitate to hold the knob, not wanting to spoil your welcome but you soldier on, pushing through the barrier.
A row of yellow muted light illuminates the entryway, and you see nothing but several black barrels neatly pushed against the wall and a few scrubs hanging from mounted hooks. You thought you would see more artwork but are left disappointed, deciding to turn back but the white light at the end of the room stops you, curiosity once more taking over your senses.
Fear then grips you tight when you step into the light, hands flying to your mouth and a gasp unwillingly escaping you when you see a woman laid down on a metal table with her lower half missing and her head free of her scalp. What hangs on the wall makes your stomach turn even further, body parts—arms, legs and a severed head coated in something you can only assume to be wax.
You run. Your heart beats hard against your chest as you make it back again to the door and close it as quietly as you can, not wanting to awaken your host—a monster you never thought him to be. Carefully, though quickly, you climb the steps and the only thing you could think of is to leave and run as far as you can where he cannot find you.
Relief slowly washes over you when you get to the last step. Now all you have to do is go—call the authorities and—your thoughts take a dive when you feel someone grab you by the waist, trapping your arms along with it and a hand covering over your mouth as well as your nose.
“Where were you, Baby?” Steve’s calm voice forms from behind and your panic only rises further. You struggle against his hold, flailing as much as you can for him to let you go but he’s too strong and you feel the tears spill from your eyes as you think that this is the end. He’s caught you. You’re going to die.
“You never should have seen that.” He simply says and you grunt when a stabbing pain forms on your neck, a cool sensation flowing through your veins.
It’s then that he lets you go, your hand flying to where you felt the sting before turning to look at him. What did he do to you? You notice the syringe in his hand. Is it poison? Your vision almost instantly goes blurry, your limbs heavy and you drop to the floor, eyes cast to the ceiling as you try to make out your current state. The last thing you see is Steve, a sinister smile on his face and incoherent words coming from his lips before everything goes dark.
You’re dead.
It’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you come to. Everything slowly comes into clarity; the room you’re in is somewhere you’ve not been and the cool metal you feel around your ankle only solidifies the fact that he’s successfully trapped you in the hell he dwells in.
A door opens and closes and you curl up small on the bed you lay in to hide yourself from him. You’re crying once again a multitude of emotions surge from within—is it fear? Hopelessness? Anger? Towards him for lying to you or to yourself for believing him.
“I never wanted you to find out this way.” He sighs. “I never wanted you to find out at all.”
“Are you going to kill me?” You can’t help but ask, even though you know what the answer is.
“Not yet.” His calm in his voice brings a chill to your spine. “Despite what you believe, I meant what I said; you matter to—”
“Stop lying to me!” You shout and sit up from the bed, grabbing the pillow on the bed and throwing it at him. “Why are you doing this?! What did I do to deserve this?! Why me?!” You shout, the anger that was settling in your bones turns into a raging fire. You go to lunge for him, wanting to rip his skin with your bare hands but the cuff on your foot stops you, making you fall to the ground in front of him.
He tuts and you see his leather shoes in front of you. A groan then leaves your tongue when he grabs you by your face, your hand taking hold of his wrist as you try to pull away from him. But he only pinches tighter, making you shout in pain that fades all too quickly when he shakes you and makes you face him dead in the eyes.
“The more you fight, the harder it’ll be.” He snips. “I enjoy you a lot—don’t make me kill you so soon.”
“Just fucking do it!” You spit. “Do it! Kill me now!”
The laugh he gives you is menacing. He shakes his head, his other hand moving to run his finger on the side of your face. You see the darkness swirling around the sapphires of his eyes and you question yourself why, for the many times he’s stared at you, you’ve never seen it before.
“Soon.” He promises. “For now, I’ll keep you. I don’t mind that column being empty just a little longer.”
#steve kemp#steve kemp x reader#steve kemp x f!reader#dark steve kemp#dark!steve kemp#you#fresh#fresh the movie#sebastian stan characters#dark fic#horror fic#beanie's freaktober fest#freaktober fest#shadeysprings fics
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Don't Speak 45
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)
Character: librarian!Andy Barber
Note: took a while.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
When Ann leaves, you don’t move. You can’t. The ceiling light shines down on you, glimmering with your tears as they tremble along your eyelids.
Naked and used, you melt into the mattress, a part of it, a thing just like it. You don’t know how long you stay like that. The white ceiling turns your vision spotty as your eyes go out of focus. No sounds can reach you as your ears close to the world. Your existence is empty. You are the toy Ann claimed you as.
Your eyes close out of sheer exhaustion. Your head thumps with the shallow sleep that falls upon you. It’s less than restful, more an unfeeling trance, as you stay torturously chained to your reality.
There’s a creak and a click. You feel a shift and something warm touches your arm. A rustle sends a shiver across your body and warmth settles over you. Your eyes roll open as a figure sits at the edge of the bed. You wince as Steve’s large hand closes around your shoulder. He squeezes as he gazes down at you.
“You need anything, sweetie?” He asks softly.
You don’t answer. You just blink. He exhales and lets you go as he stands. He turns on the lamp and retreats to shut off the overhead light. He returns to you as a hazy shadow.
He lowers himself again, the bed dipping beneath him. You struggle to move your stiff arms, hugging yourself beneath the blanket as your teeth chatter. He tickles along your forehead and hums.
“I’m sorry about Ann,” he says, “she shouldn’t have said all that.”
You stare up at him. It’s okay. Is it? You don’t know.
“I... you know you’re more to me than that, right?” He pets your cheek. His touch doesn’t make your skin crawl like Ann’s. His body heat melds into you, enshrining you. You can’t help but lean into his hand. “You liked it, didn’t you? You wanted it? I felt you. I felt how much you liked it.”
You lower your lashes and wiggle your nose. You nod. Even then, a flicker of the thrill rises in you at the though of him inside of you. It wasn’t bad at all. Scary but not bad. Not compared to Andy.
“I shouldn’t have run away like that, honey--”
You flinch and grab his hand. You latch on tightly and shake your head, “don’t... don’t call me honey.”
His cheeks dimple and his eyes brows slant. His expression softens and he nods, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay,” you croak, clinging to his hand as you feel his thick fingers. He’s so much bigger than you but it doesn’t scare you.
“I meant to stay. I wanted to. To hold you but I... Ann can be a lot, can’t she?”
Your eyes round and you clamp your lips shut. You don’t say a word. He curls his fingers around the tips of yours.
“Did she hurt you?” He rasps.
You look at him. He’s so handsome. Just as handsome as always.
“A little,” you murmur.
His face falls and he dips his head down. He lets out a long breath, “I won’t let her do that again.”
“Okay,” your eyes wander over to watch his hand. The way he holds onto you makes your insides dance.
“Sweetie,” he intones, “can I.... can I hold you now?”
Your gaze flits back to him. You quiver as you bob your head up and down, “please.”
A soft smile curls his lips. He shifts carefully and reluctantly untangles his hand from yours. He lifts the edge of the blanket as he angles his body straight, parallel to yours. He wears only a pair of boxers and a dark red tee.
As he rests on his shoulder, he leans back to the lamp and flicks the switch. The room darkens as he rolls back to you. He slides his arm beneath you, jostling you just a little. He presses flush to your side and rests his other hand on your stomach.
“How’s that, sweetie?”
You shiver and turn onto your side. You loop your arm around him and nestle your head against his chest. You wiggle closer, desperately holding onto him as you close your eyes.
“I like it,” you inhale his scent, the faint medley of cologne and his sweat.
“I like it too,” he runs his hand up and down your back.
You press your hand to his back, “next time... can it just be us?”
He’s quiet. You can hear his heart beat and your own. His hand crawls up to pet your head.
“Sure, sweetie, we can figure it out.”
🕊️
You’re awaken as Steve lets in a flow of cold air. Your arm slips limply onto the bed as he stands in the pale dim, the curtains lit by early morning. You murmur and rub your sleepy eyes as you sit up.
“Sweetie,” he reaches to tug the blanket up your torso, “you should cover up.”
You hug the blanket in embarrassment and keep it above your chest. He pushes his hair back and sniffs, inhaling deeply before huffing it out. You shimmy to the edge of the bed as he backs away.
“Steve?” You babble dumbly.
“Gotta get breakfast for the kids,” he keeps his voice low. He stops near the foot of the bed, “you should stay in here. I’ll bring you some.”
“Oh?” You utter.
“You had a long night,” he says, “and they’re loud in the mornings. Once Ann takes them off to school, we can... we can be together.”
You hang your head, “okay.”
“Promise,” he avows, “you need to sleep, huh?”
You nod and lay back down. He clears his throat and you listen to his footfalls retreat to the door. He opens and shuts it softly. You curl up on your side and watch the shadows that line the baseboards.
You just need to wait. That’s all. He’ll be back and then you can be together. Just you two.
Your breath catches as the night before flood into your mind. Ann’s dusky voice tickles up the shell of your ear and her words make you shrink. The way she spoke, not just what she said, it made you feel so small, like nothing. To her, you were just a thing to be used and that’s what she did.
You close your eyes and pull the blanket tight. You think of Steve and the warmth of him chases away the icy memories. You remember how his cheeks were slightly rosy and the way he felt buried in you. You made him like that. You made him grunt and groan and then he... finished. Inside of you.
You reach down between your legs and delve your fingers between your folds. You bite your lip and hum. You press your fingers against your clit as it thrums and clamp your hand between your thighs. You keep it there as your body relaxes. Thoughts of Steve coax you back into a half-sleep.
Between fantasies of his hands and his chest and his smile, you hear voices. Some chirpy, some even, all muffled on the other side of the walls and your subconscious. You sway on the tide of your fatigue, letting it carry you away from the turmoil storming at the back of your mind.
When you’re next awoken, it’s Steve. As promised, he has breakfast. He sets a plate on the night table and pulls open the curtains tot let in the day. You sit up and the blanket once more unveils your nakedness. It doesn’t bother you like it used to.
“Sweetie,” he sighs.
He goes around the bed and finds your duffle on the chair. He takes out one of your shirts and brings it to you. You look down meekly and pull it on.
“Hope you like pancakes,” he says as he sits on the edge of the bed and takes the plate. He puts it in your lap as you grip it by the edges. You look down at the little flapjacks stamped with the image of a cartoon dog. It makes you feel strange. He has kids...
“Yeah, I like them,” you sniff and let the plate balance on your legs. You take the cutlery and cut into the fluffy batter.
“Admittedly, I’m a low effort cook,” he chuckles as he puts his hand on your knee, squeezing through the quilt, “but the syrup’s from Quebec and the blueberries are straight from the grove. Ann and her ladies go berry picking on Sundays.”
At the mention of his wife, you shrink. You focus on eating as you stomach strips itself from the inside. Before, your appetite was barely a tickle, now it’s vociferous. You’d mostly pushed around the dinner they served last night.
“That’s nice,” you wisp.
He’s quiet, rubbing your leg as you chew.
“What’s going on? You okay?”
You swallow and take another bite. You need time to figure that out. You don’t think you’ll do that any time soon.
“I just want to be with you,” you say as you raise your chin, your eyes meeting his.
He considers you, his lips thinning and slanting.
“I know. And... I know this isn’t exactly how you pictured it.”
“Why didn’t...” you begin, pausing to cute another square of pancake. You dab it in the syrup as you bite down on your courage, “why didn’t you tell me you’re married?”
He’s quiet again. You peek up at him as he stares down. You look at his hand. A golden ring wraps around his finger. You point the fork at it.
“You never wore that.”
He tilts his head and takes a deep breath. He meets your eyes. He looks afraid. Of you. No one’s ever looked at you like that.
“I know. I don’t wear it during session. I’m supposed to ask the questions so I try to be a non-entity with my patients. I’m there to listen,” he pinches the band and twists it, “and it’s... lighter without it.”
You shove more pancake into your mouth. You frown. You look around the room; a house, a wife, kids... you don’t fit into any of it.
“I should go home,” your voice cracks with the statement. It’s his turn to wince.
“Home? You can’t go back to Andy.”
“No, not there,” you say.
A vee divets between his brows, “to Amber? No, I don’t think you’re ready for that.”
“But this place--”
“You’re welcome here, sweetie.”
You deflate and poke at the pancakes. You’re not hungry anymore. You scrape the tines of the fork so the flapjack shreds to fluffy strips.
“I’m just the same as I was anywhere. A burden.”
“You’re not--”
“I don’t want to do that again,” you snap. “Last night was... was.... scary.”
“I know it was new, sweetie, but you had fun, didn’t you?”
You part your lips and shrug.
“You came. I felt it. You felt me too, didn’t you?”
You gape at him. A tingle flows through you as you barely save the plate from sliding off your lap. You grasp it and close your mouth.
“You did,” he affirms, “you want to be together, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you whisper.
“This is how we can be together.”
“But Ann...”
“I don’t think you’re seeing this the right way, sweetheart,” he reaches for the plate and you let him take it. He puts it on the table and sidles up the bed. He takes your hand and pulls it towards him. “Don’t look at Ann as just my wife, okay? She’s ours. All three of us are a unit. Think about it.”
You suck in air and hold it in. Your pulse beats in your temple as you scrunch up your face. You let out the breath slowly as your eyes fall to his hand on yours. It didn’t feel like that when Andy held your head. That felt like a snare, like a cuff around your wrist, a chain tying you down. But when Steve touches you, when he just looks at you, you’re giddy and bright and safe.
“Really?” You look up at him, “how does that work, though?”
“Well, she’s my wife but you could be my wife too,” he explains, “and she’s your wife, I’m your husband but I’m hers too. There’s just three of us, sweetie. That’s all. And the kids, they love you.”
“B-but...” you gulp, “but they’re not mine and... you can’t have two--”
“Maybe not legally but that’s just paperwork. What right does the government have to tell us who to love,” he covers your hand with his other, rubbing it, “how about tonight, we’ll take it a bit slower, huh? I'll tell Ann to take it easy. It’ll all be up to you, sweetie, okay? You’re in charge.”
“I... I guess I could... try?” You sputter.
“Good,” he purrs, “you know, Ann really loves you.”
“She does?”
“Oh yeah, of course, and I know you can love her too,” he raises your hand and kisses your knuckles, “because I love both of you.”
You stare at him, fixating on his lips as he lets your hand back down. You don’t care about all that other stuff, the touching, the licking, the rutting. You just want the little things.
“What?” He asks, “did I miss something?” He pulls a hand away and wipes his chin, “I kinda scarfed everything down with the kids.”
“No,” you breathe, “Steve?” Your eyes ping up to his, “I just... I just... I want a kiss. From you. I—It's all I ever wanted. I dreamt about it--”
“About kissing me?” He giggles.
“Mhmm,” you nod as you bite your lip. “Ever since... well... I shouldn’t say it.”
“Since?” He prompts.
You grin devilishly, “...Thanksgiving.”
“Thanksgiving?” He repeats, “wow, well, can I tell you a secret?”
“What?”
“That’s all I could think about too,” he shifts, moving closer, “come here.”
He brings his hand up under your chin. He leans in and you quiver, closing your eyes. His lips meet yours and sparks fly, all doubts dissipating. You touch his chest, feeling along the cotton of his shirt. You open your mouth and he accepts the invitation, his tongue invading hungrily as he eats you up. You tilt your head back as you hook your other arm around his neck.
He parts, his forehead against yours and you puff up at him as he licks his lips, “mm, maple.”
#andy barber#steve kemp#dark andy barber#dark!andy barber#dark!steve kemp#dark steve kemp#andy barber x reader#steve kemp x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#au#library au#don't speak#series#defending jacob#fresh
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Honest
Steve Kemp: Steve’s never lied to you. 18+ only!
Dub/Non Con Warning!
more content warnings here!
“I’m gonna keep you alive, for as long as I can.”
You would have scoffed if you were in less of a frantic state. Though it had only been two months, you had grown to trust Steve; he had never lied to you, and you thought he never would. You trusted him so much that had he not already lied to you, you would believe him now.
“I don’t believe you,” you say shakily, trying to stop your body from trembling as you pull against the chain cuffed to your right hand.
He crouches down, and you can feel his eyes on you, but you’re too preoccupied with fumbling with your restraint to meet his gaze, despite deep down knowing how useless your effort here would be.
“I’ve never lied to you,” he says.
“You said you were a vegetarian,” you snap through gritted teeth, as you try hard at tugging your hand free.
“I said I don’t eat animals.”
You briefly pause your efforts—so momentarily it may as well not count—running through your mind the red flags you should have caught—but they were never lies. You want to berate yourself for getting so caught up in his charm, but, in your defence, how were you supposed to know your boyfriend was a cannibal? Maybe you should have been more wary he was a kidnapper, but a cannibal?
“Yeah,” this time you do scoff, “Eats pussy, eats people, what’s the difference.”
His serenity juxtaposed with your anxious effort to get free are driving you madder by the second.
“Stop doing that,” he mutters, but you don’t stop, instead trying harder, pulling harder, hands trembling harder, heart thumping harder.
“STOP!” he yells, and it startles you enough to pull your left hand away. He stands, towering over you and blocking the light, like a dark cloud blocking the sun to cause a storm.
“No!” you scream at him as you kick away the sheets of the thin mattress onto the cold floor, “Don’t touch me!” you shriek, cowering further into the corner, pushing up hard against the wall, willing it to swallow you up, even collapse against you—just anything to get you away from him.
He holds his hands up and shrugs, still cool as ever, as you throw your head back against the wall, eyes closed and chin outward towards him, nose to the roof as you will yourself to just. Wake. Up. Because this can’t be real.
You scramble to stand up and attempt to dart past him—for what, you’re not sure, maybe the chain will break or something, doesn’t matter, you just have to try something.
His eyes widen but he easily sticks out an arm and you run into it. You bend over his outstretched arm and start screaming and kicking. He pulls you against his chest, one arm wrapped firmly around your waist and the other caging your chest, his hand in your hair.
“Stop, stop, stop,” he coos, “Calm down.”
And against your better judgement you do, you slowly stop fighting against him, because no matter what, his warm arms wrapped around you and the scent of his earthy cologne relax you, like you’re conditioned to. You close your eyes and hope when you open them you’ll be back in your bed, Steve’s strong arms around you, and you were only kicking because you had an awful nightmare, but it’s okay, because Steve’s got you.
You peel your eyes open and deflate in disappointment, met with the same dim orange light and cold room, Steve’s arms around you.
You feel really stupid that you pretty much just walked into your cage, maybe you would have felt better if he had snatched you off the side of the road, because that wouldn’t be your fault. This… this did feel like your fault.
“Steve, let me go,” you demand, still out of breath.
He drops your body onto the mattress and you groan as you look up at him again. You know you asked, but you feel colder without him. You want to say I meant let me out of here, but he holds up a finger to stop you when he sees you open your mouth.
“Now why would I let my favourite girl leave?”
You physically cringe at his words. In any other context that would have you blushing and lightly squeezing your thighs together, but now, you hear the word favourite and your mind wanders to how many women he’s said that to… how many women he’s done this to.
“Would have thought you treated your favourite a little better,” you snap, and immediately regret it when his eyes go dark and his face falls. You suppress a shudder, and when the corner of his mouth quirks up, you try uselessly to back away even further. His eyes remain dangerous and his lips beautifully coy, his gorgeous features morphing a juxtaposition that terrifies you.
“You know I can make you feel good,” he drawls, tone heated.
“Steve, don’t,” you breathe, disgusted, by him, and by yourself, for you feel that familiar heartbeat calling out to him. Your body defies you, responding on its own to his drop in octave as you watch him crouch down to you.
He lays down next to you and moves his hand to your waist, “And you know… maybe I want you for myself. I already know you taste sweet.”
He smiles and traces his fingers further down to your thigh and squeezes gently.
You can’t look away from him, fixated on his steel blue eyes, mouth slightly open and breathing uneven.
Slowly, he moves to hold himself up above you, neat brown waves falling forward as he stares down at you, hunger-filled eyes raking over you. You know that look; he wants to devour you.
But… maybe in a different context this time.
Your nerves scale up as he moves down and places his head between your thighs, pushing them apart.
“Steve, please stop,” you whisper as he settles.
“You’re soaked already,” he remarks, before running his middle finger down your clothed slit. You writhe and you can feel his amused exhale against your heat.
Though every brain cell is screaming this is wrong, you can’t help but crave his mouth on you, and you’re so caught up in the idea you don’t even notice he’s slipping your underwear off until he leaves a gentle kiss on your cunt and you gasp, hands immediately flying to grip his hair.
He smiles before his mouth latches onto you.
Your hips buck into his face before he steadies you, his hands smoothing over your thighs and slipping underneath them to get a better (but still gentle) grip on you, pulling you closer to him. You let out a sob at a particularly harsh suck he gives and he grins before dipping his tongue back in and swirling.
“Steve…” you whine, and you can’t even tell for what; for him to stop, for him to never stop, you don’t know. With every swirl, lick, suck, you can feel your resolve starting to melt away, mere minutes into discovering you’re his fucking captive.
“You taste so fucking good,” he grunts against you, his voice cracking as he struggles to keep his composure, just as lost in the taste of you as you are in the feel of him.
You’re close and he knows it, “Cum for me, sweetness, please,” he begs, sounding nearly desperate. And you do, with an arch of your back and a heavenly moan falling from your mouth, you cum into his mouth, tears stinging your vision as you grip tighter onto his locks before letting your hands fall away to push weakly as his shoulders.
“See?” he says as he raises his head. You manage to look down at him, his nose and lower face glistening, coated in you, “You just taste so fucking good… the rest of you’s gotta to be as heavenly too, honey.”
♯
#steve kemp x reader#dark!steve kemp#dark!steve kemp x you#dark!steve kemp x reader#dark steve kemp#dark steve kemp x reader#dark steve kemp x you#steve kemp x y/n
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keep your heart open, i’ll keep mine open, too.
part one / part two
pairing: steve kemp x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. this is a dark fic. smut. normal steve kemp warnings.
words: 4.4k
notes: month late valentines “drabble”. one down, three to go 🥴. anyway, hope you enjoy. thanks in advance for reading 🖤 as always, comments and reblogs are always welcome and so appreciated!
“See, this is fun, isn’t it?” Steve smiled at you, the crinkles by his eyes deepening as he beamed.
You swallowed and gave him a small smile, nodding softly as you looked back down at the pizza dough he’d helped you knead. “Yeah, it is,” you agreed.
The counter was covered in flour as your formed and stretched dough sat waiting to be topped. Steve brought over the bowl of his homemade pizza sauce and offered you a spoon as he stood next to you.
“Just plop it on and spread it,” he smiled as he did just that to his own dough, looking over to you as you watched him smear the sauce around.
Taking a scoop onto your spoon, you mimicked him, spreading the sauce evenly. Just like frosting a cake, you smiled to yourself at the familiar action you hadn’t been able to do since Steve had gotten you here.
You’d missed this, baking, decorating, being able to lose yourself in the work. The simplicity, familiarity of it all. It was nice having a distraction. You didn’t have many of those here. You were always acutely aware of everything that was going on. Everything.
“Sweetheart?” Steve's voice cut through your train of thought, pulling you out of your head.
“Hm?” you hummed, having missed his previous question.
“Cheese?” he asked again, a smile playing on his lips but you could tell by the hard look in his eye he was concerned, wary of where your thoughts were trailing off to. Your eyes widened as you took a breath before forcing a smile on your face with a slight nod.
“Right, yeah,” you said, grabbing a handful of the shredded cheese from the bowl he set down. You sprinkled the shreds evenly over the sauce before grabbing a bit more for the bare spots.
“Okay, now for our toppings,” Steve announced as he turned to the small bowls of topping options he’d set out, sliding them down the counter closer to the both of you. You were glad to find he hadn’t set out any meat options in the bowls as you considered the choices. “Oh, I almost forgot,” Steve walked to the fridge, pulling out a small store bought bag of mini pepperoni slices, tossing it in his hand as he strode back to your side, “I bought these, too. Just for you.”
It was comical, really, his dedication to his “vegetarian” eating habits. No animals, just people.
He opened the bag as he looked at you, offering it for you to take. You stared at his hand a moment before he spoke again. “Come on, I know you like pepperoni,” he goaded.
“Thank you,” you said quietly, grabbing the bag from his hand. You placed only a few pieces on your pizza before discarding the baggy to the side. You went back to the plethora of veggie options laid out before you and continued topping your pizza until you were satisfied.
“Done,” you smiled, turning to see Steve’s. His pizza was much the same as your own, sans the pepperoni. “Oven?” you asked.
“Would you open it for me,” he said as he took hold of the peel your pizza was on, walking behind you as you went to open the door of the oven. The heat that greeted you as you pulled it open was a welcomed warmth. You used to hate the feeling, but in this moment, you bathed in the warmth the oven offered you, the warmth you had sorely missed. Moving aside, you watched as he slid your personal size pizza onto the rectangular pizza stone before he walked his own pizza over, placing it next to yours and then shutting the oven himself. He exhaled as he turned to look at you where you were now leaning against the counter.
“Now we wait,” he announced, walking closer to you before caging you in where you stood, his arms on either side of you as he gazed down. Your eyes met his and when they did he leaned down to place a gentle kiss against your lips. His hands went from the counter to around you as he pulled you against him. Your own hands came up to his chest, not exactly pushing him away, just touching him. When he finally parted from your lips, you were able to breathe again as you let your head drop, resting against him as your hands dropped in turn.
You felt his lips press against your head softly, his arms hugging you as you let yourself relax against him. “I love you,” he murmured. You squeezed your eyes shut at that, still not used to hearing it. Even after six months, it was jarring. Though you couldn’t deny you were getting more and more used to it with each day that passed.. “We’ll have pizza, you can pick a movie, and then I have a few more things planned for tonight,” he simpered, “a few gifts for you, too.”
You pulled away from him, grimacing. “Steve, you-”
“Ah ah,” he cut you off. “No objections. It’s Valentine’s Day. You’re my valentine, I want to show you how much I care for you. Besides, you’re gonna love them, I know you will,” he smirked, leaning down closer to kiss you once again. “In fact, I’ll show you your first gift now, since we’re already here.”
Your brows furrowed at that, but you followed him as he led you around the island to where the lower cupboards opened. He pulled the doors open and gestured for you to look. You eyed him warily before slowly squatting down to look inside. Your eyes rounded as you were met with a box labeled as a 15 piece bakeware set. Williams Sonoma, you breathed a soft laugh through your nose, nice. Your gaze flicked from the box, up to Steve as he smiled down at you.
“I have most tools you’d need already, but if you need anything specific, just tell me. I figured,” he offered his hand to you and you took it as you stood, “you could get back to baking. You’ve been so good, and I trust you. I want you to feel more at home here, I don’t want to have to keep you downstairs all the time. It’d be good for you to have more space, and ya know, get back to doing the things you love to do,” his hands were on your arms as he stared down at you adoringly, “I want you to be happier… You smile, but that glimmer in your eye is missing. I want it back,” he told you as he pulled you closer, bringing one hand up to caress your cheek. You blinked up at him, your hands coming up to touch his arm gently. Your lips were slightly parted as you nodded before you looked away.
“Thank you,” you breathed. “I do miss baking,” you admitted as you took a step closer to him, warily moving to wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his chest as you hugged him, lightly and cautiously at first before you melted into his warmth as he hugged you in return. “I think you’re right. It’ll be good, to be out here more. Be around you more,” you trailed off, hoping you said the right thing.
You could try and tell yourself it was just to make him happy, but there was some truth to it. You couldn’t deny that you did want to see him more. He had been around less and less the past few weeks and the solitude was going to drive you stir crazy. You hated being downstairs. Hated all the noises you couldn’t drown out no matter how hard you tried. It was quiet up here. Spacious, peaceful. And Steve was up here.
Missing someone and being dependent on someone are two different things. You tried to remind yourself of that when you’d get scared or lonely down in your room and would find yourself wanting Steve around, but the two ideas seemed to be blending into one another more and more lately. But you couldn’t try and hold onto that distinction. It made everything so much more difficult, harder to bear. Sometimes you had to drown yourself out, allow yourself to be comforted by him, to relax in this home with him. What other option did you have? Either way you were gonna go crazy and if you had to choose, you’d rather delude yourself than fall further into the sinking pit of despair that awaited you back downstairs.
“You’ve missed me?” he asked, simpering, his hands running up and down your back soothingly.
“Yes,” you murmured in response.
He pulled away from you then, his hand coming to your chin, tilting your face up to his as he smiled brightly. “Good,” his voice was deep, gravely as his eyes flitted from your own down to your lips. You leaned in before he did, your hands finding his hair, fingers threading through the brown locks as you pulled him closer, your lips pressing against his tenderly.
His hold on you was firm until you broke the kiss, taking a step back to breathe while lightly grabbing his hands in yours.
“I could.. I could bake something?” you offered, though you both knew it was more of a question, asking his permission while you worried your lip, looking up at him hopefully.
He squeezed your hand as he considered you for less than a second, “Tomorrow.”
You blinked and flitted your eyes away from his, “Okay,” you responded, giving a tight lipped smile and trying not to look so let down as you glanced back up at him. He brought up a hand to caress your cheek, “Tomorrow,” he reiterated, holding your eye as he spoke, “Now go make yourself comfortable, I’ll check the food and we can…” he trailed off as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly at you. You didn’t mean to but you stiffened a bit at the idea of him being around your food without you seeing him and what he was doing.
He huffed a laugh as he watched you, “Come on, you trust me, don’t you?”
You said nothing, just kept your eyes on him.
“Trust is a two way street, sweetheart. You still can’t trust me to bring you your food but you expect me to trust you to have free reign of the house?” Your eyes widened subtly at his words…free reign? “I thought we were finally getting past all of this,” he continued.
“We are,” you interjected, “I am,” you nodded. “I trust you. I do, I trust you,” you tried to assure him, though he only stared back in response as he assessed your reaction. “Steve,” you said more calmly, gentler as you worked to keep your voice even, “if you trust me,” you grabbed his hand and took a step closer to him, “I trust you.” A smile made its way to your lips as you now caressed his cheek in your soft palm, you pulled him a bit closer as you reached up to peck him on his other cheek. Without another word you turned around and made your way into the entertainment room. You glanced over your shoulder as Steve finally turned around and walked further into the kitchen to check on the pizzas.
You realized as you sat on the couch, Steve entirely out of view, that you’d do just about anything to not have to go back downstairs again. Other parts of your brain might disagree with your thought process, but you just couldn’t take it alone down there anymore. So if all you had to do, if all he wanted from you was trust, then that’s exactly what you’d give him.
—
You sighed as you let your head rest against the feather filled pillows on Steve’s bed. The king sized mattress was like heaven beneath you. The weight of the down comforter atop you was relaxing and the feeling of the warm material against your clean, soft skin was silky and soothing.
But it wasn’t just the bed that had you feeling so good, it was the fact that you felt just a bit more free. Less of a prisoner. The shadows and haunting sounds that crept into the room downstairs at night were nowhere to be found up here. Your eyes fell shut at the peace that encompassed you for the time being.
Steve’s second gift of the night, after you’d eaten your pizza and let him hold you while you watched a movie neither of you were truly interested in, was found upstairs. He led you up the steps and then into his bedroom where a small black bag was waiting for you on the bed.
“Open it,” he gestured to the bag with a turn of his head as he pulled you further into the room. You walked to the bed and the baby blue lingerie you found staring back at you after you’d looked into the bag had you swallowing hard.
Steve’s arms came around you from behind, his chin on your shoulder before he placed a lingering kiss on the delicate skin of your neck. “Can I take a shower?” you asked delicately.
“Yeah,” he answered, “yeah, of course. Just wanna show you one more thing.”
He led you to the closet, your brows furrowed in confusion until he pulled the doors open. You turned your eyes from the clothes to Steve as he smiled. “My clothes…” you said, throat tight. “How did you, uhm,” you stopped yourself from asking the question you surely knew the answer to. He’d taken your keys, purse, everything off of you, of course he had access to your apartment. “How long have you had them?”
“A while. I’ve just been waiting until I knew you were ready to bring you up here. This is where I want you to be, it’s where you belong. With me.”
-
There was a lot you could currently be losing it about, but you had decided earlier, under the heavy stream of warm water, that you just didn’t want to think about any of it. You were tired. You didn’t have the energy to be anything but accepting. Or maybe the better word was complacent.. You laughed a bit at yourself. It didn’t matter anymore. Who cares?
At the end of the day you were stuck here, simple as that. And Steve had said it himself, he wants you to be happier. You could do that, you tried to believe it though the pit in your stomach felt otherwise.
You startled as the blanket moved from around you, your eyes shooting open in surprise.
“Just me,” Steve soothed with a gentle touch to your arm.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” you tried to explain away the flash of fear you knew he’d seen in your eyes.
“Lost in thought again, pretty girl?” he purred as he got on the bed and moved closer.
You covered yourself with your arms, trying to shrink in on yourself. He grabbed your arms and pulled them away from your body, pinning them by your head as he got on top of you. He tsked, clicking his tongue as he shook his head, “Don’t hide from me, baby. Don’t ever hide from me.”
He leaned down, taking your lips in his, kissing you fervently. He pulled away, letting his eyes drag down your body, smiling as he took in the blue lingerie. The embroidered lace and Italian silk looked just as beautiful on you as he had imagined it would. He slid his hands from your arms, letting his touch glide down your sides as he moved down your supine form. Your breath hitched, goosebumps rising under his attention. Smoothing his touch back up your waist, tickling you with his feather light graze, he kept on until he met your chest. He squeezed your breasts through the silk material of the bra, your nipples pebbling as he fondled you, before dragging his hands back down your stomach and finally hooking his fingers in the strings of the waistband of the matching panties.
Your hips raised without instruction as he slid them down, tossing them to the other side of the bed before he pulled your legs apart, his eyes dark and his gaze lecherous, but his touch still deceptively soft as his fingertips brushed up and down your thighs.
You watched him through heavy lids, your breathing a bit harder than normal as you waited in anticipation. Slowly he brought himself closer to where you both wanted him to be. You whimpered pathetically when you felt his warm breath on your glistening folds, and gasped again as his tongue dragged up your slit, moaning as he flicked it against your clit, playing you so perfectly. You couldn’t say you didn’t want it. In fact, you longed for it. Just to be able to revel in the pleasure he’d give you and forget about all the bad, forget where you were and why. To be completely uninhibited, at least for the time being.
Steve’s tongue was firm against your cunt as he continued lapping at you while you writhed under him. So much so that he had to grip your hip to keep you still while he worked on you. You exhaled sharply and made a strangled noise when he decided to delve into your slick entrance, working his tongue in and out of you as your fingers wound in his hair, urging him on.
He growled against you as he ate you out hungrily. His free hand came from around your thigh to your dripping entrance as he moved his mouth back to your clit. Two of his fingers played with your wetness before sinking knuckle deep inside of you, massaging you teasingly until he found your g-spot, rubbing repeatedly over the spongy spot in a come hither motion, coaxing you closer and closer to your high. You felt that ever familiar tightening in your lower belly, your walls clenching around Steve’s fingers greedily. Your eyes squeezed shut and you swore you saw stars as he sucked on your clit, your hand mindlessly pulling on his hair as you finally shattered. His name left your mouth repeatedly amidst your moans and hushed curses while you dissolved into pleasure beneath him.
He worked you through your orgasm before pulling away, licking his lips wolfishly as he leaned over you. “Good girl,” he purred, brushing his lips against yours. “Taste fucking amazing,” he continued before taking your lips in his hungrily, letting his tongue dip inside your mouth as you moaned.
Your eyes were closed again when he pulled away from you as you caught your breath, letting your body relax until you felt prodding against your folds. Your hazy eyes opened to find Steve between your legs again, his erect cock in his hand as he ran the tip of himself up and down your slit teasingly. You mewled as he rubbed at your puffy clit with the head of his dick, he was breathing heavily as he stared down at your already messy sex, a smug smirk on his lips before he lined himself up with your hole, pressing into you slowly, a shaky mewl leaving you on an exhale as Steve moaned at the feeling of your warm, wet walls taking him in. He leaned over you then, sliding deeper inside of you as he brought himself face to face with you, his eyes never leaving your own. He held himself up above you on one arm, the other holding your hip as he watched your face, loving the way your lips parted in a gentle “o” as he nestled himself inside of you. When his hips were flush against yours, his cock filling your pussy full, he rolled his hips against you expertly, earning a deep moan from you as he continued stoking the fire within you, sending sparks through you as he stimulated your clit with each roll of his hips, slow and deep strokes as you took every inch. You grabbed onto him, one arm around his back and the other finding his hair, pulling him closer to you as you hitched one leg around him, grinding up against him to meet his movements. “Yes,” your voice rose unbidden in a breathless moan. His face was in your neck, nipping and sucking bruises into the soft flesh as he fucked you. You babbled as he began pounding into you, the pressure compounding in your core. You were so close already. Steve moaned in your ear, praises grunted through grit teeth as he ground himself against you. You groaned, murmuring in pleasure as your foot flexed against his ass, urging him deeper. He was hitting all your sweet spots and you knew he knew what he was doing as he smiled against your skin when you mewled.
“Steve,” you moaned pathetically, “please, please, please,” you cried as your face screwed up in pleasure from his relentless thrusts. Your nails sunk into his back as your walls were snug around him.
“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed. “Feels good, huh. Always take me so well, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re squeezin me so tight,” he huffed, “Know you wanna come, baby, I know what you need. I’ll give it to you,” he promised with another roll of his hips as you arched into him with a strangled whimper.
His presence was suffocating you, his being nearly swallowing you entirely as you lost yourself to him - and you couldn’t bring yourself to care in the slightest. The sinful fullness in your core and the sparks that flew inside and all over you as he fucked you, playing your body perfectly, his whimpers and moans and curses sounding in your ear and floating along your skin, the feeling of his strong body against yours had you tumbling head first into your second orgasm as you held onto him for dear life, trying to keep him as close to you as you could in your euphoria. A high pitched gasp escaping you as your walls constricted around him, moans spilling from your lips as you milked his cock and he once again brought you over the edge. Electricity surged through you, you felt your nerve endings light up in pure delight as he kept his pace, only faltering for a moment but determined to prolong your pleasure for as long as he could manage.
“Ahh fuck,” he hissed as you clenched down on his cock, your legs twitching around him and heavy breaths falling from his lips as he puffed, trying not to lose himself just yet. “God, you’re so good,” he grunted, “so fucking good,” he praised as he rode you through your high, his thumb stroking your skin gently as he braced your hip. The stark contrast in his touch stirring something in you even as his hips began losing their rhythm as he chased his own high.
“‘M close, baby,” he whined. “Fuck, I’m gonna give it to you, gonna fill you so fuckin full of me.
Tell me you want it.
Tell me you fuckin want it,” he husked darkly.
“Want it,” you murmured. A low growl and a tight squeeze on your hip had you speaking up again.
“Please, Steve, I want it,” you keened.
The feeling of you squeezing him, holding onto him so tightly, your soft body pressed to his, your whines of pleasure filling the air and mingling with the obscene sounds of him fucking you, the way you moaned his name, all of it suddenly had his eyes screwed shut as he tensed, grunting and puffing as he shot his load, his spend filling you up as his cock pulsed inside of you. The deep, throaty growl he unleashed as he came sent an unexpected wave of arousal through you as he thrust into you once, twice more before he finally collapsed on top of you. Rolling over and taking you with him, you both worked to catch your breath as you came down. You laid your head on his chest as his hands ran soothingly up and down your skin. No words were exchanged from either of you as you laid there, only a content, satisfied sigh coming from Steve. When he finally pulled out of you, you could feel his spend sticky on your skin and grimaced at the feeling, gingerly moving to climb off the bed as you spoke.
“Is it okay if I use the bathroom?”
“Yeah,” he answered, getting up after you, “I’m gonna shower, actually.”
You didn’t say anything as he followed you into the bathroom, coming up behind you and letting his hand graze from your hip, along your back as he made his way further in to the shower. You stood in front of the mirror, just out of his sight, as you stared at the reflection you found there. It was you, but it wasn’t.. You found yourself tracing your figure, lingering on the imperfections that made you you, and then on the marks that were left on your body tonight. The light scratches, the soft bite marks, the subtle bruises you could feel forming even now.. Everything that made you his.
“Why don’t you join me,” Steve’s voice broke through your trance as you blinked away from the reflection. You knew it wasn’t so much an invitation as it was his way of telling you to join him. There was no room for argument so you made your way over to him. Stepping into the already steaming shower, the warmth was just as nice as the first time, the steady stream just as soothing. It was so easy to stop worrying - to not have to think. And as Steve’s arms wrapped around you and his head fell to the crook of your neck, peppering kisses along your skin, your lashes fluttered shut as you relaxed against him.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin before whispering a gentle “I love you,” against your temple, his lips pressing against you.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Steve,” you breathed.
Nearly an hour later, you found yourself back in his bed, being held in his embrace, nestled under the covers as you mindlessly nuzzled into his bare chest. It wasn’t long before you felt your eyelids begin to grow heavier and heavier, eventually fluttering shut.
Vaguely, you were aware that you were slipping completely, but it was too late to stop the fall. Not that you’d even dare to try. Not anymore.
#steve kemp x curvy!reader#steve kemp x plus size!reader#steve kemp x reader#steve kemp x you#soft!dark steve kemp#dark!steve kemp#steve kemp drabble#steve kemp fanfic#steve kemp fic#valentine's day drabble#i gotta be honest guys…#i’m kinda over this whole writing thing lol
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A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing
Pairing: Dark!Steve Kemp x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: It was an art - one that took many years and many sacrifices to perfect, and Steve had managed to become a master at it. There was just one thing he would not fully commit to sacrificing, at least not the important parts that kept life essence flowing: you.
Warnings: THIS IS A DARK FIC - PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - dead dove, kidnapping, mentions of smut (p in v), fingering and oral (fem receiving), implied non-con, degradation, restraints, physical abuse (face slapping), cannibalism (it’s Steve kemp what did you expect?), force feeding, hints of Stockholm syndrome?
A/N: Unbeta’d | dividers created by @rookthorne thank you for also helping me with the summary my love 🥰 | this oneshot was inspired by the lovely @smutconnoisseur who made me this absolutely stunning moodboard 😭 I just knew I had to write something as soon as I saw it. Thank you so much sweetie, loves you the most 🥹
“Let me go, you fucking psycho!”
Steve merely kept on humming to himself, happily slicing the meat in front of him into finely cut pieces. It took severe attention to detail to finesse the glide of the knife just right, cutting through as smooth as butter.
It had taken quite a long time to get his craft on the line of perfection - years in the making - and now that he’d finally mastered the art, it was as easy as riding a bike. The rush of adrenaline spiking his nerves gave him a hit unlike anything else in his life. This was what he was meant for. He’d wasted so much time not giving in before.
Wooden screeching against the floor snapped him out of his inner musings, eyes lifting up to see you fidgeting in your chair - presumably trying to escape, but the chains attached to your feet would keep you rooted.
Steve couldn’t help but notice how the glow of the candlelight surrounding you on the dinner table highlighted the beauty in the features of your face. Sunset orange dancing among the shadows, defining your cheekbones and your shoulders decorated in the straps of a pretty dress.
You were so beautiful. Perfect for him.
Placing the meat onto a skillet to cook, Steve wiped his hands and rounded the corner of the kitchen island to join you, the sudden bravado you had earlier evaporating while terror took over your body. His cock shouldn’t have gotten hard seeing the tears gathering on your lash line, but those glassy eyes reminded him of a deer in fright, ready to run. And fuck, would he love the chase.
“Bambi… join me.”
It was haunting, the kind smile Steve let loose as he held out his hand to you after arriving by your side. No wasn’t an answer, and you did well to stand up on your shaky legs - from still recovering or fear, he wasn’t sure - quietly proud of you either way.
Flashbacks of you clumsily tripping over the bed to go relieve yourself on the toilet crossed his mind as he brought you to the middle of the living room. After fucking you three times in one night, leaving you screaming his name and begging for more each time, he couldn’t help be prideful watching you stumble your way out of the room. Just like a doe learning to walk for the first time.
Of course, the chains rattling with each step you took while limping weren’t part of the memory. The heavy breaths were familiar though, smirk crawling onto his face as he imagined your adorable squeaks while he ate your cunt like he was man starved.
Once Steve had directed you into the middle of the living room rug, he brought you closer to him, slipping his arm over your waist as you flinched, and grabbing your other hand to hold as he began to slowly dance. He was thoughtful enough to keep his steps light and be extra careful with you.
Deciding it was too much of a distraction for you a long time ago, Steve had decided to forego music in the house - it let your mind switch off and he wanted your brain alert… in the present. Solely on him and every move he made. So, he graced you with his singing voice instead, whispering the lyrics to ‘Restless Heart’ in your ear.
Steve felt the shaking of your chest before your uncontrollable sobs cut through his singing. He’d be offended had he no clue how scared his Bambi was.
“What’s wrong, Bambi? Huh? Don’t you like it here with me?”
“I w-want to go h-home.” You stuttered.
Steve sighed and lifted your head up with his palms, kissing your forehead and leaning down to your watery eyeline to speak to you directly.
“Oh, baby…” his condescending tone gave away his faux concern for you, “you know I can’t let you do that.”
You began to heave, breaths coming in fast and heavy with panic - Steve almost felt a crack in his heart. Almost.
Truth be told, Steve knew you were it for him. Ever since he first saw you from the corner of his eye walking down the fruit and vegetable aisle, he’d been bewitched.
Youthful, tight skin, good looking.
You ticked all the boxes for him… and the rest of his client base.
He’d caught other women before - gorgeous, just the right amount of meat on their thighs to keep the buyers happy.
They were good. However, they didn’t compare to you.
Normally, Steve would be excited to find new prey. The cat and mouse play of picking out women to cut up and sell. But, you were different. Steve wanted you all for himself.
See, you weren’t just a pretty face, you were witty, funny, intelligent - maybe not smart enough to see what was coming, but he didn’t hold that against you, he was just too conniving after all.
And those goddamn dates he took you on, paving the path for his plan to come to fruition, when he found himself enjoying your company. Steve wanted to spend all of his time with you, willingly.
That was when he decided he didn’t want to go along with his usual plans. Instead, he wanted to date you. See where this relationship could go.
So, he took you to his house tucked away in a secluded area - the excuse of wanting a weekend without the modern world bothering you in disguise of your questioning to the lack of signal or Wi-Fi.
Honestly, he didn’t initially plan to drug you. The opportunity just… sprung onto him. Too tempting to not listen to his base instincts and ignore the spiked wine hidden in the alcohol cabinet.
A voice in the back of his head told him he shouldn’t be doing that, he vividly remembered it. The urge to get a kick out of his charades with someone as good as you overpowered it, though.
Steve wasn’t proud of himself afterwards, but how could he be blamed? He’d worked out a successful routine before he stumbled on you. Wooing girls fitting his mental meat quality checklist and eventually luring them into his second home. It was only natural to follow his instincts, what he’d made of himself.
You especially weren’t happy when you found yourself on his home operating table, opening your eyes to realise your boyfriend was taking your ass.
Weirdly, he didn’t find guilt in the thrill he took from that - that seemed to sicken you the most. He remembered how you lunged for him, screaming about the insanity of his pleasures when you woke up after the surgery to find him sitting in your caged prison. Cutting into your delicate skin to watch the stream of blood flow down your rump to then hearing him laughing to himself as he showed you the flesh stolen away from your body had your head spinning - dangling it from his fingers in front of your face.
It wasn’t too long after that you passed out from overexertion. If only you knew the way he used you to take care of himself after that.
It may have been confusing to understand, but Steve genuinely thought the world of you. Those few months of dating spent together changed his mind on whether he’d find a companion ever again.
Finding love alongside Steve’s hobby had been difficult to put it lightly. His first wife knew of his side activities coinciding with his doctoral career. That was why he settled being with her, someone who was accepting of who he was. But, although she may have put up with what he was doing, she didn’t initiate that spark within Steve - that buried, deep seated fire that begged to be set free. Steve wanted to be seen, to be loved in his entirety.
There was no shame in that.
That was what led to the downfall of his marriage, Steve was no longer interested in the farce of keeping up appearances with a woman who didn’t truly understand him. Which is why she had to go. Just divorcing wasn’t an option, she knew too much.
Then came along you. His pretty doe, who captured his heart from a glance.
As your hysteria whittled on, Steve hugged you tight to his chest.
He’d kept you here for a month in total now. Four glorious weeks of spending time with you alone, bonding together. Your feistiness only made his cock grow in his slacks whenever you put up a fight.
His little doe didn’t put out easy - just how he liked it.
As your tears continued to soak his dress shirt further, he shushed your cries, keeping you close and he swayed side to side in comfort.
The beeping of the oven hob, interrupted Steve’s attempt at soothing you. The meat was cooked and it was time to plate up the dinner he’d made for the two of you.
Bringing you away from his chest, Steve smoothed your hair behind your ears, wiping his thumbs under your swollen eyes to get rid of your tears. Holding your arm, he again directed you back towards the table to sit down, clamped your hands back into the cuffs attached before walking towards the kitchen.
Peaking over, Steve noticed you had calmed down and collected yourself by the time he was adding the peppermint sauce over the mashed potatoes and meat.
He had high hopes on your opinion of his cooking, what you thought mattered to him, believe it or not. It was his real passion beside becoming a plastic surgeon, and he wanted you of all people to like it.
Gracefully, Steve walked on over with his finished plates and set one on each placemat. Your head was bowed, eyes set on the meal set in front of you.
“What is it?”
Your mousy voice spoke up and had Steve looking down at you, lifting your chin up with two fingers so he could see your face.
“Your favourite, sweetheart. Steak and mashed potato.”
A shudder racked through your body as Steve smirked, dropping your face and grabbing the large napkin to fan out over your thighs. He smoothed the material over your legs and traced the tips of his fingers along your bare skin. The sight of you inching away didn’t sit well with Steve, pinching you to hear that familiar yelp he loved so much.
He began to get settled in his seat, combing his styled hair back with his fingers before beginning to cut up the meat on his plate.
“You remember our dinner date don't you, baby? You ordered the exact same thing when the waiter asked. Poor boy couldn’t keep his eyes to himself when I made you speak as I fucked you with my fingers.”
Steve knows you didn’t want him to hear the gasp that couldn’t be kept in. Adorable. You were still so shy around him.
But he didn’t appreciate how long your silence lingered, looking up to see you still staring down at your food, untouched.
The knife clashing down on the plate made you jump in your seat. You didn’t want to eat, no bother. Steve would help you.
Stabbing a cut of meat with his fork, Steve carefully leaned over the table to hold the steak up to your mouth for you to take a bite.
“Open up, my little doe.”
Steve saw your mouth opening up, happy to see you were cooperating with his request. You were finally making progress. Only for you to suddenly move your head to the side as he got close and bite down onto his hand, hard.
The fury built up in Steve as he snatched his hand away, fork scattering onto the table as he released it. In instant retaliation, Steve backhanded you across the face, sending your head whipping over to the side as blood spurted out your mouth.
“Bad girl.”
Blood from the force of his hit trickled down the corner of your mouth. You hadn’t moved from your spot for a second before Steve grabbed the front of your neck, bringing you closer over the table and ignoring your squeak of pain.
“Now, eat what I so graciously cooked you before I fucking force it down your throat.” His spit from the anger of his voice shot out onto your face. Steve shoved you back before slumping into his own seat once again.
His hot and cold nature always had you on edge, but you were used to it by now. Is that what he really deserved after being so thoughtful to you?
Steve observed you closely. Watching your every move should you try something like that again. Only would you get away with something like that once.
You picked up the fork dropped, meat still intact on the silverware and inspected it thoroughly. He knew you were looking for hints of poison or something that indicated he’d drugged you. He threatened it enough times for you to be wary.
He wasn’t sure what you would have preferred once you found out.
Opening your mouth, you placed the meat tenderly onto your tongue and closed to begin eating.
Steve waited until you had swallowed. Intently watching you chew before you were finished with your bite. He gave it a second before sitting back up, taking the fork from you and stabbing another piece, ready to start his meal.
Not before letting you in on his secret ingredient. “I always said you tasted good, didn’t I, Bambi?”
Cold dread visibly washed over your face as you went deadly quiet. Your hands began to abnormally shake. Steve just sat there and watched as your body went into emotional turmoil.
There wasn’t much you could have done, chained to the table, hyperventilating. It wasn’t even as if you could have stuck your fingers down your throat to throw it back up, fingers too far out of reach to even try. It didn’t stop you from dry heaving over the side of the table, retching loudly.
Eventually, the panic your body sent you in, along with your howling cries from despair allowed you to get worked up enough to throw up. Regurgitated meat mixed with bile landing on the carpet as Steve carried on eating - unfazed.
It took you a while for your body to finally relax, for your mind to comprehend what Steve just made you do. Sweat dripped down your face as you forced your body back upright, too weak to fully keep your eyes open as you hoarsely spoke.
“Why are you doing this?”
You looked defeated, body slumped with dark circles under your eyes, shivering like Steve hadn’t cranked the heating up.
Steve wiped his mouth. He understood you were an acquired taste, not for the lightheaded - you’d get used to it eventually though. He thought you were delicious, cleaning up his plate entirely.
He looked directly into your eyes after he finished eating, voice devoid of emotion. “Isn’t it obvious? I love you.”
Your reply is instant “No, you don’t.”
Darkness blackered his pupils. Body still and uptight as he went still. Steve pushed his plate away and leaned his forearms onto the table, never stopping staring as you squirmed in your seat.
“Don’t you ever question my love for you again. Do you hear me?”
You swallowed the presumed lump in your throat.
Steve couldn’t understand how you didn’t know how much he cared for you. You were here, eating in his dining room. He’d sacrificed customer sales by keeping you to himself. He loved you. You’d understand one day though. He’d make sure of it.
“Give it time, Bambi. I know you’ll learn to love me back.”
“And if I don’t?” There was one last inch of life in your eyes, a thin thread of hope holding on for dear life. Steve could see it clear as day, the embers in your irises dying out with each moment he took to answer.
He knew he had you then, the gut punch of his response blowing out the flame once and for all.
“Funny… you think you have a choice.”
#steve kemp x reader#steve kemp x female reader#steve kemp x f!reader#steve kemp smut#dark!steve kemp#dark!steve kemp x reader#steve kemp x y/n#Steve kemp x reader smut#dark!Steve kemp x f!reader#dark!steve kemp x y/n#dark!steve kemp x reader smut#dark Steve kemp#Steve kemp x you
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OBSESSION - Steve Kemp, Part Two
Part two!! Welcome back guys :) Make sure to leave a vote/reblog/comment. It really helps!!
Five months into her best friend’s disappearance, (Y/N) meets someone new, and for the first time in months she feels as if she can finally breathe again. She never thought she’d become the newest obsession of a charming psychopathic cannibal.
- WARNING(S): NON-CON/DUB-CON, grief, drug abuse, kidnapping, Steve Kemp is a red flag himself, cannibalism, manipulation, blood
The car was silent, the heater the only source of noise between us. I fiddled awkwardly with the hem of my sweater, the purse in my lap. One of Steve’s hands held the wheel of his car, the other holding his half-finished cup of coffee, and he sipped at it, his eyes on the road.
From outside my window, I could see it had started to snow, and a thick white blanket began to slowly but surely coat the city's roads. It was pretty, but I shivered at the thought of walking to and from work in this weather.
I hated the cold.
“Thanks again for giving me a ride,” I broke the silence, eyes shifting to the man beside me. “I really appreciate it.”
He turned, grinning at me. “No trouble, (Y/N). The city can be dangerous, ‘specially for pretty girls like you.”
I blushed, turning away from the man to look back outside the window, hiding my face. He seemed to notice this and groaned. “I shouldn’t have said that, I was just meaning that— well, you’re pretty, and obviously it’s really late and—“ he shook his head, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Jesus, I’m just gonna stop talking now.”
I smiled at his awkward nature, my teeth nipping at my inner cheek. It was cute, the way he got embarrassed. He seemed awkward, and part of me liked it. “It’s fine,” I assured quietly. “I just…I don’t know how to handle compliments.”
He glanced at me, eyebrows raised. “Really?”
I nodded. “I just don’t get very many, I suppose. They make me nervous.”
He hummed quietly, his brows furrowed as he stared ahead. “You—you don’t get any?” He sounded surprised, almost as if he were in disbelief, and I shrugged.
“I keep to myself,” I said simply, and his eyes flickered towards me briefly before quickly moving back to the road.
“I don’t see how,” he began, taking another sip of his coffee. “You’re definitely the cutest barista I’ve ever seen.”
I flushed red once more, an embarrassed laugh escaping me. “You’re just a charmer, aren’t you?”
He smirked, tilting slightly. “Guilty as charged.”
“Oh hey, you missed my turn, Steve,” I quickly pointed out just as we passed by the turnoff to my apartment.
Before getting into his car, he had told me he knew the city like the back of his hand, and I furrowed my brows, nipping at my bottom lip nervously.
“Oh, we did…” He replied, turning behind him to cast a quick glance to where we were supposed to have turned. “I know another way, don’t worry,” he said, turning to cast a charming smile.
I nodded slowly, my hands coming to grip my purse tightly. Part of me knew it was nerves. Afterall, I hadn’t been alone with a man since the summer of my senior year in college. The bundle of anxiety chewed the inside of my stomach.
What if Steve was a murderer? Was he going to take me and kill me? Was he going to kidnap me?
Suddenly, I remembered the paper on my medication bottle.
Paranoia was a side effect of my meds.
I took a deep breath, my eyes falling shut.
Steve isn’t going to kill me, I tried reasoning with myself. Steve seemed like a genuinely nice man. He was awkward and nervous and good looking. Creeps weren’t good looking.
Right?
I looked over at him, his handsome face concentrated on the road as he drove, his other hand gripping his coffee. He had mentioned he was a doctor, and that he had files to look over tonight. In the back, a stack of files sat, a thick yellow folder with a patient's name being all the proof that I needed to know he wasn’t lying.
Creeps weren’t doctors.
The silence in the car seemed to go on and on, and part of me yearned for him to break it.
Opening my mouth to speak, I quickly shut it when I realized I truly had nothing to say. Instead, I continued fiddling with my purse, every so often glancing over to the doctor beside me.
After a couple minutes, he seemed to catch up on this, and he turned to send me a quick look. “Do I have something on my face?”
I smiled, shaking my head with pink tinted cheeks.
“Just can’t get enough of me, can you,” he winked, a laugh leaving his lips.
“Dear god, just keep your eyes on the road, okay?” I giggled, rolling my eyes.
It was about another five minutes of driving before we turned onto a familiar street, and I breathed a small sigh of relief.
It had just been my paranoia.
See? Steve was a nice man.
“It’s this unit right here,” I smiled, and his car came to a stop outside the building, putting it into park.
Neither of us made a move.
Sitting in silence for a couple seconds, I picked up my purse, bringing it against my chest and hugging it, turning to face the man beside me.
He was already looking at me, his blue eyes soft and inviting. Even in the darkness of the car, they seemed to glow.
“Well, um,” I coughed awkwardly, brushing hair from my face. “Thanks for the ride.”
He smiled in response, nodding once, placing his coffee cup into his cup holder.
“Well, uh, I should…I’m just gonna go. Have a good night, Steve.” I smiled, my hand reaching to open the door.
When he said nothing, I hopped out, letting it shut behind me.
Snow fell around me, and suddenly, I longed to be back in Steve’s warm car. I shivered as I wrapped my jacket tighter around me, blinking away the snow from my lashes as I hurried up the sidewalk.
Just as my hand hovered over my building's door handle, a voice called from behind me, and I turned, squinting my eyes to see through the snow.
“Wait, (Y/N)!”
“Steve?” I called back, confused. “What-?”
Finally, Steve reached me, panting and drenched in snow. “I” he breathed heavily, “I’m gonna regret it so much if I don’t. Can I please have your number?” He held his phone out, lips parted as he scanned my shocked face. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again. I don’t wanna wait too long.”
Wiping snow from my frost-nipped face, I breathed a laugh, nodding my head quickly and taking his phone. My heart fluttered as I punched in my number, a handsome grin adoring his face. Handing back his phone, he took a glance at it before switching it off.
My breaths blew out in puffs of smoke, and I licked my chapped lips.
“I’ll text you,” he promised, watching as I pushed open the door of my apartment unit.
“You better,” I mumbled, flustered. “I’ll see you later, Steve.”
With a final smile, I let the door shut behind me, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I was once again greeted with the heater of the apartment lobby. Rushing upstairs and into my own apartment, I locked the door, a huge smile on my face.
I felt giddy, and I couldn’t stop myself from giggling at the thought of Steve. The way he had run into the snow after me, just to get my number.
I blushed at the thought.
Moving to my nightstand, I picked up my medication, quickly grabbing two from the bottle and shoving them into my mouth, swallowing them dry.
I quickly changed into my PJ’s, brushing my teeth and putting my tangled hair up.
Throwing myself onto the bed, I stared up at the roof, and soon, I found myself drifting to sleep, Steve on my mind.
————————————
It was only a few days later that Steve and I had our first date. It had been his idea that we have a picnic under the night sky.
It was a cute idea that I loved, so I didn’t hesitate to say yes.
He had come to my place around eight that night, a bag full of groceries and an expensive bottle of wine. Together, we put together sandwiches and other types of food before getting into his car and making our way to a park nearby.
So, here we sat, a blanket the only barrier between our bodies and the damp grass beneath us. It was cold, but we were prepared. A thick blanket covered each of our bodies on top of jackets and mittens. The cold was strong, but so was our ambition for seeing the stars.
Already on my second glass of wine, I sipped carefully, watching as my breath turned to smoke. Though it was below thirty degrees that night, I could hardly feel it thanks to the blankets and jackets that surrounded me.
Steve sat beside me, his chin lifted as he looked up at the dark sky above us. His eyes gleamed, taking in the beauty of the stars. Slowly, I did the same, staring up into the abyss.
It was truly beautiful.
“Do you see that one there?” Steve asked, his finger lifting to point to a constellation.
I glimpsed where he was pointing, my gaze falling on a clump of stars. I nodded, humming as I took another sip.
“That one’s Leo. The stars take the shape of a lion.” His finger drifted over to another bundle of stars. “Then there’s the Ursa Major. Over there is Cassiopeia.” His hand moved over once more, finger pointed. “This one’s my favorite— the Orion.”
I licked my wine stained lips, the cold nipping at them as I looked towards Orion, amazement gleaming in my eyes.
“In Greek Mythology, Orion was a hunter, just about the fiercest hunter ever. Achilles is the most well known Greek warrior, but I’ve always thought Orion was the greatest.”
I turned to look at him, eyes drinking in the man before me. He stared up at the sky, and suddenly, his eyes flickered to meet my own. I blushed, quickly turning away and taking the last sip of my wine. I didn’t miss the way he smiled in adoration.
“Are you going to have another glass?” I asked, eyeing what was left of the wine.
“Mmhm. It’s all yours. One of us has to drive tonight,” he teased, picking up the bottle and pouring me the last of its contents. I giggled, the alcohol making me feel warm and less awkward.
I liked this version of me.
Bringing the glass back to my lips, he watched me closely as I took another sip, and I looked at him, almost choking on the liquid. “Don’t look at me like that,” I said, flustered. “It makes me feel nervous.”
“I make you feel nervous?” He pressed, a teasing smirk resting on his face. He took a grape from the bowl of fruit, popping it into his mouth.
I snorted at his cocky attitude. “Maybe…just a little bit.” I held my fingers up to show him the amount he made me nervous, and he raised his dark brows.
“Just a little?”
“Mmhmm,” I confirmed, snacking on a strawberry.
His gaze lingered on my face, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He hummed, eyes scanning each detail of my face before flickering them back up to the sky. Suddenly, his hand gently pushed my shoulder, his finger flying backup to point to something in the sky. “Quick, look! It’s a shooting star.”
I glanced upwards, and sure enough, a shooting star passed over our heads.
“Make a wish,” he urged, looking back down towards me.
Quickly, my eyes fell shut, and I tried to find something I truly wanted in life.
A face flashed before my eyes, and my heart fluttered at the familiar warm eyes that once lit up my life.
My wish was decided.
Finally opening my eyes, Steve was still looking at me, his features soft. I smiled gently, taking one last sip of wine from my cup.
He shifted himself on the blanket, leaning to lay down and stare up at the sky. I followed suit, hugging the blanket closer to me.
“Tell me about your family, (Y/N),” he said quietly, his eyelashes fluttering as he looked upwards, his gaze observing the stars above us.
I forced a tight-lipped smile. “I grew up in the foster care system, so, I don’t really know much about them, honestly.”
“Oh,” he mumbled quickly. “I didn’t mean to-“
“It’s fine,” I giggled. “I don’t really mind not having a family. Definitely saves me from the family drama.”
He pursed his lips and nodded. “You’re telling me.” He adjusted himself on the blanket once more, arms coming to rest behind his head. “What about your friends?”
I bit my inner cheek. “I don’t really have any,” I admitted.
He turned to look at me, brows knitted together. “Not even one?”
Silently, I shook my head, ignoring his eyes on me. He looked back up at the sky.
“I had one.”
I sucked in a breath, pausing.
I didn’t really talk about Lilith. I hadn’t spoken her name since the moment everyone began to accept that she was dead and gone; however, this time, something felt right about saying her name. It felt like it would be…okay to tell her story.
To tell Lilith’s story.
“She was the only person in my life, really,” I continued, my eyes never leaving the stars above me. They seemed to urge me to speak, calling for me to continue my story.
“She went missing in May. She had told me she was going to Manhattan for a doctor's appointment, but I knew she was lying. My birthday was that Friday, and we had been in Manhattan together a couple weeks before.” I sighed sadly at the memory of Lilith and I walking the streets, glancing into the windows and gazing at expensive gifts we longed to afford but knew we never would. “I had seen these beautiful necklaces—two of them with pink heart diamonds and gold chains. They were the most beautiful necklaces we had ever seen, and I had promised her that one day, they’d be ours.” A solemn laugh fell from my lips, and I could feel Steve’s gaze burning into my face.
I could feel tears welling in my eyes, but I blinked them away.
“She had spent the next coming weeks saving every cent of her paycheck. She had picked up so many shifts from her job that I had hardly seen her during the time between our shopping day and the day she left. I waited and waited for her to come back.” A tear slid from my glazed eyes, trailing down my face until it reached my lips, and I licked it away, a sad smile gracing my lips. “My birthday came and went. So did Fourth of July, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and next week, it’ll be Christmas.”
Steve was silent beside me, and I felt a warm hand caress my arm, his thumb massaging the area in comfort. Leaning up onto his arms, he leaned over me, his face contorted into a look of grief. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N)…I-I couldn’t even imagine-“ His hand reached up to wipe away a tear from my eye, eyes trailing up and down my face.
It was as if a boulder had been lifted from my chest, and I breathed a shaky sigh. It felt good to be comforted, to have someone to wipe away your tears. I had forgotten what it was like to have someone care, and now, as Steve’s hand brushed against my cheek, I couldn’t stop myself from leaning into his touch.
His lips turned up into a gentle smile, blue eyes glistening in the moonlight.
Lilith would want me to be happy. That was all she had ever wanted for me in life, so wouldn’t she want the same in death?
Death.
All these months, I had been fighting the idea that Lilith was dead, battling a war in my mind that so desperately ached to see her again. When you’re alone, it’s easy to hyperfixate on daydreams, to fill your head with delusions and convince yourself that things aren’t the way they truly are.
Lilith was gone. My best friend was dead, and no amount of sulking and isolating myself was going to change that. No amount of depriving myself with human connection was going to bring her back.
Staring into his blue eyes awoke something in me. Staring into his blue eyes made me realize what I was missing in life. It made me realize I couldn’t go back into the abyss. I could no longer stare up at my ceiling longing to sleep and never wake up. I could no longer find comfort in scalding hot water, or spending all my free time in bed.
I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t.
Staring up into his blue eyes, I did something that even surprised myself.
I leaned upwards, closing the gap between us, and pressed my lips against his.
#bucky barnes#sebastian stan#dark!sebastian stan x reader#dark!sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#dark!steve kemp#fresh movie#steve kemp#dark! sebastian stan x reader#Steve kemp x reader
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𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙠𝙚𝙢𝙥
masterlist | s.s characters masterlist
WARNING: These fic may contain disturbing content so please read all the warnings before you proceed. I mean…it’s Steve Kemp we’re talking about.
ONESHOT
I’m By Your Side by @thebluemage
Steve takes care of you, while you’re sick.
Marking What’s His by @thebluemage
Steve doesn’t like it when another man touches you, and he shows you what happens.
sugar pie, honey bunch by @charnelhouse
He knew she would be different. He’d known it the second he saw her.
needs by @heavysoldat
with your period worse than ever, you’re left almost bed-ridden in nothing but his clothes. and when you’re sat there, looking so pretty, steve can’t deny himself. a man has needs, after all.
Honey, Dinner’s Ready by @mavsstar
You’ve never been bad, always a good girl. One day a certain someone comes in the picture and you snap.
Opposite Reflection by @/mavsstar
Your love for Steve Kemp runs deep. You say it’s you being a hopeless romantic but what does he have to say about it?
A New Appetite by @bxcketbarnes
Fresh Meat by @bxcketbarnes
red flags and long nights by @buckycuddlebuddy
spending three months with a stranger whom you shared a house with apparently was not enough to know them. apparently it led you to ignore a lot of warnings that you should have seen before, but it was too late.
Stockholm Syndrome and it’s Side Effects by @sstan-hoe
steve gives you stockholm syndrome and well let's just say; you gotta make sure you're his only one...
Restless Heart by @shamevillain
Part of loving somebody means accepting their flaws. And loving yourself means coming to terms with your own, no matter how fucked up they may be.
my beautiful odette by @onceuponastory
After seeing a performance of the Swan Lake ballet, Steve Kemp develops an obsession with the lead dancer Y/N, and decides that she has to be his. Whatever it takes.
gut feeling by @onceuponastory
After a young woman goes missing, Detective Y/N interviews one of the last people to see her alive...Plastic Surgeon Steve Kemp.
just like you by @imyourbratzdoll
steve becomes obsessed with you, and because he's too blinded by your beauty, he doesn't know you are just like him, maybe even better.
unusual dish by @lokiskitten
in order to survive your kidnapper sick and murderous tendencies, you agree to submit to one of his offers : feast on human meat whilst allowing him to watch. Though things take an unexpectedly inappropriate turn.
Fettered Attachment by @wh0reforoldmen
Being Steve’s captive is one thing- but falling for him is another.
Yours Forever by @antisocialwritingx
Steve decided to leave his wife and kids for the one victim he chose to keep for himself, you. It turns out that you both have a loving relationship after a little work put in from Steve.
just a taste by @jessybarnes
face riding.
heads will roll by @sgt-seabass
A visit to the doctors takes a turn you didn't expect.
can you read my fears? by @dollsplat
It’s No Good by @theimpossibleg1rl
You hadn’t meant to fall for him. But then again, Steve hadn’t meant to fall for you either.
You didn’t need that, did you? by @highonmarvel
You meet a man at the bar who loves your thighs.
Honest by @highonmarvel
Steve’s never lied to you.
SERIES
toxic by @extremelyblackandwhite
steve kemp has found his match.
A Well Respected Man by @sableseb
#steve kemp x reader#steve kemp#steve kemp x y/n#steve kemp x you#steve kemp x dark!reader#steve kemp fic rec#steve kemp smut#steve kemp imagine#steve kemp oneshot#steve kemp series#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan x y/n#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan oneshot#sebastian stan series#dark!steve kemp#fresh
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Dark Steve Kemp
this man is the absolute love of my life. i love all of you who’ve written about him. please feel free to send me pieces similar to the ones below.
ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪs ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴘᴇᴄɪғɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪsᴛᴜʀʙɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄs. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs.
✸ indicates my personal favourites, but all the below fics are absolutely fantastic.
◌ One Shots
No Escape, by @buckybarnesandmarvel
→ [you try to escape steve. he shows you there is no escape]
needs, by @heavysoldat ✸
→ [with your period worse than ever, you’re left almost bed-ridden in nothing but his clothes. and when you’re sat there, looking so pretty, steve can’t deny himself. a man has needs, after all]
The Hand That Feeds, by @cadaverousnight ✸
→ [Steve finds you in a compromising position; it would be cruel of him not to offer his help]
Take It Easy, by @cadaverousnight ✸
→ [Just how far are you willing to go to convince Steve he can trust you?]
Fettered Attachments, by @wh0reforoldmen
→ [Being Steve’s captive is one thing- but falling for him is another]
A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing, by @thevillainswhore ✸
→ [It was an art - one that took many years and many sacrifices to perfect, and Steve had managed to become a master at it. There was just one thing he would not fully commit to sacrificing, at least not the important parts that kept life essence flowing: you]
Honest, by @highonmarvel
→ [Steve’s never lied to you]
You didn’t need that, did you?, by @highonmarvel ✸
→ [You meet a man at the bar who loves your thighs]
Wine and Dine, by @nicestgirlonline
→ [You get stood up on your first date in forever, luckily Steve swoops in to save the day…]
the possession, by @sgt-seabass
→ [Steve teaches his sunflower a lesson]
mind games, by @sgt-seabass
→ [Sunflower learns what happens when she disobeys her daddy]
A Well Respected Man, by @sableseb
→ [no description]
◌ Two- or three-parters
slave to pain & Shattered, by @sgt-seabass ✸
→ [You escape Steve’s basement & A failed escape attempt lands you on Steve’s operating table]
◌ Series
A New Life, by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor ✸
→ [You have an unexpected encounter in the park]
P1
P2
P3
#steve kemp x reader#dark!steve kemp#dark steve kemp#dark steve kemp x you#dark steve kemp x y/n#dark!steve kemp x reader#dark!steve kemp x you#dark!steve kemp x y/n
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Mine.
Title: Mine
Dark!Daddy!Steve Kemp x Little!wife!reader
Words: 2K
Summary: You finally get to leave the house but A friend makes you doubt your relationship with your husband Steve but he has no problem reminding you of your place.
Warnings: Knife Play, dub-con/non-con,threats, ddlg dynamic,fingering,choking,spanking,dom/sub dynamic,p in v sex, intimidation,teasing, possessiveness, manipulation,hitting,dacryphilia
A/N: this was supposed to be a jock Ari Levinson fic but it didn't save properly sorry for the delay
*Please don't repost without permission If you use my writing as inspiration please ask first and credit me
......
You hook the clasp of your diamond necklace together as you stare at your reflection in the porcelain white vanity....until you feel hands on your waist.
"Steve please-"
"Where are you going" he says as he starts leaving gentle kisses along your neck.
And his grip on your waist turns into a needy insatiable one.
Steve hates when you leave. He almost never lets you out of the house without his supervision. He rarely says the words no but when the shoes you were going to wear start to vanish into thin air, and your car keys are nowhere to be seen just around the time you're going to leave. You can't help but suspect him as the culprit.
He gives you everything. money, food, A beautiful home, all the little doll clothes your heart desires and all the love in the world. So what reason would you ever have to leave his side.
Well that's what you imagine his reasoning is for practically holding you hostage 24/7.
"Baby I'm just going out with a few friends"
He stills his motions processing your words but his grip slowly starts to tighten around your waist, and you immediately turn attempting to soothe him.
"Stevie I promise I'll only be gone for an hour or two"
You put on your prettiest pout and cup his cheeks in your hands. peppering his face in lipstick kisses doing your best to butter him up in hopes he'll give in and let you go.
"Who's going" he questions giving you a rather dull look, but you know he's looking for you to say one wrong word as an excuse for you to stay.
"No one special just Greg, kate, and... mallory"
And you watch as his face morphs into one of utter disgust.
"steve ..."
"No..." "No! absolutely fucking not" he pulls away from your embrace and you follow after him.
Steve dispises Mallory. He's convinced she fills your head with 'bad things' those bad things are mostly her telling you to leave steve because she gets an off vibe from him, Whatever that means, but clearly it upsets steve.
You wrap your arms around his back and snuggle into his muscular shoulders "Please steve I haven't left in ages".
You feel his shoulders untense and decide to press him further.
"I've been a good girl lately haven't I daddy?"
He looks over his shoulder at you.
"Don't you think your good girl deserves a treat"
You give him your sweetest puppy eyes and he caves.
He faces you head on arms crossed and a stern expression. your gaze falls to his feet as you twiddle your fingers in anticipation.
"I want you back no later than 2"
You nod at him eagerly.
"And I want you to call me when you get there and when your leaving“
"And no talking to Mallory"
You try to hide the frown creeping on your face but Steve knows you too well.
“I mean it" he stalks toward you cupping your chin making you look into his deep blue eyes "I don't don't want you talking to her okay sweetie, not a word"
And he seals that sentence with a kiss to your forehead and you don't have the will to say no to him.
"Okay daddy I won't"
He smiles at your compliance and wraps you in A warm embrace that's a little too tight.
.....
Golden rays beam through the window as the scent of fresh coffee beans warm your senses. Slowly stirring your straw through the foamy cappuccino that's piping hot, you exhale softly taking in the comforting atmosphere.
"So, How are you and Steve doing"
You're drawn out of your sunny daydream by A familiar nasally voice.
You ignore her question and act like you're more invested in Kate and Greg's conversation, but you can still feel her eyes on you.
" Well I mean, I'm just saying...You know after that last fiasco at Kate's dinner party"
" I'm surprised he even let you out of the house "
She jokes but you hardly find it funny, Steve got so angry that your ass was red for a week.
you roll your eyes at her.
"Well, here I am" you answer giving her the fakest smile you can muster up.
“Don't you ever find it weird how you can't leave without his permission?"
You quirk an eyebrow up at her "Well I-"
"I mean the guy has a tracker on your phone like really??"
"you'd think he wouldn't be so paranoid, you guys live in such A secluded area"
"its real strange girl, like if my man was ever that controlling of me“
"I just don't think I could live with myse-"
You abruptly stand from your cushioned seat and leave through the doors of the cafe exit, trying your best to ignore the intrusive thoughts invading your psyche.
.....
" So how was your little get together honey"
Steve says with A surprisingly genuine smile.
"did you have a good time with Kate and Greg?"
His voice sounds slightly concerned with your lack of response.
You nod your head but you don't look at him.
" you called me an hour early doll, you sure everythings okay?'
You nod again and lay your head against the seat following the forest scenery with your eyes.And thankfully Steve doesn't pester you with anymore questions.
...........
The black mustang pulls into the driveway of your picturesque house surrounded by nature, its modernized and stocked full with the finest architecture and the latest technology.
Steve unlocks the door and you both enter.
He then goes to hook his jacket on the coat rack but when he turns back around you're nowhere to be seen.
Steve wanders the spacious house until he eventually finds you standing in your room. Eyes fixed on the scenery through window twirling your necklace.
You feel something looming towards you, but you're too in your head to care. You feel Steve's warm touch as he turns your body to face him.
You can't cover the look of worry on your face but still you attempt to avoid his eyes.
"what happened pumpkin hm?" He brushes your hair away from your head as he searches your face for an answer.
"Baby, Look at me..."
He tries to get you to talk to him but you refuse, and he notices his usual sweet talking isn't having the same affect it usually does"
"Have you been talking to Mallory" he says in a accusingly cold tone.
it's only when you shiver and bite your lip he has his answer.
"Who do you belong to..."
Steve asks his signature question because it helps him gauge how much correction and fixing his doll needs.
He stares at you in silence but the tension instantly gets to you.
" I..."
Before you can even start Steve hoists you up by your waist carrying you to his room.
"Steve No!! Listen I'm sorry!"
You try to wiggle out of his grip. He doesn't budge one bit, and continues carrying you like you weigh nothing.
...........
Your body is thrown at the bed like A ragdoll and before you even realize what's happening.Steve is manhandling you onto his lap and pulling up your skirt.
Usually you would just give into his force, but at the back of your mind you feel mallory's words. So you struggle against him with what little strength you have.
Steve's gaze bores down on you like a thousand fires but he doesn't say a word.
Smack!
A familiar burn ignites the skin of your plush bottom, and you try to hold in the painful whimper as your eyes start to water.
Steve relentlessly bruises your soft flesh.
You grip the fabric of his pants till your knuckles turn white, sobbing and crying as you try to use the last of your energy to escape his hold on you.
Deep down you both know how pointless it is for you to resist him.
After some time Steve's assault on your ass ceases and his palm rests gently on the tender flesh.
You sniffle and wipe your nose trying to regain your thoughts.
Steve places A subtle kiss on your spine and rubs your sore butt in slow soothing circles. Until he feels your muscles relax and your sobs dissipate.
"You know I love you honey"
"More than anything else in the world"
Your heart pangs in guilt and you feel yourself soften at his words.
"So much so... That you can't go out anymore sweetie"
"Not without me at least"
He places A kiss somewhere on your body, but you don't really care where because what the hell did he just say to you.
You feel the heat rise in your body and you can't control your mouth any longer.You immediately get off his lap distancing yourself from him while still on the bed.
"Steve no... You can't do that to me"
He lifts himself off of the bed and crosses his arms giving you a sympathetic look.
"Baby love .." he mutters as he slowly reaches a hand out towards you.
"Don't touch me" you hiss at him dodging his touch.
And you see his eyes go from dark ocean blue, to a violent abyss.
Steve doesn't always verbally warn you about testing him, but his eyes and body language tell you everything you need to know.
He reaches for you again.
"I said don't fucking touch me!"
You yell slapping his hands off of you.
Unfortunately you don't stop there, you go off on him.
"I'm tired of being trapped in this stupid fucking house with you all day!"
"I deserve to leave whenever the hell I please"
"I'm a human fucking being Steve, not A dumb animal you can just lock in a cage"
You feel your voice warble, and bring your knuckles to your eyes trying to mask the tears.
"It's not fair Steve..."
"You say you love me... yet you never let me do anything it's cruel"
You look down at your lap in shame.
.. Then you hear laughter
You look up at Steve and he's bent over, arms clutching his stomach trapped in A fit of joyous hysteria.
Your eyes widen in disbelief and your face reddens in embarrassment. You just bared your soul to him and he thinks it's fucking funny what!
He eventually collects himself and wipes the comedic tears from his eyes.
"Oh... I'm sorry princess"
"I just find it so fucking adorable when you think you have any say in what I decide for you"
He sighs and starts walking towards you.
Instantly you scoot back further on the bed and gulp nervously.
Steve has that terrifyingly unhinged look on his face. The same one he has when he finally leaves the basement after hours of doing god knows what.
You're a second too late when Steve grabs you harshly by your soft hair pinning you to the bed.
He then proceeds to climb on you, trapping you with his weight.
You want to fight him you really do.
The thing is you've learned that it's better not to when he's like this. You pushed his limits only once and let's just say... Kitchen knife wounds are a bitch to heal and you were half convinced he was going to eat you.
Steve glares at you with demonic eyes as his gaze travels to your lips.
You see him lean in and you panic.
Smack!
You...you hit him
....Oh no.
"S-steve, M'sorry I didn't mean to-"
He gets off of you and vanishes from the room.
You want to move.
run, hide, or something but you're too confused to do anything.
You're lost in your thoughts until you see Steve standing back at the doorway with an ominous look on his face, but you're relieved that he doesn't look as pissed off.
You start to feel a strange sense of relief at his mysteriousness. then you look at his left hand and that's when you see it.
Your heart sinks to the floor.
It must be at least 10 or 11 inches.
Stainless steel with a rubber grip.
Must be freshly sharpened, it's Steve's favorite. He cuts only the best meats with it and he makes sure it's well maintained.
Steve brings the knife up to his face getting a closer look, and he traces the edges of it. Admiring its intricacy eyes trained on every ridge.
"What did she say to you"
"I won't ask again"
You're practically pissing yourself at this point.
So you think it's best not to say or do anything to anger him further.
"S-she said... it's odd I don't go outside"
Your voice trembled horriblly when you spoke.
"Odd huh..." He says to himself, looking as lost in his head as you are.
And then he starts getting uncomfortably close.
You whimper but try to act like you're not scared shitless as he climbs back on top of you.
You try not to react, and you're doing pretty good at keeping your composure. then steve holds the knife directly to your neck.
And you start bawling your eyes out.
You're busy battling tears and trying not to move an inch as you feel the cold blade pressed firmly against your flesh. Deathly afraid the tiniest movement will slit your throat right open.
But you're snapped out of your stupor by a thick cold finger invading your entrance.
Steve pulls his finger from you and inspects his hand, knife still flush against your neck.
He holds his finger in front of your face.
it's coated in a clear sticky substance with a liquid bead at the top of his finger threatening to drip off.
"You see this honey" he waves his finger in front of your face.
"This is why you're mine" he says licking your slick from his finger.
"You can forget who your owner is all you want but your body won't"
He laughs at the dumb look on your face.
"There's knife against your neck baby"
"one little wrong move and I could kill you and yet you're dripping for me"
Your face is burning up in a weird mixture of fear and shame.there's no way you're turned on by something like this...right?
Steve angles the knife to where a bit of your neck is shown, and he attacks the exposed flesh with aggressive bites.
You try your hardest to hold in the inexcusable moans wanting to spill from your lips. But when you feel Steve's hot tongue drag against the dip of your collar bone, a shameless loud whimper escapes.
You mentally try to zip your mouth shut but then two thick fingers penetrate your soft walls, digging for that certain spot that makes you scream.
Your moans and whimpers fill the room and you can't lie the knife against your neck starts to add to the pleasure "Steve!" You whine.
Trying to keep your head as still as possible when Steve's fingers repeatedly prod and poke at your g spot.
Your body shakes as a sense of euphoria spreads from your core to the rest of your body.
Steve doesn't let you ride out your orgasm like he usually does, instead he flips you onto all fours and pushes your head down into the mattress.
Your ass is sticking straight up in the air as your arousal leaks down your thighs onto the sheets.
The knife is thrown beside your head and you hear the sound of a zipper being pulled.
Steve's wastes no time and plunges his cock deep in you until his cockhead kisses your womb.
"Steve no! It's too big take it ou-"
"Ah!"
Steve thrusts his hips into you at A mind numbing pace, wet skin slapping together as you feel his dick brush through every fold and trigger every nerve in your sensitive hole.
You can see your reflection through the knife and watch your face contort. your mind and body feeling as if it's going to break every time he brushes that soft spot deep inside you.
But then he stops and it's like someone hit the power off button on your mind.
But you come back to your senses when he grabs you roughly and forces you to lie on your side.
You gasp as your leg is yanked in the air and then thrown over his shoulder.
You both briefly make eye contact
"Steve..." you pout at him.
But he just shoves his cock back in you, it going deeper than it ever has.
Your face would say you're in pain but in reality it's the best damn thing you've ever felt.
Steve starts fucking you at the brutal pace from before, only at this angle each thrust has his dick crashing into your womb and you start babbling utter nonsense unable to cope with the pleasure.
Steve grips your throat forcing you to look at him.
"You still wanna go outside baby?" He probes.
"you don't need daddy to take care of you anymore is that it hm?"
You shake your head no at him barely able to speak.
"I want words slut"
He rarely calls you that but god it makes your pussy tingle and throb around him.
"N-no! daddy no I don't" you struggle to speak as he keeps grinding his hips against yours.
*No? But that's what you wanted right doll"
"You don't need me anymore"
"you don't need daddy cause you're A big strong girl who doesn't need my help is that it?"
You're fucking crying.
No! I only want you!"
"Just wanna be here with you..." Your throat burns from moaning and sobbing.
"Say it then" he says in a low sinister tone.
"Say you don't wanna go"
Steve glares at you, with a serious face to match and his grip tightens on your neck purposely making it hard for you to talk.
"I-i don't wanna go outside anymore daddy.."
"I wanna to be here with you-"
you say as he fucks you like a cheap whore.
He stares at you as you sob.
"Good girl..." He says continuing to pound your wet cunt.
You moan embarrassingly loud as he claims your tight little snatch with every thrust.His fat dick hitting your cervix repeatedly making your body writhe in pleasure.
"Steve god fuck!' you sob into him.
You feel His balls slap against your pussy and you break.
When he cums he squeezes too hard around your throat but the lack of oxygen only increases your high.
You feel his warm cum flood your pussy.
Washing away every thought in your head.
A warm hand cups your cheek. And you look at Steve.He stares back at you with his usual loving look.
"Mine" he says possessively caressing your blushed face.
"Yours" you say with a smile.
And the way he's looking at you is A reminder that Steve is all the freedom you'll ever need.
#dark!steve kemp#steve kemp smut#steve kemp x reader#steve kemp x you#steve kemp x y/n#x little!reader
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Red Flags
So much for your obsession with murder mysteries… They sure didn’t help you with seeing his red flags.
Pairing: Steve Kemp x reader
Word count: 220
Warnings: It’s Steve Kemp… that’s a warning in itself. Talk of serial killers, implied kidnapping, implied murder.
A/N: I wrote this quickly before bed, and it has not been proof or beta read. Any mistakes are my own. This was just a quick little Drabble that came to me.
*divider by @firefly-graphics
Growing up you were always obsessed with murder mystery shows. You were the type that was determined to figure out who the killer was before anyone else did. Your friends would groan as you’d go on and on about how if this was real life you’d be able to spot a serial killer from a mile away.
Now, as you laid on the ground, it all seemed so laughable. You were so gullible to believe you’d ever stand a chance. That you’d ever be able to see through someone like Steve.
No, sixteen year old you would have believed that you’d never fall for someone like Steve Kemp. There was no way that you wouldn’t see the red flags. But somehow you ignored them. His smile, his laugh, his touch… they all distracted you from the truth.
“Don’t worry, you’re my favorite one.” He told you, with his smile that you so easily fell for. Those words were supposed to comfort you, but instead sent a chill down your spine. “I’ll make sure to use the others first.”
If someone were to watch your life on the movie screen you’re sure they’d be able to see where this all went wrong. But for now, all you can do is to lay here and wait… wait for the nightmare to end.
#Steve kemp#Steve kemp x reader#steve kemp x y/n#Steve kemp Drabble#Steve kemp drabbles#Steve kemp fic#steve kemp x female reader#steve kemp x you#Steve kemp x fem!reader#dark!steve kemp#fresh 2022#sebastian stan#mickeyhenrys drabbles
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not marvel (dark)
warning; dark content is content that intentionally deals with disturbing matter such as rape, abuse, stalking, etc. dead dove: do not eat.
———
lloyd hansen
ransom drysdale
rick sanchez
steve kemp
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Don't Speak 44
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)
Character: librarian!Andy Barber
Note: took a while.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
Ann covers your mouth with hers, her tongue delving inside as you garble. You lay, still as marble as her hand slides down your pelvis. She curls her fingers and rolls along your clit, playing with you as you squeak.
She rocks her hand as your body reacts. You don't want it too. You want it to stop. Her, too.
She grabs the back of your head, her other hand firmly between your legs as she forces it further between your thighs. She pokes a finger inside you as you whimper and flatten yourself against the mattress. He lifts herself, staying attached to you as she straddles you below.
She leans on her hand, tilting as if it's connected to her pelvis, fucking you as she pushes in a second finger. You squeeze your eyes shut, struggling to breathe as she traps you.
"Mmm," she drags her lips down her cheek and you feel the gloss smear on your skin, "you delicious, aren't you??" She purrs, "he's going to like you so much."
She rams her fingers as deep as she can, crushing her hand against you violently. You whimper but don't stop her. You're terrified and confused. What is she doing? What does she mean?
“Relax, honey, I'm just getting you ready for him,” she growls and nuzzles you, “you're so tight. He’s really going to enjoy that.”
You squirm as a whine escapes you. You hide beneath your eyelids as she continues her intrusion. Her nose touches yours, lips brushing as her breath cascades hotly across your cheeks. She closes the distance and crushes her mouth to yours, her tongue delving inside without welcome.
Your head pulses and spins, your body sets alight as you wriggle, helpless to her affections. Your heart lurches as a vision flashes in your mind. It’s not Ann, it’s Andy atop of you, touching you, forcing you, smothering you.
You turn your face away and gasp. Your eyes roll open, glossy with tears as you push on Ann’s shoulders. You’re too weak to make a difference as she nips and kisses at your neck instead. She keeps you splayed her legs against yours as she tilts her hand, fucking you to the knuckle as she puffs in tandem.
“Mm,” she purrs, “be a good girl... yeah, are you getting wet for him? For my husband?”
“Please,” you whisper.
“Don’t be ashamed. A pathetic thing like you has simple desires, don’t you?” She taunts, “he’s your doctor, sweetheart, and you’re panting like a dog to have him.”
“Please... stop,” you beg as you grasp her upper arm, “I don’t...”
“I can see it,” she snarls and bits along your jawline, “baby, I’m not mad at it. He needs a new toy.” She shoves her fingers as deep as they’ll go, “he might play with you but he comes home to me.”
You sniffle and slap your hand down on the bed. You can’t fight her. You deserve this. She’s right. You’re a bad person. You like Dr. Kemp more than you should. You’re a patient and she’s his wife.
“Mmm,” she drags herself down your body, keeping her hand buried between your legs, “let me help you...”
She kneels between your legs and tears down your pants. Your body bounces on the bed as you lay paralysed to her whims. She untangles your pants from your legs and hurls away the fabric. She bends to breathe into the tuft of hair along your pelvis.
She nuzzles and pokes her tongue between your folds. You clench your teeth and stare at the wall. You hold air in your chest as she keeps her fingers sliding in and out, teasing your bud as she hums. Your feet arch even as you fight to stay number to her touch.
Just like with Andy, you want it to end. You need it to be over. You wiggle your nose as you try to keep the tears from falling. How could you ever believe you were saved? More foolishly, how could you think Steve could ever like you like that?
Your eyes glaze over as the plucking of her tongue twangs in your core. No, no, no, you don’t want to feel. You pant and puff, trying to hold back the effect of her violation. You dig your nails into the blanket and squeak as your insides coil and release. You spasm and whimper through the uninvited orgasm and bite your lip until you taste blood.
She keeps touching you, invading you as she shoves her fingers into your cunt. She pushes to her knuckles and slides back out, slow as she pulls her mouth off of you. She purrs as she dips in and out, long strokes that have you squirming. It hurts, more than physically.
You turn your head straight and cry out as you notice a shadow behind her. You couldn’t hear Steve past your own deafening breaths. So caught up in the whirlwind of your horror that your heartbeat tamped out all around you.
Ann tilts her head up as he stands behind her. His thick hands rest on her shoulders, kneading them as he bends to kiss her lips. She murmurs something you can’t make out and drags her fingers down your thigh, leaving a wet streak down your flesh.
She shifts back on her heels and stands, turning to her husband as you sniffle. You can’t hold back anymore. You’re mortified. You push your legs together as he caresses her cheek and whispers to her. He turns to you, his blue eyes drifting over your body.
You sit up as he presses a knee to the mattress. You bend your legs and fold them against your chest. He comes towards you and tickles up your calves.
“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” he coos, “you can trust me.”
“Please,” you croak, “you... you’re married.”
“Sweetie, it’s... open. An arrangement. It’s fine. You’re not doing anything wrong,” he trails his hand up your calf, “just relax.”
“Steve, I...” you pout.
He pauses and sits back on his heels, his forehead lines and his face falls, “I thought... I thought you liked me.”
“I do but I didn’t know...” you look at Ann as she watches you with a smirk, biting her index fingers coyly.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve said something, I know, but I... I like you too,” he breathes, “and she knew about you. All this time. Wasn't she nice to you?” He turns his head, “Ann...”
“She came,” she pokes her finger into her mouth and sucks on it, popping it out, “she’s sweet. Why don’t you have a taste?”
You blanch and peer between them. Your heart is fluttering wildly. You’re dizzy but you can’t decipher the swirling inside of you. You don’t know if you want this. You don’t what you want.
You bat your eyes at Steve and your heart flips. No, you know you want Steve. That day you touched yourself and he flashed into your mind you were sure. For the first time in your life, you really wanted something.
“Sweetheart,” leans forward, his hands on the mattress, “can I kiss you?”
Your lip quivers. He says it’s okay. She’s not mad. So it must be...
Can you really say no? It’s their house. They welcomed you in and if you leave... what do you do? Go back to Andy?
You nod, “okay.”
She smile and moves towards you slowly. He leans over your knees and cradles your face. Your nerves go haywire, fiery as they ping off of each other. You dreamt of this. His hands on you, gentle and patient, him bending his head, his lips inches from yours. Your mouths meet and sparks fly.
You squeeze your eyes shut and try to forget the other body in the room. He hums and you put your hand on his arm, bracing him as you push your lips against his. His tongue pokes around and you open your mouth. It’s much nicer than kissing Andy.
He moves closer, keeping his mouth on yours. His hand crawls up your leg and he urges your knees apart. You unlock them and he moves between them. He lays you down slowly, delving deep into your mouth, devouring you. You’re breathless and windswept by his intensity.
His lips slip down your cheek and his hand creeps down your body. He tugs at your sweater, rolling it up your torso. He pushes it up and up and up. You raise your arms and he parts as he pulls it above your head. He sweeps it off your arms and throws it away.
He falls on you again as you squeak. He crushes you beneath him as he kisses you fervently, hungrily. You feel his need against you.
“Mm, honey, you’re such a tease,” Ann taunts and your lashes flick.
He draws back, “relax, sweetheart,” he pets your cheek and once more smothers your lips.
He growls into your mouth, rolling his hips against you, pushing his rigid excitement against your naked pelvis. You whine and squeeze his shoulder, your other hand clasping around the front of his shirt. The friction fills you with torturous heat.
He parts again, kissing the tip of your nose, then your forehead, your cheeks, your jawline. He slides down your body leaving a speckling of kisses along your flesh. He feels the thin fabric of your bra and nips at each tit, burying his face between them.
“You always play with your food,” Ann’s shadow shifts and she sits in the chair in the corner.
You can’t see much past Steve’s shoulders as he bends over you, dragging himself back. He lowers himself to his stomach and hooks his hands around your thighs. His hot breath scours over your cunt and you gasp. You push yourself up on your elbows and watch him nuzzle the patch of coarse curls.
He flicks is tongue between your folds quickly and you twitch. He does it again and you react just the same. He purrs and delves his tongue down along your lips and swipes it up slowly. His eyes stick to yours as you watch dumbly.
He centres on your clit and seals his lips around it, sucking as you cry out at the sparkling pressure. Your arms collapse and fall flat on your back. You arch as he hums and pushes your legs against the sides of his head. He rocks his head, growling as he laps you up, moving you with him.
Your fingers curls and you drag them up and down your stomach, leaving hot lines as you writhe and moan. You reach down and feel his thick waves, clutching them as you push your pelvis into him. He is so warm, so delicate, so delightful. He’s nicer than you could ever dream.
Shallow puffs scrape from your throat and your chest rises and falls. Your voice escapes in little mewls and moans, piquing as you tug on his hair and quake. You cum, feeling how you slicken in his mouth, how his tongue spread around your pleasure. That sensation tingles through you from head to toe.
Your eyes snap up as suddenly a hand frames your chin. Ann sits on the bed sideways, she’s naked. She bends over you, kissing you. You babble, weakly nudging her with your hand. Steve’s tongue swirls and has you too spastic to resist. She pulls backs, circling the tip of her nose around yours, and she sighs.
“Steve, I want to see you in her,” she turns to face him, reaching to toy with your tits.
He lifts himself, his face flushed, his lips and nose glistening. His eyes are alight. Your head lolls back and forth.
Ann pulls down the cups of your bra, tweaking so you cry out. She gropes and grabs, twirling her thumb around your budding nipples. You bring your hands to your sides and clasp the blankets.
Steve strips off his sweater, his hair messy as he drops it over the end of the bed. He stands to push down his jeans as his erection bulges inside his briefs. You gurgle as Ann continues to play with you, tickling up and down your stomach before once more fondling your chest.
Steve rolls down his briefs and springs free. You gape at his size and tense. Ann leans down to press her cheek to yours, “relax, baby, he’s going to take good care of you.”
She turns her head and kisses your cheek before she sits up again. Her hand dances around your torso as she purrs and watches her husband kneel between your knees. His thighs press to your and he prods along your folds. He rubs his tip against you, wetting himself, up and down, smearing your juices around.
“Hurry up,” Ann demands.
He exhales, his muscled chest straining as you bit your lip. He pushes against your entrance and slides into you. He inches in, little by little, and Ann leans forward. She stares between your legs as he sinks to his limit and yours. Your body racks and you reach down as you whimper.
“Fuck...” Steve groans, his voice raspy like a snarling beast.
“Is she tight, baby?” Ann asks, “hmm, is she?”
“Yeah,” he pulls back and rolls back in. You moan and grip your own hips as your toes curl. “She’s squeezing me so good.”
“Keep fucking her,” Ann sneers, “fuck her good.”
Ann bounces around the bed, hovering next to her husband, pressing against him as she reaches to squeeze his ass. She kisses his shoulder as he groans and rocks his hips smoothly into you. Your eyes roll back as your walls quiver.
“You better fill her up,” Ann snarls, “I want her leaking with you, baby.”
He ruts into you hard, jolting you as your legs splay around him limply. He squeezes your thighs, holding you in place as he speeds up thrust by thrust. You look down hazily. He snaps his hips as Ann brings her hand over one of his. She hums and leans her head against him.
“Are you going to cum?” She taunts, “huh, baby, are you gonna gush inside of her? You going to make a mess...”
“Stop--” he hisses.
“Come on, she’s almost there,” she reaches to put her thumb on your clit, rolling it around until you’re whining. “Baby girl, go on and cum on his dick.” She presses harder as you tense, “do it.”
You push your head back and your chest up. You orgasm as Steve keeps his rhythm. You clench around him, clinging to him as he groans and grunts. He slams into you, over and over, his voice drone out of him through gaspy breaths.
“That’s it, you fill her up nice and good,” Ann flicks your oversensitive clit, “oh, bad boy, cumming in your own patient. What a bad doctor.”
He slows and your body goes slack. As he stops, still half inside of you, you feel his cum trickling down from your cunt. You blink and peek down at him as he hangs his head. Ann rubs his arm and he shrugs her off. He slides out and backs off the bed.
“Why the fuck would you say that?” He growls under his breath as he snatch his pants off the floor.
He pulls them on, leaving them undone as he holds them up and stalks to the door. She giggles and watches him go. She sighs and looks at you as the door snaps shut.
“He can be so sensitive,” she wiggles her fingers between your folds and you tremble, “just like you, huh?”
#andy barber#dark andy barber#dark!andy barber#andy barber x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#au#librarian au#steve kemp#dark steve kemp#dark!steve kemp#steve kemp x reader#fresh#defending jacob#don't speak
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You didn’t need that, did you?
Steve Kemp: You meet a man at the bar who loves your thighs.
An entry for Day 3 of the exciting @sintember challenge!
Prompt: You didn’t need that, did you?, ft Steve Kemp, Fresh (2022).
Warnings: Complete filth; very subtle cannibalistic tendencies; implied surgical mutilation. 18+!
An hour you had been sitting on an uncomfortable barstool, slowly sipping on drinks. You don’t even know why you came, maybe you thought it would be fun, maybe you thought you’d meet someone; neither of those was the case.
You drop your head on your shoulder, face to the right at the stool that had been empty seconds ago, you could have sworn. You startle slightly at the sight, though you’re not unpleasantly surprised; a man with odd cerulean eyes, a sharp jawline and a debonair smirk has his head tilted your way.
“Did I scare you?”
He asks. It seems lighthearted, you know it is, but really deep in your stomach you feel a twist of some kind, barely, though, your senses hyper focused on how he’s making you feel with his hungry gaze. Hungry.
“A little,” you admit with a small smile, taking the last sip of your drink.
He lets out a breathy laugh and offers, “Can I buy you another?”
Steve, is his name, and for the rest of the night, he’s absolutely magnetic as he speaks, but you can barely comprehend what he’s saying, trying desperately to keep the conversation going when there’s just this burning between your legs. You shift uncomfortably, trying to get some form of friction, subtly. He had to have noticed.
You hadn’t even noticed how close he was until he brushes his fingers over your knee, just under the hem of your dress, and your sentence is cut off with a choked gasp; you can tell by the amused smirk on his face he’s having fun with this, but you can’t even find it in you to spew a witty remark when all you can think about is how good he would feel.
You shift once more a little closer to him, trying to get his hands to budge up a little further. He smooths his palms over the sides of your knees and up your thighs; hooking his fingers under your flesh, he rubs soothing circles with his thumbs.
“You’re burning up,” he notes, maybe more to himself than to you, yet steel blue eyes holding you hostage with that heated gaze; you swear his pupils have dilated.
You can’t respond, afraid if you open your mouth it’ll only be a pathetic whimper that comes out, but you don’t need to.
He changes his circular movements to the opposite direction. He leans in so close it scares you how little self control you’re working on right now.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says. Maybe that fact it didn’t even sound like a question should have you hearing faint alarm bells, but all you can hear is your own heartbeat and his low voice.
You’re nodding in earnest before he’s even finished his sentence, and soon you’re both rushing out the bar. You slide into the passenger seat of an expensive looking car you can’t care to name as you wonder how on earth you’re gonna control yourself on the drive.
You give him your address and soon he’s got you up against your bedroom wall, harsh breaths being exchanged between heated kisses as his hands roam your body.
He practically throws you onto the bed and you giggle, bouncing once before he’s pulled you by your ankles, legs hanging over the edge of the bed as he rests his head between your thighs.
He runs his palms over your thighs, admiring them like they’re perfectly sculpted.
“Fuck, you’re so soft…” he drawls as he presses kisses to your inner thighs, rubbing his cheeks across your supple flesh. He bites you and you jerk, hands flying to his hair and tugging, just trying to get his mouth to where it needs to be, you’re fucking soaked.
He runs his hands up and then down your sides and grips your hips harsh enough to leave half moon dents in your skin you’re sure you’ll see the marks of tomorrow, as he pulls your heat closer to him.
“I know you taste good…”
…
The next morning you wake up sore; an ache between your legs was to be expected, but this was a dull throbbing from the top of your right leg. You reach a hand down to feel it, but running your hand down you stop short, your fingers falling to a mattress—a mattress that had to have been thinner than yours—your leg ending much sooner than you expected, much soon that it should.
You gasp and sit up with much effort, throwing a thin white sheet off of you to get a look at your right thigh.
At the sound of a shifting chair your head snaps up; Steve is seated by a door, leaning forward towards you.
“You didn’t need that, did you?”
♯
#sintember 2023#steve kemp x reader#dark steve kemp x reader#dark steve kemp x you#dark!steve kemp#dark steve kemp#steve kemp x y/n#dark!steve kemp x reader#steve kemp smut
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happy birthday
pairing: steve kemp x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. mentions of cannibalism. allusion to drugging. non con/dub con smut. kidnapping. please let me know if i’m missing something!
words: 2.2k
notes: a little continuation of wwybm. it’s my birthday. i woke up at 3am and needed to write this lol. enjoy. !not edited bc i’m up against the clock - i’ll reread in the morning to see if anything needs correcting lol!
The gentle knock coming from the other side of the door had startled you as you were laying in bed. It’d been so quiet all day, you’d gotten used to the silence. You looked over in the darkness of the room at the alarm clock on the bedside table. Squinting at the small bright light that lit up the time, you saw it was just after midnight. The clicking of the lock being unlocked and the turning of the handle had you sitting up as your gaze shot to the door. You knew who it was, but you didn’t know why he was coming so late. In the three months since he’d gotten you here, he had always been pretty consistent with his visits - he’d never come this late. Of course, you didn’t really know that for sure.. Maybe he did and you were just always asleep by now. You wouldn’t put it past him to be that creepy. Not anymore, anyway.
Steve entered the room with one hand behind his back and a small smile on his face when he saw you awake. He turned on the dimmer as he walked in, and you were thankful he hadn’t turned on the light fully - your eyes still wincing even in just the dim light.
“Good, you're already up. I would’ve felt bad if I had to wake you,” he simpered.
You eyed him warily as he approached the bed, hand still behind his back. You scooted over, further away from him when he sat down on the edge of the mattress. He sighed solemnly at your avoidance but didn’t say anything about it as he took a deep breath. He turned and looked at you with stars in his eyes before he spoke again.
“I made you something,” he said as he moved his arm from behind him. You didn’t know what you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t that. In his hand was a frosted cupcake with a single candle on it.
You looked at it, blinking before you looked back over at the alarm clock and read the date lit up at the top. Your breath caught in your throat.
The date couldn’t be right.
It was your birthday?
How was it already your birthday? It hadn’t really registered before now that you had been here this long. You figured you tried not to think about it.
If you did, if you thought about it long enough, you were sure you’d end up in tears. Luckily Steve brought your attention back to him before they could rise in your eyes.
“I doubt it’s anywhere near as good as yours, but I tried,” he laughed lightly.
He gestured for you to take the cupcake from his hand and when you did, albeit trepidatiously, he moved to pull out a small matchbook from his pocket.
He struck a match and lit the white candle - the glow was brighter than the light of the room, illuminating your face as you stared into the flame.
You didn’t know what to say, so you said the only thing you could think of.
“Thank you.”
It was nearly a whisper as you still avoided his heavy gaze, eyes seemingly caught in the trance of the fire lit before you.
“Make a wish,” he said as he moved closer to you on the bed. His hand on your thigh had you finally looking at him again before your gaze fell to his touch. You looked back at the flame and took a deep breath, shutting your eyes before you blew out the candle as you made your wish.
You opened your eyes as Steve took the cupcake from your hand and leaned past you on the bed to set it on the nightstand behind you. He was so close, essentially trapping you where you were, arms on either side of you as he leaned over you. He was fully on the bed now, and that’s when you realized he was in his pajamas. You knew what that meant. He’d be sleeping in here with you tonight.
He normally only stayed with you in this room - your room - on “date nights”, as he referred to them.
You hated them, hated that he insisted on calling them dates. There was a time you daydreamed about going on dates with him, but obviously the circumstances in those thoughts were vastly different.
You’d daydreamed about going out to dinner with Steve, maybe seeing a movie. Here you were brought food, dinner you now refused to touch if you thought he had made it himself. After the first meal he’d prepared for you, after everything he’d told you only after you’d eaten half of it… it made you sick to even think about it.
That night didn’t end well.
The next ‘date night’ was pizza from your favorite local spot, he promised he hadn’t added anything. After you ate, he’d gone upstairs and you thought that was a night, but he came back down later in his pajamas and joined you as you laid in the queen sized bed. You eyed him like he was crazy as he turned on the tv you’d never used that was mounted on the wall. He put on a movie and somewhere along the way, you’d fallen asleep against your will. You woke up to him spooning you the next morning, your head foggy.
The next week he made food again and swore it wasn’t human. The fact he even had to say that made your stomach turn and you refused it. Instead you watched as he made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for you in the kitchenette further into the room. Really, what felt like a studio apartment. You ate. He left. And not thirty minutes later he was back - looking like he was ready for bed. You got used to the routine after a few weeks. You hated that you looked forward to those nights after a while - but you were only human. You were lonely and scared a lot of the time but when you could just close your eyes and fall asleep with the warmth of someone holding you - whispering sweet nothings into your ear and telling you everything was going to be okay, things didn’t seem so hellish.
Steve’s head fell to the crook of your neck and he started leaving soft kisses along your delicate skin. “Happy birthday, beautiful,” he whispered against your throat. “I’m so lucky you were born. So glad you’re mine,” he continued in between kisses.
His hand was cold as he slid your tank top up, goosebumps rising along your flesh as he touched your waist. You let him take it off and resigned yourself to his indulgent touches.
You knew it was wrong, all convoluted, but his gentleness was comforting. If you could forget about the circumstances that found you here, pretend you weren’t being held against your own free will, that what had been budding between you two hadn’t been completely broken and instead had grown naturally into something more - something real, you could find some solace in his embrace. However farcical it was in reality, it felt like your only escape from the true insanity of the situation.
Your tank top was thrown to the ground and his lips quickly descended down to your chest, his hands fondling you softly.
“All mine,” he muttered against your skin, peppering kisses along your breasts.
His hands slid down to your shorts and he tugged at the waistband, pulling them down along with your underwear. Leaning back from you, he discarded his shirt before leaning back down to take your lips in his. He kissed you fervently, like he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you on his tongue. When you broke away, he nuzzled against you, breathing you in. He took a second to calm himself before he took his pajama pants off. He laid you down on the bed and hovered above you, his hand caressing your cheek as he stared down at you like you were the only thing that mattered to him. It was unnerving and you had to look away from the intensity. His hand slowly traveled from your cheek down your neck and over your chest before he gripped your hip.
You were looking off to the side, eyes fixed on the wall behind him as he lined his cock up to your entrance. He pushed in ever so slightly before pulling right back out and running his tip along your slit, up to your clit and back down. He was playing with you, making sure you were ready for him. When he heard a small gasp escape your lips, he took that as his cue that you were.
He slid into you with a groan as your eyes squeezed shut at the intrusion.
He nearly whimpered as your walls squeezed his length. “Fuck,” he breathed, “you feel so good, sweetheart. Always so good,” he praised.
He pushed your leg up to get a better position as he started moving against you, rocking his hips rhythmically into yours, stimulating your clit with every movement.
He was breathing heavy already and his grip on your hip only tightened when you whined.
“Steve,” you mewled quietly.
“Yeah, baby. ‘M right here. Right fuckin here,” he huffed as he fucked into you.
One hand was tangled in the sheets beneath you and the other grabbed onto his arm as he hit deeper inside of you, working you over so perfectly, rubbing against all the most sensitive spots along your walls.
He suddenly grabbed your face with his free hand and forced you to look at him while he sped up his movements. He lowered his face to yours and kissed you hard until you were out of breath and wrapping your thick thighs around him.
“I know, baby, I know,” he panted when you cried out. A white hot pressure was building in your lower belly and he didn’t let up for a second as he brought you closer to your orgasm. Your legs tightened around him as best they could as you arched your back, your body needing more of him, wanting him closer. He was grunting and breathing through clenched teeth as your walls squeezed his cock tighter, his hips pounding against you, curses and praises falling from his lips while you closed your eyes at the growing intensity.
His hips began to stutter, his rhythm faltering as he got closer to his own orgasm. After another few thrusts, you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer. You nearly squeaked as you came, mouth falling open and eyes closed tight as your nerves seemed to light up - the pleasure overwhelming you. Steve followed suit and came hard right after you, filling you up. You were too drunk on the high to realize or care that he’d come inside of you. He collapsed on top of you and you both laid there trying to catch your breath. You felt him pull out after a minute and when he did, you could feel his cum leaking out of you. You winced at the feeling and immediately crawled out from under him and tried to get to the bathroom to clean yourself up. Try to wash away the shame you felt. He stopped you before you could, pulling you back on the bed.
“Ah ah, don’t move,” he instructed. “I’ll clean you up.” He went to the bathroom himself and came back with a damp washcloth, he cleaned the mess between your legs gently before peppering kisses on your inner thighs. He made his way closer and closer to your pussy before you tried to shut your thighs.
“What are you doing,” you questioned, sounding almost out of breath.
He looked up at you innocently. “It’s your birthday. I wanna make sure it’s the most enjoyable one you’ve ever had,” he smirked. “I’ve got the whole day planned,” he continued as he rubbed your thighs, “I just want to make you as happy as you make me, sweetheart. I cleared my schedule, I’m all yours today. You’re not gonna have to worry about a thing, I promise. Just you and me. I’m gonna show you how good things could be all the time if you just let me. If you stop pushing me away. Accept this for what it is,” he said softly. He moved up from where he was between your legs and held your face in his hands once more.
“You know I made a wish on the birthday cupcake you gave me. I wished for you. And look at us now,” he smiled. “You’re all mine, pretty girl. Let me really treat you like it.”
He leaned down for another kiss, not so rushed this time. Slow and soft, taking his time with you. “I’m gonna make sure you have a very happy birthday. Don’t fight me on this. Not today, okay?” He spoke quietly against your lips.
You were breathing heavily and he was making sure you held his eye as he slowly pulled away from you, ever so slightly. You nodded almost imperceptibly, but it seemed to be good enough for him. You looked away from him once more before responding.
“Okay,” you breathed. You didn’t have any arguments left in you. Maybe it’d be better this way. Easier. You’d made a wish on your birthday candle. You could only hope it’d come true soon enough. You didn’t want to feel scared anymore. You didn’t want to be so alone. Especially not today. You just wanted a happy birthday.
part three
#steve kemp#soft!dark steve kemp#steve kemp x reader#steve kemp x curvy!reader#sebastian stan characters#steve kemp fic#dark!steve kemp#steve kemp x y/n#steve kemp x you
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I’m starting to write more…so look out for that. I started writing a Steve Kemp fic…Im pretty excited about this one🫠. It’s a dark one 😈.
#steve kemp#steve kemp x reader#steve kemp x y/n#sebastian stan fanfiction#sebastian stan smut#steve kemp smut#dark!steve kemp#dark!soft!steve kemp#dead dove do not eat#fresh spoilers#thegirlnextdoorssisterupdate
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OBSESSION - Steve Kemp, Part One
Oh lord help me, what did I get myself into. Here’s a multi-part Steve Kemp fic that’s been on my mind for a while.
Five months into her best friend’s disappearance, (Y/N) meets someone new, and for the first time in months she feels as if she can finally breathe again. She never thought she’d become the newest obsession of a charming psychopathic cannibal.
- WARNING(S): NON-CON/DUB-CON, grief, drug abuse, kidnapping, Steve Kemp is a red flag himself, cannibalism, manipulation, blood
I hurried down the busy sidewalk, my hand gripping a thin piece of fabric as I shoved through people. “Sorry!” I called behind me as I accidentally collided with someone’s shoulder, sending the man an apologetic smile.
The crispy morning air nipped at my nose, my cheeks a gentle red. My lips were chapped, the chilly autumn air kissing them harshly. Finally, I reached her destination, and I swung open the door, the bell chiming from above me.
The smell of coffee filled the air, and I inhaled, breathing heavily as I moved behind the counter, muttering an apology to my store manager.
The older woman studied me. “Thanks for deciding to grace us with your presence,” she dryly quipped, her eyes flicking back down towards the milk she was currently steaming.
“I’m sorry, Mallory,” I breathed, tying my long hair into a messy ponytail. “I slept past my alarm.” Quickly, I wrapped my black apron around my waist, tying it into a neat bow behind my back.
Mallory hummed, unamused, before calling out the name of the customer, placing the finished beverage onto the handoff counter. She turned to face me, a thin eyebrow raised. “This is the fourth time this month, (Y/N). You can’t keep doing this. You were scheduled almost an hour ago.”
I winced slightly, my lip tucked between my teeth. “I’m supposed to get my medicine tomorrow. I swear it won't happen again.”
Mallory nodded as I got to work with another order, placing a croissant into the oven. From behind me, I could feel her gaze burning a hole into the back of my head. I ignored her, my gaze focused on the pastry in the oven.
“Have the nightmares gotten any better?” She asked carefully, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips.
I remained silent, bagging up the croissant and calling out the name. “It doesn’t matter, Mallory,” I quickly brushed off, sending her a quick warning glance.
Mallory was silent, a sigh escaping her. “Okay.” She wiped off the counter with a washcloth, cleaning the spilt coffee from the rush earlier. “Well, I’ll be in the back getting some stuff done. Call me if you need me.”
I nodded quickly, sending her a small smile. She disappeared through the door, and I let out a shaky sigh.
Sleeping at night wasn’t the easiest. Since the day she had disappeared, the nightmares hadn’t ceased. The day she disappeared, the color seemed to drain from my world. It had been five months — five long months. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat. Hell, I couldn’t even close her eyes without seeing her youthful face, her eyes filled with the rarest kind of joy. Happiness like that didn’t exist anymore, not in anyone. But Lilith wasn’t just anyone. She was my sister, my best friend, my savior. She was everything to me.
I didn’t want to believe she was gone and never coming back. I didn’t want to accept a life without her light. A life without her was a life of loneliness, a life of misery and suffering that she wanted no part of.
After the first month of Lilith being missing, it seemed as if the city forgot about her. She was just another woman in a city of millions. Hundreds of people go missing every year, and Lilith was no exception. It seemed as if those who knew me were walking on eggshells, afraid to bring it up.
It was as if she no longer existed.
Lilith Marie had been forgotten. No family, no friends, she was an outsider.
She was an outsider — she was like me.
——————————-
Four hours into my shift, the coffee shop had begun to settle down as customers began to hurry to their jobs. It had been a minute since someone had ordered. To not seem like I was standing around, I carefully wiped at the counter, the washcloth damp against my skin.
My black shirt had since been stained with powder from the pastries, caramel drizzle and coffee stains painting my pants in patterns.
Knowing the slow pace of the shop was only temporary, I set the rag down with a sigh, beginning to stock the fridges with milks and other ingredients I would need to make it through another rush.
Just as I was placing a new almond milk jug into the fridge, the bell rang, signaling that a customer had walked in.
I turned, bumping the fridge door shut with my hip before making my way to the counter, my eyes on the small tablet to take orders. “Hi,” I greeted monotonously, forcing a smile on my tired face. “What can I get started for you?”
Glancing up, blue eyes met my own. A man stood tall on the other side of the counter, a charming smile tugging at his pink lips. “Good morning,” he smiled, a hand coming to rub at his chin.
He was a good looking man—a shockingly handsome man, even. His eyes seemed to glance right through me, dark hair adorning his face. He was older, maybe a good six or seven years older than myself, but it didn’t take away from his attractiveness. In fact, being older seemed to suit him.
I found myself staring for too long, and I blushed slightly, my eyes falling back down to the iPad in my hand.
“Wait a minute,” he began, leaning forward slightly as he gazed at me carefully. “Do I know you?”
My brows furrowed, and I looked back up at him. Did I know him? He didn’t seem familiar, though it wasn’t like I spoke to anyone anyways.
Slowly, I shook my head, my lips parting. “Um, I don’t think so?” I stated, confusion laced in my voice. “I don’t recognize you.”
His eyes examined me a bit further now, his dark brows knitted closely together as he thought. Finally, he seemed to come to a conclusion, and his eyes lit up slightly. “You ran into me this morning.”
I blushed further, the memory of accidentally shoulder-checking someone replaying in my head. Dear god, I thought to myself, embarrassment filling me.
“I am so sorry, I was late to work and was kind of in a hurry,” I quickly defended myself, trying to save myself from further embarrassment.
He chuckled at my words, his hand held out in a surrendering manner. “Don’t worry,” he replied, a smile on his handsome face. “Been there done that many times before.”
A sigh of relief escaped me, and I let out an awkward laugh, a hand coming to brush a flour-coated strand of hair away from my face.
“Besides, I can’t complain about a pretty barista literally KO-ing me on the streets. I’m livin’ the dream,” he joked, and I could feel my cheeks growing hot.
Male attention was slightly foreign to me. I had been an awkward kid all my childhood, and I didn’t start getting male attention until I had graduated college. It felt…strange to be flirted with.
“I really am sorry about that,” I said quickly, a nervous laugh falling from my lips. I didn’t know what to say other than apologize.
I felt warm under his gaze, and I wiped my palms on my apron once more.
He waved my words off. “Don’t worry about it. As I said, livin’ the dream.” He smiled. “I’ll take a large black coffee.”
Quickly, I punched in his order. “Did you want any cream or sugar in there?”
“No thanks. The bitter taste wakes me up,” he explained, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.
I hummed at his reply, telling him the price and taking his card. Quietly, I asked for his name, to which he told me “Steve.”
Steve.
“It’ll be out in just a second,” I told him simply, and he held a thumbs up, sending me a smile as he took a seat at one of the tables.
Steve seemed nice.
I was quick to make his coffee, careful to not splash the hot liquid onto my skin as I poured it into a cup. Setting it onto the handoff counter, I called his name. Quickly, he came to the counter, striding towards his coffee and picking it up.
“Thank you…” he trailed off, his brows knitted together.
“(Y/N),” I told him, smiling softly at the man.
He said my name quietly, as if seeing how the name felt on his tongue. “(Y/N)…” he smiled, nodding his head. “Thank you, (Y/N).”
And just like that, he was gone.
I stared at his retreating figure, feeling somewhat confused and embarrassed. He strode from my eyesight outside, disappearing down the block.
“Hmm..” I hummed, brows furrowed.
“Who was that?’ Mallory’s voice sounded from behind me, and I jumped slightly at the sudden noise. Turning towards her, I rolled my eyes.
“No one. Can I take my lunch break now?”
————————————
It was late when I returned home to my apartment. The night had settled in, blackening the streets and casting an eerie glow into my small apartment.
Closing the door behind me, I locked it, a tired sigh escaping me.
My apartment was small, but it was enough. I had made it into a cozy home, and it was certainly mine.
Setting my keys onto the table, I took out my ponytail, letting my long hair fall to my waist.
Though I was exhausted, I knew I wouldn’t get much sleep tonight.
It was the same thing every night: turn on the lights, feed the cat, lay in bed, and stare up at the ceiling.
Sighing, I went into my bathroom, silent as I began to run a bath. As I waited for the water to fill the bath, I undressed myself, rinsing my face with the cold water of the sink.
Looking into the mirror, I frowned slightly, my pink lips pouted. Slowly, I forced herself to smile, watching as my lips turned upwards.
I cringed.
My smile no longer reached my eyes. It was as if my eyes had lost all life, like a fog had clouded them. My smile dropped, and I bit my cheek in disappointment.
I missed being happy. I longed to feel something again, and yet no matter how hard I tried, nothing worked. It was like an empty void had taken hold of me and everyday, it felt as if I were falling further and further into the ocean of depression.
Running a hand through my hair, I moved it so it was out of my face before stepping away from the counter.
Turning the hot water off, I silently climbed in, skin burning from the heat. The burning soon melted away, being replaced with instant warmth that flooded through my bones. It was like a warm blanket had engulfed me, comforting me.
Ever since the disappearance, I had found comfort in the nightly baths.
Opening my eyes to stare at the ceiling, I let my head rest on the rim of the tub, a breath escaping my lips.
When my bath was over, I dressed myself, my cat meowing loudly as she begged me to feed her. I leaned over, smiling softly and giving her a pet. “Are you hungry, my love?”
She stared up at me and meowed, and I giggled, giving her some kitty food before returning back to my room. It was almost midnight now, and I yawned, throwing myself tiredly onto the bed in the middle of my room.
A few minutes later, as my cat curled up on my pillow beside my head, my blinking began to slow, and finally, I drifted into a light sleep.
Unfortunately, the nightmares were quick to follow.
————————-
A week came and went, and then another, and another, and soon, autumn turned into winter.
The medication achieved its goal of helping me sleep, and it kept the nightmares at bay. Since the day I had picked them up, I hadn’t dreamt. Soon, it became easier to close my eyes without seeing her face.
Lilith no longer haunted my body, mind and soul. Though she had left a scar, a clear indication that she had been there, it was getting easier to breathe.
Lilith would always be with me, for my heart was filled with her and her alone. But for the first time in months, my heart had become my own once more.
I was working an evening shift at the coffee shop today, sweeping up the floors and ridding it of the coffee grounds that seemed to plague it. It had been a partially slow day, and Mallory had gone home early to be with her children for the holidays. Christmas was a week from today, and though the streets of New York were bustling with last minute shoppers, the coffee shop I worked at had been the exception.
Dumping the dustpan into the trash, I heaved an annoyed sigh. The trash was filled to the brim.
Taking advantage of the completely empty coffee shop, I decided to take it out, tying the plastic into a knot and lifting it from the bin. Making my way outside, the chilly air licked at my skin, goosebumps rising as I strode to the dumpster a couple yards away. It was dark outside, and it was almost time to close up the coffee shop.
The trash was heavy, and I was just barely able to hold it up to my hips. My breathing blew up into puffs of smoke, the gravel beneath my feet crunching as I hurried to the dumpster.
“Hey, (Y/N)!” A voice called from behind me, and I jumped, a scream escaping my chapped lips.
“Fuck,” I breathed, my eyes wide as they met a pair of icy blue ones.
The man before me was the very same one who stood in the coffee shop weeks ago, the same man who I had bumped into on the streets that morning — and yet, for the life of me, I couldn’t remember his name.
“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckled, catching up to me. Seeing I was struggling to carry the trash bag, he quickly reached out to help me. “Here, I got it.”
Before I could protest, he had grabbed the bag from me, his strong arms easily lifting it up. I blinked, muttering a quiet thank you, feeling slightly guilty for not remembering his name.
“What…what are you doing here?” I asked him, walking with him towards the dumpster.
He turned to cast me a charming smile, his white teeth flashing. “I wanted a coffee, but I noticed the store was empty. Had to make sure you weren’t killed by some psychopath,” he grinned.
I nodded quietly, my brows furrowing.
How had he known I was working…?
“Yeah, well, I’m all good,” I awkwardly replied, breathing into my hands to warm them up as the man threw the heavy bag into the trash.
“Come on, let's get inside. My god, you’re shaking.” Quickly, he shrugged off his jacket, placing it over my shaking frame, and I cringed uncomfortably.
“Oh, um, thank you,” I muttered, looking to the floor beneath our feet as we hurried back into the store.
He smiled in return, moving in front of me to open the door, waiting for me to go inside first. The bell chimed from above us, the cafe still empty. The people on the streets had retreated, given that it was now fairly late at night. Glancing at the clock, I breathed a sigh of relief.
10:30pm — closing time.
Suddenly remembering the warm fabric draped over my shoulders, I was quick to shrug it off, smiling awkwardly as I handed it to him, my cheeks a light shade of pink. “Want your coffee now?” I asked him, turning behind us and flipping the opened sign around, signaling to those that we were now closed.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, sure. It’s going to be a long night so I could use the caffeine.”
I hummed in response, moving around him and making my way behind the counter, grabbing a coffee cup. “Trying to pull an all-nighter?” I asked, my brows raising as I poured him his cup of coffee. The air felt stuffy, my head foggy.
The medication was starting to wear off, and my mind, soul, and body craved the warmth the meds would bring.
I blinked harshly, trying to stay grounded.
From behind me, I heard him breathe a tired sigh. “Pretty much, yeah. I have some files I need to go over before tomorrow morning.”
Passing him his coffee, I gave him a questioning look.
He noticed this, and we quickly explained. “I’m a surgeon and I have a client tomorrow who pretty much bought a new face.”
“Hmm… sounds about right.” This city was full of many who had opted for plastic surgery, so it didn’t exactly come as a shock. When he began to tug out his wallet, I shook my head. “You’re covered tonight.”
He smiled in appreciation, bringing the coffee to his lips, a hm escaping him. Licking his lips, he nodded. “I swear, you have the best coffee in town, (Y/N).”
My face heated, and I wiped my palms on my stained jeans. “Well, technically, Mallory has the best coffee in town,” I corrected him, and he rolled his eyes. “Y’know, since she’s the store manager and she’s the one who supplies.”
“Yeah, but I like when you make me my coffee.”
I scoffed, bending down into a cabinet and grabbing a trash bag, moving to replace the one I had just taken out.
Though I wasn’t facing him, I could feel his gaze burning a hole into my head, his eyes watching me carefully. I ignored the feeling, bringing a hand up to wipe my forehead as I resumed sweeping the floor.
“Well,” he finally began, taking a step backwards towards the door. “I should probably….” He pointed back towards the door, and I fought a smile at his awkwardness.
“Yeah,” I said, an amused smile tugging at my lips.
“Yeah,” he breathed, his voice low. It sounded somewhat disappointed, and he ran a hand through his messy hair. “Well, good night, (Y/N).”
“Goodnight…..?” My cheeks flushed as he quirked an eyebrow.
“Wow, you totally don’t remember my name.” He placed a hand over his heart, his face contorting into a feigned look of hurt.
I grimaced. “Not, no, I do remember it…Alex?”
He cringed, his lips pursed as he shook his head.
“Uh, Ben?”
“Wrong, again.”
“Okay, okay wait.”
He paused, his hand resting on the door handle behind him.
“Stephen.”
He groaned, his hand rubbing his face dramatically.
I paused for a moment, my eyes scanning him.
“Steve,” I finally decided, and he started clapping.
“The one, the only,” he grinned, taking another sip of his coffee.
Finally, I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek.
He really did have such a plain name.
He stared at me for a minute in silence, and I continued my sweeping, picking up the trash in the lobby.
“Can I drive you home tonight?” He asked, his voice soft. He seemed slightly embarrassed, and he reached to scratch the back of his head, a sheepish grin adorning his face.
Looking up, I glanced at him, and he could immediately tell I was slightly put off.
“I mean, I noticed there were no cars outside, and I remembered when you were running through the streets, so I just realized you didn’t have a car,” he rambled. “It’s freezing outside and I just want to be sure you make it home safe, Y’know?”
“Please don’t think I’m a creep,” he finished, his voice pleading.
I was silent for a moment, trying to get a grasp on a decision.
I could say no, tell him I wasn’t at all interested and continue living the life I had been living for the last couple of months. I could continue to grasp at the memory of my best friend. My best friend, who no matter how much I yearned to come back, would most likely never return home to me.
Or, I could say yes. Perhaps this one drive home blossoms into another ride home, into Steve coming in to visit me. Maybe, it even turns into dating. He was a good looking man who seemed genuinely interested in me. Maybe, I could heal from my past and finally find happiness again.
I could truly start living my life again.
Goosebumps rose on my skin as I decided.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
#Steve kemp#sebastian stan#dark!sebastian stan#Sebastian Stan x reader#dark!steve kemp#steve kemp x reader#fresh movie#dark! Sebastian Stan x reader#bucky barnes#marvel
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