#Steve kemp x black!reader

[wh0reforoldmen]

Fettered Attachments

Pairing: Softdark! Steve kemp X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cannibalism, illusions of imprisonment/forced captivity, manipulation, lil angst, fluff? Steve Kemp (We all know he’s a warning)

Word count:1.64k

Summary: Being Steve’s captive is one thing- but falling for him is another.

You sat against the wall, staring at the painting on the wall in a deep trance. It was a beautiful painting; the colours all blended together delicately, the pinks and blues in a perfect gradient. You wonder where Steve got this from. You shuffled on your mattress while the chains keeping you bound to the floor clinked together and snapped out of your head due to the sudden noise. You looked out the door and sighed, seeing no sign of Steve. 

You didn’t believe yourself when you said that you missed him. You're going to die from the loneliness and boredom you're experiencing. Penny doesn't talk to you, and the other girls have gone to their own worlds, somewhere less tortuous than this hell hole. You must miss your social interactions with him because he is the only person you talk to in this hell and the only person who... cares about you. 

Penny stated that she doesn't care about you. The others don’t care. Steve said multiple times that no one cares about you as much as he does... Maybe that’s true; maybe he's the only person in the world who cares about you. 

You stare at the door like a lost puppy waiting for its owner to come back home; you want to be held by him, his touch is always so soft; he treats you like a piece of china, if he moves you too roughly, you’ll break. No one has ever treated you like that before, and you yearn for it; you need it. 

You couldn't express how happy you were to see his handsome face; you adored his eyes, they were your favourite feature of him. They were a beautiful steel blue with such softness towards you, the way they would light up every time he saw you; his smile was what stole your heart; it was so sweet and cute; he didn't have chubby cheeks, but you just wanted to squish his face.

“Hey, bunny. I'm going to check on the others, and I'll get back to you, okay?" He said with a smile. He walked out of your sight, and you waited patiently. You missed the sinister look in his smile as he noticed how much joy was in your eyes when you saw him.  

It didn’t take long for him to come back and open the door and walk in, you could’ve tackled him into a hug if it wasn't for these chains. He walked over, and you shuffled out of the way, letting him lead on the wall while you straddled his lap and rested your head on his shoulder. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, taking in his cologne. Spicy wood and a bit of cinnamon—it suits him, and you like it. 

His arms wrapped around your waist while a hand was placed on the small of your back. “Missed you, bunny,” he said, breaking the silence. He truly did, and it was unusual for him; none of his victims had ever made him feel this way before; he couldn't be away from you for long or he'd go insane! Your sweet smile and the way your eyes light up when you see him make his heart flutter. So he’s made an oath to himself: he will never let you go, he will never hurt you, and he won’t do anything to make you scared of him. He’ll treat you like no one has ever treated you before.

“Missed you too, Stevie... Where’d you go? You were gone for days!” you ask, sitting up and looking at him. You were worried sick about him, you had no idea where he had gone (which you never do, but this time was different), you were bored out of your mind, and you were hungry. 

“I had to do something with old friends of mine, nothing for your cute little head to worry about.” He dismissed. 

"Are you hungry?" he asked as he turned to face you. “I can cook something for you,”

With no hesitation and no thought of how wrong this is, you nodded with a smile and asked, “Can I come with you too?” You pause for a moment before asking. You want to see him cook; it must be fun since you always hear 80s pop songs blasting from the kitchen. 

He chuckled at how eager you were to come with him, but this is going a bit too quickly, he doesn't want to scare you away. "Sorry, bunny, but you have to stay down here. But I promise, I will let you watch next time, and maybe we can cook together," he suggested. 

You have to admit that you were a little disappointed, but next time could be ages away. You didn’t want to argue, so you nodded, “Alright.” You had a slight disappointment in your voice before you got off his lap and sat back on the mattress. Steve chuckled and planted a kiss on your forehead before he got up and walked back upstairs. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, but it’s been a long time since Steve went upstairs, and you were getting more and more impatient as the time went by, your stomach growling with need more regularly. You grumbled to yourself, telling Steve to hurry up. 

Soon enough, he came back with a plastic tray with a meal, a side, and a glass of water. "Sorry, bunny, it took so long,” Steve said apologetically as he walked into the room and placed the tray in front of you “Was doing some other things while cooking,”

You smiled as you looked down at the food; it smelled amazing, and you know one thing about his food: it was all homemade, nothing is from a tin or anything, it was all from scratch. You had to guess two pork ribs, which looked amazing with the bbq sauce drizzled all over them, and the side of the plate, which had some potatoes and some vegetables. You picked up the knife and fork and gladly dug in, Steve watching you with intense eyes as you cut up the ribs and placed the meat into your mouth, watching your mouth move while you chewed. 

Your eyes went wide with how much flavour there was; you’ve had his food plenty of times, but you always seem to forget that he is an excellent chef with how seasoned it is. Not just salt and pepper, there's more you've probably never heard of.

Steve saw the look in your eye and smiled to himself. “Like it? It's a new recipe, wanted to try it,” he asked, leaning back against the wall. 

You looked up at him and nodded with a smile before digging back in. You didn’t let any go to waste; you just ate and ate till there was nothing left on the plate but the bones of the ribs. 

 Steve watched your every move, he was shocked, to say the least, that you didn’t realise that those weren't pork bones, but he wasn't going to spoil your meal. 

“Thank you, Steve,” you say, looking up at him with a smile. 

He shook his head, moved the tray to one side, and shuffled over to you, placing you in his lap again, your back against his chest, sitting between his legs. You both sat there in silence for a while before you decided to break it. “Steve, remember when you said that you were the only person who actually cared for me?” You inquire, looking up at him with interest. 

“Yeah, what about it, bunny?” He replied, looking down at you, perplexed. What were you getting at?

“Did you really mean it? My friends are looking for me, aren't they?” You inquire, sitting up slightly and recalling your friends in your memory, how much fun you guys had and how they cared about you. They're looking, aren't they?

“Oh, Bunny. Your friends were... not the nicest of people; remember how they controlled you? They said not to follow me here because I was odd, remember? And they aren't looking for you because, as I said and as you repeated, I am the only one who actually cares for you.” He said this while cupping your face and wiping the tears from your cheeks. “They don’t know you like I know you, they never knew the real you, did they? But I do, I know you, Bunny”

“If you want to push me away if you want me to go, I’m not going anywhere, I want you, and I love you, bunny." He confessed without exactly realising it, he was just saying what he wanted to say for so long “I know you’ve tried to run away, you make make mistakes, but that’s okay, we can work on that, you can make mistakes around me, we can work on that,” 

You looked at him with wide eyes, did he just say that he loves you? He loves you. You can be yourself around him, and he won't judge you. Your friends never said it, but you could tell they wanted you to be quiet... Maybe he’s right, maybe he is the only person who cares for you. No, he does care for you, and he said it. He loves you, and you think you love him too. 

Steve stoked your cheeks as you processed everything he had just said, and you broke down, feeling as if the walls around you had crumbled and you could just... do whatever you wanted. 

His attention was drawn to your lips, soft lips, before returning to your eyes. You leaned in and softly pressed your lips against his as if you had just read his mind. 

Something in both of you felt completed as if a chapter in a book had just ended and a new one was about to begin. Maybe life here isn’t going to be so bad for you after all.

[shadeysprings]

So Good. So Bad.

—Stalker!Ex-Boyfriend!Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Summary — The Halloween party you and your friends attend turns upside down all because of your jealous ex.

Warnings — noncon/dubcon, toxic relationship, mass murd3r, k!lling spree, somewhat public sex, cuckolding of some sort, almost drugging, Lloyd being toxic and psychotic. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.

Word Count — 7.2K

A/N — I know I said Sunday but my muse said no. Story #2 for my FREAKtober Fest and my second time exploring Lloyd as a character. The writing process was tedious yet exciting. The title and inspiration of this fic was taken from the song ILYSB.

Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

Aside from having the same shift as your best friends, restocking is the only thing you like about your work. Although it’s physical, it’s mostly mindless tasks done repeatedly, and the black shirt you wear acts like a shield from annoying customers who pester the ones in blue.

Your shift starts like clockwork; time in, grab the products from the warehouse, and begin stocking the shelves until you have to clock out. Though today was a bit more taxing than you expected with the cable aisle once more in disarray and you being tasked to reorganize and set everything in its proper place. You don’t understand the need to put in so much effort into something that will just end up messy at the end of the day.

But you do it anyway. 

Upon arriving at the aisle, you begin sorting out the boxes and dismantling the hooks from the shelves. You’re happy enough to be doing this alone—the quicker you work, the faster you’ll be able to relax and waste the time away. That is, until Kate stands beside you, seemingly tensed as she starts helping you. 

“He’s here again. TV aisle.” You don’t need for her to say anything more to know who she’s referring to and it just makes you sigh as you grab a box of an HDMI cable and hang it on the hook. “Jensen’s trying to help him but he’s being pushy about talking to you. How does he always know when you’re here? Didn’t you already change shifts?” She asks.

How you wish you knew the answer to that. “I did.” You say in exasperation. “Did he say I was on break?”

“You know we can’t lie. Besides, we have no idea if he already saw you before he came in. He could have seen you while you were on your smoke break.” She expounds and you feel a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over you. “Just—talk to him. Tell him to leave. If he tries anything, we’ll call the cops.”

“Yeah. Like they’ll do anything about it. Vince wouldn’t even allow that—bad publicity and all.” The sigh that once more leaves your lips is despondent. You don’t know what else you can do to make him leave you alone. “Fine. I’ll deal with him.” The box in your hand ends up being crumpled from annoyance.

“We’ll be keeping watch.” She says, a measly attempt to comfort you. But you take it anyway with a smile and push away from your cart to hopefully turn away the pesky client.

It’s been almost two years since you broke up with Lloyd. The sweet air that he once had turned bitter when you saw just how jealous of a person he was. You thought it was cute at first, comforting him after a fit and telling him that he was the only man in your life—until it wasn’t and he threatened your friend, John, even challenging him to a fight at the back of the club when he placed his arm on your shoulder as he introduced you to his girlfriend. 

Since then, he changed and the relationship you thought was almost perfect, snowballed into endless fights and the revelation of the toxicity he kept hidden. You thought you could make him realize that there was truly nothing to worry about, that his jealousy was misplaced. But you were very wrong, especially after he demanded you quit your job and move in with him instead. You’d make a really good housewife, was what he said and you knew you had to draw the line.  

It wasn’t the life you wanted. And it pained you to leave because you did love him but with the way he acted, you questioned if he truly felt the same for you for even the simplest of things, he failed to trust you. And ever since, he hasn’t stopped following you. Everywhere you went, at work or home, he was there, simply watching, observing and you’ve done all you can to push him away. But no matter how hard you try, he can’t take the word no.

The first thing you notice when you see him is the twitch of his mustache when he smirks. He looks pristine as ever with his yellow polo shirt and white slacks that match his black loafers—a complete mismatch to your black shirt, jeans and sneakers uniform. And it has you thinking, what the hell did he see in you?

“The new models just came in yesterday,” You hear Jensen tell him but it’s obvious that Lloyd is not listening, certain that he’s staring at you even with his blue eyes covered by sunglasses. “I can show them—”

“Ah, just the girl I was looking for.” He says, cutting off Jensen and stepping past him to head over to you. 

“Sir, she’s one of our warehouse staff. I’d be happy to assist you in—”

“Beat it, nerd!” Lloyd snaps as he stops to face Jensen, rolling your eyes at his misplaced annoyance. “She’s the one I want to talk to.”

“It’s okay, Jen. I got this.” You tell your co-worker, gesturing for him to leave.

“You sure? I can stay if you need any he—”

“Are you fucking deaf?! She said she’s got it, loser!” Lloyd turns from where he stands and you’re suddenly alarmed to see him charge over at Jensen. “Beat it or I’ll make you.” He threatens and you immediately wedge yourself between both men when you see Jensen isn’t backing down.

You place your hands against Lloyd’s chest, stopping him from getting any closer. “Lloyd, stop it! Not here—Christ!” Your voice raises an octave when you scold him, facing Jensen right after and unintentionally glaring at him. “Just go, Jake! I said I got this!” It surprises you that you sound quite like Lloyd but it doesn’t deter you from pushing Lloyd back further.

You hear Jensen speak but don’t understand him as you grab Lloyd by the hand and pull him over to the other aisle, heat rising up your neck when you notice several of the shoppers looking in your direction. There’s never any peace with Lloyd—everywhere he goes, chaos follows.

Once you’ve pulled him away from prying eyes, you startle when he stops walking and tugs on your hand, his arm immediately wrapping around your waist as he holds you close. He gives you a sickeningly sweet grin, effectively trapping your hand against his chest.

“What the fuck do you want, Lloyd? Why are you here?” You bite.

“I’m looking for a TV.” He says smoothly, “Besides, I missed my little Kitten and I know that kitty of yours misses me too.”

You want to roll your eyes at his crass comment. “You know I work in the damn warehouse. I know nothing about them.” You reason, grunting as you try to get away from his hold. “We have a sales specialist who can help you with that.”

“Oh, but I want you to show me the options.” The hair on his lip twitches when he smirks, “Or I can complain to your manager that his employees aren’t helpful to their customers.”

“Seriously? You’re going to act like a fucking Karen?”

“Would you like to see me try?” He challenges.

That’s the last thing you needed from him and you don’t question that he would stay true to his word and make sure his complaint reached top management. Letting out a sigh, you nod at his request and show your best customer service smile before saying, “How can I help you?”

Your shift finally ends and you can’t wait to go home to wash off the day. After Lloyd pestered you with all the TV selections you showed him, he left with nothing and you tried your best not to show your annoyance at him though he knows he’s riled you up—he always does. 

Bidding your goodbyes to Kate and the rest as you leave the store with Jensen in tow. He offered a ride to the station—something he always does and one you couldn’t refuse after the long day. You just want to go home and curl up in your room and hope that Lloyd doesn’t show himself again after that awful stint. 

“Tough day, huh?” Jensen asks as he brings the engine to life and drives off from the parking lot. 

“Yeah. I’m just glad it’s over.” You respond, leaning back against your seat while you hug your backpack against your chest.

“Yeah.” He echoes, hearing his fingers tap against the wheel. “The line at the tech depot was pretty long too. Seems like every computer within town is falling apart.” He jokes, and you think it’s an attempt to lighten the mood. You still feel tense with the altercation he had with Lloyd—you just wish for once one of them would listen to you. 

“Hey, sorry about earlier.” He says and you visibly cringe when he mentions it. “I know you could handle him but knowing that he’s bothering you, I couldn’t just step away from—”

“Look. Jensen.” You sigh as you turn to face him. “I appreciate your concern, really, I do. But no offense, it’s none of your business. I don’t need a knight in shining armor to come and rescue me each time that idiot shows up. The others stay away because of how reckless he can be and I just don’t want you to get caught in the line of fire. Just let me handle him.”

You know full well why Jensen couldn’t get past that. After admitting to you his feelings since he found out you were single, he’s been subtly dropping hints about asking you out. You’d probably have taken up the offer if you met him before Lloyd but the trauma your ex has imprinted on you just leaves you thinking that any man who would dare go near would be the same. 

Silence fills the small space, along with a flicker of tension. You think Jensen would disapprove of your words, that he would insist on giving his unwarranted help. But all you hear is a sigh and you see the nod of his head. 

“Okay.” He utters, the rubber covering the steering wheel squeaking when his hold on it tightens. “I won’t meddle any—”

“JENSEN!” You shout and grab onto the handle of your seat when a car suddenly turns and blocks your path, Jensen stepping hard onto the brakes. 

“What the fuck?!” He shouts as he rolls down his window but you, on the other hand, sit still when you see Conrad, one of Lloyd’s buddies, step out of the car and walk over to Jensen’s side. “What the hell is wrong with you, bro?!” Jensen growls as he unlocks his door, ready to step out.

But you’re too late to warn him—Conrad pulling open the door and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, trapping him against the side of his car. Lloyd then suddenly appears, with Chris in tow. He goes first to Jensen, the latter flinching when he raises his fist at him, threatening to lay a punch before leaning down and framing his arms over the edge of the window.

Your eyes dart to Jensen when he grunts against Conrad’s grip, glaring at Lloyd when he stares you down. “What the fuck are you doing here, Lloyd?!”

His eyes meet yours, darkness swirling around the blue and you can already tell that he’s angry. “What are you doing here, Kitten?” He says, a cocky grin on his face. “You couldn’t wait for me to pick you up so you got into this loser’s car?” He tuts, chin nodding over to your side and your door suddenly opens, Chris, pulling you out aggressively. 

You look around, hoping to call for help but you curse Jensen when you notice he went through the back roads. No one ever passes here, especially at this hour, and now the both of you are at the mercy of your ex who you see looming over your co-worker. 

You gasp when Lloyd sends him a punch, trying to pull away from Chris’ grasp to help Jensen, but it’s no use. You’re rendered helpless as you watch him send another blow, making the other bowl over to which Conrad pushes him further to the ground.

“Stay away from my girl, asshole!” Lloyd threatens before spitting at the other man, your eyes grow wide when Lloyd takes you from Chris and drags you to his car. 

You hear the sound of tires being slashed and several glass breaking along with Jensen’s pained grunts. You knew Lloyd could be reckless but you’ve never seen him this way before. He opens the passenger door and pushes you in, slamming the door harshly before getting inside himself. He doesn’t wait for his companions before driving off, your hand grabbing the side of the door with the speed he’s going. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You shout. “Let me out of here!”

“You keep testing me, Kitten. Running off with other men like that.” He growls and you scream when he takes a sharp left, cars honking left and right at how careless he’s driving. 

“Are you that daft?! We’re over, Lloyd! We’ve been for years!” You shout amidst the panic that rolls through your veins, eventually getting the courage to hit him on the shoulder when he gets on the main road. 

But you soon realize your mistake when he stops at an alley and his hand immediately wraps around your neck, pulling you towards him. You grab on his wrist when he squeezes tight, your eyes wide as you fear that he would choke you, kill you on the spot. 

“Lloyd—” you gasp, slapping on his hand as tears fall from your eyes. “Y—you’re hurting me.”

“I will only say this once, Kitten, so you better listen.” His hot breath spreads across your cheek when he pulls you closer, the tick on his jaw setting you on edge. “You’re mine and no one, not even you, can change that fact. Got it?”

All you can do is nod, to agree with every word he says if it means you get to keep your life. 

“Good.” He huffs, the anger in him somewhat seeping away, loosening his hold around your neck. “Good girl.” The praise that used to send shivers of desire within you now has your stomach twisting in disgust. “And if I see that weirdo or any other man going near you again, you know what will happen.”

You nod once more and gasp when he completely releases you, leaning against your seat as you try to regulate your breathing.

He drives once more and you’re thankful he’s slower this time, doing your best to stay calm as you look out the window. “Where are you taking me?” You ask, although you already have an inkling of his answer when you recognize the area you’re in and the direction he’s driving to. You haven’t driven in and out of these roads for almost two years. After you and Lloyd broke up.

The smirk he gives you is enough of an answer.

“Are we going to pre-game before the party?” Bucky asks as he plops down onto the couch in the employee lounge, shaking a tumbler of his protein shake in his hand. “Last year’s booze ran out so fast, I went home seeing straight. I don’t want to be sober on Halloween night.”

“You never want to be sober, Barnes,” Kate comments as she rolls her eyes, yet her interest seems to already be piqued. “But he’s right. Are we going to drink before the party or should we just hit the club after? I have a friend who can get us in at this club for free.”

“That could work but I’d rather enjoy the night drunk then get wasted at the club.” Bucky responds, taking a sip of his drink. “We could just meet up at someone’s place and pre-game there, then we can all go to the party together. Would save us gas too if we just take one car.”

“Who even lives near the venue?” 

You tune yourself out from their conversation and stab your fork into your lunch as the Halloween party is the last of your concerns. Besides, you don’t think Lloyd would be happy with you attending and you wouldn’t dare give him the opportunity to ruin the event for you and your friends or give him any reason to be mad again. 

Your friends exchange ideas, listing down people’s names of who they’ll be inviting for their plan of drinks and whose place they’ll be crashing when the door of the lounge opens and you freeze in your seat when Bucky calls out Jensen’s name.

“Hey buddy! You live downtown, right?” Bucky asks, patting the space beside him to which Jensen accepts. “We were thinking that—the fuck happened to your face?”

Your grip on your fork tightens when you chance a peek at both men, feeling your stomach drop when you see the bruise staining Jensen’s cheek. 

“Oh that?” Jensen chuckles, his fingers running against the side of his face. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I slammed against my door frame.” You know he’s lying, though you’re somewhat thankful he didn’t expose what Lloyd and his friends did. Still, you feel the guilt nipping at the back of your neck. 

“You’re such a klutz, Jake.” Kate says with a laugh. 

Jensen makes a face in her direction and you look away when his eyes meet yours. “Why were you guys asking if I lived downtown?” He suddenly asks, shifting the topic. 

Bucky takes the lead again. “We were thinking of doing drinks before heading to the party. And since you live closer to the venue, maybe we could just meet at your place?”

“Depends. Do I have to provide the booze?”

“We can bring some and you prepare some.” Kate responds. “Sounds good?”

Jensen hums audibly as he thinks of his decision. You feel the tension circling around you as you sense his eyes on you while he speaks. You don’t dare to look up, keeping your focus trained on the lifeless pasta in your lunch container.

“I’m in. Though who’s coming? My apartment isn’t that big so I can’t really hold a huge crowd.” He finally says.

“I’m there.” Bucky says, mouth full of his protein shake. “Tell me what you guys want and I’ll bring it.”

“Me too. Though I’m bringing my boyfriend along—that cool with you guys?” No one seems to object and you look up to face your best friend when she nudges you. “You’re coming too, right? Amber’s dragging Nick along and we won’t be complete without you. I even planned this super cool costume for us.”

You feel your body shake at her question. The pressure of going to the event with your best friends growing in your chest, colliding with the added stress of meeting at Jensen’s place and the fear of Lloyd finding out about the plan. 

“I don’t know.” You say with a frown, closing up your container as your appetite has already turned sour from the anxiety crawling up your spine. “You know I don’t do well at parties. I’ll just stink up the mood.”

“Aww come on. Please?” She begs with those puppy eyes she always uses to convince you. “You’ll be with us and if it gets too much, we’ll leave. And if you’re worried about that psycho ex of yours showing up, I can just show Andy in his direction and he’ll show him a thing or two.” You want to latch onto the assurance she gives you but she doesn’t know Lloyd like you do. 

Still, you could probably think of a way to convince him—he’s never been apprehensive of you spending time with your friends. Except it’s not only them who would be with you; Bucky and Jensen would be there as well, and you’ve already witnessed what he’s done to the latter, the evidence staring you in the face. 

And that would mean you would have to lie. Though is it really lying if you’re just omitting out the information he doesn’t want to hear?

But the plan didn’t go as expected. 

Instead of heading over to the company party after drinks at Jensen’s apartment, like what was discussed, you find yourself nursing a red cup full of shitty alcohol in a dimly lit house while surrounded by your friend group and people you only assume to be Bucky’s college frat buddies. 

You tug on the skirt of your black dress that’s a little too short for your liking, the cat headband already irritating you with how long you’ve been wearing it. You don’t know why you’ve agreed to Kate’s idea for the three of you to imitate the costume from that movie—you’re just glad she didn’t push you to wear a bodysuit and that Amber was happy to trade with the mouse theme you were originally assigned to do. 

Speaking of your best friends, you walk around the living room as you try to look for them, no longer wanting to be alone amidst the foreign crowd. But you frown when you see Kate at the corner of the room, her boyfriend’s hand planted firmly on her ass while they make out. Amber, on the other hand, was just on the other side, with Nick barricading her against the wall like some prison guard. Though with the smile you see on her face, she doesn’t seem to mind being isolated by him.

Your eyes then dart towards the front door when the cheers of men grow louder than the music blasting in the house. Three people walk in, each one wearing a mask over some effortless casual clothes underneath. But the one wearing the iconic ghostface catches your attention, noticing him looking your way with the other two standing behind him following suit. There’s a somewhat eerie familiarity to their masked gaze that makes you look away and leave from where you stand.

“Not really what you’re expecting, huh?” You startle when someone says too close against your ear, making you look up and chuckle when you see Jensen smiling at you, an opened beer bottle in his hand. 

“It feels like I’m back in college attending a frat party.” You comment, making the both of you laugh and tapping your cup against his bottle when he raises it to you.

“You went to a lot of parties in college?”

You shake your head. “Not really. Wasn’t really a party type.”

“Same. But I had no choice with my roommate dragging me to every party.”

You have no idea why Jensen is speaking to you—after what he endured with Lloyd and his buddies, you’d think he’d steer clear of you, probably even fear you thinking that history would repeat itself. But deep down, you’re happy to be in his company, choosing it over being alone in a place you don’t even know half the people in. 

The both of you chat for a while, finding a less crowded spot in the kitchen and helping yourselves with the food and the drinks that are out and free for the taking. You still feel bad when the bruise on his cheek remains prominent, though with his purple button up and baggy gray slacks, you think it blends well with his cosplay of Bruce Banner when you asked him who he was supposed to be. 

“I’m sorry for what happened to you, Jen.” You tell him with a frown, leaning against the edge of the counter as you look down at your drink. “I didn’t think Lloyd would actually hurt anyone.”

“It’s fine. It’s just a bruise.” He assures, giving your arm a pat.

“What about your car? Didn’t they trash it?”

“They did. But good thing I have insurance.”

It surprises you how positive the air around him still is despite the misfortune he’s met because of you. You almost envy his happiness, and the happiness that your friends have and you find it almost unfair that Lloyd wasn’t like Andy and Nick, doting and loving towards their girls, when both those men are his friends. You wish he’d learn a thing or two from them about handling relationships the proper way. 

Sadness then swirls around you as you contemplate on what your life has become; always scared and cautious, that Lloyd would hurt another because of his jealousy, because of his unspoken obsession to completely possess you.

Your train of thought stops when you feel your cup being taken from your grasp, Jensen replacing it with a fresh one, fizz floating to the top of the amber liquid. “Jack and Coke.” He says. “Your drink looked a little stale.”

But before you could even take a sip, you hear spine tingling screams coming from the living room. You think it’s some scary prank someone has pulled on another, you and Jensen looking at each other and pushing away from your perch to investigate the commotion. But in just a flash of a second, the whole house is in chaos, people running, scrambling for their lives while the three masked men you saw earlier run amok, shooting and stabbing the party goers one by one and leaving them bloody and dead on the ground. 

No sound escapes your lips as you’re gripped by fear upon witnessing the bloodbath, your body refusing to move even when your brain tells it to. But the hand that grabs onto your arm has you shouting in shock, only to be muffled by another and your eyes wide with horror thinking that they’ve got you. But to your relief, it’s only Jensen and he places a finger against his lips, telling you to be quiet before pulling you amongst the havoc for a way out. 

You try the backdoor first but for some unknown reason it wouldn’t budge open no matter how hard he yanks it. He tries the window above the kitchen sink as well but just like the door, it’s screwed shut. He pulls on you once more, leading you down the hall this time, the rave music playing loudly in your ears pumping the adrenaline in your veins while the sound of the screams die out one by one. 

He makes it to the end of the hall, the staircase free from the killers but with bodies lying lifeless on the steps—a woman with her throat cut wide open and a man with a bullet right between his eyes. He looks back at you, telling you to be quiet once more as he gestures that you both will be heading up. But before he could even set foot on the first step, one of the masked men appears and kicks him forward, making him topple over the corpses. 

A scream is then wretched from your throat when you’re suddenly pulled back, the stranger trapping you against him while he positions his knife just under your chin, feeling the sharp edge of the blade kiss your skin. The man from the stairs kicks Jensen in the stomach then again, your co-worker writhing in pain as another joins his attacker, this time with a metal bar which he slams against his chest.

“Hello, nerd! Long time no see.” The one who kicked him greets, the timbre of his voice making your heart pound against your chest. No! “Whatcha doin’ with my girl, huh?” The stranger asks before pulling off his mask and you freeze when you see Lloyd’s face. He then turns to you, a cocky smirk playing on his lips and sending you a wink before he asks, “Whatcha doin’ here, Kitten? Thought you were at a company party?” The sly twist in his voice has you on edge.

The smirk on his face then fades, turning into a scowl when he nods at the man who’s got you trapped against him. You’re then released from his hold but not for long as Lloyd simply takes his place, grabbing you by your arm, wincing from his tight grip and dragging you into the living room where you see countless bodies lying lifeless on the ground and the walls of the house painted crimson.

He shoves you against the couch where you fall against something cold and sticky, only to realize too late, crying out to see that it’s Bucky you landed on; his blood staining your dress and your hands. But you’re then pushed away from him, falling back on the cushions as Lloyd kicks his body off the surface to take the space he once occupied. 

You feel like you’re about to convulse as you cry when Lloyd wraps an arm around you. You try to push away from him, not wanting to be near him but he shakes you like a rag doll, making you stop before gesturing over to someone you cannot see as your eyes are blurry from your tears and remain locked on your dead friend’s feet. 

“Gentlemen, thank you for all your help.” Lloyd says when the music finally dies and you look up, surprised to see Andy and Nick standing unscathed with only splatters of blood staining their costumes. But what has you more jarred is seeing Kate and Amber bound and gagged, sitting against the floor, they’re eyes wide in fear as they squirm to be free from their restraints. 

You’re suddenly off your seat and on your feet, determined to get to them, to help set them free and run away from this horrid place. But Lloyd is quick to yank you back, grunting when you fall onto his lap and his strong arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place.

“Relax, Kitten. They’re safe.” Lloyd assures, his gloved finger grazing against your cheek. “Just had to go through some extra measures to keep them out of the way.”

“We did our part, Hansen.” Andy says, pulling Kate from the ground who forcefully tries to pull away from his grip while Nick does the same with Amber, who in turn quietly follows while tears keep running down her face. “Just don’t forget the deal.”

“Yeah yeah. Just make sure your bitches know what to say if they’re questioned.” Lloyd responds with disinterest. “Meet me by the end of this week for your payment.”

It’s all the words the men exchange before dragging away your friends, their wide and fearful eyes being the last you see before the door closes behind them. 

The sound of wood being dragged across the tiled floor then makes you look forward, seeing Chris and Conrad, now with their masks off, placing a chair in front of you and Lloyd while the latter drags Jensen’s beaten body and forces him to take a seat. Both men then go to work, effectively binding their captive’s wrists behind his back with tape and his ankles to the legs of the chair.

The sight of his damaged state breaks your heart as you helplessly feel guilty upon thinking that everything that has happened to him is all your fault. You never should have come here in the first place as soon as you found out about the change of plans. You should have just gone home or better yet, you should have just stayed at home where you know Lloyd would be.

Yet the universe could be so cruel.

“Look what we found on him.” Chris says in a serious tone before pulling out a small ziplock bag from Jensen’s shirt pocket and tossing it over your lap. You glance down at the clear packaging, seeing several small white tablets enclosed in it. What?

“Lover boy here was so desperate to get laid he brought roofies with him.” Conrad adds with a laugh, pushing on the back of Jensen’s head hard that his body jolts forward.

The bag is then taken from your lap, Lloyd holding it up close to his face as he inspects the white circles. You yelp when you’re suddenly shoved off his lap, falling over to the floor while Lloyd steps over to Jensen and grabs him by his hair, pulling his head back while he holds the baggie in front of him, breathing heavily like some wild animal through gritted teeth.

“You were gonna drug my girl, weren’t you?!” Lloyd spits out his words and on Jensen’s face, tossing the tablets in Conrad’s direction, your throat eliciting a gasp when he holds a knife to his neck this time. “Did you take any drink from him?!” He asks, but it takes a second for you to realize that he’s talking to you. He turns in your direction, eyes dark with anger. “Any fizzy shit this asshole gave you?!”

You don’t understand what he’s asking, why the sudden interrogation—then it hits you. In the kitchen while you were busy with your thoughts, Jensen took your stale drink, as he claimed, and replaced it with another. No—it can’t be. He said it had coke in it and sodas make a fizz. 

“I won’t ask again, Kitten.” Lloyd pushes and you nod out of fear, knowing that he would find out that you’re lying to him if you said otherwise.

The look on Lloyd’s face shifts into something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand. Like something sinister has possessed him with the way his lips curl in a playful manner. 

A groan leaves Jensen’s lips when Lloyd releases him and you push yourself back against the couch when he goes for you next.

“Lloyd, please—!” you beg as he tucks the knife in his pocket, yanking you from the ground and shoving you forward, planting you firmly in front of Jensen before forcing you to bend over. “Let’s just go home—you already beat him!” You cry, pushing against Jensen’s thighs when Lloyd doesn’t budge and keeps dipping you further.

You feel like you’re going to gag when the metallic stench fills your nose especially with how close you are to your bleeding co-worker and you attempt once more to push away from him, no longer wanting the both of you to suffer. But the world suddenly feels like it’s turning upside down when you feel Lloyd pushing up the skirt of your dress, a grunt leaving his chest when he roughly rips your panties off your thighs.

“Now, don’t be like that, Kitten.” He says in a syrupy tone. “Don’t you want to at least show him his sick fantasy of fucking you?” The tell tale sound of his zipper being undone fills your ears and you’re shocked frozen, scared to the wits end that Lloyd would take you here amongst the dead and in front of your friend who he’s beaten to a pulp.

You look away from Jensen when you feel Lloyd’s cock brush against your ass, his tip teasing your pussy lips. You then shout when Lloyd grabs you by the back of your neck, forcing you to look back at your friend who has one eye swollen shut, while the other is stained with blood and brimming with unshed tears.

In one swift move, Lloyd enters you, gasping for air at his sudden intrusion. Pain blooms at the pit of your stomach when he doesn’t allow your walls to adjust and begins fucking you at a brutal pace, your nails digging into Jensen’s thighs as you try to endure your abuser’s torment. 

Your body jolts against the chair, following Lloyd’s callous thrusts. You’re then washed in humiliation when you hear Chris and Conrad snickering at your sides, seeing them watch you with perverse eyes, sickened to the core as the thought that they enjoy what they are witnessing comes to your mind.

Both men then hold Jensen in place when he starts squirming in his seat that he almost topples over. Lloyd then abruptly pulls you up, pressing your back against his chest but only to grab on the straps of your dress and harshly pull them down from your shoulders, having your breasts spill into the open.

“She’s got perfect tits, doesn’t she, lover boy?” Lloyd taunts as he keeps up the pace of his hips, grabbing your breasts, kneading, squeezing, and pushing them together. “Why don’t you feel how soft they are?” And it’s as if things couldn’t get any worse, Lloyd moves you forward along with him, tipping forward when your knees hit the edge of the seat. His hands grab onto the back of the chair and you wail in horror when he forces your breasts to press against Jensen’s face, the sticky blood smearing all over your skin.

Lloyd laughs and so do his friends and all you feel is shame and disgust at what he’s doing to you—that the man you once loved would hurt you in the sickest way possible.

A gasp is once more wretched from your throat when Lloyd slams hard against your cunt, feeling his thick cock slide even deeper when your walls grow wet, the toe curling sensation from his tip repeatedly hitting that sweet spot of yours trying to take over. You feel like a woman possessed as you grit your teeth, pushing hard against the unwanted pleasure that slowly begins to crawl up your skin and seep into your bones, not wanting to give Lloyd the satisfaction that, despite such circumstances, he still manages to make you feel such a way.

Yet your attempts are deemed fruitless when you whimper and eventually turn into a moaning mess, your body responding to each of Lloyd’s touch; your pussy walls clenching around his throbbing cock with each thrust he makes and how your skin shivers, singing each note in sheer perfection as you climb higher and higher to your peak.

“You see that, nerd? You see how she turns into a fucking slut when you fuck her good?” He goads between heavy breaths, adjusting the position of his legs to have you lean more against his victim, his hands grabbing onto your tits once again only to rub it further against Jensen’s face, feeling the bristles of his goatee rub roughly against your skin. 

“Too bad you’ll never get to have this.”

Lloyd's hips begin moving more erratically, the sound of your skins slapping with one another filling the stolid air. You swallow thickly, refusing for any more moans to leave your lips as you’re slowly enveloped in ecstasy, Lloyd’s cock pulsing deep in your pussy.

A blinding white light suddenly fills your vision and you shake uncontrollably as you come hard around Lloyd’s shaft. Tears once again spring from your eyes and you’re confused about what causes it. Is it embarrassment from feeling the pleasure? Pain from Lloyd’s roughness? Or is it sadness of how the evening of fun turned into a nightmare? You can’t think as you’re dissolved into nothing, your body floating in orgasmic bliss. 

Lloyd follows soon, growling low and animalistic as he keeps his cock buried balls deep, painting your pussy walls with streaks of white as he spills his seed, filling you to the brim.

You think that it’s finally over, that Lloyd’s objective has finally been met. But a life draining gasp then fills your ears—not from you or from Lloyd but from Jensen. And it’s only then that you realize what has happened when you see Lloyd’s hand gripped on the hilt of the knife with the blade stuck deep into Jensen’s chest.

“No!” You cry out as Lloyd stabs him repeatedly, grunts of passionate anger escaping him each time he sinks the blade into the body before you. 

Tears of despair and horror are what fall from your eyes, closing them as you hope that this is all a bad dream. You ball your hands into fists as you try your hardest to close in on yourself, to leave this place of torment that Lloyd has condemned you into. 

Yet, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t. With the sound of metal hitting bone, along with the devious laugh of the men around you and the way your body shakes from Lloyd’s continuous blow, you’re repeatedly pulled back into the present, unwillingly witnessing the murder of your friend. 

You suddenly feel your body shake, your chest tightening that you think the room is losing air and the smell of blood getting stronger and stronger that it makes bile ride up your throat. With Lloyd’s final stab, he pulls you away with him, leaving the knife buried in Jensen’s throat. The world around you suddenly turns, your vision spinning uncontrollably that before you could even let out a scream, everything suddenly goes dark.

You sit inside the employee lounge along with the others in somber idleness. The police came over just before the store opened and ordered that it remained closed for the rest of the day to make way for an investigation. Vince wasn’t happy with the commands of the law enforcers but there’s nothing he could do—there was nothing anybody could do.

A massacre, one of the officers said. A mass murder, another voices, declaring that some of the victims were employees of the store. You already knew who it was—Bucky and Jensen.

One by one, the employees were interrogated, some taking minutes while others taking hours. You glance at Kate who sits across from you on the lunch table, noting the small bruise on the side of her neck. You try not to imagine what Andy told her or did to her that night. You don’t even dare to ask as you refuse to relive the grim evening, nor want to feed her any memory of it.

You sit up once your name is called and you feel the eyes of your other co-workers land on you. The detective, stout and looking somewhat annoyed to be doing such a thing, looks your way and asks your name once more to confirm your identity.

He beckons you to follow him and you do, but not before looking down at your best friend when she grabs your hand, seeing the fear etched in her eyes. You give her a small smile and give her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting her go and following the detective into the other room. 

You do as you’re told when he tells you to sit, staring down at the round table that sits between the both of you as you wait for his first question.

“I’m Detective Bodecker.” He starts, his belly protruding as he leans back against his seat. “And I just want to ask you a few questions regarding your co-workers. Is that okay?”

You nod.

“Do you need some water? Anything to make you comfortable?”

You shake your head.

“Very well. Let’s begin.” He hums and grabs his notebook from the desk, flipping a page. “Where were you on the night of October 31st?”

Your mind suddenly begins reliving the night in question. Jensen’s bloody face and Lloyd’s devious smile playing in your head. You blink those thoughts away, not wanting to give out any information on your face.

Taking a breath, you begin your tale. 

“I was at a party—”

[thebluemage]

The Hills | Steve Kemp

Pairing | Steve Kemp x dark!reader

Warning | Explicit sexual content, 18+, smut, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, cyberstalking, hacking, gaslighting, dark web, black market harvesting, manipulation, mentions of canibalism, mentions of distributing of body parts, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of Stockholm Syndrome, dark themes, Steve Kemp (he's a warning on his own!)

Summary | You discover Steve’s dark secret but you still admire him for it.

Word Count | 3163

A/N | Here’s the next part to Obsession, enjoy! ❤️ Beta’d by the amazing @lunarbuck, but all mistakes are my own. Banner & divider made by @vase-of-lilies. If y’all enjoy it, leave some feedback, comment and reblog. I’d really appreciate it!! 💗

Taglist: @superdcchick @hallecarey1 @dangertoozmanykids101 @jobean12-blog @buckysteveloki-me @happydelightfulstrawberry @lovehotch87

First chapter | Series Masterlist | Masterlist | My Ko-fi

‘I only call you when it’s half-past five. The only time that I’ll be by your side, I only love it when you touch me, not feel me. When I’m fucked up, that’s the real me. When I’m fucked up, that’s the real me, yeah.’ - The Weeknd

A few days go by, and you can’t stop thinking about Steve. Between the back-and-forth texting, he is nice and funny, everything you could ever ask for. You’re absolutely smitten with him. Just as you pull your laptop onto your lap, you receive a text from Steve.

Hey, Angel. Want to meet up? 

Yes, of course! Are you calling me ‘angel’ now?

Oh, yeah! Unless, you want me to stop… If that makes you uncomfortable.

No, no, please. Keep going, I like that! 

Good, it’s a date! I will send you the address and time! I can’t wait to see you again! My angel.

He sends you the address that is located near the bookshop where you first met him, and it’s not far from your place. You decide to walk the distance there, which is just a few blocks away.

You walk into a warm and cozy cafe. The smell of coffee roams around the acoustic atmosphere of the place. It’s lovely. As you look through the crowd of people, you lock your eyes on Steve again. A smile spreads across your face.

“Hey there, handsome.” You approach the booth where he’s sitting. He stands up and greets you with a hug. “Hey, Angel.”

He’s wearing a soft brown sweater with black pants to complete the look. You wrap your arms around his body as you slide closer to him. His large hands touch your back while he pulls you into his embrace. The scent of his cologne infiltrates your nostrils as you smell his strong scent, a mix of a dewy scent of sage and bergamot. You never want to let him go, not ever.

“You smell nice.” You voice out when you sadly pull away from him.

“Thank you, Angel. You’re so delightful, and you look beautiful as ever.” He compliments  as he takes another look at you, roaming his eyes on your body. “Magnificent.”

Steve is utterly fixated on you. He can’t believe that he has found someone as heavenly as you are. Ethereal yet tangible, wholesome yet sinful to his desires. He only wants more of you with each passing second, he wants to know what you feel like wrapped around him as he rampantly thrusts into you. Fire arises when you look at him, as if you can see right through him. He can’t wait to take a bite out of you.

“You flatter me, Steve.” You reply to him, when you avert your eyes back to Steve, becoming aware of his intense gaze on you. Your eyes connect together, and you feel a spark igniting in your gut.

“It’s the truth.” He states as his stare lingers on. You couldn’t look away from him, afraid to lose this sense of coming home.

“Uhh, let’s sit down.” He takes your hand and maneuvers you into the booth. He takes his place with you sitting next to him.

“So, here come the awkward questions,” he declares while he laughs a bit. 

You tell Steve some basic information about yourself as he listens intently. You don’t want to reveal everything about yourself to him as you feel apprehensive about opening up, so you improvise a generic white lie.

I won’t tell him about my job and about my hacking skills. Maybe I can do more damage and use it to my advantage. 

You tell him a different job occupation and he nods notably.

A waiter comes to your booth to take your orders and leaves quickly, hurrying to the next customer. Several minutes later, another waiter comes with your orders.

“So, what brings you to town, Steve?” You ask him as you tilt your head curiously.

“My second residency.”

“Nice. I can imagine many women would line up just to get a procedure done by you.”

“Not that many, if I’m being honest. Most women that come to me want to change their physique. You have the occasional boob job, tummy tucks.” He plucks a red cherry out of the cup and pops it in his mouth.

“And butt lifts.” You finish for him with a smile.

“Yeah, that too,” He chuckles knowingly.

“Do you have any social media, perhaps?” You ask him as you take your phone out of your bag to search him online.

“I don’t have any.” He shakes his head immediately.

Hmm, strange. 

“Instagram?” You question, persisting on answers as you move closer to him.

“I don’t feel like sharing things about my private life.”

“Okay, that’s valid.”

“What about Twitter?” You continue the questions as you bring your body forward to him and lean your head against your hand for support. He takes a few sips from his drink, taking his time to answer.

“No. Does anyone have anything smart to say on Twitter? No way.” 

“How am I able to contact you more easily? If not via social media, and only texting?”

“I don’t know, you can always send me a letter the old-fashioned way,” he suggests jokingly, as you laugh at his witty comment. He looks up at you, and something mischievous glimmers through his eyes while he smiles at you. 

“What?” You ask him when he keeps staring at you, taking a glimpse at your mouth.

“You have such a beautiful smile.”

“Thank you, Steve. You’re so kind.”

The afternoon progresses to evening, and you and Steve lose track of time. When Steve goes to the toilet, you decide to peek into his wallet that he left behind. His ID card  presents a different identity than what he alluded to. His actual name is Brendan Steven Kemp. 

Huh. Should keep that in mind. What secrets are you hiding, Steve? No social media? Come on now, what doctor doesn’t have a social media of their own?

Before he comes back, you take a picture of his ID card from both sides for later search purposes and neatly put it back into his wallet. Between laughter and regular flirting, you both seem to be in a trance-like state, together in your own little bubble. The tension builds up between you and him; it’s undeniable. As soon as you two walk out of the cafe and walk the short distance to your apartment, the attraction is palpable.

“Fuck this.” You approach him and close the space between you and him. You grab his face and crush your lips onto his with a passionate fire.  

Steve immediately reciprocates and kisses you back. His mind races due to his own duality for you. He must have you. You moan when you feel his tongue sliding into your mouth, clashing onto yours with wild abandon. Steve is enticed by you while he roams his hands all over your body, like a madman. Overwhelming and hot. When you open your apartment door, you both storm through it. When your back hits against the wall of the tiny hallway, you start to pull your jacket off, and let it fall to the floor.

He pulls away slightly to catch his breath and looks at you through gentle eyes while cradling the sides of your face. “Maybe we’re going too fast.”

Oh. That’s the first time. Why is that?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush into it, we can slow down if you like.” You start to back away from the wall when Steve moves away from you, contemplating on what to do. You pick your jacket from the floor and neatly hang it to the coathanger.

“Uhh, do you want something to drink?” You ask him as you go further into your living room, going towards the kitchen. Steve runs a hand through his hair before scratching his forehead with his thumb as he watches you intently and doesn’t respond. He looks away for a second before you continue.

“Or eat?” He looks straight at you with a wild look again, as if he changed his mind again. 

Steve can’t let you go, no matter what. To him, you feel like a necessity, a longing that he hasn’t felt in ages, similar to the longing that he only has when he eats his type of meat. It’s inexplicable and indescribable. You’re the quintessential person of his desires. He lets himself fall on your couch when he sighs and directs his gaze to you again, almost pleading and hopeful. 

“Just you, Angel.” He gets out of the couch and makes a beeline straight toward you, grabs your face, and pulls you into him, pressing his lips hard against yours. Your breath catches in your throat while you place your hands on his head. A whimper slips past your lips as you’re unable to resist your longing for him.

You greedily touch Steve’s body wherever you can as you guide him to your bedroom. Every touch makes you crave him more, your thoughts whirl around in your mind at a rapid pace. He groans and moves the hand to cup the back of your neck and deepens the kiss, spearing his tongue in your mouth. Your nipples harden and your pussy clenches the longer Steve kisses you. You lay on your bed and start to undress all of your clothes quickly while Steve does the same, staring at you with a hefty and lewd gaze glimmering through his eyes. 

He climbs on top of you as he hovers his body over you while he stares passionately; his cerulean eyes growing darker by the second. He can’t believe your beauty, a stunning sight before his own eyes as if you’re a celestial being. He slowly moves his head down and starts to kiss you deeply again.

“I want you, my love,” he muses out hoarsely. He’s breathing just as harshly as you are.

“I’ve wanted you for days. Ohh!” You exclaim when Steve cups your breasts in his hands and molds your flesh before he pinches and plucks at your nipples, sending shivers up your spine.

“Hmm, you’re so responsive to me. Good girl.” He utters out seductively. He takes one of your breasts to his mouth and laps at your nipple with his tongue while flicking the other with his hand.

“Oh, fuck!” You announce as you close your eyes at the way Steve’s salacious tongue swirls around your sensitive nipple. He hums with how your soft skin feels to him, savoring every inch of you; his hands making their way to your aching core. 

“Let me worship you, angel. I need to taste you now.” He rasps out, with urgency in his voice. He makes his way down while he gently bites into your skin, leaving red marks on the surface. He sets himself between your thighs and bites into each of them.

“Oh, fuck Steve!” You moan as your face contorts with pleasure as he suddenly shoves his face right onto your heat.

“I’m going to ravish you until you’re not able to utter a single word.” His dark cerulean eyes pierce through you as he hums. “And you’re going to be mine.” The feeling of his tongue going through your slit makes your back arch from the bed, and you moan out his name.

“Please, Steve! I– I’ll do anything!” You plead through jagged breaths while he deliciously defiles you. He wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you firmly into place. He gives you long strokes, capturing every bit of essence you have. He sucks and laps your wet slick up with his mouth as if it’s the last drop of water he’ll ever drink in his life. He’s enticed by your taste, and he can’t wait until his cock is deep inside of you.

“Aahh! Steve!” You wail as you grasp a handful of his luscious hair and pull it. He groans, sending surges of lightning over your body. Your hips buck up as your body quiver underneath him, taking in all the bliss until you feel one of his fingers prodding into you, seeking entrance to your wet and aching pussy.

“Oh fuck!!” You exclaim as you arch your back from the bed while you hear the muffled groans of Steve underneath you. In one swift motion, he delves two fingers into your slit. A coat of your slick envelops his fingers as Steve licks ferociously on your clit.

“Come for me.” His sultry demand comes out low and husky as if he’s trying to contain his never-ending lust for you.

Your hips buck as your head falls onto the pillow from beneath you, when your eyes roll back into their sockets. You feel yourself come undone for him as your walls squeeze around Steve’s digits. 

“Aaaahh, Steve!!”

“Good. Good girl.” He ushers to your cunt as his strokes lightly decrease. He licks your wetness up with his tongue, and he hums out delicately.

“Hmm, you’re so exquisite.”

“T–thank you, Steve.” 

Your chest heaves heavily up as you gradually catch up your breath. He picks up your body tenderly and lays you gently next to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You still feel his erection against the lobes of your ass.

You turn your head in his direction with a questioning look.

“Huh, and what about you?” You look at him, confused yet still dazed from your ravenous orgasm.

“Shh, sh, don’t worry about me, I just want to be close to you, skin-to-skin contact. This night was about your pleasure, not mine,” He simply answers. “Go to sleep, my Angel. You deserve to be well rested.”

Your eyes begin to feel heavy as the dim night light protrudes from the curtain of your window. You lift your arm and wrap it around his chest, pulling yourself more into his embrace. 

“Okay, Steve.” You softly accept his demand as your mind dwindles away from any worries. Steve sighs peacefully in return.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, my Angel.” It’s the last thing you hear before your eyes drift to a close, and you fall into a deep slumber.

The next day stumbles in slowly, with the sunlight peeking through the curtain. Rays of sunshine fall upon your face, enveloping you in warmth. Your eyes open slowly, and you’re in Steve’s arms. He’s still sleeping peacefully when suddenly an alarm starts to go off. Steve opens his eyes rapidly and checks the clock, he hurriedly gets out of bed.

“Oh, fuck. I totally forgot the time,” He says when he starts to dress up in his pants again before taking his shirt off the ground. “My shift at the hospital starts in thirty minutes.”

“Oh, what hospital do you work at?” You ask innocently.

“St. John’s Hospital,” He answers while he pulls his shirt over his head. “My first procedure starts in an hour. A patient is going to be very happy with their boob job.” He continues.

“Well, they’re in good hands with you.” You affirm encouragingly. You hoist yourself up from the bed in a sitting position. 

“Why, thank you. I'll see you tonight, Angel.” He takes your hand in his and kisses the top of your hand gently. 

“That’s alright, have a good day at work, handsome.”

“I’ll be thinking of you,” He softly intones when he’s all fully dressed and gathering all his belongings. “See you later, Angel.” And with that, he leaves through your apartment door. 

You squeal cheerily as you start your daily morning routine. Once you’re dressed and finished eating, you think you should do research on ‘Steve’. You want to know everything about him, so naturally, you take up your laptop and place it on your island and decide to do a simple search on Google. The only results that come up are from his reconstructive surgery website and a few articles that he wrote but there’s something else too, another result, a woman named Ann Kemp. 

Out of curiosity, you click on the link. And it redirects you to a Facebook page of a blonde-haired woman with a picture of her family standing in front of a house. And there he is, Steve, standing and smiling with his family. He has a wife and a dog. Ann is holding the dog on a leash. You can’t help but to take another look at the woman, there’s something off about her, but you can’t exactly pinpoint it. You zoom in on her, looking at her hand, and you notice she’s wearing a wedding ring on her left hand. 

You should have known that he was married. He’s too good to be true. You take a different approach with your searching. Since you're a talented hacker, you know your way around technology and the mechanics of it. You pull up a more advanced browser that can search literally anything related or attached to that specific name, word or thing.  The general public would know that browser and use it to go on the Dark Web. You have a program installed, so your IP address isn’t trackable. You remember having a picture of his ID with his real name on your phone. So, you take your phone out and look into it and you type in his name ‘Brendan Steven Kemp’. Up come a thousand search results from the normal search results of ‘reconstructive doctor' to a much sinister, more disturbing and shocking result.

There’s a business. The logo contains a white background, and a red logo of a head of a goat with a snake eating itself around it is displayed. You click on the logo, and it redirects you to a website. To your horror, you come to find that Steve practices in the most inhuman activities ever done. He harvests human meat and sells them on the dark web. And here you are, looking at his webshop. The various ‘products’ are listed by mainly female names. There’s a hand that goes by ‘Hope’, and the description is ever so horribly detailed as if it is a delicacy. With a price tag of thirteen thousand dollars!!

I knew it!! You have a wife!! I have to get out her of the picture, though. I can’t have her orbiting around you like some lost puppy dog. I can’t have that, Steve. There’s also something wrong with her, and how did you meet her anyway? Let me guess, you probably kidnapped her too, and she got Stockholm syndrome as a result.

You immediately go to work with it and pick through his encrypted layers of codes, and when you finally reach the barrier, you unlock the access. With ease, you gain access to his illicit webshop. With another set of difficult codes you shut off his website, and everything turns black.

So, that’s why you’re so private, Steve. You have a wife and are a cannibal. Being able to kidnap dozens of women, probably mutilate them, so as to keep them alive until there’s nothing left, consume them, and ultimately kill them to sell them. And I thought so highly of you. Are you going to do the same to me? Only one way to find out, I guess.

[sgt-seabass]

How would Nick react in clockwork au if puppy was blearily saying James’ name in her sleep?

𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

✧˚ · . Nick wants all of you. And he will do whatever it takes to claim your soul.

pairing — mob boss!prime alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader w/c — 1.9k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. AU masterlist. listening to — ♫sleepless warnings —general dark elements (dark AU), a/b/o dynamics, manipulation. a/n — thank you for the ask and interest in the AU! i hope you enjoy. jessica chastain is not a representative of the readers looks i just wanted a gif of nick kissing a forehead lol. not beta read, we die like men.

The first time Nick heard it, he thought it was ghosts whispering that damned name in his ear.

The second time Nick heard it, he realised it was a scarier reality than phantoms.

You were calling for James in your sleep again, an occurrence that happened regularly.

Even after all the work Nick had put into making you his, there was still that subconscious part of you that held onto the past. Even though you smiled at him in your waking hours, someone else had a space in your heart.

It wasn’t like it was unexpected. Nick knew he would be crazy to assume you would have no residual feelings for your lost life. But it still hurt. His omega, calling for someone else.

He wondered what you dreamt. Did you dream of James in a world where he survived? Or were they memories of the past? Did he treat you well? Were you happy?

There was a quirk in your lips, a slight sway of your hips. Were you dancing with him?

Nick considered calling Steve. Doctor Kemp always seemed to have a way of making omegas comply, plus he was one of his greatest allies. But Nick knew that the heavy-handed approach wouldn’t be appropriate here. While Steve’s suggestion of having other alphas use you worked to break you down beautifully, accessing a soul was a task that required a delicate touch.

Slipping from the bed, Nick left you in your peaceful slumber, dreaming of the man you would never have. In nothing more than black sweatpants and a navy sweater, he sat in his chilly office.

For a while, he just kept the lights off and pondered.

If his younger self could see him now, he wondered what he’d think. This was certainly not the life Nick had intended to lead.

But the world was cruel, and so he became crueller. To escape hardship, he became the creator of it. A devil walking the earth. 

Around you, though, he wanted to be good to you. He would never forget when he heard you laugh for the first time. Nick had accidentally tickled your sides while brushing past you, and the sound that came from you was glorious.

Nick sighed, pouring himself a scotch from the decanter. He’d burn the world, but keep you safe always.

After he’d finished his glass, the familiar burn of liquor pooling in his belly, Nick turned to the only other person he trusted the opinion of.

Hal Carter. The alpha worked on Ari’s ranch. While Ari bred omegas using alpha studs, Hal trained them and kept them calm. He was gentle. Those girls were taken well cared of, which was to be expected when they needed to produce pups.

It was an art how Hal could smile and exude calming energy to those around him. His words were always smooth like silk, rolling off his tongue so naturally you can’t help but listen. It helped the omegas stay calm, and they all trusted him. He was still one of the bad guys; all the alphas in his circle were. But he was the best of the bad. Scott Huffman, the one who would take Ari’s bred pups in and raise them on his ranch, he was a close second.

Within thirty minutes of texting him, Hal turned up on the mansion’s doorstep. The sun was barely rising, only subtle hues of gold beginning to grow.

“Thanks for coming so early,” Nick ushered Hal inside, bringing him to the office while the rest of the home remained in a dream state.

“I normally get up by dawn to go hunting anyway, s’no trouble.” Nonchalant as ever, Hal sat himself down in one of the office armchairs in his green plaid shirt and blue jeans.

Nick poured himself another scotch, plopping two ice cubes into the crystal glass. “Want a drink?”

Hal raised a brow, scoffing. “Unless it’s orange juice, no. I ‘ain’t drinking.”

“I can do that,” Nick said, disappearing from the room and returning with a tall glass of juice, a slight shudder of nervousness in his hand when he gave it to Hal.

There was a rawness in the air, as if Nick wasn’t playing a game. He was putting his whole deck of cards on the table for Hal to see. It was hard to trust, but Nick didn’t have anywhere else to turn.

Nick sat in the armchair opposite Hal, swirling the liquid in his glass, and Hal quirked his head. “Look, as much as I love catching up with you, why did you ask me here so urgently? Is something wrong?”

Nick went through the long explanation of your past, how you came into his care, and how you were acting now. Hal listened attentively, face staying blank as the horrors were laid bare. After explaining, Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I want her to dream of me. Dream of her alpha.”

“So, what you’re telling me is you’ve killed her alpha, kidnapped her, had her gang fucked, chased her, and choked her until she passed out, yet you expect her to dream of you?”

There was a beat of silence before Hal spoke again. “Do you really act like her alpha? She’s not a toy, Nick. And she’s not just a pet. You have to be gentle.”

“I don’t know how to be gentle,” Nick sneered, crossing his arms defensively. 

“Bullshit. Every alpha has a gentle instinct deep down. Be the alpha your sister and mother would have wanted you to become.”

Nick growled and stood, throwing the glass at the wall behind Hal’s head, the crystal shattering into a million shards across the dark hardwoods. It was ballsy bringing up his family. The other alpha flinched slightly, but he wasn’t afraid.

Nick puffed his chest, gritting his teeth so hard they were ready to shatter. “That’s a cruel thing to say. You’re pushing it, Hal.”

“It is cruel. But it’s what ‘ya needed to hear. The world is fucked, but her world doesn’t have to be. You’re the one bringing that upon her. You want her to dream of you? Give her memories good enough to dream about. You’ve broken her down, and done the harsh things you needed to. Now you need to build her back up. Without that affection, she will just continue to crumble time and time again. Don't you want to see her smile?”

“More than anything,” Nick grumbled, sitting back in his chair with a hardened expression. He wanted to feel your happiness through the bond. It was like a drug.

Hal drank the last of his juice, setting the glass down gently on the side table. “Then, there you go. Just work to make her smile for you more. Life is good with a happy omega, Nick.”

“She hates what I do, though. And I can’t - and won’t - change that.”

“Then make her existence with you good enough to outweigh that.” Hal proposed the idea like it was easy. Just treat you right, and it would all fall into place.

But was it really that easy?

The chase had changed you. You were more receptive to Nick and seemed more content overall. But he could still see the flickers of fear that lay dormant, ready to wake at any time. And James— Well. Your subconscious hadn’t let him go yet.

Perhaps Hal was right. Maybe you were broken enough that you’d adapt to this life with some positive reinforcement.

After Hal had left, Nick ordered the staff to make you breakfast before he wandered back up to the bedroom, the morning sun beginning to peek past the blinds. Nick took his jumper off, wanting to feel your skin on his. 

You shifted a little in your sleep when the bed dipped from Nick’s weight, his arms looping around you and pulling your naked form close. “...Alpha…?” You asked blearily. It wasn’t often you got morning cuddles like this. Normally, Nick was already working by the time you rose.

“Morning, omega,” Nick kissed your forehead, spooning you so his warm, firm chest was flush with your back. “Nice dreams?”

You stiffened for a moment before nodding, curling into his hold comfortably. “Yeah.”

“Good. I need you full of energy today,” Nick said as he kissed your neck gingerly, a soft contrast to his tight hold on you.

Nick ran his hand up and down your side, fingers running over the bruises he’d left on your skin the day prior when he fucked you rough over his desk.

“Are we playing hunt the whelp?” Your voice wavered nervously. So meek, so small. Nick nearly growled at the thought of hunting you, but he held it back.

Nick cleared his throat, shifting a little, so his hard-on wasn’t too obvious against your ass. He was trying to focus, all his energy going into being nice. But Nick could tell you knew he was turned on, your own arousal signalling through the bond. “No, no. We’re going shopping.”

You perked up at that, turning to look at Nick. Your curious shining eyes had his heart skipping a beat. “Shopping? Like, going outside?”

“Yes. We’re going into town. I’ll buy you whatever you want.” 

The excitement that flooded the bond was overwhelming. Nick had never felt anything like it. You were happy. But there was some anxiety there too. “Won’t people recognise you? What if something goes wrong?” You asked with a growing frown.

Nick shhed you, gently running his finger over your frown and pushing your lips up at the edge so you were smiling. “You’re the safest omega in the world. Plus, Beck and Mace will be there too.”

Your expression turned into a genuine smile. And Nick smiled back.

“Sit up. I need to check your head.” Nick turned to the bedside, getting together his dabbing alcohol and bandages. You always seemed to end up with some injury after Nick had a bad day. It wasn’t overly intentional, but his anger often turned into dark arousal that left you sore and battered but pleasured too.

You’d banged your head on the desk yesterday when Nick shoved you down and caught your forehead on one of his fountain pens. It left a cut, but Beck dismissed it as minor, needing to be covered with a plaster.

Nick pulled away the bandage with you sitting cross-legged in front of him. He hummed, content at the sight of the healing cut. “Looks good, pup. My good girl, healing so well.”

Nick could feel the heat radiating from your skin as he gently cleaned the cut before placing a fresh bandage on the wound.

“Ah, just in time.” Nick put his things away as your breakfast was brought in. Pancakes with maple syrup and strawberries.

You seemed like a fish out of water, and Nick understood that. He was flipping his demeanour for you. This was new for him, but not entirely unwelcome, especially when he felt your ease through the bond.

Nick sat with you, cutting up the pancakes and feeding you small bites. Every so often, you would meet his gaze, a little twinkle in your eye that wasn’t there before.

It wouldn’t always be like this, and Nick knew he had a long way to go in putting your pieces back together.

But it was a task he knew he would never fail. 

He would have all of you.

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

[avintagekiss24]

—main menu.

[brittany. eighties baby. taurus. black girl]

this blog is 18+ only. you are responsible for your online experience.

all fics on this blog are written with black!fem!readers in mind, and all fics are black coded. no, i don’t care if you don’t like it.

—navigation.

masterlist // masterlist blog // fic library

—most recent.

[->] bless me if i'm being too forward

dark!modern!lee bodecker x black!reader

1,500 words. dark fic.

[->] it's the freak in me i wanna show ya

steve kemp x black!reader

10,317 words. dark fic.

[->] the truth of lust woman to man

sub!bucky barnes x black!Dom!reader

10,347 words.

[avintagekiss24-masterlists]

→ s t e v e | k e m p

last updated: april 17th 2022 | dividers by @firefly-graphics

all reader inserts are black!reader

* - smut | ✝︎ - 1k+ notes

\\ * it’s the freak in me i wanna show ya | you’ve messed up six months of training. now it’s time to learn your lesson {dark!fic}

[navybrat817]

Hello, lovelies! As a working mom and writer, I often fall behind on reading and reblogging fics from fellow writers. I decided to take part in the Stardust Reblog Challenge put together by @natrace as a small step to change that! My goal is to reblog one fic a day between September 1st and December 31st, hopefully more! Below are the fics shared and will feature Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans characters (for now). Show these writers some love and please heed any warnings provided. Enjoy!

Moodboard by yours truly and dividers by the talented @saradika.

September Fics

9/1 - It Had to Be You (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @s-tarksintern

9/2 - Plan B (Dark!Ari Levinson x Reader, Dark!Andy Barber) by @slyyywriting

Happy Birthday Doll (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @secretswiftymarvelfan

9/3 - Truth Conquers All - Part 1 (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @yarnforbrains

9/4 - Waiting for This (Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Reader) by @musingsinmoonlight

9/5 - You Really Wanna Do This Now? (Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader) by @luxeavenger

Lap Time (Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader) by @tumblin-theworldaway

9/6 - Infinity (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

9/7 - Chaleur (Pre-serum!Steve Rogers x Reader) by @moonstruckbucky

9/8 - Monster (Bucky Barnes one-shot) by @moonbeambucky

9/9 - Comfort (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @jewels2876

9/10 - Drunk Or Baby (Andy Barber x Reader) by @fictional-affairs

9/11 - Baker's Dozen (Dark!Steve Rogers x Black!Reader) by @boxofbonesfic

9/12 - Dangerous Dance (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @princessmisery666

9/13 - Hands (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @qu1etwolf

9/14 - Cold Little Paws (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @majestyeverlasting

9/15 - Fingers (Tattoo!Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @buckycuddlebuddy

9/16 - Spooky Season (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

9/17 - Into This World, We're Thrown (Steve Kemp x Reader) by @onceuponastory

Lee Bodecker in the Fall (Lee Bodecker x Reader) by @treatbuckywkisses

Blind as a Bat (Jake Jensen x Reader) by @pagesoflauren

9/18 - Sleepy (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @sweetdreamsbuck

Prism (Robert Pronge x Reader) by @needleandhammer

9/19 - Playing For Keeps (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @tuiccim

Narcissist (Ransom Drysdale x Reader) by @chrissquares

9/20 - Boring, Boring, Boring (Lloyd Hansen x Dark!Reader) by @rustytricycle

9/21 - A Gentleman in the Streets (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @christywantspizza

9/22 - Love by Moonlight (Werewolf!Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader) by @strangeprincex-writes

9/23 - Down a Rabbit Hole (Dark!Jefferson x Reader) by @sgt-seabass

9/24 - Happy Ending (Steve Rogers x Mutant!Reader) by @nekoannie-chan

9/25 - Once Upon a Blue Moon - Part 1 (Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader) by @sagechanoafterdark

9/26 - Hold Me Please? (Stucky x Reader) @doasyoudesireandlive

9/27 - Personal Project (Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @slothspaghettiwrites

9/28 - Autumn Remembered (Ari Levinson x Reader x Andy Barber) by @wayward-blonde

Soft Ransom (Ransom Drysdale x Asian!Reader) by @brandycranby

Disarmed (Jake Jensen x Reader) by @ghotifishreads

9/29 - Would I Lie to You? (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @cockslutpadalecki

9/30 - Dirty Dishes (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @jen-with-a-pen

Parade (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @rodrikstark

Possession (Lloyd Hansen x Black!Reader) by @xsapphirescrollsx

October Fics

10/1 - Who's Your Daddy? (Destroyer!Chris x Reader) by @emerald-chaos

10/2 - In the Weeds (Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader) by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

10/3 - Meet Your Match (Dark Serial Killer!Ransom Drysdale x Reader) by @dreamlessinparis

10/4 - Make a Wish (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @sweeterthanthis

10/5 - Post Break Up (Hal Carter x Reader) by @writing-what-writing

10/6 - Unwell (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @msmarvelwrites

10/7 - Watching Your Footsteps (Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @lokislastlove

10/8 - Abduction (Curtis Everett x Reader) by @georgiapeach30513

10/9 - Rogers Family Recipe (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Enchant (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

10/10 - I.O.U. (Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

10/11 - A Whittle More Practice (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Dance in the Dark (Ghost!Steve Rogers x Asian!Reader)

10/12 - Meeting GiGi (Steve Rogers x Reader)

10/13 - See What You Do to Me? (Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader)

The Things You Do (Steve Rogers x Reader)

November Fics

December Fics

December Masterlist

[heavysoldat]

needs

steve kemp x fem!reader

summary: 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.

warnings: SMUT (unprotected period sex, dubcon, light blood kink, PWP) blood, steve himself is a warning

notes: saw a post about steve liking period sex and it sparked something within my horny, period-ridden brain, and now i’m forcing it onto you ❤️

The coldness of the sheets worn off a long time ago. Your body has held itself in the same fetal position for hours, locked in its own paused joints, skin trembling as you try to ignore the stabbing pain screaming at you from your abdomen.

You’ve almost single-handedly destroyed an entire bottle of Ibuprofen, crushing the weight of your small heating pad underneath your body. You’re in nothing but a grey hoodie of Steve’s, pitch black socks and special menstruation panties with a built-in pad you got somewhere online. Everything feels too tight and too lose at the same time. Everything is too much and not enough.

You can hear the faint steps of Steve’s boots as he wanders the halls, doing God knows what — leaving you with the coursing anxiety of being alone.

The door opens, faint in your ears, and you can register footsteps coming towards you. The bed shifts underneath his weight as he kneels beside you, setting a glass of water on the nightstand— the nicest gesture he’s made.

“How are the meds?”

You can feel Steve’s hands bunch up the material of your sweatshirt as he strokes your skin through it, his thumb rubbing circles through the fabric. “It hurts.”

He hums, eyebrows furrowing in worry, as much as he can muster. His eyes rake over your form, inch by inch, before attempting to meet your eyes again. You can barely see him with your face buried in the sheets, hair covering your eyes and blocking him from your vision.

“Can I make you feel better?”

His voice is low, deep, something familiar, and not in the way that feels natural now. There’s that rumble in his tone he only gets in two different occasions. Two occasions you know oh-too-well.

Two occasions ending with someone bloody or cum-stained.

“I’m hurting, Steve,” You mumble, burrowing your face in the sleeve of the hoodie. He hums in understanding, but he still continues.

Steve’s hands pull the hoodie over your skin, exposing your bottom-half, plump and panty-clad — you always thought they designed them way too skimpily to be period products.

He squeezes your ass, causing you to whine, and he chuckles airily at the simple reaction. He moves from beside you, gathering himself behind, kneeling on the bed.

You’re not in full fetal, but you’re still close. More than half of your body is facing down on the bed, but your ass is stuck up in the air, lightly turned on it’s side. The view is enough to make his paints tighten, along with the light whimpers you make when your body starts to ache.

“Honey…” He tsks. “Lemme take care of you.”

You know him too well for this. You know he’s not taking in your well being, it’s all for him, for his pleasure, but something about that- something about that is for you. Something about him taking what he wants makes your cunt clench around nothing.

He takes his thumb, rubbing you over your panties, digging his thumb deep so he can press hard on your clit. You whine at the contact, and your body instinctually shoves itself closer to him. He grips your hip with his free hand, keeping you locked in place.

“You think you’re wet enough to take it?”

You dig your foot into his thigh when he rubs you faster, keening at his movements, your breathing getting faster.

“Can fuckin’ feel it,” Steve groans, cock straining against his slacks, “Can’t wait for you to stain my cock.”

He pulls down your panties with a tug, revealing your glistening cunt to him. You can hear the clanging of his belt as he pulls it off, tugging his pants down and letting his cock bounce free.

Steve leans over you, pressing his chest against the expanse of your back. His breathing tickles your skin as he presses his face in your neck, nipping at it with small bites, playing with you like a toy. His cockhead is sliding through your folds, up and down, teasing your entrance with the promise of filling it.

He grunts as he slides in. His chest rumbles against your back while his cock slides within your walls, your cunt practically sucking him in. Your arousal; granted by his earlier teasing, mixed with the continuous stream of blood is enough to help him bottom out almost immediately, setting the ache in your cunt that makes you moan against the sheets. He’s pressing so much weight onto you you’re practically squished, drowning underneath his body and the expensive cushioning.

“Pussy’s fucking perfect,” He’s grunting, groaning in your ear, already thrusting shallowly inside your cunt. “Perfect wet little hole, fuck.”

“Steve,” You’re whining underneath him, thighs sticking together with sweat, fingers tangling in the sheets as his thrusts get faster. His balls ars slapping against your skin, filling the air with obscene smacking sounds, followed by his relentless sounds and your muffled whimpers. He can’t help it, can’t help the way your cunt grips him, can’t help the way your smell makes him want to flood your pussy right then and there — can’t help that the promise of you whimpering under him is enough to make him feral.

Steve looks down, watching his cock slide out of your cunt, amazed as he watches it come out red — stained with you.

“It’s too much,” You whine, but he just chuckles. Chuckles in your ear with a tsk, tugging you back and forth on his dick.

“You can fucking take it,” He says, so sure of himself — so confident in the fact that you’re always good for him. Always ready for him to take you whenever he needs. Always ready to be his good little hole. Just as he needs you to be.

His cock slamming against that one spot inside of you, over and over again is enough to make you sob — reaching back to grab his arm, nails digging so deep you think it might draw blood.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” Steve gets faster, gets harder, turns into a man on a mission. “Gonna cream on my cock, honey? Fuckin’ do it, clench around it, baby, cum so fucking hard, you can do it. Fuck, c’mon, please,”

When he ends it with a whine, it’s enough to do you in. Your cunt spasms around his length, cumming harder than you thought you could, orgasm wrecking through you like a freight train. Your nails dig deeper, face buried farther in the bed, legs growing stiffer, sobs getting louder as you come.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it,” His moans are getting more desperate, less held back. He sounds like he’s in heat; gasping and whining, lost in the feeling of your cunt’s flutters. “Gonna cum in your dirty pussy,”

And he does. With one last, final slam, his cum floods your already drenched heat. He bites onto your shoulder as he comes, eyes slamming shut with the force, moaning deeply into your skin.

You two lay there in silence as you come down. Your skin is sticking together with sweat, bodies tied to each other with come and heat, dripping down from within your thighs and onto his perfectly made sheets. Your legs are still trembling.

Steve is almost sad as he pulls out of your cunt, smiling as he feels it try to keep him inside. The mix of cum and blood floods out of you almost immediately, and you can hear him groan — feel him picking some up with his index finger and bringing it to his mouth, licking his finger clean and smiling at the taste.

He brings a final, gentle swat to your ass, tugging you down the bed and turning you to face him. As lovingly as he can get, he pushes your soggy hair from your skin, squishing your face with force to make you look at him.

“The bed is ruined. We gotta get you cleaned up.”

[avintagekiss24]

I’ve honestly been thinking about this all day lol all of my fics are my little horny babies and it’s hard to choose but I think right now, it’s a tie between

And

Rough sex and BDSM dynamics have just always been my jam lol 🤷🏾‍♀️ Nervous Steve Rogers and confident/flirty Bucky Barnes is always my favorite threesome dynamics as well 🥰

Thanks for the ask, @americasass81 🖤🖤

[thebluemage]

It’s All For You

Pairing | Doctor!Steve Kemp x female reader

Warning | Explicit sexual content, 18+, smut, biting kink, body worship, spit kink, use of pet name (Bunny), cunnilingus, dirty talk, praise, P in V, established relationship with Doctor!Steve and girlfriend!patient reader, doctor/girlfriend!patient dynamic, some fluff afterwards, Steve Kemp (he’s a warning on his own!)

Summary | Steve desires you with a great and fiery passion, and a deep love that goes beyond himself that he’s unable to leave you untouched.

Word Count | 1613

A/N | This is my first headcanon on doctor Steve Kemp, and he’s just marvelous and filthy at the same time!! Not beta’d, but all mistakes are my own. Banner & divider made by @vase-of-lilies. If y’all enjoy it, leave some feedback, comment and reblog. I’d really appreciate it!! 💗

Masterlist

Steve is the most insatiable man you’ve ever met.

He’s literally hypersexual, and he can’t get enough of you.

It’s impossible for him to not touch you, every second of the day when he’s in your presence.

He’d satisfy your every need, and every want or craving you have.

“Do you even realize what you do to me? How you’re able to make me addicted to you? To your soul and your body?” His sultry voice permeates from behind you; his tall frame towering over you.

“I’m just me Steve, just me.” You reply softly, while you ponder.

“Huh, I don’t think you understand what I meant by it,” He quickly turns you around to face him and cradles your face gently in his hold, his face is merely inches away from yours.

His breath touches the surface of your skin, as you close your eyes to the sensation.

“Open your eyes for me,” He directs firmly. “Let me see those beautiful eyes of yours.”

You flutter your eyes open, the moment he said it.

He instantly smiles, with his lips curling to each side.

“Beautiful. Absolutely, beautiful.” He declares in awe, completely smitten by it.

“I guess I need to show you of what you do to me,” He punctuates while he takes your hand in his and guides it to his bulging cock, straining in his pants.

“You feel that? That’s what you do to me,”

“You’re not just you, bunny. You’re beyond everything, I ever need. The moment you stepped into my office; I knew I needed more of you in my life. Not just as my subject; but as my wife. Eventually.”

Your breath catches, as you swallow the lump in your throat. Speechless to what to say, you drift off to stare into his cerulean eyes, while Steve holds your hand to his aching bulge. A deep longing increases inside of you.

“I—I want you,” You utter lightly as you feel yourself get wet.

“You know, you have to be more vocal than that for me to know how you want me, sweetheart. Tell me.”

“Please, Steve!! I want to feel your tongue deeply into my core and make me delirious with pleasure, I—need your cock inside of me, hard.” You blurt out, all at once.

“My good girl.” He intones satisfyingly. He picks you up and lays you on the broad marble kitchen island, as he spreads your thighs apart.

He lays you with gentle kisses and roams your body in delight, until he reaches your mound, he pulls the black plaid skirt you wore desperately up to your body. Not daring to tear that piece of clothing off of you.

It’s his favorite clothing piece on you, besides the suggestive and expensive lingerie he often buys for you.

When he reaches your red laced panties, he hooks his fingers between the thin fabric and rips it to shreds, with the remaining pieces straying to the floor.

“My panties!” You shriek as you hold yourself up with your elbows.

Steve chuckles as he bites in your inner thighs softly. “Don’t fret, my love. I can buy all the panties and sexy lingerie you want. Now just let me worship you.”

In one instantaneous move, you feel his face to your core. You feel his tongue going through your slit, ravishing you with desire; that leaves you breathless.

He moans into your heat in utter satisfaction, sending vibrations all the way through your body.

He relishes giving you the enticing bliss you desperately crave.

“Oh fuck yeah!!” You moan out in delight.

He wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you in place as you grab a fistful of his hair; shoving his face deeper in your cunt.

He sucks your clit intensely and flicks it with his salacious tongue.

You arch your back off the kitchen island, as a mewl slips from your mouth.

“P—please, Steve. I’m getting there, aaahh fuck yes!!”

“Hmm, you’re so addictive, so delicious.” He groans, while he collects all of your slick into his mouth.

“Yes, oh fuck!! Aaaah!!” You wail out loudly, as your entire body stills while a surge of bliss raptures throughout you.

“Yeah, that’s it. Good girl.” He praises you, before he laps up your remaining arousal, cleaning you.

“Now, open up.” He asserts and you immediately know what that means. You open your mouth without hesitation.

A spurt of spit lands in your mouth, the taste of your cum and his spit combined, lingers on your mouth while you swallow it in.

When you regain your breath, he picks you up and carries you in bridal style up to the bedroom. Once there, he lays you out delicately on the king sized bed you have together.

He rapidly undresses himself of his own clothing as he averts his eyes on your body.

You undo off your shirt and plaid skirt, as you keep your eyes fixated to his.

He crawls onto the bed and hovers his body over you, looking deeply into your eyes.

You could see the passion emanating in his eyes, a containing lust that’s about to be unleashed.

He draws you in with a long kiss, as his tongue seeks entrance to yours; you accept his while you place your hands on the sides of Steve’s face.

His well skilled hands roams around your body, not leaving anything out of his reach.

Steve fondles with one of your tits, flicking your nipple every now and then while he sucks on the other.

His leaking erection doesn’t go unnoticed to you, as you feel him poking your inner thigh.

He growls into your skin, becoming more feral with each moment.

“You said you need my cock huh,” He rasps heavily, through his lips.

“Yes!! I need it, I need you hard and slow. I need to feel every inch of you. I want your cock, engraved inside of me.” You gasp, while you feel his hands squeeze your ass.

He guides his cock near your entrance, lining himself to you, as he slides his length through your damp folds; collecting your slick.

Unannounced he plunges his length into you, and waits a few seconds for you to adjust to his size.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby. Love—the way you feel wrapped around me,” He declares while he tilts his head back, in pleasure.

He continues his rough and slow pace until he gradually fastens, as he becomes more and more frantic.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good in me!!” You moan in delight, as you clutch your hands on the satin sheets underneath you.

“Oh, yeah!! Cum with me, my bunny!!” He groans adamantly, in your ear before he roughly strokes your clit to add more stimulation.

The knot in your stomach begins to tighten, as a sudden burst of electrifying pleasure surges through your body.

“Aaaahh, Steve!!” You scream out, as your hips buck up intensely while you come undone.

“Ooh, yes!!” Steve moans, spurting his cum deep into your pussy.

His body collides to yours, momentarily exhausted by the intense bliss that he lays on top of you, for a few moments.

You regain your composure again and Steve lifts himself up with his arms, and maneuvers to your right, to lay beside you.

You hear his heavy breath reverberating through the bedroom, as you feel him move closer to you again, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“You’re wonderful, my love!” He muses softly, as he nuzzles his face to the crook of your neck.

“Oh, I also have a surprise for you!” He says enthusiastically, when he quickly gets off the bed and pulls out a big orange box from underneath it.

“What for? What’s the occasion?” You ask incredulously.

“Can’t I just spoil you without having an occasion with it?” He jokingly asks, when he gives the box to you.

“Steve, you didn’t have to!!” You proclaim, as you tentatively accept his present and take it from his hands.

“I wanted to, baby. Now, open it,” He encourages you, sitting to your side as he strokes your arm gently.

A small black logo is displayed imprinted with the words ‘HERMÈS’ in the middle of the box.

“I know, it’s something that you wanted for a long time and when I saw at the boutique, I took the opportunity and bought it for you.” He proudly explains.

“No way, are you kidding me?” You intone, amazed by his gesture, instantly knowing what he’s hinting at.

“No, I’m not a comedian, I’m a doctor.” He laughs to your comment, as he puts an arm around your shoulder.

You unwrap his gift, and there it was; a red crocodile leather with gold hardware, Birkin bag.

“This must’ve cost you a fortune!” You reply astonished.

“Only 300 thousand bucks, though.” He declares nonchalantly, while shrugging his shoulder like it’s nothing.

“Only?!” You scream in bewilderment at his answer.

Emotions overtake you, as you fly into his arms, thanking him endlessly.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you Steve!!” You express while leaving soft kisses to his face.

“No problem, my love!” Steve replies back, as he takes your face in his hands and gently strokes his thumbs over your cheeks.

“It’s all for you, everything,” He conveys, with a light smile to his face.

“It’s my way to showcase my love for and to you, you deserve everything what your heart’s desires, Bunny.” He expresses affectionately.

“Thank you, again. How can I show you how thankful I am?” You ask him, astonishment and wonder evident in your voice.

“I know a couple of ways,” He says casually, while he smirks up at you.

“Ready for round 2?”

@superdcchick

[geminixevans-stan]

Sinful Compliments - 1

Sinful Compliments MasterList

Pairing: Steve Kemp x Chef!Female Reader

Words: 2k+

Summary: It’s always compliments to the chef…. But at what cost?

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, mentions of human parts, non-con cannibalism, explicit language. Future warnings in upcoming chapters.

A/N: If you don’t know already, I am married to Steve Kemp and we are living happily ever after lol. This fic is going to go dark. Heed the warnings before you read and scroll past it if this is not your thing. Happy reading!  Like, comment, & reblog! ♥

Saturdays were meant for relaxation or nights out with friends for the average person. To be able to go out or stay in after a grueling workweek to let off some steam. But not for you, not with the profession that you picked out for yourself. 

All you knew since you were a small child was food. Nothing else in the world mattered like the different smells of food on a stove or in an oven. You could remember the earliest memory of your great-grandma teaching you how to crack an egg. 

The ting of the hard exterior against the ceramic bowl was music to your ears and the viscous contrast of clear and bright yellow filling the bowl would be one of your favorite memories to date. 

It was your introduction to the world of cooking as you knew it. From then on, you stayed in the kitchen, learning everything you knew from her and her daughter, your grandma as well. 

There wasn’t anything that they wouldn’t teach you and you were thankful for every lesson all the way to culinary school. Even there, you soaked up every lesson like a sponge with your own little twist. 

Sometimes, you would go against what you learned from the book and mix it with what you were taught from different generations. 

It worked for you in your favor. Whoever had the privilege of teaching you, would always sing praises and how you made even the simplest of dishes your own. 

There was no surprise that you graduated at the top of your class and awarded the honor to learn from the top chefs in France. From learning from your family to getting the recognition all the way across the world was something that stuck with you. 

When the odds were against you, nothing could stop you from overcoming them. 

Now as you stand in the renowned 5-star restaurant, Bon Goût, you were the highest-ranked chef, with your own crew under you. 

Patrons from all over the world flocked to taste your food, most saying that every flavor melted against their taste buds like butter. 

Some would say that your food was unlike any other, begging you for the secret of how you got every piece of food perfect. 

To your response, if you told them, you would have to kill them… literally.

Sure food was your passion and there wasn’t anything else that you would rather be doing but, regular meat became… boring.

You never knew the word for the things you liked. Never even cared to look up if there was even a description. All you knew was that the world needed to experience just what set your entire soul on fire. 

They didn’t have to know what they were eating, just that it tasted good. You were so good, that naming certain types of meat as their animal counterpart was easy. 

Every night, you would wait outside, an earlier time before the restaurant opened to get special shipments from your best dealer, Rob. 

He insisted on you calling him Freezy but you didn’t need to have his name circulating so close to where you worked.

He did the dirty work for you so that you didn’t have to. Perfectly cuts of the finest meat you ever laid your eyes on. You wondered if anyone else was in the same “business” as him. 

All those thoughts went away as the hustle and bustle of the dinner crew started swarming in, filling every chair to capacity. You were so good, that reservations had to be booked months in advance.

It was a regular Saturday night at Bon Goût, you ran a tight ship in the kitchen. No one tripping over the other and every person stayed in their designated stations, handing off what they completed to the next chef to complete the signature dishes.

What began as a common night, turned hectic as the owner of the restaurant called in a last-minute request. 

There was going to be a very important group being seated and they wanted everything on the menu. For most head chefs, they would have lost it. But for you? That was a challenge and you knew that it was doable.

With a curt nod to the owner, you assured him everything would be to the special guests' perfection. You were going to make sure of it personally.

The only announcement that you had to make to your crew was, “Get on your A-game. Don’t fuck this up”

Just like that, the crew and you worked like a well-oiled machine, producing the entire menu, and making sure to get your final approval before sending them out. 

You could hear the clamoring of guests all the way from the kitchen, watching the cleaning crew sweep and wipe every surface, making sure it was tip-top perfection for closing time. 

It was almost time to clock out when, a waitress by the name of Stephanie came in, her timid nature making its way over to you. 

You gave her a raised brow as she finally looked at you. She was silent for a bit, playing with the top hem of her apron.

Unlike other chefs, you treated everyone nicely and you knew this scene was very intimidating to the young girl. 

The corners of your lips rise slowly as you lean against one of the prep tables, “Something wrong Steph?” you ask hoping there wasn’t some prick that had to say anything about your cooking. 

Stephanie looked up, the words tumbling from her mouth, “N-no ma’am… Just that Table 9 would like a word…”

“What for?” the question lingering on your tongue as you push away from the table, going over to the sink to wash your hands. 

With a swiftness, Stephanie follows your steps, continuing to give you the run down, “They… well he wants to give his compliments.”

“He? I thought that table had a group?”

“Oh! They did, but the rest left. The guy didn’t want to leave until he saw you.”

What she told you wasn’t odd. You were always called out to soak up praises from different guests. But something felt off and you didn’t even know why. 

There was time to overthink it and your own bed was calling you. You give Stephanie a curt nod, patting her shoulder before, sauntering out the door and making it over to the large table. 

Just as she had said, there was only one man seated at the large mahogany table. The lights bounced off the shiny finish, illuminating his face as he took a final sip of the amber fluid in his glass. 

From afar, you could tell that he was handsome. The closer you got, the more you could see the sharp edges of his jaw and the neatly shaped coif that his hair was in. 

You had to give it to him, he could definitely dress. The navy turtleneck complimented the steel blues of his eyes and as you finally stood in front of his seated frame, you could see a hint of gray as well. 

For anyone else, he would be intimidating. But you weren’t the least worried, not when he laid his eyes on you immediately smiling at your presence.

It wasn’t common that someone caught your eye, but he had your full attention and whatever he needed to say, you were all ears.

There weren’t many people left in the entire restaurant save for the bartender, cleaning up his station, and a sparse amount of the cleaning staff.

The space was fairly quiet and the more the mystery man had his eyes on you, the more you wanted to speak to get to whatever he had to say to you. 

You clear your throat, giving the best grin you could give, “I heard someone wanted to give praises?” you waited. But all he gave you was a simple smirk. 

He pushed back, the legs of the chair lightly scraping the floor as he stood up. His hand extended out to yours as you quickly grabbed a hold of it. 

The minute your hands touched each other, the sudden sparks could be felt. Maybe not for him but the way he held your hand felt incredible. 

“I want to give more than that,” he says, releasing your hand and motioning to an empty chair, “Please. Sit, I know you must be tired. Might I say you deserve all the rest in the world.”

You didn’t need to be told twice as you pulled out a chair and sat directly in front of him. He waited until you were fully seated before taking his seat, scooting back up to the edge of the table. 

Silence stayed for a minute before he decided to speak first.

“It’s refreshing seeing a woman behind such great food. They get overlooked so much by men,” he starts off. You wanted to smirk yourself, but the humble being in you couldn’t even do it.

You stood silent, taking in his words. It wasn’t like this was your first time receiving compliments. Yet, the way the words rolled off his tongue, you were ready to listen to him say anything. 

“I must say… The pâté was my favorite. It spread over my bread like the purest butter…” he groaned, pressing his lips to his fingertips, “Just… delicious.”

The act alone would have been innocent enough but you were slowly becoming enamored and he was only talking about your food.

No one had ever talked about your pâté in such a sensual way before. 

You straighten up in your seat, purposely looking into his eyes, “Wanna know the secret Mr…” you didn’t even get his name

The man chuckles, nipping at the corner of his lip, “How rude of me chef. Forgot my manners. The name’s Steve Kemp and I’m your newest fan. Anything you give me, I’ll cherish it. So tell me… How do you make your pâté taste like pure sin?”

Steve’s eyes are locked on you now, waiting to take in everything that you had to say. It wasn’t invasive and just the right amount of comfortable. 

You lean closer, getting level with him, “It’s in the wine. Most chefs just put any old wine but I source mine out. Pair that with just the right temperature and time and you have sinful pâté.”

Steve leans back raising his hands as he gives a slow clap, “I'm… blown away. Do you source the meat out too? Surely you can’t get that from any old butcher.”

He was damned right about that. Your meat was the freshest of fresh and you couldn’t tell him exactly where you got it. 

You nod, leaning back in your chair, “Absolutely, the farm gives me fresh pork every week and I make sure to properly store the meat…”

Steve stays silent for a minute. His brows knitted in confusion before relaxing them, “I never got your name..”

Now your manners were lost. You quickly give your name and he repeats it twice letting it sit on his tongue. 

“A gorgeous name that fits her craft. Just amazing…”

You preen on the inside, your outside demeanor the same as before, “Thank you, it was given to me by my great gran, rest her soul.”

Steve gave a small smile, “I’m sure she’s proud of you. It’s an honor to be in front of such talent..”

The lights were dimming one by one signaling the final close, “That she would Mr. Kemp. If you don’t want to be stuck here… it’s officially closing time. I’m glad you loved the pâté

You both stood up, shaking hands once more pulling away. Bidding each other a good night, he said your name to catch your attention. 

Steve walked from around the table, his height a few inches over you. You gave him a questioning look, wondering what else he had to say. 

He was close enough that you could smell his intoxicating cologne filling your nostrils and you could have stayed in his presence forever. 

His body shifted as he lowered his lips to the shell of your ear..

“I know human pâté when I taste it…”

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Prompt || Steve Kemp is a sex demon who came to feed on Y/N. — Requested by anon <3

Pairing || Vampire!Demon!Steve Kemp x Female!Reader

Word Count || Less than 600

Contents & Warnings || Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, non-con, explicit content/language, hunter/prey kink, breeding kink, choking, biting, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids.

Random prompt event || Masterlist

For days now, you’d been yearning for him, hoping each night you laid in bed, he’d emerge from the darkness to prey upon your flesh and soul like he had done so many times before.

You always laid prepared—completely naked to give the demon easy access to do with you as he pleased.

On the sixth night of waiting for him to come back, there was finally a sign of his return.

A low and sinister growl was heard from the most darkened corner of your room—it was him.

Your entire body tingled in both excitement and fear as he emerged from the darkness, stopping by the side of your bed, towering over you. You try to speak and move, but his powers completely paralyse you.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” he uttered in an ominous tone.

You weren’t the only woman he came to prey upon, but you were by far his favourite—craving you every time you were apart, your body and energy the most succulent taste he’s ever had.

He gets on top of you and forcefully pries your legs open to reveal your glistening core. His other hand clamps down on your throat, constricting your breathing. His dark and menacing face is mere inches from yours—eyes pitch black.

He’s come to take you, and there was nothing you could do to stop him, although you didn’t really want him to stop.

He gets his cock out and lines his tip with your ready and awaiting entrance, forcing his whole length into your warm and tight walls.

A satisfying groan emerges when he finds his rightful place inside you. The tiniest mewl of pain and pleasure manages to escape you at being stuffed by him.

He fucks your pussy in long strokes, using and abusing it to his liking. His sharp teeth grace the delicate skin of your neck before he punctures the flesh—draining your life force as he takes your body for his pleasure. The concoction of the two sensations is nothing you’ve ever experienced before. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, and you never want it to end.

His hips moved at an almost inhumane speed; the need to procreate and the feeling of your tight and warm walls was what drove him forward.

An animalistic grunt is sounded deep within him as he cums in your womb, planting his delicious seed in you, hoping that this time you would end up pregnant.

Him filling you up and his thumb circling your clit was what you needed to come undone as well. Due to still being paralysed by him, the sensation you felt was unpleasant yet pleasurable—it was almost impossible to describe, but this was the feeling you craved and yearned for every night.

Tired and dizzy from having your energy sucked out, you drift into a deep and comfortable sleep. The last thing you remember is him kissing you softly on the lips before he retracts back into the darkness.

You wake up the next day feeling a little disoriented, your body sore and stiff. Was it real? Or was it all a dream? The evidence of the demon’s visitation trickling out of your hole confirms that last night was real, and you couldn’t wait for his next visit...

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Thank you for reading🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

[extremelyblackandwhite]

animals | steve kemp

pairing: steve kemp x dark!reader

summary: his bunny makes herself at home.

warnings: smut (18+), swearing, fresh spoilers, very dark themes (18+), drugging, shooting, wound and blood mentions

< masterlist

so what you trying to do to me, it's like we can't stop, we're enemies but we get along when i'm inside you. you're like a drug that's killing me, i cut you out entirely but i get so high when i'm inside you ...

Steve was locked downstairs, she was sure of it, she was sure he wasn’t gonna get out and try to harm her. He couldn’t, the door was locked, she had the key and the door appeared to almost be impossible to fumble with. Besides, if the door was possible to be tampered with, then surely Steve would’ve done it by this point as chased her with a scalpel. As pathetic as that sounded, he could still overpower her if she didn’t have a weapon with her. She should’ve tied him up, but now it’d be harder to do so unless she drugged him again which was gonna be much harder to do now that he expected her to do such thing. 

Y/N fumbled in the bed for what felt like the hundredth time this night before she was convinced she couldn’t sleep. She turned around in bed and swinged her feet to couch the floor, her eyes looking around the room as she wondered why she couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was because she was sleeping in a house with a freezer/fridge full of human remains. Great.

She padded the cold wood floors, making her way down to the fridge/freezer. She hadn’t opened it, she’d seen the leg in the weird compartment and called it a day for herself. Yet, she could do this, she was a neuroscientist, she’d had a year of anatomy and dissected rats and various organs in school. How different could it be? 

       - Holy shit. - she mumbled as she opened the freezer. As soon as she opened it, she was closing it, her hand over her mouth. - Right, you can do this. Just like anatomy class. 

She closed the freezer and made her way outside, grabbing a trolley of wood and bringing it over to the fireplace. With a simple flick of a match, the fireplace was on, burning hot in a autumn evening. Great, she told herself, great, before walking back to the kitchen and fumbling for a pair of gloves. She found some worn out ones and an apron which was good enough to keep all this very much far away from her. She closed her eyes as she opened the freezer, grabbing parts and putting them into black bin bags. 

Grabbing the same trolley, she placed all the black bin bags in them before rolling all of it into the fire. She turned around, rushing to the bathroom to empty all the contents of her stomach. That was ought to be stuck in her mind forever. Nevertheless, she still had the evidence in his weird kitchen compartment if she needed. She sat at the table waiting for the fireplace to die down. Once it did, she scooped the ashes into a Tupperware and walked outside to his car. She’d noticed a cemetery about 20 minutes away, besides, no one was gonna search for something like this in a cemetery of all places. She dug a grave before covering the Tupperware and returning home to take a shower.

Even with all that, she’d consider herself lucky if she could’ve caught two hours of sleep as once the clock hit 9AM she was awake once more. She lied in bed, staring at the ceiling for as long as she could before she decided to check back on Steve. Grabbing the gun from the bedside table, she walked the walk she’d memorised and unlocked the door. 

      - Had a nice night, baby? - he asked as if he’d never slept. - Could hear you walking all night. It was annoying. 

      - And I can see your cum stained trousers. Don’t you think it’s a bit much at 9AM?

      - Should’ve sucked me off, baby. That’s on you. - he smirked. - Come sit next to me. I missed you.

      - Did you know different bones burn at different intensities? - she cocked her head to the side and his smirk dropped. - At least you have a warm home.

      - What did you do? 

      - Don’t feel comfortable living in a house filled with ... with girls. 

      - SO YOU FUCKING BURNT IT? - he rushed towards her before holding her against the door, his hand wrapped around his neck. He probably would’ve done worse, had he not felt the barel of the gun against his torso. - You fucking bitch. Do you know how fucking hard it is to get all of that?

      - Oooh you kiss your mother with that mouth? - she unlocked the safety, her finger firm on the trigger. - Do you wanna tussle, honey?

Steve’s nostrils flared down, his hand leaving her throat but remaining close enough to have her between the door and him. He was stuck between killing her or fucking her until she was immobile for a good week. He guessed he could call that and the fact she had masturbated in front of him payback for him having a wife. That reminded him ...

      - This sort of attitude is the reason why you have an ex-husband. - he smirked, cocking his head to the side. 

      - Excuse me? - she pursed her lips, lowering the gun but maintaining it close to her. 

      - You heard me. Unpredictable, crazy, no wonder he cheated on you, baby. You’re a fucking night ...

Before he could complete his sentence, her finger pressed the trigger, shooting an undirected bullet into her leg. His eyes widened as she gasped, watching him fall back. Oh shit, oh shit.

      - Oh my god. - she put locked the gun, putting it on her pocket before lowering down. - Oh my god, shit. 

      - YOU FUCKING SHOT ME.

      - Shut up. - she put her hand over his mouth. He mumbled something she couldn’t understand, his eyes widened as she put both hands over his mouth to stop him from moving. - I can sort this out. You’re a surgeon, you can sort this out. 

She did this to defend herself. He was too close, he could’ve hurt her and she had to do something. He couldn’t be trusted. She wasn’t crazy, she was just defending herself. She messed up through the drawers of the big red trolley in the surgery hall, taking out as much stuff as she could before throwing it his way. He was a surgeon, he could figure it out by himself. She sure wasn’t gonna do it. At any point he could try and do something funny.

      - Thanks, baby, that’s gonna make it all better. - she held onto his leg as she continued to throw more stuff his way. - You better give me one heck of a blowjob after this, baby.

      - Shut up or I’ll shoot you again. 

      - Oh, I don’t doubt that, baby. - he took his hand off his thigh to look at the wound. Luckily, it wasn’t too bad. - Could I get some tweezers?

      - Why?

      - Aren’t you supposed to be smart?

      - Fine. - she looked through his trolley, finding some white disposable tweezers and throwing them too at him. 

Steve looked at her through hooded eyes before getting to work at fixing his wound. Crazy and unreliable, what a fucking woman indeed. He took the bullet shell of with the tweezers before grabbing the needle and thread to stitch it up. She stared at him, a gaze of both worry but also domineering. She didn’t need to say it, her eyes said it. Don’t try anything. It wasn’t like he was going to do anything now that he probably wouldn’t be able to get up for a few days at least without limping. 

      - You could show me your tits, at least. - he held the needle in one hand. 

      - Why don’t you think of you wife’s? 

      - So aggressive. - the needle pierced through his skin, a grumble vibrating in his throat as he tried to be the as thorough and precise while not under anaesthesia. He pulled the thread up, cutting with his teeth before throwing the needle to the side. 

       - Are you okay now?

       - What the fuck is that kind of question? You shot me and I had to stitch myself without any anaesthesia. 

      - You have yourself to blame.

      - May I ask, baby, what do you intend to do with me? You’re just gonna keep me here forever? You know my wife is gonna come find where I am at some point. 

She pursed his lips. His wife was the least of his worries, she could always end up down here with him. Not that she particularly enjoyed that idea. Besides, he was just trying to toy with her, he was just toying with her. He was trying to mess with her mind to get control. She was not gonna let him do that. 

      - I could just kill you. - she shrugged. - Or call the police on you.

      - You’re not gonna do that. - he laughed before grabbing her wrist and throwing her off balance. His arm pulled at her so she was close enough to feel his warm breath on her skin. - You wanna know why you’re not gonna do that? Because you like me.

      - Someone’s conceited. 

      - You like me because no one is ever gonna be as fucked up as you are. - he grabbed her face, smiling at her gaze. - You’re keeping me here because you’re fucked up. You’re no different than me, you’re crazy. Who’s gonna love someone like you but me?

      - Take your hands off me. 

He pulled her head towards his, crashing his lips against her in a kiss which was against her will but she definitely liked way more than she was gonna admit to him. She put her hands against his chest pushing him away before wiping her lips, the wound he bite before still too sore for her not to feel it. She stared at him like one looks at prey before walking off and leaving him there, locked in his own basement with a bullet wound on his thigh. Cheque mate, bunny, cheque mate.

Y/N, on the other hand, needed to clear her head from all of this. She grabbed her dress from the ground and put it on. If she was going to stay here, she needed clothes, regular food and to bleach all the cutlery and kitchen utensils. After dumping everything she could find in the kitchen in a mixture of water and bleach, she walked to his car, shutting the door and turning the music on. This ought to distract her. She pulled the window down, her hand out the window in the autumn weather as she drove down to the town centre. There wasn’t much she could buy at the end of the day and after a few hours she was tired and made her way back home. Besides, Steve wasn’t trustworthy enough to be left alone.

She spent another home cleaning everything from the washing bowl before throwing some vegetable on the pot to make something for lunch. She dropped the boiled sweet potatoes in a plastic bowl, mashing it with potato masher. She wasn’t crazy, no one was as crazy as he was. Keeping a fridge full of people sure is a way to be crazy and she was not crazy. Did he expect her just to willingly wait for him to come and harm her? Kill her? She still had so much to do. She was not crazy, it was not her fault that she had gotten cheated on. She did fucking everything, dressed like he wanted, fucked him whenever he wanted and cooked dinner only to be blamed of working too much. Stupid, fucking Steve. She dropped the potato masher, rushing down the stair and unlocking the door to where he was. 

      - IT WAS NOT MY FAULT HE CHEATED ON ME! 

      - Is that a new dress, baby? Looks good. 

      - I did everything. - she locked the door behind her. - Do you think I like giving fucking blowjobs every single fucking morning before going to work?

      - I’m a plastic surgeon, not your therapist. 

      - You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know anything because you’re tied down here while I’m upstairs making lunch! - she passed around in circles. - And I’m not anything like you. I mean, fuck, look at you, you take advantage of girls and then you kill them for the most disgusting of fucking activities. I am anything but someone like you. 

      - For a neuroscientist, you sure are dumb, baby. - he placed his hand against the mirror to help balance himself as he got up. - You like me, admit it. Go on, princess, admit it you like me. 

      - You’re delusional. - she walked up to him pointing at you. - No one likes you and I seriously doubt even your wife likes you. 

Steve smiled. He’d found the target, he’d found what made her tick. His finger traced her jaw before his hand was slapped away from her face. She was angry, yet he couldn’t find himself to be even slightly afraid of her when she looked that pretty in her white dress and matching pearls. 

      - Why are you trying to fight it, baby? We’re perfect together.

      - You seem to forget you’re already together with someone else. 

      - Are you upset I lied to you or that I have a wife? You’re jealous, baby? - she cocked his head to the side. 

      - Jealous? - she rose her brows before laughing. - Please, Steve. 

      - You’re jealous. Admit it, you like me. 

She bite the inside of her lip, trying to conceal the anger before she leaned in to kiss him. Steve smiled through the kiss, his hand pulling her waist close to him. She might be wanting to prove a point, but he was finally getting the release she took away from him last night. He wrapped his arms around her, both laying on the ground before his lips were all over her neck, biting onto old bite necks and creating new ones. She needed to be covered in them, enough for her to look in the mirror and think of him.

     - You’re using my car, baby? - he took her panties down her legs. - And buying some slutty lingerie, is that it?

     - It’s not for you.

     - Seems like it is. - his knuckles drew a line across her folds. - If you don’t like me, why are you fucking wet, uhm? Why are you soaking my fingers then, baby?

     - Are you gonna fuck me or am I gonna have to do it myself?

That struck a chord on him. Fucking brat. He pulled his trousers and underwear down, his hand pulling the hem of her dress up before he thrusted into her. She mewled, her hand holding onto his shoulder expecting the slow pace he used to torture her with, but instead, he immediately went straight to fast thrusting. His hand bruised her hips as he forced her onto his dick, where she should always be. Fucking brat, touching herself in front of him like a pathetic little whore. 

     - This is where you belong, baby. - he chuckled, his cock sliding in and out of her like an animal. - Under me, being fucked by me, my own personal fuck doll. 

     - Oh ... fuck .. - she bite her lip, her nails digging on the flesh of his shoulder, leaving half moon indentations.

     - Yeah, baby. Your fingers don’t satisfy you like I do, do they? No, you wanna be like this, under me, with my dick inside of you. You like being a cock slut? Do you?

     - Steve, I wanna ... - she moaned, shutting her eyes forcefully.

     - No, no, no, baby. - he slowed down, his cock painfully rubbing against her warm walls. - I wanna hear you say it. Tell me, tell me how much you need my cock inside of you. 

     - Steve, please.

     - No. - he stopped, his hand cupping her face. - Be the good girl you know you are and beg for me. C’mon, baby. 

     - Please. - she begged, her eyes watery as he moved yet painfully slow. - Steve, please, fuck me. 

     - That’s more like it, baby.

The sounds of skin slapping against one another, breathes and moans filled the operation room as he continued to thrust in and out of her pussy. It was obsessive, it was like he was a starved animal, finally getting his meal and dear god, he could just live wrapped around her warm pussy, to feel her walls contract around him like her life depended on it. His moves grew erratic before he came inside of her, rolling to the side so both of them were staring at the ceiling. Besides, she still had a gun. 

She prepared to rebut his statement yet was interrupted by the bell ringing. She sat down, looking around before a voice faintly echoed in the house. Fuck, what was she doing here? Y/N put her hand over his mouth, pointing her gun at his back as the door bell rang again followed by a louder call of his name. 

     - Don’t make a peep. - she looked into his blue eyes. - If I take my hand off your mouth, do you promise not to make a sound?

He nodded his head and she slowed move her hand away. 

     - What’s your idea now, baby? 

     - Let me think. - she sighed. - Put your trousers on, you’re going upstairs. 

     - I can barely move my leg ho ...

     - The force of will. - she got up, holding the gun straight towards him. - You’re gonna get rid of her. Lie to her, I don’t know, do something. 

     - For a second there, I thought you were gonna ask me to kill my wife. - he rolled his eyes, putting his trousers on before pulling himself up. 

     - I’m not a killer. 

     - Whatever you say, baby. 

She followed him up the stairs with the gun firmly pointed at him. She had no other choice but to let him do this, besides, he probably couldn’t do a lot of things with a fresh bullet wound on his thigh. He could get rid of his wife for a good time before she thought of a better plan. Y/N remained behind the door which led to the entry, gun in hand as he opened the door to his wife. 

     - Branden, what have you been doing? - his wife’s voice reverberated through the home. - She’s been here for two days. 

     - She put up a fight. - he pointed at his thigh. Always a good way to explain why he had a bullet wound and not say that there was a crazy woman behind the wall with his gun. - What do you need Ann? 

     - Well, I was worried. - she walked into the house, her heels tapping against the floors matching Y/N’s heartbeat. - I came here and the girl was loose around the house. Thought you were in danger. 

     - I’ve done this enough times to know what to do. - she followed her. - Which is why you should know I don’t like being interrupted when I’m working, sweetheart.

     - She was wearing on your shirt. - she put her hands on his shoulders.

     - You don’t even to worry. - he leaned down the kiss her.

The mere act had her scrunching her nose; the last thing she wanted to do was look at that for longer than she should. She continued gripping on the gun until she heard the door shut again. She took a few seconds before turning around the bend but neither Steve or Ann were anywhere to be found. Fuck. She looked around like a crazy woman, her heat palpitating until almost in a flip second she was thrown against the wall. Her breathe got caught in her chest as his hand tightened around her wrist to drop the gun to the floor and before she could fight back, a sting like feeling irradiated from her side. She felt sluggish, her breathe slowing. 

    - Sushhh, baby. - he whispered holding her against him. - It’s time for me to in control for a bit. 

[sunshinebuckybarnes]

Spooky szn is over and what a fun month it's been 🖤✨ Please make sure you give these gorgeous stories and writers the love they deserve. As always, you are responsible for your own media consumption. This blog along with the majority tagged are 18+ only and contain adult themes.

Eddie Munson & Steve Harrington ✨

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Eddie Munson x reader x Steve Harrington

Thor ✨

Libertad by @syntheticavenger

Dark! Biker Thor x Female Reader

Jake Jensen ✨

Kinktober day 1 by @bonkywobble

Jake Jensen x fem!reader

Bucky Barnes ✨

Don't fear the reaper by @dreamlessinparis

Soft!Dark!Death!Bucky x F!Reader

Pink dresses & picnic blankets by @sidepartskinnyjeans

Bucky Barnes x Reader 'Sugar'

Choke by @buckycuddlebuddy

professor!bucky barnes x student!reader

Peace of mind by @firefly-in-darkness

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Bound by the night by @jobean12-blog

Bucky Barnes x reader (Vampire AU)

Like real people do by @navybrat817

Professor!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Unattainable by @heavysoldat

dbf!bucky barnes x fem!reader

Owned by @jobean12-blog

Mob!Bucky x reader

Andy barber ✨

Curtsy by @luxeavenger

dbf!Andy Barber x reader

Discipline me by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

soft dark!professor andy barber x reader

Tacit by @wayward-blonde

Andy Barber x Reader

Frank Adler ✨

Tied to you by @sidepartskinnyjeans

Frank Adler x Reader

Steve Rogers ✨

His inheritance by @jtargaryen18

Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Angry sex by @howdoyousleep3

Mafia boss Steve Rogers x female reader

The things you do by @traitorjoelite

fwb!steve rogers x fem!reader

Merciless by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Medieval Steve x reader

Knowledge man by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

librarian!steve rogers x fem!reader

(She moves with) shameless wonder by @ussgallifrey

Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Steve Harrington ✨

Boys in bed with books by @jobean12-blog

Steve Harrington x reader

Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes ✨

Civil war - Brooklyn by @saiyanprincessswanie

Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Lloyd Hansen ✨

Tell me I'm yours by @luxeavenger

Lloyd Hansen x reader

Nick Fowler ✨

Anew by @sidepartskinnyjeans

Nick Fowler x Reader

Soldier Boy & Steve Rogers ✨

American beauty/American psycho by @cockslutpadalecki

Soldier Boy x Reader x Nomad!Steve.

Steve Kemp & Ransom Drysdale ✨

Let's play a game by @dreamlessinparis

Steve Kemp x F!Reader, Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

Sam Wilson ✨

Good morning by @fluffyprettykitty

Sam Wilson x reader (no other specifications or gender)

What happens in Vegas by @firefly-in-darkness

Sam Wilson x Reader

Curtis Everett & Jake Jensen ✨

Crybaby by @onsunnyside

Curtis Everett x virgin!reader x Jake Jensen [College AU]

Lloyd Hansen & Nick Fowler ✨

All the time by @geminixevans-stan

Lloyd Hansen x Female Reader x Nick Fowler

Eddie Munson ✨

In the name of love by @thornsnvultures

Eddie Munson x plus size!fem!Reader

Like the dirty girl you are by @magnoliabutters

eddie munson x reader (female 18+)

Lee Bodecker ✨

Bless me if I'm being too forward by @avintagekiss24

dark!modern!lee bodecker x black!reader

Ari Levinson ✨

Mafia!Ari by @angrythingstarlight

Mafia!Ari x Reader

[trash-for-seabass]

Juicy.

Pairing: Dom!Steve x Sub!Reader.

Warnings: Sex toys, Overstimulation, D/S tones, Cunnalingis, Squirting, Bondage.

Authors note: ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

∞=∞=∞=O=∞=∞=∞

“Still doing alright darling?”

Cocky bastard, sipping his whiskey like he doesn't have a care in the world, watching you squirm and shudder as your slick drips onto the padded wooden chair. The red rope binding your forearms and knees to the arms of the chair is surprisingly soft, keeping you still without digging into your flesh while also making it impossible to close your legs. Steve is practically drooling over your dripping cunt, soaked from being forced to climax so many times.

The black rubber bar lodged between your teeth prevents you from making a clever retort so instead you just glare at him, shooting daggers with your eyes. He cocks his head and smiles at you with adoration that is inappropriate for the situation, before raising the hot pink remote so you can see it and making a show of pressing the bottom button.

You cry out from behind the gag as the rabbit vibrator buzzing in you at a higher intensity. Steve had bought one that also had a string of anal beads connected to it so it feels like it’s rattling you apart. Tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes as the pleasure begins to become painful. He’s made you cum so many times you’ve lost count, and you wish you could ask how many more times he planned to.

Steve’s eyes drink In your quivering cunt, relishing the way slick gushes from you every time he makes you cum. He forces an orgasm out of your body 3 more times before it happens. The build up to your last orgasm feels different, strange, like there’s an extra hint of pressure in your core. Slick gushes over the curve of your ass in such a grand amount you can hear it splash on the floor.

You squirted.

In front of Steve Kemp.

Your face burns red with embarrassment, unable to hide your face you opt to squeeze your eyes shut. The sound of shifting fabric snags your attention as Steve stands up and walks over to you, the sound of a button clicking echoes through the room as Steve turns off the torturous toy.

His warm fingers brush over your cheek as he tucks your hair behind your ear. He’s quick to undo the gag, slipping it from your mouth and gently placing it on the floor.

“See that wasn’t so bad” he says gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. “Didn’t you have fun my good girl?”

The words stick In your throat as you try to answer, nothing but an incoherent mumble comes out.

Steve grabs your face, pinching your cheeks as he forces you to look up at him. His eyes have gone cold and mouth is pressed in a stern line. “I expect an answer”

Your mouth feels weird as you try to speak. “Yes sir”

His eyes immediately soften as he smiles again. “Good girl. Now we can have some real fun”

Steve pulls the vibrator out of you, gently placing it besides the gag before he falls to his knees and looks up at you with a wicked smirk. He only gives you a moment before diving into your sloppy cunt.

And it feels…..amazing

After all the rough vibrations the gentle touch of his tongue has you moaning in ecstasy. He undoes the ropes holding your legs in place while he licks over your cunt, guiding your legs over his shoulders while he pressed his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs.

His tongue twirls around your clit making you cum with a cry of his name as you gush over his lips. He drinks all of it, purposely making the loudest slurping sounds he can. He looks up at you, slick shining off his chin, and gives your a devilish smirk. “God your so….juicy”

A weak laugh pushes its way through your lungs before you nod your head up. Steve takes the hint and stands up so he can lean over and kiss you. It’s a sweet slow and gentle kiss, even as he pushes his tongue into your mouth making you taste yourself.

He pulls back and presses his forehead to yours, blue eyes sparkling. Your still panting as you ask him. “How many more Steve?”

His sweet sincere smile turns deadly as his eyes sparkle with mischief. He kisses his way back down your body before steeling between your thighs. “Oh darling. I’m going to make you cum until you pass out”

[avintagekiss24]

it’s the freak in me i wanna show ya

the details;

steve kemp x black!reader.

10,317 words.

18+ ONLY, DARK FIC, smut, Dom/sub dynamics, BDSM dynamics/punishment, mentions of cannibalism, some fresh spoilers, manipulation, degradation, edging, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, squirting, free use, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female receiving), breeding kink, slight daddy kink, forced pregnancy.

notes from the author;

he’s a dark mf, but i love him your honor. this is probably really self indulgent but 🤷🏾‍♀️. please enjoy!

credits;

18+/consent banners by @maysdigitalarts / line divider by @firefly-graphics / prompts from here and here

i want to swallow you, have you melt into me and flow through my veins.

~ han kang the vegetarian

Your stomach is in knots. Tight and in your throat. It’s been upset for days, the food he’s brought for you going untouched. Sleep is scattered— an hour here, thirty minutes there, bad memories jarring you back awake as soon as you start to really settle in. Bad girl. The words taunting you, haunting you, rattling back and forth in your brain, reminding you. Trying to run from me, girl? You think anyone can hear you out here?

The chain connected to the leather handcuff around your wrist scrapes along the floor as you pace back and forth, eyes darting around the modern room. You can’t go far— not even to the door— that’s part of the punishment for being a bad girl. A shorter chain. You stop, eyes falling to the floor as your lips part slightly, just breathing as your battered brain does gymnastics. He loves you. Takes care of you. You had nothing before me. You were nothing…

Slowly, your eyes lift to the wall in front of you, a beachscape painted from wall to ceiling. You tilt your head a little, eyes moving along the wall, the orange sky, the blue waves crashing. You remember the ocean. The smell of the salt in the air, the wet sand between your toes. That’s all over now— 

No. no. Steve loves you. You can’t think that way anymore— this is what’s best for you. Haven’t I been good to you?

Of course he’s been good to you. You’re alive aren’t you? Eating three square, healthy meals a day and if you’re really good, your favorite dessert after dinner. He washes your hair with the special shampoo you like and need— braids it for you with satin bows when he wants you to feel pretty. The cute little dresses and the flowers. He loves you. You need to stop with all these dramatics. Your old life means nothing now. You have him. What else could you need but me, sweetheart?

It’s been a long three days. Lonely. He hasn't visited once. Just has someone, you’re not even sure it’s him because they make you turn and face the corner, drop off your food and plenty of water. The hands that place the blindfold over your eyes while they lead you to the bathroom surely don’t feel like his— too rough, both physically and in demeanor to be the hands of a doctor. That makes you sad. And nervous. He’s so mad he doesn’t even want to look at you, or have you look at him. 

It’s unnerving, his silence. 

Your face breaks at the thought. A sob chokes up in your throat as you drop your head into your hands. You fall onto the small bed in the floor and bring your knees into your chest, hugging them with your arms as you bury your face and cry. Hard. Loud. Almost as hard as you did the first night you woke up down here after spending the first weekend with him. It was different then— you were different. That girl is slowly dying, although, there’s still flashes of her every now and again. She���s what got you into the mess you’re in now. 

Now you’re crying because you miss him. You want him to be happy, you want to make him happy. He’s good to you. He loves you. That’s what he tells you over and over and over. I’m keeping you because I love you. You’ll soon come to understand that, bunny. You’ll love me too. Promise.

You roll over onto your side, pull your knees back up into your chest and let the sadness, the worry, the nervousness wash over you, your body shaking with the tears. You want to be a good girl for him, want him to be proud of you. 

What is wrong with you! Next time he comes in here, you need to— 

You squeeze your eyes shut harder. Cover your ears with your hands, “Stop it, stop it, stop it,” you whisper. You can’t think like this anymore, not if you want this to work, “Leave me alone.”

Wake up! You’re stronger than this! Try again… run!

There’s footsteps in the hallway, you don’t really hear them though. You’re so mixed up, not really sure what’s real and what’s not anymore. Exhaustion and body aches, sore muscles from the fight… it’s got you all hazy. Your brain is just so tired. So weary. There’s still a little fight in there, somewhere deep but as the days pass— the hours, the minutes— it grows weaker and weaker. Steve’s words sinking in further and further. You were nothing before me. You need me. 

There are hands on your shoulders, jarring you back into the present. You shrink back, scrambling into the corner of the room, covering your face with your hands again. Your screams sound so strange to you now, you’re not sure why.

“Shh, shh, shhh. You’re okay— you’re okay.”

The arms pull you close, bring you right into a chest. Lips hover by your ear as you struggle against this person, his arm wrapping over your chest, hand curling around your shoulder. Another hand covers your mouth as he pulls you closer, lips at the shell of your ear again, “Shh, bunny. Shh. Stop being so dramatic.”

That voice. It’s him, he’s back. “Steve?” you whimper, “Steve?”

“It’s me, it’s me.”

You turn in his arms, throwing your hands around his neck and hugging him hard, “Steve,” you start crying harder, your words all mushing and slurring together, “I’msosorry, ple—please forgive m-me. I-I-I’m s-sorry.”

He rubs your back slowly, tucking his chin over your shoulder for a second or two before pulling back and grabbing your face in his warm hands. Tilting your head up, he strokes your bottom lip with his thumb, blue eyes bouncing back and forth between your red, heavy, swollen brown ones. His lips are in a tight line, eyes serious as they scan your face. Then he sighs, real deep. Slow. Thumbs still sliding over your lips and then caressing your chin. 

“I wish I could believe you, baby.”

Panic instantly rises in your body, your chest tightening, stomach twisting even more at the words, “You c-c-can. I’m s-sorry, Steve. P-please.”

He continues to stare at you, eyes dipping to your lips then back up to your eyes as you cry in front of him. As you beg. He’s so hard to read when he gets like this and you can’t help but let the dread you feel take over. Your shoulders slump, your head falling as Steve pulls his hands away. Sobs rack your body as you cover your eyes with your swollen hands, the skin over your knuckles broken and bruised from your daring escape. 

Something in you just wants to make him happy. His forced training is starting to work after all. 

You feel Steve stand and move away from you, but you’re still underneath his hard stare. He sighs heavy and hard again as he shoves his hands into his pockets. Staring at the orange carpet, you force out a shaky breath, trying and failing to focus it, “Please don’t leave me down here. Not all by m-myself. I can’t— I can’t take it any-more.”

It’s so weak. You’re so weak. Just how he wants you— how he likes you. So he smirks. 

He loves to win.

Silence falls over the two of you for a long while, so long it gets uncomfortable for you. You’ve been thinking about this moment for three days— well, two and a half. You don’t remember much after he slammed your head back into the glass window. Bad girl. This wasn’t how you thought it’d go. 

“Are you going to hurt me now?”

Steve laughs, shaking his head, “I told you, I’m not going to hurt you. I like you. That’s why I’m keeping you, but—”

“ — Please don’t hurt—”

“I wasn’t finished speaking,” he cuts you off, his face going hard, the words even harder. You snap your mouth shut immediately, dropping your eyes back to the carpet, “I’m not going to hurt you. The only reason it got so nasty a few days ago was because you hit me first, remember?”

“Steve—”

“ —Aht.” He wags his finger, “You hit me first, right?”

You sink further into yourself, wanting to disappear right into the floor, “Yes.”

“And you still haven’t apologized.”

“You haven’t let me,” you whimper, “I haven’t seen you in three days.”

Steve nods slowly, crossing his arms over his chest, “So it’s my fault now?”

“No!” you shriek, “That’s not— that’s not what I meant.” 

He cocks his head to the side, “Then apologize to me. Nicely.”

You hold your arms out without hesitation, wanting him closer. He takes a few steps, right to the edge of your bed— right to where the chain around your wrist has no slack— and stops. Without a word, you pull yourself up, take the three or four steps it takes to get to him before you get up on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck again.

“Please forgive me,” you whisper, blinking your wet eyes furiously, staring back at that scenic beach painted on the walls, “Please Steve. You’re all I have.”

Steve keeps his hands in his pockets, but you feel his breath hitch in his chest as your words fall over him. And something in you stirs. Just that little slip up from him, the smallest of breaths, makes you feel a little better. He still cares. 

He still loves you, maybe. 

And that maybe is just what you need right now. 

He pulls away from you again, puts more distance between your bodies but grabs your cheeks, squeezing hard, “Are you gonna be good if I let you shower?” you nod, “Words. I need to trust you.”

“Yes. I promise.”

“Promise?”

You nod again, this time, more convincingly, “Yes. I promise.”

Steve searches your eyes for a few seconds more, still reading you, still wanting to be assured that you won’t try any shit again because if you do— then he’ll have to hurt you. And he doesn’t want to do that. He sweeps his fingers over your forehead, moving away your curly hair, brushing the tips over the cut just over your left eye. You wince, the salt of his fingers stinging the fresh wound and he shrinks back.

“Don’t make me hurt you, and I won’t. Got it?” He asks soft, “Turn around, lemme see the back of your head.”

You turn in his hands and let him push your thick hair apart, peeling it away until he gets to your scalp, eyeing his handiwork, “The stitches look good. You’ll be healed up in no time. Now, go shower. I’ll wait for you by the door.”

You whip around, eyes going wide as your mouth falls open in genuine surprise, “You’re not going to shower with me?”

“You don’t deserve that yet.” he answers quickly, grabbing your wrist and turning it over in his hand before grabbing the key from his left pocket. The metal chain falls to the ground with a thud once he pops the lock, making you jump slightly, “Go. Now.”

Your stomach falls to your feet. He’s still so disappointed. 

You’re starting to really hate that.

—

You wrap the fluffy white towel around your torso as you step out of the shower. It’s amazing what a hot shower can do for your mood. It’s not super high, but you feel better than what you did twenty minutes ago. Cleaner. Physically anyway. You pop open the door to find Steve leaning against the wall, a white box tied with a red ribbon in his hands. 

“See how much I love you, honey? Even when you’re mean to me I buy you presents.”

A smile cracks onto your face, “For me?”

“All for you,” he smiles, handing it to you, “Look at that pretty smile. That’s what I like to see. Open it up.”

You untie the box slowly, Steve taking the lid from you once it’s free of the ribbon, his eyes on you intently as he pull out the soft, blue satin dress, “Steve,” you let out a breath as a warmth spreads through your body, “It’s, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“You like it?”

“Of course I do,” you reach for him, hugging him tight again, “Thank you so much.”

He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a small jar of your favorite body creme, “I pay attention, don’t I?”

You nod again, unable to wipe the smile from your face, “Yes. Thank you.”

With a tap on your hip, he tips his head toward your room, silently telling you to hurry. And hurry you do. Steve keeps his eyes on you the entire time, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall as you smooth the lotion over your skin. Arms, chest, stomach, legs, back, your spirits lifting ever so slightly again. 

“Are there any panties with this? A bra?” You ask, turning slightly to glance at him over your shoulder.

Steve shakes his head, pushing away from the wall, “Nope.” He moves towards you, taking the dress from your hands to bunch it up, “Arms up.”

Turning towards him, a little bashful underneath his strong gaze, you lift your arms up, ducking your head some as he slides the smooth material over your body. He picks at it, pulls gently to get it sitting just right on your body before he steps back and looks you over. He reaches out, grabs one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger to give it a little playful squeeze, “I love these, you know.” he smiles wide, “Maybe one day we’ll get them pierced, hmm?”

He chuckles when you grab his hand and lift it to cover your face. He slips again, pulling you in close to pepper your forehead with a kiss or two, “Silly girl. Come, I’m hungry.”

Steve offers his hand and you greedily take it, lacing your fingers with his, bringing the back of his hand to your lips. You kiss the front of his hand, once, twice, three times, just to reassure him that you aren’t going to do what you did last time. That girl is gone. 

I’m still here, bitch. You need to run. Now.

Well, she’s almost gone. You swallow hard and grip Steve’s hand harder as the two of you walk side by side, down the long corridor towards the kitchen. There’s a slight breeze as you walk— the light curtain blowing soft in the wind seeping in from the broken window. You cut your eyes towards the wall, the random piece of art that used to hang there now sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. A few shards of glass from the frame still littering the hardwood floor. 

Steve tightens his grip. 

The two of you push past the living room. A new lamp sits in the place of the old one you launched at his head just days before. Your feet start to sting as you move, all cut up from running through broken glass and rocks and twigs once you made it outside. It was stupid; you were stupid. 

“I just want to take care of you!” you heard him scream as you ducked behind a tree, your heart pounding, “You fuckin’ bitch— I’m sorry! I’m fuckin— get back here!”

Once at the threshold of the kitchen, Steve whips you around his body, sending you deeper into the room, spinning on the balls of your feet. You laugh a little— maybe he’s lightening up. When you come to a stop, you turn to face him, your bottom lip between your teeth, a warmth spreading through your skin. You’re a little dizzy, so… light between the sleep deprivation you’ve forced on yourself and not eating for days on end. 

You find him smiling softly. Head tilted a little, a dreamy look in his eyes. This is the first time you notice how nice he looks tonight. A black button down shirt tucked into gray slacks. Black dress shoes. His dark hair is parted and combed— not the usual fingers through it once or twice. He dressed up for you. That makes you smile harder, fuller. 

Don’t let him win. This isn’t right and you know it. Be strong.

Your head ticks slightly. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up! 

Steve smiles at you bigger too and your stomach does a little flip. He’s so handsome— but within the blink of an eye, literally, his smile is gone. His eyes and lips hard again, as he crosses his arms over his chest again. He pushes his chin forward, tips his head back, his lids low over his eyes so he can glare down at you through his lashes, “Take your dress off.”

You swallow hard, “W-what?”

“You heard me. Take it off.”

The sharpness of his tone cuts you to the quick, sending a chill through you. You don’t dare take your eyes off of him as fear ripples through your body, but your fingers scratch at your thighs, bunching the material in your hands. Slowly, you pull the dress upward, over your head. Nerves fill you again as you stand stark naked in front of him, gripping the dress tight in your hands, butterflies, the nervous kind, fluttering in your stomach. Your heartbeat in your ears. 

The sound of his shoes clicking against the floor floods your senses as you blink furiously at him, your mouth falling open as he steps right up to you. Towering over you. He pulls the dress from your hands and takes a deep breath, filling his nose with your scent before he speaks, “You’re going to make my dinner. Then you’re going to sit by my side and watch me eat— and if you’re a really good girl and ask nicely, I might let you lick my plate when I’m done, understand?” 

Tears fill your eyes as you nod, a single hot stray slipping down your cheek. He grabs your chin again, pushing your face up towards his, “Use your words.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

A sob slips out quick, but you swallow the one behind it that threatens to follow, “Yes, I understand.”

He grabs your face in his hands again, his thumbs sweeping underneath your eyes to wipe away the wetness, “Good girls don’t cry, okay? I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. It hurts me that you still don’t trust me.”

You reach for his hands, wrapping your fingers around his wrists, holding on tight, “I trust you, I do. You’re just so mad at me.” You cry soft, dipping your head and nuzzling into his big palm.

“Oh, sweetie,” he purrs, “It’s all gonna be okay, you just have to learn to be a good girl.” Steve bops your nose with his index finger, punctuating his words, “Bad girls get eaten, and I don’t want to eat you and I certainly don’t want to sell you off to my clients,” he smiles again, kinda sinister, “This body’s too perfect to cut up.”

You smile at the compliment, “You think so?”

“Oh baby, I’m a plastic surgeon, I know so. Women pay for bodies like yours every day, you’re so lucky.” The warmth is back. Spreading like lava from the tips of your toes to the very top of your head, “But you’re going to have to learn the hard way.” He leans in real close again, his lips at your ear, “This is what punishment looks like, darling,” he whispers, “Hands, please.”

Your eyes go sad again but, you lift your hands gently, push them out and watch as he slips the brown leather cuffs over your hands and locks them up with the key. The chain between them is longer than the usual one, so you can cook and such. You’ve fucked up five months of training, of trust, but maybe you’ll work back up to walking around freely. Maybe.

Then he’s gone, back facing you as he disappears back into the living room. The radio starts seconds later, something kind of slow and old. Something you haven’t heard since you were a kid. In the car with your mom, your window down. The sun shining, wind whipping you in the face as you hum.

So raise your hands to heaven and pray

That we’ll be back together someday

You’re on autopilot now. Moving towards the fridge, opening the door to reveal the neatly arranged refrigerator. Green kale, yellow squash, black cherries, brown eggs. White milk poured from the original carton into a crystal pitcher. Red meat. Neatly packaged and labeled with the cleanest handwriting you’ve ever seen for a doctor. You pick up the saran wrapped foam tray, fingers trembling as you bring it eye level. Three letters written in black sharpie. Noa. 

You’re surprised at what floods through you as you read the name over and over again. Jealousy. He’s told you about her many times— never let the two of you see each other though. He told you how he thought she was different too. His two pretty girls. Anger flashes through you at the thought of her being in this kitchen, cooking for Steve and vice versa. Fucking Steve. Bathing with Steve. 

You slam the door and turn on your heel. 

Spaghetti and meatballs it is. 

—

The song has changed a few times. Something upbeat plays now, West End Girls by Pet Shop Boys. This one you know well. Steve made his way back into the kitchen a song ago, humming and singing loudly, even dancing as he moves around you, plucking silverware and random utensils from the drawers to set the table. Snaps his fingers to the beat as he rolls his hips softly while standing in front of his wine cabinet, contemplating on which red to enjoy this evening. 

Your spaghetti sauce bubbles in the pot as you stir it slowly, sprinkling in the fresh garlic and onion. After a dash of salt, you lift the wooden spoon to your lips, tasting the sauce and humming happily to yourself when the flavors explode on your tongue. 

Eyes are on you again. The small hairs on your naked body standing on end after you start to become aware of the constant gaze again. You swallow, kinda hard, but keep your attention on the sauce, turning down the flame so you can start to form the meatballs. Clicks of expensive shoes against hardwood fills the kitchen and then there’s a chest crushed against your back. A nose in your hair, taking in another deep breath of your expensive shampoo. Warm fingers slither around your naked sides, gripping the meat of your body before pushing around to your stomach, grabbing more of you. 

Another hand cups your right tit, squeezing hard, finding your nipple to roll it slowly. With his nose still in your hair, he sways you back and forth with him to the music. Hums along with it as the hand around your waist slips further down, fingers pushing between your folds, stroking gently. He releases your tit to stretch his arm over your chest and wrap his fingers over your shoulder as he takes another step into you, rubbing his cock against your ass. 

You slam your eyes closed, a hum whirring in the back of your throat as your body starts to react to his touch. Slippery and wet in no time, the sound of your slick filling your ears when he pushes two fingers inside. You moan, throwing both hands outward to grip the edge of the counter.

A large palm cups your chin, fingers digging into your cheek as he yanks your head upward, “Toys don’t make noise, slut.” he growls into your ear, tone low and threatening, “This is for me, not you. Understand? Nothing tonight, or any night in the near future, is for you. Not until I say so.”

His fingers keep fucking into you. Real quick pushes. But his fingers don’t leave your body, no, he keeps them inside of you the entire time. His palm keeping a steady pressure against your clit.  A thigh, Steve’s thigh, pushes between your legs to get them to open just as he drags that wet tongue back up along your neck, right to the back of your ear.

“Tell me when you’re about to come— and don’t burn my sauce.”

Only then does he pull his fingers from you, just to stroke your clit with his thumb. Your shaky arms return to stirring your tomato sauce, swallowing hard again as you check the flame, turning it even lower. Steve peeks at you over your shoulder, a small smile on his face as he watches you struggle, his fingers rubbing slow circles against you. Finding your nipples again with his free hand, knowing how sensitive they are and how much you like him to play with them. 

“That meat isn’t going to cook itself,” he warns. 

You nod quickly, wiping at your forehead with the back of your hand. 

Little pangs of electricity start to bounce through you. Stomach going tight and then relaxing, hips bucking ever so soft as Steve starts to hit that little spot. Right when it starts to feel good. You rip into the saran wrap with two fingers and grab a chunk of the meat. It’s soft between your hands, freshly ground no doubt. 

You roll it gently between your palms, grabbing just a little more to make a bigger meatball before you reach for some oil. It sizzles when you pour it into the pan, the oil. Pops with the heat. Your chest tightens suddenly, a deeper pang rippling through you as Steve flattens his fingers, thrashes them faster back and forth, back and forth, back and forth against your clit. You bare down and sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep quiet as your hips roll into his hand. Jesus. 

Two meatballs, three, four, five, six. Number seven and then eight until the foam tray is empty. You plop them one by one into the hot oil, a faster, angrier sizzle filling the kitchen as the song changes again. 

“Ooh,” Steve laughs, snapping his fingers, “C’est La Vie, I love this song.”

It’s all a jumbled mess to you. The music, his voice. Your heart is in your throat as your vision tunnels to the meatballs and sauce, trying to stay present. Not give in to the feeling pooling in your belly. The cool air from the air conditioning makes everything worse. Goosebumps pop up along your skin from the heat of the stove, the heat of your arousal spreading through you, and then the sudden whoosh of the cold. Steve can feel it. Knows your body pretty well after all this time. So his fingers start moving faster over your clit, teeth nibbling on your earlobe before they bite down into your shoulder. 

Your hips jerk forward, your head falling back on his shoulder real quick before you throw it back forward. You’re stark still for a second, two, three. Eyes slammed closed, hands gripping the counter and the wooden spoon for dear life. The ripples are coming faster now, one not fully washed away before the second is rolling through. Sweat pops up on your brow. Breath hitches in your chest as it builds. Higher, faster as you force air out between your teeth. 

A low hum slips out, vibrates in your throat as your eyes flutter. Your clit stings from the constant contact, jumps once or twice at the onslaught. It’s so close you can taste it. Lurking just below the surface, a minute more and you’ll be a howling, squirting mess. That’s okay, baby. I like a squirter. 

“I’m gonna come,” you force out between heavy panting, “S-Steve, I’m g-gonna come.”

And just like that. All the pressure, the touching, his chest crammed to your back, hard cock rubbing. It’s all gone. You find the energy to push the meatball around the pan before leaning forward, resting your palms on the counter as your hot, wet cunt throbs— begs for a release. Steve sucks his fingers clean behind you, loudly, with a little pop as he pulls them from his mouth and wipes them dry on your thigh. 

There’s no praise. No sweet epithets or words of encouragement for doing the right thing and telling him you were about to come. No. There’s just a slap on the ass before he throws his arm around your neck, catching your chin in the crook of his arm, “I own you. This cunt,” he grabs your sex, cups it real hard, “I own this filthy little cunt, got it? You are mine to do with what I please.” he falls silent, blinking at the side of your face a few times, “Good girl or bad girl, you’re mine.”

His fingers start rubbing again, real slow, slipping along your clit and teasing your opening, “How much longer until dinner’s ready?”

“Um,” you stutter, “Uh, I just uh,” you shut your eyes again quick, humming soft, “I just gotta cook the noodles. Not long.”

“Enough time for me to use you?”

Your brown eyes pop open. Chest still rising and falling hard as the sound of his belt buckle being undone stuffs your ears, “Yes.” It’s simple, your answer. Quick and quiet, “Just let me get the water boiling.”

He allows you to slip out from between him and the counter, over to the sink. Shaky hands hold the glass measuring cup underneath the stream of water before pouring it into the pan. Purposed steps carry you back to the stove, Steve still standing there, watching every move you make as you set the pot on the back burner and turn the knob, igniting the flame underneath it. You add a dash of salt to help it boil and then you both just wait. Stand there, staring at it. Almost willing it to start bubbling. 

Once the water is dancing, bubbling soft, there’s movement behind you again. The sound of his belt sliding against the material of his slacks, in and out of each loop. The pop of a button, the slow zip of his zipper coming down. All the while you reach for the box of spaghetti noodles, breaking it open and dumping them into the water. 

Warm hands are on your hips. Guiding you over a step or two before fingers slide up your spine and slip over your shoulder. He lifts your leg. Bends it at the knee and places it on the counter before bending you forward. Another round of shivers ripple down your spine and throughout your body as his warm cockhead pushes through your sticky folds. Then he’s pushing, just at your opening. He grabs the back of your neck, squeezes, as he pushes inside so easy.

“What a fucking whore,” he muses, letting out a deep breath, “This is all—” he grunts low as he slips all the way in, his stomach flat against your ass, “ —all you’re good for—” sucks a gulp of air in through his teeth before pushing it out real slow, “ —this is all bad girls are good for, understand?”

You nod again. Quickly. Keeping your bottom lip between your teeth as you take him. He fills you up good. Deep. And you’re so ready, needy and wet, hot and swollen. Extra sensitive to his fingers playing with your clit again. But you don’t dare make a sound, nope. Not one. You just knaw on your lip as you bounce off of Steve’s stomach, your nipples grazing the marble countertop with each pass, adding to the sensation of it all.

“This fuckhole,” he pants, his hands moving back down to grip your waist, “This dirty little needy hole was made for me and only me. You know that deep down, don’t you— ah, fuck.”

It’s getting unbearable. You’re hot all over, tingly, sweaty. The urge to reach between your legs and rub your clit, to tease that little nub until it spasms, until your walls are clamping about Steve’s cock so you can milk him… it’s… hard to ignore. You have to ball your fists to physically stop yourself. Slow breaths, in and out, in and out. This isn’t for you. 

Steve yanks you up suddenly, crushing his chest into your back, craning your head towards the ceiling, a fist full of your hair. Teeth are on your skin again. Nipping and biting as he fucks into you. Fingers finding your tits again, groping and squeezing, tweaking thick nipples until you're grinding your teeth, trying to keep quiet— trying to be a good girl. 

You’re convinced Steve can read your mind. Months of his training is working both ways. He snakes his long arm down your body, real slow, between your tits, down your soft belly, right until his fingers are hovering above your sex— the tips just barely touching your clit. He keeps them there, just there, to tease you more. His pounding hips thrusting you forward, pushing you into the smallest, sweetest, delicate little touch from the pads of his fingers against your tingly clit. And with it comes the pangs in your stomach, the electric charges racing through your veins. 

You curl your lips to speak his name, to let him know you’re about to come again but there’s no need. Steve grips your waist, hard, his nails digging into the meat of your sides. His octave raises just a hair, his grunts louder, hips losing control of their smooth delivery. He slams into you one last time and just holds there for a second, cock rooted deep as he starts to spurt.

He starts fucking into you again, ribbon after ribbon of silk filling you up as he releases. You flatten your palms on the countertop to hold your weight, letting your mouth fall open and silently counting to ten to keep the mere sound of him coming from making you come all over him. The chain between the leather handcuffs slapping against the wooden cabinets below.

After he’s done, milked, his heavy head falls to your shoulder, lips grazing your shoulder blade, “Whew,” he mutters before pushing out a quick breath and shaking his head, “Mmm.”

He pulls out of you and stumbles back into the island, leaving a string of cum and slick hanging from your cunt. You swallow hard again, tilting your head towards the ceiling, blinking as you focus your breaths. Then, you pick up the wooden spoon. Stir the cooking pasta— albeit with a shaky hand. Check the sauce to make sure it’s not burning.

Like a good girl.

There’s no more talking between the two of you as you finish up his dinner. Steve cleans himself up and moves back towards the kitchen table, leaving you a mess while plating his food. Cum dribbles from your cunt. Slips down the inside of your thigh, strings of your slick hanging between your swollen, hot folds. It’s degrading, the whole scene. You, bare naked, him fully dressed. Cum dripping from your used cunt as he just sits there, all dressed up and clean, watching you approach with his spaghetti. 

You set his plate in front of him, leave again for just a moment to slice into the fresh loaf of French bread, butter them up and bring him two slices. Pour his wine.

Steve smiles up at you, “Thank you, bunny,” he says, picking up his knife and fork. Then he just points, down at the floor by his side. 

You fall to your knees. Scootch a little closer to his side. 

“Aht, aht,” he tisks gently, spinning his plate to get it just right before picking up his fork and knife. He taps on the table, “I wanna be in your mouth while I eat.” You stare at him with wide eyes, lips parting a little as he slices into a meatball and pops it into his mouth.

Your eyes drift down his side and to his lap, his pants still splayed open from his use of you in the kitchen. You can’t help but blink back up at him as he sits there, spinning his fork looped with spaghetti into his spoon. He keeps his eyes straight forward, as if you aren’t even there, as he takes another bite. Chewing slow. Exhaling happily. The song in the background changes again— something slower. Richard Marx maybe? 

Next thing you know, you’re crawling. Underneath the table, propping up on your knees again in front of him. The clinks and scrapes of his silverware against the plate sound from above, the soft click of his wine glass connecting with the tabletop after he takes a sip. 

Your fingers take over, skipping up his thighs and to his open fly, warmth finding warmth. Steve doesn’t skip a beat when you pull him from his boxers, still semi hard, veins just barely pressing against the delicate, thin skin. You open up and take him in. Just like that. Pushing forward, so close now that his knees press into your shoulders. 

It takes a minute for you to adjust. Find the right position that’s comfortable. The awkwardness of what to do with your hands fading as you just rest them in your lap. You blink steadily as he takes up the space in your mouth and flattens your tongue to the bottom of your mouth. It’s strange, just having his cock there, without sucking, licking, spitting, slobbering on it. You raise your eyes a bit, just to his chest, focus on the soft inhales and exhales he takes. The silverware on the plate, the wine glass lifting and clicking back down, him moaning a little as he devours the meal you’ve prepared. Almost as if he’s completely unaware that his cock is in your mouth and that he’s eating a woman. 

Something in you, somewhere deep, starts to stir. Warmth blooms in your belly, across your flesh as you start to go all slick again. There’s something intimate about this. About the degradation of it. You could curl your tongue around him right now. Really form your lips around his cock and get him all hard and ready again. Lick him to his mushroom head, and then pull him all the way inside again. Right until he’s at the back of your throat. You could use your hands— grip his thighs, dig your nails in. Hold that little waist of his as you suck him off while he eats. 

Maybe he wouldn’t even acknowledge it. Just keep eating, keep humming right along to the song as he pushes his bread around the plate, sopping up the rest of your sauce and whatever’s left of Noa. Yeah. Something deep starts to stir.

Or maybe he’d be angry. Maybe he’d yank you up from your place on the floor, grab you up in his big hands, tell you how bad of a girl you are— how you just don’t learn. Then he’d throw you on the table. Spread your legs real wide and run his fingers through your folds. Push them in real slow, tease your asshole with his thumb. Without warning, he’d just slam into you, a hand against the back of your head, pinning you down. Using you like the little doll you are. 

A moan escapes at the thought of it and you feel Steve hitches just a bit. The vibration of your little noise sending a tremor up his spine and right to his balls. He even jumps a little in your mouth. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. 

You’re a mess again. All wet and drippy, stomach tight. You adjust and then readjust under the table, thighs starting to burn. Steve likes to savor each and every one of his meals, you see. There’s a clattering of his utensils onto the plate, the slurp of the last drop of wine being swallowed and then he just pushes away from the table. Out of your mouth. You fall forward and catch yourself with your hands. The fantasy in your head dissolves like a sugar cube in water. 

Turning your head, you watch him move into the kitchen, pour another glass of wine. He washes his plate. Pops back into the fridge and starts pulling things out, “You’re a lucky girl,” he calls, “A very, very lucky girl. Come, sit.”

You crawl out, move to the bar, slide into the seat as something starts to sizzle in the pan in front of him. A lobster tail.

“Ah, no, I don’t do meat,” you smiled back at him in that dim little bar, “Pescatarian.”

You feel his eyes on you again and pull yours up, blink quick, “A very lucky girl, indeed.” He smiles.

—

Steve watches you eat, pushes you to finish it all— the lobster, the little bit of pasta that was left over now doused with olive oil and a little basil, the small side salad. Makes you drink a full glass of water— gotta replenish your fluids, baby. 

“Good girl,” he smiles when you finish the glass, “Now, I want you to wash your dishes, one by one.”

“Ok—”

“ — I’m not finished,” he warns, his tone making you snap your lips shut again, “Between each dish, I want you to touch yourself, but you don’t get to come, understand?”

You swallow hard. Blink nervously back at him, before dropping your head, “O-okay. Yes.”

Steve reaches out, catches your chin with his knuckles and tilts your head back up. His thumb caresses your chin as his eyes bounce back and forth between yours, “You were a bad girl and this is how bad girls get treated.” You nod, try and drop your head again but he yanks it back into place, squeezes your cheeks, “I trusted you and you disappointed me, remember?”

Tears cloud your eyes as you nod again, “I remember, I’m sorry—”

“ — shh, shh, shh, don’t cry,” he whispers, “Just do as I say.”

He drops your chin from his hand. Leans back into his chair and rests his arm over the back of the stool. Cocks his head. That’s your cue. 

You draw your right leg up first, flattening your foot on the seat of the barstool. Then the other, spreading yourself open, putting your used cunt on full display. Shaky fingers find your clit, your soft touch rather calming as your nerves and anxiety starts to peak again. It won’t take long, you’re so worked up and ready after being teased and touched and denied for the evening. You start rubbing anyway, electricity sparking in your stomach instantly. 

Pat, pat, pat, your fingers flat against your clit as you slap at yourself before rubbing again, slick coating your digits. Your tits bounce and jiggle as your hand gets faster, the feeling building hard and quick. You cup your left tit, pull on your nipple as your hips push forward into your thrashing hand— up and down, back and forth, flesh hot and sticky and swollen.

Steve’s trusting you to get this right. The very thought makes you moan. You want to make him happy, gain his trust back so you push further. Push yourself right to the brink. Right to where you can feel your heart in the back of your throat. Right to where your release is rippling up and down your spine. Right to where the synapses are snapping so quick, so hard that there’s no time for the feeling to recede, another wave of electricity rolling in on top of the other.

You’re moaning and gasping, the filthy sound of your wet cunt filling the kitchen, hips pushing and pulling and when it’s right there— right where one more thrash, rub, slap would pluck you like a ripe fruit— you stop. You let your head fall back and your mouth hang as you drag in deep breaths, humming low while you exhale, trying to bring yourself back down. Your two feet hit the floor and you stand— with help, having to brace your still handcuffed hands on the counter to steady yourself. Two blue eyes follow you around the counter and to the sink.

It continues like that for every utensil you used for dinner. Plate, fork, knife, cup, bowl. You’re trembling now, hot all over, needy, achy— confused. Your mind is spinning, blurry, fuzzy. The heat, the wet between your legs, the sting. Those eyes. Unwavering. Just staring at you as you hold your hands underneath the warm stream of water, trying to finish cleaning this stupid bowl. 

A sob chokes up in your throat, honestly catching you by surprise. The bowl in your hands clanks against the sink when you drop it, your hands flying to your mouth and face so you can hide. You’re sobbing, all six months of this hell culminating into this moment and spilling over. 

“I ca-can’t do this,” you sob, the words barely discernible, “I’m sor-sorry, i’m— i’m so confused— i’m so,” 

A warmth wraps around you within seconds. Arms, a chest, lips. A soft murmur in your ear. You’re lifted right off of your feet, your legs pulled around his waist, a large palm cradling the back of your head while the other slips up and down your naked back. You wrap your suddenly heavy arms around his neck and bury your face into him, let him carry you away. Down another hallway. Into a room— his room. 

A softness then surrounds you, a comforter and pillows. They smell like him. It’s nice. Steve disappears into the bathroom, leaving you all alone in this big bed… the door cracked. 

Now’s your chance! Run!

“I’m sorry, bunny,” you turn your head towards his voice wafting from the bathroom, “I pushed too hard tonight, didn’t I?”

You blink, your eyes stinging and puffy, and then he’s there, leaning against the door frame. Greedy eyes skip down his bare frame. Smooth, bare skin. Abs. Little black boxer briefs hugging his small waist… and that nagging voice, the last little bit of fight you had left, sinks away. 

“I don’t,” he sighs before rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I don’t like doing this to you, but you make me. You know that right? You make me do these things.”

You just start to cry harder.

Steve pushes away from the door frame, keeping his eyes on you as he saunters towards the bed and lays next to you. He cradles your cheek in his palm again, his thumb pushing back and forth over your lips as he blinks back at you. Then he kisses you, real soft. Slow. It makes your eyes flutter all stupid. He rolls on top of you, his weight pinning you to the mattress as his tongue pushes into your mouth, massages yours, licks at the roof. 

You feel like a feather as Steve works his way down your body. His lips and mouth nipping at your skin, licking, kissing down, down, down. Between your breasts, down your stomach as he spreads your legs with his knees. He sits up, up on his knees and tilts his head again as he looks down at you, a soft smile on his face.

“This is what it’s about you know,” he says soft, running his fingers between your tits, “It’s about giving.”

Steve grabs your bound hands and pulls them toward him, resting them over his heart. You sit up, your eyes wide as you blink at him.

“It’s about giving yourself over to somebody. Becoming one with somebody else, forever and that’s…” Steve drops his head, his eyes following your hands as they slide down his sides and dip into his boxers. A sharp breath pulls through his teeth when your lips meet his stomach, right above the band of his boxers as you start to pull them down, “That’s a beautiful thing.”

He cups your face in his hands and kisses you again, “That’s surrender,” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours he’s so close, “That’s love.”

You nod, all stupid and naive, batting your big eyes and breathing heavy, “I understand.”

Steve kisses you again, deep and slow, his tongue sliding along the roof of your mouth. He grabs your top lip between his and sucks real soft, “Do you love me, bunny?” He whispers.

A hum vibrates in your throat, through your chest that’s now rising and falling harder and faster. He’s so hot and cold, you’re angry and scared but so needy and clingy all wrapped up into one. You want all of his attention, but none of it at all. You want to go home but when you have the chance to run, you stay.

You want to hate him. Hate his hands around your neck, his lips on your skin… but your cunt aches for him now. Tightens around nothing but the thoughts of him moving down that corridor for you in the middle of the night. Wets with the longing for his fingers in your mouth. Clenches for those filthy names that roll off his tongue. 

You have to blink away from him. The tears are filling your eyes again and god, you don’t want to disappoint him again. It’s just so confusing. 

Steve laughs at the sight of your internal struggle. It’s low, rumbles through his chest, but he’s so delighted, “Aw honey,” he purrs as his thumbs sweep underneath your eyes, wiping away the wetness, “Honey, honey, honey, it’s okay— it’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”

The words still don’t come. They’re stuck between your mind and throat somewhere. Maybe the fight isn’t all the way dead yet.

“I know what you need,” Steve nods slow before he bops your nose with his finger. 

He lays you back, his big hand cupping the back of your head all the way until it meets the pillow. Then he’s crawling over you. Knocking your knees apart with his so he can muzzle in between. Collects your legs with his hands, throws them over his shoulders as he flattens his body against the mattress. You gasp when he drags the tip of his nose along your stomach, from hip to hip, his lips snagging your skin at random intervals. 

“Look at you,” he whispers after kissing the inside of your thigh, “You’re so,” he kisses you again, this time a little lower, closer to your swollen sex, “Wet for me.”

You draw your legs together around his head as he punctuates his words with his fingers— slipping three of them all the way in, “God, you always take me so easy, sweetheart.”

Steve’s wet tongue joins the party before you’re even ready for it, your brain already turning to mush from just his fingers. It slips through your folds as he pumps his fingers slowly and flicks against your achy clit before he sucks the nub into his mouth. Your hips push into his face, a long, breathy moan escaping your mouth as you finally start to get a little pleasure after the past few days. 

His fingers curl inside to stroke your wet, soft walls. He leans back a little, disconnecting his face from your pussy with a smack to watch his thick fingers go in and out, his thumb taking the place of his tongue and lips on your clit. Steel eyes skipping up to your face as he puckers his lips, blowing warm air against sticky skin. Warm, wet lips find your thigh again. Steve presses one, two, three, four sloppy kisses before his teeth snag your skin— a quick nip before he sits up and drags you down to the edge of the bed. 

On his knees, he grabs your right leg and throws it over his shoulder while hooking his arm under your left, his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. You push up onto your elbows to watch as he buries his face in your cunt again, shaking his head back and forth, smacking on you loud. He starts flicking his tongue again as your hips roll. Pushes his three fingers back in and jams them harder and faster. 

Your head falls back as you squeak from the pressure building in your stomach. Your hips take on a rhythm of their own, bucking into Steve’s face as you pull yourself up, cupping his head in your palm. He hums against your skin to send vibrations through you, sending your octave higher and higher. You start pulling at your nipple, rolling it gently as you bite down into your bottom lip. Curse words and hisses fall from your mouth as the coil inside starts to unravel with every lick, every suck, every jab of his fingers. 

Strained thighs start to shake from the tension building in your body. You’re a moaning mess; your hips almost uncontrollable as his tongue starts sneaking inside your slit, right along with his fingers. Steve’s making a meal of you all the while, smacking loud, shaking his head back and forth, leaving back just long enough to slap your pussy with his wet fingers before rubbing your clit and plunging back into you with them. 

You gasp when his tongue travels to your taint and circles your rim, causing your hips to snap again. He’s lapping at your cunt within seconds, pushing that sneaky tongue down to your taint and asshole every so often, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of your collapse.

“Fuck, Steve,” you breathe, letting your head fall again, “I’m gonna cum, baby— I’m gonna—” just as you're about to give into it— the electricity, the rushing pressure— you freeze. Your fuzzy brain sharpening in an instant. 

You’re unsure of what to do. 

He hasn’t… told you what to do yet. 

You try and relax— pull it back by releasing a slow, steady breath between your teeth. This is a test. He’s testing you. If you weren’t sure before, you certainly are now that those eyes are on you again, his fingers slowing just a tad, his lips still wrapped around your clit. He pushes his fingers deep, keeps them there real still for a second or two before he curls them again and just starts stroking your insides. Quick and repeatedly against the same little spot. All the while, staring up at you as he sucks on your sweet little nub. 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip again, hips pushing hard into his face before you can stop them, “I’m, mmph, I’m close. Ca-can I cum this time?”

“Mmm,” he groans, pulling away from your pussy, chin and mouth wet and shiny as he flips his eyes down to your puffy cunt, “Ask me nic—”

“—Please? Can I cum this time, Steve? Pleaseplease?”

He chuckles at your eagerness, “What a good girl you are. Yes bunny, you can cum this time.”

Your heart soars at the news. Steve slaps your clit again before diving back in, flattening his tongue against your slit, the tip just catching the edge of your little hole. He’s moaning against you as he sucks your clit back into his mouth, shaking his head back and further with fervor. You cradle the top of his head with your hand again and finally give yourself permission to relax, to give all the way in. That you deserve this after being a bad girl. 

Within minutes, you’re soaring again, like Icarus against the sun. You’re panting, squirming, writhing, hips snapping against his tongue and lips and mouth. When it snaps, that little, hot coil that’s buried deep inside, it’s heavenly. Your hips snap one last time and stay there, thighs shaking, the soft meat of your belly jiggling as your clit jumps with each convulsion of your pussy. 

Steve jumps back as you start to squirt, puckering his lips as he exhales and continues to pound into you, clearly very pleased, “That’s right, baby,” he eggs on, slapping at your clit with his free hand, “That’s right, this little filthy hole is all mine, isn’t it? You sweet thing, you.”

It splats against the carpet, gushing like a geyser as you finally get to release all this pent up emotion. Your hips jerk with each wave, each squirt until your limbs turn to liquid. You fall back against the mattress, unable to hold yourself up any longer, your body jerking with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You can’t catch your breath fast enough as you drag in air. 

“You’re so pathetic it’s adorable, you know that?” Steve pipes up after a minute or two, now standing at the side of the bed, his hard cock in his hand. He strokes himself slowly, from base to tip, rolling his palm over his red cockhead, “I could smell it on you that night at the grocery store. I just knew I had to have you.”

Just seeing him there, fucking himself with his hand, his tits and biceps flexing with each stroke, his breath just barely hitching, eyelids fluttering just a tad— makes you clench. You blink at him with wide eyes before dropping them to his cock in his hand, a little moan sneaking through. You are pathetic. You want him. You hate him. You need him. You want to kill him. 

You want him.

Everywhere. In your mouth, in your hands, in your soaked cunt and tight ass. You’d almost beg. 

Steve holds out his hand to you. His head cocked, a barely there smile painted on his lips as he blinks at you. You slide your small hand into his and let him pull you off the bed, turn you in his hands so his chest is crushed against your back. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, rubbing his nose along your shoulder as he presses his lips against your shoulder blade. Strong, soft hands travel down your body, groping your stomach and thighs as he drags his nose up your neck and into your hair, breathing you in.

Then he’s bending you forward, just a bit. Hard cock pushing through your folds and along your clit as he grabs a handful of your ass in his hands. He keeps sliding himself against you, using your slick to coat his cock until his tip just catches on your hole. But he doesn’t push any further. Doesn’t force his way in. He just waits. Waits for you to reach behind and grab him, stroke him a few times before you guide him back towards your opening and push back against him, your mouth falling open as he fills the void. 

He grabs your arms and forces them behind you, folding them up against the small of your back. Then, and only then, does he start to move. Your skin slaps against his as you bounce off his cock and stomach, your eyes fluttering, mouth falling open. You’re still sensitive, just minutes post-orgasm, so every stroke, every snap of his hips hits that deep, used tight spot, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. He reaches over your shoulder and grabs your bouncing tit, squeezes hard before he starts prodding at your tight nipple. Rolling it, pulling on it, squeezing and tweaking it. 

Steve’s a quiet lover when he’s in the midst of it. Always was, but when he does sound, every so often, it sends you high. Steve’s a picky man and he likes how you feel. Loves how you fit him like a glove. How warm and wet and soft your insides are. How your body closes around him, clenches him tight. He grabs your hips again, holds them tight as he fucks into you, deep, steady, calm strokes.

He untangles your arms and pulls one of them back, lets it rest on his hip before he grabs your shoulder. You hang on to him— dig your fingers into his flesh, the top of his ass— and he groans a bit, just as your nails bite into his skin. The notion makes your body clench; your walls instinctively clamping around him. 

“Mmm,” he groans, picking up his pace, “I told you, this little hole is mine” he murmurs, “See how you react to daddy’s cock? Huh? You’ve been begging for daddy’s cock for days, haven’t you?”

You can’t even answer. Cock drunk, your head hangs, tits bouncing, nothing but little squeaks and moans and whimpers, a few curse words slipping through. 

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, reaching down your body again, his fingers prodding at your clit, “Such a dumb little whore begging for daddy’s cock.”

You rest your hands, your still chained hands on the bed and close your eyes as you start to float again. Your body going all fuzzy, brain nothing but static as the warmth spreads through your veins. Steve’s hips start to go a little wayward. He starts to lose the smooth strokes. They get a little harder and haphazard, the rhythm of them gone. He palms your ass again and you get a little louder, your stomach tightening as the rope starts to uncoil slowly. 

Steve grabs you shoulder suddenly— hard, his nails digging into your skin. Then he exhales, real quick at first, real shaky before a long, low moan rumbles through his chest and throat. He slams into you one, two more times, grabbing your hips and pushing deep and hard. You feel his cock jump, damn near think you feel his veins pulse inside of you and at the first shot of cum, you lose it again. Cumming around him as he fills you with his silk, ribbon after hot ribbon. 

Your fingers find your convulsing clit, thrash against it as you ride the high, each little synapse firing off a pang of electricity. You’re squirting again, not quite as much as before, but just as hard. It feels good taking him like this. Like a needy little cumslut, wanting each and every spurt, every ounce and drop of his hot cum. He starts to fuck into you again, pumping, pumping, pumping each jet of his spunk real deep and you’re just greedy enough to clench your muscles, to keep it all inside. 

Cock dizzy and full of warmth, you smile. All the heaviness you’ve been carrying around since you tried to run is all gone. The thoughts, the screams telling you to go, to run, all gone as his heavy, tight balls slap against you. You’re a mess again, but now so is Steve, his thighs and balls, lower stomach and the thick, dark, wiry hair all wet from your slick and your squirt. Steve levels a few slaps against your ass and you giggle abruptly, wiggling your ass as he finally pulls out and slaps his slippery cock on your asscheek. 

He pulls you up and spins you around to face him with one quick motion, kissing you hard, shoving his tongue in deep. You take it all. Kiss him back just as hard and moan into him, his lips and mouth still tangy from tasting your cunt— but you like how you taste on him. 

Steve lays you down and curls around you, playing with the ends of your hair before pushing his hand down your chest. You’re a happy little mess, smiling and humming at his touch, the cold chain of your bound hands laying across your stomach. He splays his hand across your tummy and holds it there, his eyes on the side of your face. 

“That should do the trick, huh?”

You hum again, turning your head to nuzzle against his nose as sleep starts to invade, “Mmm, what do you mean?”

Steve pulls away just long enough to grab his phone from the dresser before he starts fumbling with it and places his hand back on your stomach, “You’re ovulating, yeah? Yeah, you started thirteen days ago.” Your eyes pop open at the words, just in time to catch him turn the phone towards you, the fertility tracker filling your vision.

He smiles wide and then kisses your cheek, “That should do the trick.”