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shadeysprings · 7 months

Text

YOU

—Art Collector!Steve Kemp x F!Reader

Summary — Your unexpected meeting with the famous art collector takes a dark turn when you learn the secret of his private collection.

Warnings — oral (female receiving), dismembered bodies, disrespect to the dead, entrapment, plots of killing, serial killer vibes, Steve being a calm psycho. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.

Word Count — 5.4K

A/N — Story #1 for my FREAKtober Fest. The fic was heavily inspired by the movie itself and House of Wax. I'm happy to finally explore Steve's character in writing and I must say, I enjoyed every bit of it. The title was taken from the song You.

Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp

Shout out to @vellicore and @sgt-seabass for bouncing ideas with me and being my beta.

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

They didn’t come.

It was all you could think about as almost 2 hours had passed since your grad show started. Despite your parents’ — mostly your mom’s — disapproval of pursuing an arts program, you still invited them to the show. You hoped that if they saw what you were truly doing, they would understand your passion for paints and charcoal.

But it was a long shot, and you knew that. Though at least you tried…right?

You envy your classmates who carry bouquets while they present their artwork to their families and strangers alike. You were lucky enough to have a few come by your cubicle, delighted to explain the medium and process of your work. Some seemed genuinely intrigued while others, you can tell, only came by and endured your talk for the free stickers you offered at the end of your spiels.

Another hour passes by and you look up front when you hear an announcement being made by your instructor; a class photo. You’re reluctant to join, seeing no value in such a thing to be done as it’s obvious that once the day ends, they will be strangers once again. But another adamant call from your instructor has you heading to the front, a frown forming on your face when you’re pushed at the back, towered by your classmates—unseen once more.

As parents and several others grab the opportunity to take a photo, your eyes suddenly divert back to your cubicle when you see someone looking over at your main art piece. You can’t put a pin on his face but you know you’ve seen him before.

Once the group photo has ended, you immediately head back to your spot, catching the familiar stranger taking one of your stickers as well as a business card that sits beside it. It’s when you finally recognize him—and you’re in utter shock that he would be looking at your work. He finally notices you, a smile on his face as he holds out his hand.

“Hi.” He begins, “I’m—”

“You’re Steve Kemp.” You finish for him, the confidence you suddenly displayed startling the both of you. But you push on when you see a smile of amusement on his face, taking his hand to shake. “You’re the famous art collector.” You wouldn’t have known it was him with how dressed down he looked with the corduroy jacket and navy jeans, but you’ve seen his face several times in art articles that you wouldn’t miss it.

“I wouldn’t say I’m famous.” He humbles himself but he lacks the conviction to make it believable. “I think I’m just skilled in finding pretty things—like this one.” He gestures towards your charcoal painting, the look of interest evident on his face. “What compelled you to incorporate a whale and an astronaut? What’s the story behind it?”

His question makes you smile. Maybe he is interested, you think to yourself and look towards your artwork before diving deep into your answer.

“The artwork was inspired by the 52 Hertz Whale.” You begin. “Just to give you a little background; out of all the whale species, it’s the only one that makes a call with such a distinct pitch. Researchers had guessed that it could be a hybrid of two whale species but any attempts to search for the creature for further study have failed. Though some have been saying that it’s not a whale but an entirely different animal.

“Loneliness was the main theme of the piece—just like the whale, if it truly exists, it is alone in the vast sea; with no family to call its own and with it being different from the others, no one would listen or understand their cries. Akin to the lonely astronaut floating in the endless void of space. Though the flowers and the seagull represent hope and freedom—that one day, everything they thought to be true would change, that someone is there to listen and welcome them in their arms.”

You feel yourself shiver and your heart race as you end your interpretation. How the art piece truly mirrors your life and your cry for recognition from the people who truly matter. You try your best not to shed the tears that well in your eyes, presenting the collector with a smile and hoping he sees it as passion and confidence.

But the look on his face startles you; there’s no judgment but you see a hint of amusement in his sapphire eyes. You think he’s about to say something, to comment on what you said, instead, he looks back at the artwork, seemingly appraising it.

“How much?” The question stuns you. Did you hear correctly?

“I’m sorry?”

“I want to buy your art piece.” He expounds. “How much are you selling it for?”

That’s the last thing you expected to be asked in a college grad show. Was he seriously wanting to purchase it? You try to answer, to tell him that you’re not really looking for buyers nor expecting to sell any of your work but no words come out of your mouth, still taken aback by his surprising inquiry.

“I don’t—” You stutter. “I’m not really—”

The chuckle he makes has you pulling on the cuffs of your oversized flannel, feeling slightly anxious at the thought that he’s making fun of your state of shock. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He says with a smile, one that you mimic if only to ease the tension building within you. “But I am serious. I do want to buy it.”

Still, you don’t know what to say. Do you just give him an amount and call it a day?

“Why don’t you sit on it? Let’s say two days and I can give you a call for your price.” He holds up your business card between two fingers, the smile on his face turning into a playful smirk. “What do you say?”

Under-dressed.

Not that it was a concern you realistically should have but the patrons of the bar made you feel as such with the men clad in suit jackets and the women, either in dresses or whatever you call the style of attire that was classier than your hoodie-jeans-sneakers combo. At least you brought a coat—that’s fancy enough, right?

You nurse your Bellini cocktail and thumb through your phone while waiting for Steve, popping your conversation thread with him every second or two just to assure yourself that he confirmed, or rather, planned the night of drinks to discuss your “Lonely Whale” piece as he coined it. It seemed odd at first but his determination was what compelled you to agree to meet him.

The hiss of the straw fills your ears as you suck the last dregs of your drink. You shouldn’t have come early, you tell yourself, then you wouldn’t need to order another glass to accompany you on your wait.

“Need a top-up?” A familiar voice from behind startles you and you look up to see Steve, decorated in a maroon wool sweater and that tantalizing smile he seems to always have. “I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad coming here to this part of town.” He says as he takes a seat beside you in the booth.

You scoot over to give him room, surprised that he didn’t take the one across from you. “Please, don’t be sorry. I wasn’t waiting long.” You assure him with a soft smile, tapping a finger on the rim of your glass. “The drink kept me company.”

“Are they any good?” He asks but he’s already called the attention of a server before you can even reply. He orders a Bloody Mary—quite peculiar, you think, but you’re not one to judge someone's preference. “And the lady will have another, please.”

Silence envelops the both of you as you wait for the drinks to arrive, feeling shy and anxious when he rests his arm against the back of the booth and turns in his seat to face you. You’re not used to being seen yet here’s this man, well-known in the field you didn’t think to excel in giving you such unwarranted attention.

“Uhmm, so I asked my instructor about the painting,” you begin as you try to break the ice, “and he said that—” but stop when he shakes his head and lets out a gentle laugh.

You think he’s playing at your lack of knowledge of these types of transactions that it makes you second-guess your words. Maybe you should have come off more confident and prevented showing him an inkling of your cluelessness. But the smile he sends your way speaks of something different. There is no presence of ill-intent yet you still keep your guard up.

“We can talk business later. I’d like to get to know the artist more first.” He says and for some reason, it could be how comfortable he seems to be around you, that you nod at his request, a soft smile forming on your lips.

“Well, what do you want to know?”

Giggling.

It’s been a while since you’ve done it but you guess after 4 glasses of the Bellini and a sip of his Bloody Mary, anyone would be in a lighter and more carefree mood. Just like how you are.

The anxiety that filled you when you first walked into the bar seems non-existent with how well Steve carries a conversation. He listened to you complain and laughed at your sarcastic comments, throwing back another to keep the exchange alive. There was no dull moment to be recorded, only understanding when you shared the struggle of an art student living in a fast-paced environment. He’s probably the first person in your life who knows almost everything there is to know about you and even if he is a total stranger, he feels more familiar than any other.

The night rolls by quicker than you’d hoped and the next thing you know you’re in his car, the alcohol messing with you as you begin belting out garbled lyrics to an Adele song. You’ve never felt so free and relaxed, and who would have thought you’d find it in someone who simply wants to buy your art project?

You arrive shortly at your apartment building, a curious thought passing through your head as you don’t recall typing in your address in the GPS. But it goes just as quickly as it came when the passenger door is opened and Steve holds out a hand to help you out.

He says your name, the syllables rolling like honey on his tongue and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the way the moon shines against his face, but you truly notice how his sapphire eyes glow brighter with how close he stands to you, his cologne permeating your senses and his warmth mixing with yours, keeping away the cold autumn breeze of the night that surrounds the both of you.

“I had a lovely evening.” He breathes, allowing him to take your hand in his. “And I don’t want it to end just yet.”

And it doesn’t.

You invite Steve into your apartment for coffee, something to help completely sober him up and drive home safe. But as soon as you close the door and toe off your shoes, his hands are on your face and his lips capture yours, a soft grunt escaping you when he presses you against the door. You’re too stunned to process that he’s kissing you, only finally realizing it when he breaks the kiss and looks at you with his eyes so blue.

You think he’s about to speak, to apologize for his forwardness, but instead he smiles while his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. You don’t understand what he sees in you to warrant such soft affection, or to even consider you as someone to kiss.

He leans closer once more, this time you sense the apprehension in his movements and with the way his eyes linger on your face. You shut your brain off completely, not wanting reason and rationality to stop whatever force that was pulling you together. So you meet him halfway, hands resting against his chest when you press your lips against his, a moan escaping you as when you feel him pull you further into the kiss.

To say he was a good kisser was an understatement with the way his wet muscle caressed your own and how his lips wrestle you into a passionate exchange. He chuckles when he bumps against a side table while walking backwards, blindly into the living room, hands pawing at each other, groping, touching, and you lift up his sweater as the desire to feel his skin blooms in your head.

But he doesn’t give you that chance as you drop back onto your loveseat couch, Steve’s hands pushing up your hoodie to expose the tank top hidden within. His fingers tickle your skin, teasing, taunting, and in one swift move he pulls down the cups of your bra having your tits spill out from them.

Mewls and moans are the only sounds that leave your lips, coherent words nonexistent with how his lips wrap around a mound, sucking, licking, and dampening the fabric to expose your stiff nipples which he gives his undivided attention to. You try to reach for him, to at least make sure that this is all real and not a dream, but his hands take yours, preventing you from even running your finger through his dark hair, the act only heightening your senses further.

But his venture to your breasts eventually stops and you look down at him when he trails butterfly kisses against your stomach, hands releasing yours only to undo the button and fly of your jeans. The garment flies but your panties stay, and you swear you could almost combust just from the way he looks at you—his eyes swirling with hunger, eagerness, and desperation for a taste.

Slowly, he trails kisses against your inner thighs, lips, and teeth meeting skin, not hard enough to hurt but enough to feel. The nervousness swirls around you like twine, making your heart beat loudly against your chest as everything feels too new, too alien, despite this no longer being your first. But you’ve never encountered anyone as captivating as Steve and you feel as if he would run away once he sees you completely.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers into the air, his warm breath grazing against your heated core.

It’s only then you comprehend what he’s done, your panties pushed to the side to expose you completely before him and all at once you feel your body burn when he laves his tongue against your pussy lips, gentle at first, testing the waters which shift to intent as he pushes them apart with his fingers, your sacred bud caressed by his expert tongue.

You whisper his name as he begins delving into your pussy, strong hands keeping your thighs apart and pushing them down against the couch with his groans of pleasure filling your ears and fueling your desire for him. You reach down to run your fingers through his hair which you end up grabbing as a gasp is pulled from your lungs when he begins to suck your clit.

The room feels like it's spinning with the ecstasy that climbs higher within your body, your senses no longer feeling like your own as Steve pushes on with his pursuit, his mouth dancing beautifully against your clit, his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. But he stops, and a small wave of panic arises in your chest. Though it washes away like footprints on the sand when he ventures lower, his thumb taking purchase of your clit, rolling and adding pressure while his mouth ventures lower, teasing your slit at first before slowly pushing inside.

Oh, how your body sings. Your back arches from the coach and you call out his name, louder this time, turning into a moaning mess as his regard to your cunt never wavers. You then feel the dam filling up at the pit of your stomach and all you can do is buck your hips against his mouth, encouraging—no—pushing him to pull you over the edge.

“Steve—” It’s all you manage to say, your breath catching in your throat.

His actions then become erratic, as if he can feel you teetering towards your peak, pulling you more to his mouth and devouring you whole. Sloppy, wet sounds of his mouth echo from below your waist, Steve letting out a low and guttural growl which only sets you ablaze. His thumb pushes more onto your clit, the pressure digging into your pelvis and finally having the dam at the pit of your abdomen burst.

Your body shakes and you grab onto Steve as your pussy walls flutter from your release, choking a sob as your sweet essence flows out of you. His awaiting mouth then laps each and every drop you offer, the sensation making you shiver yet at the same time cocoons you in euphoric bliss.

The alcohol in your system then appears, mixing with the pleasure that continues to loom around you, and your eyes begin to droop, a smile forming on your lips. Your limbs ache deliciously, cunt buzzing from the orgasm that has taken over. You feel tired all of a sudden but happy at the same time and you forget all, even Steve, as you’re ready to end the night with such a good note.

But a tap on your thigh pulls you from the serene moment, startling slightly to see Steve looking down at you with a grin painted on his face. “Stay awake, Baby.” He says, his hand running up your side and grabbing the hem of your hoodie. “I’m not yet done with you.”

Nervous.

It’s all you feel as you stand outside of Steve’s home—if you could even call it that. With the modern exterior and floor-to-ceiling windows of the one-story home, you’d think you’re about to enter a museum. But it’s only reasonable for him to have such a lavish abode; he is an art collector after all.

“You okay?” You turn your head to the side to face him when he stands beside you, his warmth brushing against your skin as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close.

“A bit—but more excited really.” You tell him, the giddiness of seeing his private collection dominating the restlessness you felt earlier.

“Only the people who matter have seen it.” The smile he gives you is so contagious that you give one back and follow him inside his home.

After the night spent at your apartment, your life slowly revolved around Steve. Mornings begin and nights end with him and his attentiveness—one that you found more endearing than suffocating, as what some people you assume would say if they knew of your relationship.

You don’t even know if you both have a relationship as neither of you discussed anything about labels, simply enjoying each other’s company. But you know that Steve has rooted himself deep in you, and you know that no matter how hard you try if anything comes that would sever you both, you’d have a hard time letting him go. Steve is the only one who has truly seen you and accepted you as you are.

A chill brushes your skin when you pass through the threshold of his home which has you pulling your knitted jacket more around your frame for warmth, and the first thing you see are the gallery lights mounted on the wall, with each one shining down on art pieces of different forms. The ones that stand by the door are wax figures of a woman’s pair of legs, one on each side. You look at it closely, the craftsmanship so intricate that you’d think it was real. The ones that come after it are different sets of arms and hands of women, again, each one posed differently and elegantly, as if welcoming you further down the hall.

It gives you pause with how unusual of a collection it is—women’s body parts—but you suppose that the world of art is filled with oddities. There was even one you heard who collects glass eyeballs, not caring if it was worn or not.

What greets you next are several paintings—if you can even call it as such—that litter the wall just the same, though you’ve never seen anything like it; one is of a canvas that houses different strands of hair that form into waves. You’re in awe with how they mimic the raging seas and how detailed and time consuming it must have been to complete. There’s even an image of a boat topped over it, as you inspect closely, you assume is made of leather.

There’s another like it, though this seemed more like a showcase of all types of tresses, spaced out perfectly in rows of five. Each one portrayed a distinct person, with colors ranging from blonde to black and textures from curly to the straightest you’ve seen. The urge to touch it grows strong, wanting to check if they’re real or not.

“They’re real,” Steve answers your unspoken question, and you turn back to face him, feeling shy all of a sudden when you see him staring at you. “I call it live art.”

“You made this?”

“Oh, no.” He smiles as he nears the artwork, Steve’s hands tucked inside his pockets while he looks up at it. “I had it made. Though I did provide the materials—volunteers donated the hair.” His explanation has you thinking; you never knew people would donate something so personal for art. “I’m hoping to add more to the collection—a prized one that can be my center of attention.” He says and you catch him looking at you from your periphery.

“What kind of prized piece?” You ask, curiosity nipping at the back of your head.

“Something I could never get tired of looking at.” The smile he gives you sends a chill up your spine but your mind flows out into a daze when he steps forward and takes your face between his hands, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. “Like you.” He whispers and you can’t help but feel your face heat up with how beautiful he makes you feel.

“Come on. There’s more in the living room and I wanted to show you where I would place your painting.” He says, giving you one last kiss before taking your hand and leading further inside. But you don’t miss the piece that sits just at the end of the hall; a torso of a woman, the composition almost similar to Alexndros’ Venus de Milo, except this one was missing its head.

The living room is a sunken living room and it’s just as exquisite as the front of the house with paintings and figurines scattered in an organized fashion. Two couches sit on either side of a low table with a small cart that holds an array of spirits. You look around, mesmerized at the beauty he keeps within but stop when you notice a small greek style column sitting in the corner of the room.

“What’s that?” You ask, pointing at the unusual fixture.

“That’s just a chair a friend of mine made.” He responds while pouring the both of you some drinks. “It’s pretty cozy even if it’s made out of stone. Why don’t you try it out? Pretend you’re an art piece.” He urges and the giddiness you feel allows you to humor him.

Soft jazz music then begins to play as you run your hand against the top, having a feel of the material before you take a seat, grabbing onto the sides to properly set yourself on top of it. The smile you catch on Steve’s face is wide as he approaches you and hands you your drink, his hand reaching up to caress your face.

“You look perfect on it.” He sips on his drink and so do you.

You can’t help but look at his eyes, how soft they look yet full of amidst the muted lighting that surrounds the both of you. You feel his hands continue to linger on your skin, resting gently on your shoulder with his thumb caressing the expanse of your neck.

“Dance with me.”

It’s all he says and you don’t have time to respond when he takes the glass from your grasp, setting both of them on the shelf that stands nearby and he reaches for you, his hands taking yours and placing them over his shoulders while his own finds purchase around your waist.

It feels like you’re walking on clouds with how he sways the both of you, his movements in sync with the music that fills the air. He holds you close, feeling his fingers drumming lightly on your back and how your feet follow him aimlessly, blindly with each step he makes. You’re suddenly aware of the intimacy that slowly winds the both of you, much different from the times he’s slept on your bed, and you feel shy, eyes casting down to stare at the edge of his navy turtleneck.

“Don’t hide from me, Baby,” He breathes softly, tilting your head back when he pinches your chin and feeling the warmth of his breath ghost against your lips. “I want to see you.”

Giddy.

It’s the only feeling you describe as soon as you wake up, your body sore but in a good way and the sheets atop the mattress warm, not just because of you but from the man that sleeps soundly at your side. You turn to face Steve and examine his face, his beautiful pointed nose and his dark hair askew from the pillow underneath his head.

You couldn’t believe your luck that someone like him would find interest in someone like you. You must have done something good in your previous life to feel such happiness that the neglect and disapproval you once received from the people you expected to love you is being provided by someone you’ve barely known for a week.

Good things come to an end, you hear the pessimist in you say but you push it down, deep down where you cannot hear its cry. You’re going to enjoy this, whatever this is, and if time comes that it should indeed come to a stop—well, you’ll cross the bridge when you get there.

You move to cuddle closer to Steve, wanting to feel more of his warmth but it’s interrupted by your need for relief that you settle on placing a kiss on his forehead before turning to leave the bed and find the restroom.

Washing your hands when you finish, you find a robe hanging at the back of the door and boldly take it, putting it around you to shield you from the cold that continues to circulate within the house and venture back to his room—back to Steve’s arms. Except the lone light that shines in the darkness catches your eyes and you glance towards the bedroom. You don’t want to be caught snooping but the call of the void is too strong for you to ignore.

Silently, you pad down the hall and find yourself face to face with a staircase that leads to a closed door. Must be the basement, you think to yourself, taking one step at a time, you descend to your destination. You hesitate to hold the knob, not wanting to spoil your welcome but you soldier on, pushing through the barrier.

A row of yellow muted light illuminates the entryway, and you see nothing but several black barrels neatly pushed against the wall and a few scrubs hanging from mounted hooks. You thought you would see more artwork but are left disappointed, deciding to turn back but the white light at the end of the room stops you, curiosity once more taking over your senses.

Fear then grips you tight when you step into the light, hands flying to your mouth and a gasp unwillingly escaping you when you see a woman laid down on a metal table with her lower half missing and her head free of her scalp. What hangs on the wall makes your stomach turn even further, body parts—arms, legs and a severed head coated in something you can only assume to be wax.

You run. Your heart beats hard against your chest as you make it back again to the door and close it as quietly as you can, not wanting to awaken your host—a monster you never thought him to be. Carefully, though quickly, you climb the steps and the only thing you could think of is to leave and run as far as you can where he cannot find you.

Relief slowly washes over you when you get to the last step. Now all you have to do is go—call the authorities and—your thoughts take a dive when you feel someone grab you by the waist, trapping your arms along with it and a hand covering over your mouth as well as your nose.

“Where were you, Baby?” Steve’s calm voice forms from behind and your panic only rises further. You struggle against his hold, flailing as much as you can for him to let you go but he’s too strong and you feel the tears spill from your eyes as you think that this is the end. He’s caught you. You’re going to die.

“You never should have seen that.” He simply says and you grunt when a stabbing pain forms on your neck, a cool sensation flowing through your veins.

It’s then that he lets you go, your hand flying to where you felt the sting before turning to look at him. What did he do to you? You notice the syringe in his hand. Is it poison? Your vision almost instantly goes blurry, your limbs heavy and you drop to the floor, eyes cast to the ceiling as you try to make out your current state. The last thing you see is Steve, a sinister smile on his face and incoherent words coming from his lips before everything goes dark.

You’re dead.

It’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you come to. Everything slowly comes into clarity; the room you’re in is somewhere you’ve not been and the cool metal you feel around your ankle only solidifies the fact that he’s successfully trapped you in the hell he dwells in.

A door opens and closes and you curl up small on the bed you lay in to hide yourself from him. You’re crying once again a multitude of emotions surge from within—is it fear? Hopelessness? Anger? Towards him for lying to you or to yourself for believing him.

“I never wanted you to find out this way.” He sighs. “I never wanted you to find out at all.”

“Are you going to kill me?” You can’t help but ask, even though you know what the answer is.

“Not yet.” His calm in his voice brings a chill to your spine. “Despite what you believe, I meant what I said; you matter to—”

“Stop lying to me!” You shout and sit up from the bed, grabbing the pillow on the bed and throwing it at him. “Why are you doing this?! What did I do to deserve this?! Why me?!” You shout, the anger that was settling in your bones turns into a raging fire. You go to lunge for him, wanting to rip his skin with your bare hands but the cuff on your foot stops you, making you fall to the ground in front of him.

He tuts and you see his leather shoes in front of you. A groan then leaves your tongue when he grabs you by your face, your hand taking hold of his wrist as you try to pull away from him. But he only pinches tighter, making you shout in pain that fades all too quickly when he shakes you and makes you face him dead in the eyes.

“The more you fight, the harder it’ll be.” He snips. “I enjoy you a lot—don’t make me kill you so soon.”

“Just fucking do it!” You spit. “Do it! Kill me now!”

The laugh he gives you is menacing. He shakes his head, his other hand moving to run his finger on the side of your face. You see the darkness swirling around the sapphires of his eyes and you question yourself why, for the many times he’s stared at you, you’ve never seen it before.

“Soon.” He promises. “For now, I’ll keep you. I don’t mind that column being empty just a little longer.”

#steve kemp #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x f!reader #dark steve kemp #dark!steve kemp #you #fresh #fresh the movie #sebastian stan characters #dark fic #horror fic #beanie's freaktober fest #freaktober fest #shadeysprings fics

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thebluemage · 4 months

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#sebastian stan #steve kemp #fresh movie #fresh the movie #behind the scenes

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hopeful-romantic1994 · 5 months

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Sebastian Stan as Steve Kemp in “Fresh” (2022)

#sebastian stan #steve kemp #fresh the movie #fresh 2022

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inkedreverie · 9 months

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𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒔

pairing: vampire!steve kemp x human!female reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k +

warnings: blood kink, mentions of blood, blood drinking, p in v sex, porn without a plot. soft sex that turns rough, overstimulation. implied sub/dom dynamics. 18+ content.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve comes home late and hungry for you.

a/n: i've had this in my drafts for a while and i'm finally posting it! this was my first time writing for steve so as always, please be kind!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | Read on AO3

Y/N remembers the first time Steve fed from her.

The wave of pain that rushed through her veins, followed by a wave an induced euphoria, was an all-time high she'd never really experienced before. He was very patient with her, reassuring her it wouldn't be as bad as she thought it'd be.

Steve was the opposite of what anyone would assume a vampire would be. He wasn't greedy and didn't use any persuasion on her. Y/N had been enamored by him ever since she found out his secret, so it was no surprise to Steve that she'd be so willing. After he was done, he pecked her cheek and whispered, "Good girl. You think you can do that again for me?" Y/N nodded in response.

Today, when evening rolled around, Steve plops down on the leather couch, arms sprawled across the edge of the loveseat. Despite being incapable of getting tired, work had been extremely stressful today. He'd been booked solid with multiple surgeries, and he had to do it all with a fake smile while ignoring the temptation to go snatch a blood bag or two. He'd been waiting for this moment with her, and so had she.

His lips form into a small grin as he hears her enter the room, finger curling and beckoning her over to him. "Come here, baby girl. I need you."

Y/N giggled when she saw him lounging on the couch. As he beckoned her over, she ran toward the couch in the living room before straddling his lap. "God, I missed you baby." she sighed, her lips immediately finding his as she kissed him softly. She was only wearing a graphic t-shirt, which only reached the top of her thighs. The hem of her shirt rose slightly as she moved against his lap.

Steve's hunger was a raging fire, demanding to be quenched as Y/N straddled his lap, her soft lips meeting his in a passionate kiss. He reciprocated eagerly, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer to him. As he deepened the kiss, the taste of her intoxicated him.

Breaking the kiss, he smirked up at her, his dark eyes filled with hunger and desire. "Mmm, you have no idea how delicious you look, babe," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. His hands trailed up her bare thighs, gripping her hips firmly as he felt the hem of her shirt rise. He loved the way she teased him, the way she indulged in her own desires, knowing how it drove him wild.

His lips trailed down her neck, nipping and sucking on her sensitive skin, leaving teasing marks. His hands moved to graze over her ass, squeezing it firmly before giving it a playful smack. "You've been a naughty girl, haven't you? Touching yourself while I was away," he growled, his voice laced with possessiveness and desire. He wanted to devour her in every possible way, to take her to new heights of pleasure.

Steve's hunger and desire were reaching their peak, but he had more in mind than just feeding. He wanted to satisfy all their cravings. "Tell me, baby. Are you ready to be filled... in more ways than one?" he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful promise.

Her eyes shot open when he squeezed her bottom, a smirk tugging at her lips when he smacked it. "Mmm. Have I?" she asked with a playful, teasing tone. "How would you know?" Her eyes drifted to his lips, craving more of him already. She leaned in, pressing her forehead against his own. "Yes. I'm more than ready, Steve. I know you're hungry for me," she purred, her finger running down his chest.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as her finger trailed over the fabric of his hospital scrubs, reigniting his hunger and desire. "Oh, trust me, baby, I always know," he replied, his voice dripping with authority and desire. The hunger within him consumed him, but he wanted to savor this moment, to truly relish in the pleasure they were about to experience.

With a swift motion, he lifted her off his lap and carried her toward the nearby staircase, placing her down gently on the first step, her back pressing against the wooden steps. His eyes bore into hers, the hunger and passion swirling within them like a tempestuous storm. He slowly lowered himself down, his lips grazing over her collarbone, his tongue dancing along her skin.

"Tonight, I will indulge in your every want and need," he whispered seductively against her ear, his fingers tracing teasing patterns along her thighs. His grip tightened slightly, a hint of his strength showing, as he parted her legs and settled between them. His hands trailed upward, his fingertips lightly brushing against her clit, his touch tantalizingly soft.

Steve's mouth captured hers in a deep, demanding kiss as his fingers began to explore her wet, aching cunt. His tongue skillfully danced with hers, their mouths locked in a heated battle. His fingers dipped lower, sliding easily between her slit, exploring her folds with expert precision. He teased her entrance, dipping a single digit inside before withdrawing, teasing her relentlessly.

While his hands pleasured her, his fangs grazed over her neck, his lips occasionally brushing against her skin, threatening to sink into her flesh. He wanted to taste her, to feed on her in the most intimate way possible. But for now, he wanted to push her to the brink of desire, to make her beg for release.

As his fingers worked their magic, he felt her walls clenching around them, a testament to her growing arousal. He knew she was ready, and with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with a low growl of satisfaction. "Mmm, you taste exquisite, Y/N," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. "But now, it's time for me to satisfy my own hunger."

When he pulled away, his fangs now grazing over her pulse point once more, her breath hitched. Her nipples hardened underneath the thin fabric of her shirt as his fingers glided in and out of her, teasing her soaked center. "Steve, please. I need you." she whimpers, grabbing hold of his shoulder for support, her breathing growing heavy by the minute.

"Don't tease me..." she begged, trailing her hand down his arm, her inner walls now clenching around nothing.

Steve's eyes darkened with desire as she pleaded for him, her voice filled with need and desperation. Her body was aching to be filled, and he intended to grant her wishes soon, but not before he indulged in his own desires.

He couldn't resist her pout, the way her lips formed that irresistible shape. Chuckling lowly, he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers once again, devouring her in a hungry and possessive kiss. His hand traveled down her body, slipping under her shirt and teasingly grazing over her hardened nipples. He toyed with them, rolling them between his fingers, eliciting moans of pleasure from her.

But he couldn't ignore the pulsating hunger within him any longer. Redirecting his attention, he trailed kisses down her neck, his fangs gently nipping at her skin, leaving small marks in their wake. The scent of her arousal filled the air, intoxicating him with its sweetness. His tongue teasingly licking and sucking on her supple skin. He could practically feel her pulse, tempting him even more.

His fangs extended, sinking into her flesh as her essence pooled into his mouth. The crimson liquid coated his lips, causing him to hum in satisfaction. Her blood always tasted so sweet when she was like this, her desire urging him on. His palm squeezed her breast harder, relishing in the sound of her breathless moans.

That familiar wave of euphoria crashed over her, pain mixing in with the pleasure as he continued to drink from her.

His fingers found their way back to her throbbing core, this time plunging deep inside her without hesitation. He relished in the slickness, the warmth of her tight walls gripping his fingers, urging him further. His thumb circled her swollen clit, applying just enough pressure to send waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

With a growl of satisfaction, he withdrew his fingers once again, leaving her wanting and empty. He needed to taste her, to feel her on his tongue. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against her inner thigh, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive flesh. His tongue teased the tender skin, drawing closer and closer to her dripping wetness.

But he couldn't resist the temptation any longer. Resisting the urge to prolong the moment further, he finally buried his face between her legs, his tongue expertly finding her clit. He flicked, licked, and sucked on the sensitive bud, his hands gripping her thighs to hold her in place. The sounds of her moans and whimpers fueled his desire, and he devoured her with an insatiable hunger.

As he continued his assault, he could feel her walls clenching around his tongue, her body trembling with pleasure. But he wanted more. Pulling away slightly, he looked up at her with a primal hunger burning in his eyes.

"I want to hear you beg, Y/N. Beg for me to fuck you. Beg for me to fill you completely," he growled, his voice thick with desire. The power and control he held over her at this moment only fueled his own desire, the game of dominance and submission intensifying the heat between them.

She arched her back as he continued to please her between her thighs, her legs beginning to shake as his tongue flicked over her clit. When he finally pulled away, her breath was heavy, practically panting, her elbows propping her up on the stairs. "Please, Steve. I need you so badly. I need you inside me." she pleaded, her voice soft like honey.

Steve's primal instincts took over as he listened to her plea, her words echoing through his mind like a sweet melody. The hunger within him burned hotter, the need to possess her consuming his every thought. With a predatory glint in his eyes, he rose from his position on the stairs, his body towering over hers.

He wasted no time in shedding his clothes, the small space between them now filled with the sound of fabric hitting the floor. His muscular body glistened with a sheen of sweat, his hardened cock throbbing with anticipation.

Taking her by surprise, Steve swiftly lifted her from the ground, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist. In a flurry of motion, he pinned her against the wall, using the surface as leverage to spread her legs wide. The position provided easy access for him to slide in, his thick length aching to plunge inside her, to claim her as his own.

"Is this what you want, baby girl?" he breathed, his voice rough with lust.

Y/N nodded, her hands resting on his shoulders as she looked up at him. "Yes. Please, Steve?" she whispered, hoping he'd give it all without hesitation or reservation.

In an instant, Steve's lips crashed down onto hers roughly as he lined his cock up to her dripping core and plunged in. The mix of emotions that flashed across her face was confusing but exhilarating; fear mixed with excitement blended together until they felt almost natural. So many feelings were displayed as she tried to adjust to his size.

As Steve bottomed out, her hips jerked forward, the sensation of his massive girth stretching her nearly bringing her to the edge of climax. Her fingers sank further into his skin, bracing herself as his thrusts became more relentless, causing her head to fall back against the wall. "Oh...you feel so good. I need more." She whimpered, as a small squeal escapes her lips after feeling his hips snap forward again, picking up his pace.

The way she moaned and cried for him fueled his carnal needs, spurring him to drive into her at an inhumanly rapid pace. Every muscle in his body trembled with the effort, his breath coming out in ragged pants. His fangs descended further, the tips grazing her throat, the threat of piercing her tender flesh an unmistakable promise of his intention to consume her wholly.

His mouth found the other side of her neck before his fangs punctured her flesh. But this time, he wasn't careful as he drank from her. Y/N could feel the warm blood dripping down her chest as he tasted her sweet, addicting essence. As he feasted on her, his cock pounded into her at a savage pace, each punishing stroke sending sparks of pleasure coursing through their bodies.

But Steve could sense the tightening in his own body as his orgasm rapidly approached, and with a low grunt, he pulled out of her. Not without gathering the mixture of her and his juices before continuing his path. Her moans grew louder, causing Steve to cover her mouth with his hand, as he used his other hand to gather the essence on his hand before slowly slipping his coated, fingers in her mouth. Her face was heated and her eyes squeezed shut while sucking his fingers.

"How does this taste? Open your eyes," he ordered, as her chest rose up and down, clearly having a difficult time catching her breath.

"Good," Y/N whispered, her body relaxing against the cool wall behind her. She'd felt his absence as his thick, throbbing cock slid out, causing a shiver up her spine. Yet still, she somehow needed more.

A growl rumbled in Steve's chest as he removed his fingers, gazing down at the beautiful image before him. Seeing her like this, covered in a sheen of sweat, her legs trembling and barely able to stand, drove him wild.

In another flurry of motion, he lifted her off the ground once more, her arms and legs instantly wrapping around his body. With ease, he carried her across the living room before placing her gently on the plush couch. As he hovered over her, his muscular body emanating a cool chill, he whispered darkly in her ear, "It's time I fuck you senseless."

He didn't have time to savor or bask in this sight for much longer, as he plunged his still throbbing length right back into her dripping pussy, which was now sore due to his roughness from earlier. At this moment, he wanted to fill her, to feel her tight walls gripping him as he plowed into her at a desperate pace, their primal need overwhelming them.

Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he pounded into her, almost at an inhuman speed. Y/N tilted her head back as she felt her walls clench around him, whimpering softly. She was so sensitive right now, her breath grew heavy as she squirmed underneath him. "Steve, it's too much. I...can't," she whined as she continued to sob, drunk on the feeling of him driving into her, deep in the way she liked best.

His whole body began to tremble with the force of his powerful thrusts, the couch shook under the pressure. The world outside melted away, their moans mingling and ringing throughout the house in a heated passion. "Yes, you can. You can take it. Show me how good you can be and cum, right here, all over my thick cock." Steve demanded, burying his head in the crook of her neck. The warmth emanating from her body provided comfort, soothing his constant hunger and thirst for her. He longed for these moments when their bodies became one, giving both of them the satisfaction they so desperately craved.

The feeling of him ramming into her was almost too much, her fingernails were digging into his flesh, trying to find anything to hold on to. It wasn't long until she could feel her body tense, her warm heat clenching around him again. "S-Steve, I'm close."

Not before much longer, she came undone all over him, the hot, sticky liquid squirting over his girth. His thrusts slowed down, helping her ride out her orgasm. Once her orgasm subsided, Steve grabbed Y/N's leg, putting it over his shoulder, allowing him more room to pump in and out of her soaked hole faster than before. She whimpered once more as the wet sensation overwhelmed whatever sense remained inside of her brain after such intense arousal.

The sight of her quivering beneath him, the small sounds of protest that slipped past her lips, only fueled his desire even more. "Steve, please. I can't take it any longer..." she pleaded, her fingers now running down his firm chest as the couch creaked beneath them. "Please...Let me - oh god." She knew her body was aching as he pounded into her, rubbing raw flesh which was now over-sensitized.

A smug smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he gazed down at her lustfully, a feral hunger evident in his eyes. The look on her face was priceless, an intoxicated grin spread across her face, lost in the moment. His eyes darkened as they raked over her body, the slight sheen of sweat glistening in the dimly lit room.

Her eyes closed, her chest heaved with every thrust, and the soft, yet shallow gasps from her made him question if she'd survive his harsh assault.

His jaw clenched, "Come now, don't pass out on me just yet," He growled in her ear, gripping her hip hard enough to leave a bruise, forcing her body against the leather couch.

Before his release was upon him, his whole body quaked, a surge of unmatched intensity struck him as an explosion of ecstasy ignited his entire being. White, hot semen poured into her with a rush of pure pleasure, his knees growing weak as he collapsed atop her spent form.

A moan caught in his throat, and for a moment everything fell silent, save for the rapid sound of Y/N's heartbeat pulsating beneath him. Her eyelashes fluttered open and for a few moments, she stared at him with adoration in her eyes before pulling him in for another sweet, kiss.

After a couple of minutes, he pulled away from her, her body quivered at the loss of contact. "Come on, baby." he murmured, rising to his feet and picking her up from the couch. "Let's get you all cleaned up and ready for bed."

At this moment, the small bathroom didn't seem far as he made his way up the stairs. All Y/N cared about right now, was him cleaning her. She rested her head against his broad chest, the beat of her heart was beginning to become steady once again.

credit by @.cafekitsune

#steve kemp #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x you #steve kemp x female reader #steve kemp x y/n #steve kemp fanfic #steve kemp fanfiction #steve kemp smut #steve kemp imagine #fresh the movie #sebastian stan #steve kemp oneshot.#mywriting

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justarandomgirly · 1 year

Text

Sebastian Stan as Steve Kemp in Fresh (2022) dir.Mimi Cave

#sebastian stan #my gifs #steve kemp #fresh #fresh 2022 #the fresh #fresh movie #fresh the movie #dance #dancing #kitchen

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abbatoirablaze · 4 months

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Welcome To The Dollhouse, Same Tastes

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of being drugged, violence, mentions of cannibalism, manipulation, mentions of smut, dubcon relationship, secrets, angst, threats of murder,

“Ohhh, fuck…you’re so beautiful like this, baby,” he growled, his hands trailing over her breasts and the swell of her stomach until they were in line with his face, which was inches from her core. His breath fanned across the warmth radiating off of her petals as his hands reached forward and spread them, revealing the glistening of her lips, “god, I want to eat you…”

“I’m not on the menu, Brendan,” she giggled softly as she reached forward and her hands began to play with his hair, “you know that…”

“Mmm, you know in what way I meant,” he growled playfully as she tugged on his tresses. Their eyes met, and she saw a sensual danger to them before his eyes flickered hungrily back to her cunt, “I want to devour every morsel of your arousal.”

She shifted, the words affecting her in a specific way, “Brendan…”

His own erection pressed against the bed frame as he pulled her forward until he could drape her thighs over his shoulders. She moaned as he pressed a delicate kiss to her mound.

“I love seeing you like this,” he growled, his hands trailing back up to her stomach where he cradled her bump, “love seeing you pregnant with my child…breasts swelling…pussy always sopping wet for me when I come…I love the way your body reacts to me, goddess…”

“Brendan…”

“Shh,” he cooed, trying to dissuade her from thinking about their own lives outside of what was in the room, “I want to enjoy the moment with you, goddess. I want to relish in my partner’s sweet, perfect form…her immaculate beauty. How we create perfect, gorgeous babies…how well that tight cunt milks me dry…”

“I wanna come home,” she whimpered softly, eyes meeting his as she begged him, “I-I want to be home…with you…with the boys…I want to know them….I want them to know me as mommy…not her.”

“They do,” he promised gently, kissing her thigh, “the boys know that you are their mommy…they know that Ann is just a facade…they-“

“Then let me come home…I want to be home…with you…”

His jaw twitched, “Goddess-“

“I’m not just a toy,” she said quickly, cutting him off as her lip began to quiver. She hurriedly pushed herself away from him and up the bed, “I don’t want to do this anymore, Brendan…aren’t you tired of this?”

He sucked in on his cheeks and looked away from her, defeat coating the air, “of course I’m tired of it, goddess…don’t you think I wish it was you in my bed every night? Don’t you think I wish that when the boys have nightmares and ask for mommy in the middle of the night, you were there and not Ann? They won’t let her touch them. They won’t allow her to be part of their lives because they know that all she is to me is live-in cattle. But Ann doesn’t want you home, Lindsey, we’ve gone over this.”

“In nine years all you’ve taken is an arm and a leg, Brendan,” she spat, “nine years. I’ve given you our sons. I-we’re going to have a daughter in two month-“

“Don’t you think I know that?” he growled, cutting her off as he stood, “don’t you think I know how messed up this all is, Lindsey? I want you home. I do. The boys want you home. I DON’T WANT TO RAISE ANOTHER CHILD WITHOUT YOU!”

“If you really felt that way then you would have told Ann to go to hell.”

“She knows too much,” he hissed, “she knows all about my operations…she could make sure that I never saw life outside of a prison, Lindsey. She could make sure the kids were taken away and that I never saw them again.”

“Then put her on the menu…”

“I-I can’t…”

“Then get out of my room…” she growled, “I don’t know why I thought you would have changed after my fling with Lee…but you haven’t. Tell Barnes and Rogers you’re done…I’ll go back to the floor. There are plenty of men with this kind of kink…”

“If another man touches you, I’ll kill them!” he promised.

“No, you won’t,” she spat, “just like you won’t touch Lee…because this is what I want…and you promised that you would always listen to me…remember?”

“Lindsey!”

“Get out, Brendan…”

“You’re taking her!”

Her arms crossed protectively over her chest, and she rolled her eyes, “I don’t want him here.”

“Well, you are no longer welcome at the dollhouse, Lindsey!” Bucky growled from his spot at his desk, “we don’t put up with those sorts of things.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” he mumbled sadly as his eyes fluttered shut. Goddess watched as the lawyer’s eyes fought against the powder she’d mixed in with his own party favors. His hand slid down her frame and stopped over her stomach. The baby kicked against his hand, “y-you’re pregnant…it’s so hot, goddess…”

“You’re tired, Mike!” she whispered softly, petting his short hair. The lawyer looked up at her through thick lashes, confusion crossing his features if only for a moment until she stroked his warm cheek, “get some sleep…”

“You’re su-such a good woman,” he muttered, “if-if this was my baby, I’d treat you so good. Y-you wouldn’t even be in a place like this…”

“But it’s not!”

She barely recognized how hollow her own voice had sounded.

“I know,” he frowned, eyes trailing back down to her stomach, “but we could pretend…right? I-I know that you would take Bodecker up here and that weirdo has a kink of playing cops and robbers…di-did you roleplay with him? Or-or is that why the two of you stopped? Got too frisky and tried to rail you while he pretended to arrest you.”

“Go to sleep, Mike.”

“I-I’m not tired,” he lied, fighting against his own exhausted eyes once more, “I-I wanna stay up with you…play house…we-we can pretend that-“

“No…”

His brow furrowed as he looked back up at her, “No? Y-you girls don’t say no. Why are you being mean to me Goddess?”

Her jaw twitched as she fought back the urges she’d felt in her first two pregnancies…urges that had normally made her stomach turn, but when she was pregnant, was like her own personal high. It was the reason Brendan had two identical bite marks; one on his ass and one on his inner thigh.

Her eyes focused in on the lean muscle on the lawyer’s thigh.

His cum was already drying against it, and that would make his lightly sheened skin taste all the more salty, but she didn’t mind.

“Mike…”

“Yeah goddess?”

“Do you think that maybe…I could make it up to you?”

“Hmm?”

She shifted until she was out of his reach, and she pushed him onto his back, before sliding down his chest, “let me make it up to you then, Mike…me being mean…”

“Y-you wanna make it up to me?”

“Mhmm…”

He smiled as her hands trailed down his chest. His cock started to twitch once more, already hardening again as she placed herself between his thighs.

One hand gripped his length and began pumping him, while the other searched along his thigh for just a plump enough piece of flesh.

She started kissing along the lean frame of the lawyer, and he frowned, watching her sink lower on his body until her lips were just a few inches above and to the outside of his knee.

“Wh-what are you doing baby?”

“Just playing…” she offered, pressing another kiss to the skin that was made up of just enough muscle and the slightest bit of fat. She watched as his eyes fluttered shut once more when her other hand reached up and started playing with his balls. His hands went down into her hair and when he moaned again, his eyes fluttering shut once more, she took her chance.

“She took a chunk out of his thigh, Kemp,” Steve Rogers growled at the doctor. When he didn’t react, Steve slammed his hand down heavily on the desk, causing Goddess to jump, “God DAMN IT, KEMP!”

“I didn’t ask that you call him!”

“Well, we can’t get ahold of your sister,” Bucky grunted, “ever since Steve called Hansen out and he beat the shit out of the magician then bought Angel out they’ve been off the grid.”

Her eyes snapped to his, “you tried calling Jen?”

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t know of you and the cannibal corpse’s similar tastes,” Bucky grumbled, instinctively looking away from the couple, “but Steve and I are in agreement with this…either he takes you or we’re turning you over to the authorities…as of now, we have our asses covered. Bodecker has a soft spot for you so he’s making sure Weiss doesn’t file a report. Cho took care of it to make him think that he just took too much drugs and stumbled out of the dollhouse then got attacked by a dog…she already altered the bite so that it doesn’t look human.”

“Then problem solved,” Brendan began, his hand running through his hair, “I mean-“

“We know that she had this taste because of you, Kemp!”

“Bunny-“

“No,” she said firmly, pushing away from the wall where she stood to go towards Goddess, “she wasn’t like this before you, Kemp….but I know what happened on those little getaway trips to your workshop when you found out she was pregnant. I know how you conditioned her to crave what you do…just like I know about how you let her do something to you that no one else ever has.”

He paled before looking at his Goddess, “L-Lindsey…”

“What is she talking about?” Bucky asked, shooting daggers at Kemp.

“What are you keeping from us, Bunny?”

“You promised-“

“And you promised me that you had it under control,” Bunny replied as she pulled her younger counterpart into her arms, ignoring how the bits of blood stained her clothes, “you told me that you were okay…that you could contain it…”

“I-I thought I could,” she whimpered, shaking her head, “Bunny, I-“

“Tammy told me you got GHB from her…that’s why he wasn’t able to fight you off completely…” she told her softly, “you broke too many rules, Linds….I can’t let you put Steve and James in that position…he’s done this to you…he’s continued to knock you up and condition you to crave it…he needs to own up to the responsibility he has…”

“What the hell is going on here?” Steve growled, suddenly realizing there was much more going on beneath his nose that he’d ever imagined.

“The house upstate…my workshop…th-that’s the only place I could take you,” He admitted nervously as he looked at the woman that he really had trained to be the perfect woman for him, “I-I can’t stay there all the time with you, Goddess…but that-that’s the only place I have…”

“I want the kids there with me.”

“But Ann-“

“Fuck Ann,” Goddess spat, “if you want me to leave with you then you tell me right now you put her in that basement the second you get the chance…I-I’ll let them do what they want with me otherwise…but I’m not playing second fiddle anymore, Brendan…it’s me or Ann.”

“Okay…” he replied after a moment, “I get it…”

“No…I don’t think you do,” she said firmly, “I want you to take me home…and then tonight when you go back to her, I want you to tell her that you are taking her on a surprise vacation…then drug her. After she’s out, you tell the boys that we’re finally going to be a family and you have them pack a bag. And you drive them to me. If she’s not in the basement, her auction started by the time sunrise hits…if I’m not hugging my sons by the time the sun peaks over the tree line, if the first thing I don’t hear about on the news is you burning down the life you had with her, and that house engulfed in flames, then I’m disappearing, Brendan. And then, I’ll do what I always told you…I’ll hunt her down, and kill her. And then I’ll come after you. You taught me all of your tricks, Brendan…I love you…but I’m done pretending that we aren’t the same. You made me…now you choose how this ends.”

#welcome to the dollhouse #brendan kemp #brendan steven kemp #steve kemp #fresh au #fresh the movie #fresh #sebastian stan characters

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