#steve kemp x f!reader

[shadeysprings]

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

[thevillainswhore]

A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing

Pairing: Dark!Steve Kemp x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: It was an art - one that took many years and many sacrifices to perfect, and Steve had managed to become a master at it. There was just one thing he would not fully commit to sacrificing, at least not the important parts that kept life essence flowing: you.

Warnings: THIS IS A DARK FIC - PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - dead dove, kidnapping, mentions of smut (p in v), fingering and oral (fem receiving), implied non-con, degradation, restraints, physical abuse (face slapping), cannibalism (it’s Steve kemp what did you expect?), force feeding, hints of Stockholm syndrome?

A/N: Unbeta’d | dividers created by @rookthorne thank you for also helping me with the summary my love 🥰 | this oneshot was inspired by the lovely @smutconnoisseur who made me this absolutely stunning moodboard 😭 I just knew I had to write something as soon as I saw it. Thank you so much sweetie, loves you the most 🥹

“Let me go, you fucking psycho!”

Steve merely kept on humming to himself, happily slicing the meat in front of him into finely cut pieces. It took severe attention to detail to finesse the glide of the knife just right, cutting through as smooth as butter.

It had taken quite a long time to get his craft on the line of perfection - years in the making - and now that he’d finally mastered the art, it was as easy as riding a bike. The rush of adrenaline spiking his nerves gave him a hit unlike anything else in his life. This was what he was meant for. He’d wasted so much time not giving in before.

Wooden screeching against the floor snapped him out of his inner musings, eyes lifting up to see you fidgeting in your chair - presumably trying to escape, but the chains attached to your feet would keep you rooted.

Steve couldn’t help but notice how the glow of the candlelight surrounding you on the dinner table highlighted the beauty in the features of your face. Sunset orange dancing among the shadows, defining your cheekbones and your shoulders decorated in the straps of a pretty dress.

You were so beautiful. Perfect for him.

Placing the meat onto a skillet to cook, Steve wiped his hands and rounded the corner of the kitchen island to join you, the sudden bravado you had earlier evaporating while terror took over your body. His cock shouldn’t have gotten hard seeing the tears gathering on your lash line, but those glassy eyes reminded him of a deer in fright, ready to run. And fuck, would he love the chase.

“Bambi… join me.”

It was haunting, the kind smile Steve let loose as he held out his hand to you after arriving by your side. No wasn’t an answer, and you did well to stand up on your shaky legs - from still recovering or fear, he wasn’t sure - quietly proud of you either way.

Flashbacks of you clumsily tripping over the bed to go relieve yourself on the toilet crossed his mind as he brought you to the middle of the living room. After fucking you three times in one night, leaving you screaming his name and begging for more each time, he couldn’t help be prideful watching you stumble your way out of the room. Just like a doe learning to walk for the first time.

Of course, the chains rattling with each step you took while limping weren’t part of the memory. The heavy breaths were familiar though, smirk crawling onto his face as he imagined your adorable squeaks while he ate your cunt like he was man starved.

Once Steve had directed you into the middle of the living room rug, he brought you closer to him, slipping his arm over your waist as you flinched, and grabbing your other hand to hold as he began to slowly dance. He was thoughtful enough to keep his steps light and be extra careful with you.

Deciding it was too much of a distraction for you a long time ago, Steve had decided to forego music in the house - it let your mind switch off and he wanted your brain alert… in the present. Solely on him and every move he made. So, he graced you with his singing voice instead, whispering the lyrics to ‘Restless Heart’ in your ear.

Steve felt the shaking of your chest before your uncontrollable sobs cut through his singing. He’d be offended had he no clue how scared his Bambi was.

“What’s wrong, Bambi? Huh? Don’t you like it here with me?”

“I w-want to go h-home.” You stuttered.

Steve sighed and lifted your head up with his palms, kissing your forehead and leaning down to your watery eyeline to speak to you directly.

“Oh, baby…” his condescending tone gave away his faux concern for you, “you know I can’t let you do that.”

You began to heave, breaths coming in fast and heavy with panic - Steve almost felt a crack in his heart. Almost.

Truth be told, Steve knew you were it for him. Ever since he first saw you from the corner of his eye walking down the fruit and vegetable aisle, he’d been bewitched.

Youthful, tight skin, good looking.

You ticked all the boxes for him… and the rest of his client base.

He’d caught other women before - gorgeous, just the right amount of meat on their thighs to keep the buyers happy.

They were good. However, they didn’t compare to you.

Normally, Steve would be excited to find new prey. The cat and mouse play of picking out women to cut up and sell. But, you were different. Steve wanted you all for himself.

See, you weren’t just a pretty face, you were witty, funny, intelligent - maybe not smart enough to see what was coming, but he didn’t hold that against you, he was just too conniving after all.

And those goddamn dates he took you on, paving the path for his plan to come to fruition, when he found himself enjoying your company. Steve wanted to spend all of his time with you, willingly.

That was when he decided he didn’t want to go along with his usual plans. Instead, he wanted to date you. See where this relationship could go.

So, he took you to his house tucked away in a secluded area - the excuse of wanting a weekend without the modern world bothering you in disguise of your questioning to the lack of signal or Wi-Fi.

Honestly, he didn’t initially plan to drug you. The opportunity just… sprung onto him. Too tempting to not listen to his base instincts and ignore the spiked wine hidden in the alcohol cabinet.

A voice in the back of his head told him he shouldn’t be doing that, he vividly remembered it. The urge to get a kick out of his charades with someone as good as you overpowered it, though.

Steve wasn’t proud of himself afterwards, but how could he be blamed? He’d worked out a successful routine before he stumbled on you. Wooing girls fitting his mental meat quality checklist and eventually luring them into his second home. It was only natural to follow his instincts, what he’d made of himself.

You especially weren’t happy when you found yourself on his home operating table, opening your eyes to realise your boyfriend was taking your ass.

Weirdly, he didn’t find guilt in the thrill he took from that - that seemed to sicken you the most. He remembered how you lunged for him, screaming about the insanity of his pleasures when you woke up after the surgery to find him sitting in your caged prison. Cutting into your delicate skin to watch the stream of blood flow down your rump to then hearing him laughing to himself as he showed you the flesh stolen away from your body had your head spinning - dangling it from his fingers in front of your face.

It wasn’t too long after that you passed out from overexertion. If only you knew the way he used you to take care of himself after that.

It may have been confusing to understand, but Steve genuinely thought the world of you. Those few months of dating spent together changed his mind on whether he’d find a companion ever again.

Finding love alongside Steve’s hobby had been difficult to put it lightly. His first wife knew of his side activities coinciding with his doctoral career. That was why he settled being with her, someone who was accepting of who he was. But, although she may have put up with what he was doing, she didn’t initiate that spark within Steve - that buried, deep seated fire that begged to be set free. Steve wanted to be seen, to be loved in his entirety.

There was no shame in that.

That was what led to the downfall of his marriage, Steve was no longer interested in the farce of keeping up appearances with a woman who didn’t truly understand him. Which is why she had to go. Just divorcing wasn’t an option, she knew too much.

Then came along you. His pretty doe, who captured his heart from a glance.

As your hysteria whittled on, Steve hugged you tight to his chest.

He’d kept you here for a month in total now. Four glorious weeks of spending time with you alone, bonding together. Your feistiness only made his cock grow in his slacks whenever you put up a fight.

His little doe didn’t put out easy - just how he liked it.

As your tears continued to soak his dress shirt further, he shushed your cries, keeping you close and he swayed side to side in comfort.

The beeping of the oven hob, interrupted Steve’s attempt at soothing you. The meat was cooked and it was time to plate up the dinner he’d made for the two of you.

Bringing you away from his chest, Steve smoothed your hair behind your ears, wiping his thumbs under your swollen eyes to get rid of your tears. Holding your arm, he again directed you back towards the table to sit down, clamped your hands back into the cuffs attached before walking towards the kitchen.

Peaking over, Steve noticed you had calmed down and collected yourself by the time he was adding the peppermint sauce over the mashed potatoes and meat.

He had high hopes on your opinion of his cooking, what you thought mattered to him, believe it or not. It was his real passion beside becoming a plastic surgeon, and he wanted you of all people to like it.

Gracefully, Steve walked on over with his finished plates and set one on each placemat. Your head was bowed, eyes set on the meal set in front of you.

“What is it?”

Your mousy voice spoke up and had Steve looking down at you, lifting your chin up with two fingers so he could see your face.

“Your favourite, sweetheart. Steak and mashed potato.”

A shudder racked through your body as Steve smirked, dropping your face and grabbing the large napkin to fan out over your thighs. He smoothed the material over your legs and traced the tips of his fingers along your bare skin. The sight of you inching away didn’t sit well with Steve, pinching you to hear that familiar yelp he loved so much.

He began to get settled in his seat, combing his styled hair back with his fingers before beginning to cut up the meat on his plate.

“You remember our dinner date don't you, baby? You ordered the exact same thing when the waiter asked. Poor boy couldn’t keep his eyes to himself when I made you speak as I fucked you with my fingers.”

Steve knows you didn’t want him to hear the gasp that couldn’t be kept in. Adorable. You were still so shy around him.

But he didn’t appreciate how long your silence lingered, looking up to see you still staring down at your food, untouched.

The knife clashing down on the plate made you jump in your seat. You didn’t want to eat, no bother. Steve would help you.

Stabbing a cut of meat with his fork, Steve carefully leaned over the table to hold the steak up to your mouth for you to take a bite.

“Open up, my little doe.”

Steve saw your mouth opening up, happy to see you were cooperating with his request. You were finally making progress. Only for you to suddenly move your head to the side as he got close and bite down onto his hand, hard.

The fury built up in Steve as he snatched his hand away, fork scattering onto the table as he released it. In instant retaliation, Steve backhanded you across the face, sending your head whipping over to the side as blood spurted out your mouth.

“Bad girl.”

Blood from the force of his hit trickled down the corner of your mouth. You hadn’t moved from your spot for a second before Steve grabbed the front of your neck, bringing you closer over the table and ignoring your squeak of pain.

“Now, eat what I so graciously cooked you before I fucking force it down your throat.” His spit from the anger of his voice shot out onto your face. Steve shoved you back before slumping into his own seat once again.

His hot and cold nature always had you on edge, but you were used to it by now. Is that what he really deserved after being so thoughtful to you?

Steve observed you closely. Watching your every move should you try something like that again. Only would you get away with something like that once.

You picked up the fork dropped, meat still intact on the silverware and inspected it thoroughly. He knew you were looking for hints of poison or something that indicated he’d drugged you. He threatened it enough times for you to be wary.

He wasn’t sure what you would have preferred once you found out.

Opening your mouth, you placed the meat tenderly onto your tongue and closed to begin eating.

Steve waited until you had swallowed. Intently watching you chew before you were finished with your bite. He gave it a second before sitting back up, taking the fork from you and stabbing another piece, ready to start his meal.

Not before letting you in on his secret ingredient. “I always said you tasted good, didn’t I, Bambi?”

Cold dread visibly washed over your face as you went deadly quiet. Your hands began to abnormally shake. Steve just sat there and watched as your body went into emotional turmoil.

There wasn’t much you could have done, chained to the table, hyperventilating. It wasn’t even as if you could have stuck your fingers down your throat to throw it back up, fingers too far out of reach to even try. It didn’t stop you from dry heaving over the side of the table, retching loudly.

Eventually, the panic your body sent you in, along with your howling cries from despair allowed you to get worked up enough to throw up. Regurgitated meat mixed with bile landing on the carpet as Steve carried on eating - unfazed.

It took you a while for your body to finally relax, for your mind to comprehend what Steve just made you do. Sweat dripped down your face as you forced your body back upright, too weak to fully keep your eyes open as you hoarsely spoke.

“Why are you doing this?”

You looked defeated, body slumped with dark circles under your eyes, shivering like Steve hadn’t cranked the heating up.

Steve wiped his mouth. He understood you were an acquired taste, not for the lightheaded - you’d get used to it eventually though. He thought you were delicious, cleaning up his plate entirely.

He looked directly into your eyes after he finished eating, voice devoid of emotion. “Isn’t it obvious? I love you.”

Your reply is instant “No, you don’t.”

Darkness blackered his pupils. Body still and uptight as he went still. Steve pushed his plate away and leaned his forearms onto the table, never stopping staring as you squirmed in your seat.

“Don’t you ever question my love for you again. Do you hear me?”

You swallowed the presumed lump in your throat.

Steve couldn’t understand how you didn’t know how much he cared for you. You were here, eating in his dining room. He’d sacrificed customer sales by keeping you to himself. He loved you. You’d understand one day though. He’d make sure of it.

“Give it time, Bambi. I know you’ll learn to love me back.”

“And if I don’t?” There was one last inch of life in your eyes, a thin thread of hope holding on for dear life. Steve could see it clear as day, the embers in your irises dying out with each moment he took to answer.

He knew he had you then, the gut punch of his response blowing out the flame once and for all.

“Funny… you think you have a choice.”

#steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x female reader #steve kemp x f!reader #steve kemp smut #dark!steve kemp #dark!steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x y/n #Steve kemp x reader smut #dark!Steve kemp x f!reader #dark!steve kemp x y/n #dark!steve kemp x reader smut #dark Steve kemp #Steve kemp x you

[buckyscombatboots]

🩸 Steve Kemp x Reader Drabble 🩸

Pairing: Master!Steve Kemp x Bunny!Reader

Warnings: Steve is a warning in itself, marking/biting, cunnilingus, mentions of cannibalism , mentions of blood, Dom!Steve + Sub!reader

Nicknames: Bunny, Slut, Master

His hand gripped your thigh, a grip that could kill—and it had, he stroked the soft flesh pinching it when he got close to your already damp panties. You carded your cuffed hands through his silky locks, relishing in the sight below you. His hand slipped back down to your knees rubbing them decisively with his calloused palm. Two rubs each, slow and methodical as if he was feeling up a watermelon trying to pick the best one. Like you were food. You were food to him. You tried to push away the disturbing reality and focus on his sculpted jaw as nudged his slightly stubbly cheek against your inner thigh. He took in a deep inhale of your skin, before taking the sensitive flesh into his mouth; sucking it, running it through his teeth, playful nibbling. You had to swallow down the witty remark that sat on the top of your tongue, ‘didn't your parents ever tell you not to play with your food Stevie?’ You bit down on your lip suppressing a giggle. The pain of Steve chomping down on your thigh pulled you out of your gallow humour inner monologue “Ouch!” You yelped, tugging on his hair. He released the skin, blood trickled from his bite mark. He lapped at the trickling red, as if it was wine that had spilled on his hand whilst opening a bottle of wine.

“Focus, Bunny, I want you to watch everything I do to you. Even when I do this.” He bit down on the same thigh, this time closer to your dripping cunt. But he dug his teeth further in, at the same time his fingers pushed aside your panties. He ran his fingers through your hot, damp folds; pushing two digits into your needy cunt. He growled into your thigh, chewing on the bite mark like a rabid animal desecrating your corpse. The danger was so enticing. Pleasure and pain soon bleed into one another as his fingers attack the spongy spot inside you, curling his fingers to rub and tease it whilst he moves to your other thigh. The initial bite made you squeal, but as he tugged at flesh and added another finger the squeal of pain turned into moans of pleasure. You felt him rut his hips into your ankle, his clothed dick straining against jeans. His head lifted from your leg, he craned his neck back slightly to look at you. Your blood smeared on his saliva coated chin, his tongue jutted out of his mouth licking at as much of the blood as he could manage. He growled as he swallowed, his eyes almost rolling back into his skull “You taste so fucking good. Anytime I get a taste of you, even just a smell of you. I go feral.” He scissored his fingers inside you, thrusting them in and out of you “Cum. Cum on my fingers Bunny. Like the little pain slut you are. You like this, don’t you? Like me slowly devouring you.” Your grip on his hair tightened and your hips raised off the chair, you pushed yourself further down his fingers trying to match his pace. His thrusts stopped. “Tell me, Bunny, or I won’t let you cum.” He snarled, giving you an intense glare.

You whimpered “I love it! Love you devouring me, feel so good!” You practically screamed, you were so close. He slapped your clit with the tips of his fingers

“That’s my good little slut.” He cooed, resuming his ministrations. His head dipped down, he took your sensitive bud in his mouth. Running his teeth over the hood of your clit ever so gently as his tongue flicked at it. You choked on a moan, throwing your head back as you came on his face. He swallowed down every single drop of your juices hungrily, the salacious slurping sound piercing through your blissed out haze causing your cheeks to burn red. “Fuckkkk. I should bottle this shit up and sell it, so sweet. I can’t get enough.” He groaned, sliding his tongue inside your clenching hole trying to drink as much of you as he possibly could. When he had sucked you dry he rose to his feet, he stroked your face with his palm running his thumb across your lip “Open.” You oblige “Good little Bunny.” He praises before shoving all three of his fingers that had been inside you down your throat “clean my fingers, Bunny. We’re going to the bedroom, I’m not done with you yet.”

Tag list:

@alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @flamefoxxrecs

#smut #smut fanfiction #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan #Sebastian stan character x you #steve kemp #steve kemp x y/n #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x you #fresh movie #smut drabble #drabble #steve kemp drabble #steve kemp smut #steve kemp one shot #sebastian stan x reader #steve kemp x female reader #steve kemp x f!reader #dark smut #dom!steve kemp #sub!reader

[rookthorne]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝙎𝙚𝙗𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵.

𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── 𝐊𝐄𝐘 ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

— 𝐀  = angst — 𝐖  = whump — 𝐈 = sick fic — 𝐃  = dark — 𝐃² = dead dove — 𝐏 = poly — 𝐊 = kid fic — 𝐅  = fluff — 𝐒  = smut

∎ 🖤 = reader favourite ∎ 🩶 = 3k + words ∎ 💛 = personal favourite

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐎𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐃

You knew he loved to punish you – almost cruelly – and he set you up to fail with as little care as the Devil himself.

#nick fowler x female reader #steve kemp x female reader #lee bodecker x female reader #nick fowler x f!reader #steve kemp x f!reader #lee bodecker x f!reader #nick fowler x reader #steve kemp x reader #lee bodecker x reader #nick fowler fanfiction #steve kemp fanfiction #lee bodecker fanfiction #masterlist

[breakablebarnes]

I Say, You Do

pairing: steve kemp x female!reader

words: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, somewhat dark (I mean it is Steve Kemp), somewhat dubcon, degradation kink, praise kink, impact play, sadism/masochism, restraints, dom/sub aspects, spitting, use of vibrator, orgasm denial, edging, fingering (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving), oral (male receiving), face fucking, nipple play

summary: AU: Lady Marmalade owns a house of fabulous repute and employs only the finest specimens for her clients. After a hard week at work, the Lady knows exactly what you need.

a/n: Thank you to Dani, @yarnforbrains​, for organizing this! I know I waited until the last minute, but I did enjoy this challenge!! Writing Steve is fun hehe. Enjoy this absolute filth. 

➵ MASTERLIST | KO-FI | REQUESTS | LIBRARY

The work week had laid heavily on you this time. Just an enormous feeling of pressure on your shoulders to do everything made you want to do nothing at all. Think about nothing at all.

So, that’s when your friend Wanda told you about a place that she heard about that could help you do just that.

You walked in the door, a bell chiming as you walked in. You walked up to the desk and suddenly there she was – Lady Marmalade herself.

“Hey sugar,” She said sweetly, approaching the desk. “What can I do for you?”

You had known exactly what you were going to say when walking in, but suddenly all the words left your brain. It frustrated you that you couldn’t even think. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Hard week?” She posed, raising an eyebrow.

You huffed out. “I just feel all this pressure with work. I just don’t want to think for a while.”

She smirked. “I may have just the thing for you, sugar.” You perked up and she began to head down the hallway. “Follow me.”

You followed behind her, seeing many different doors stretched down the hall, all of them with different designs. She stopped at the last one in that hall. The door was different than the others in that it wasn’t a complete door. It was a brown wood, but it almost looked like a jail door with bars. The Lady swiped a card and door opened. She stepped inside and you followed. There was a beautiful ocean mural on the wall comprised of oranges, blues, and pinks. There was a mattress in the middle of the room with no bed frame. On the wall there were a set of chains with restraints. You felt yourself clench at the sight. You looked over to the Lady. How did she know exactly what you needed? To be out of control for a change.

She smirked at you knowingly. “Well, have a seat,” She said ushering to the mattress. “Dr. Kemp likes his victims, I mean patinets, to be in position when he arrives.”

You raised your eyebrows, but took a seat on the bouncy mattress, your back to the wall. The Lady pulled your hands above your head and secured them in the restraints. She looked down to you and whispered, “Have fun,” with a wink. She left; the door closing shut behind her.

You felt a little exposed. You still had your clothes on, but you knew anyone could see in the door that came by, but then again, maybe that was why it was at the end of the hall. You also felt exposed in the sense that you were, you know, restrained. You looked up to the wall where your hands were bound together, a chain linked from the cuffs to the wall. You pulled at the chains to test their strength and your hands barely moved.

You looked away and finally looked up at the ceiling again before searching around the room again, finding nothing interesting to look at. There was nothing else in the room besides the mattress and a small cabinet. You began to wriggle around in anticipation.

“Well,” a voice spoke up from behind the doors, startling you. You looked over to see a man in the shadows. He tilts his head. “What do I have here?”

He slides the card, the door opens, he steps into the light and you can finally see him. He has dark, fluffy hair and a jawline for days. He smirks at you and you feel the butterflies in your stomach. His eyes are such a piercing blue that you can see them from across the room.

You open your mouth to speak, but he holds up a finger, and you close your mouth again.

He smirks and comes closer, squatting down next to the mattress and tilting his head to look at you. He’s even prettier up close.

“As pretty as you look with your mouth open, keep it closed. For now.” He said, patting your cheek. “That was a rhetorical question.”

You blinked and his smirk grew. “Well, you listen well. Let’s see if that continues.” His face suddenly shifted. It went from his charming and pleasant smirk, to a very serious almost eerie look in his eyes. He grabbed your face roughly, turning your head to look at him dead on and squeezing your cheeks between his fingers. “Alright, this is how this is gonna work, princess. I say, you do. Understand?” 

You nod. “Good. So, you are going to keep that pretty mouth shut unless I say otherwise. I don’t want to hear a peep from you. If I do, there will be consequences. Understand, princess?”

You nod again, gulping as you do.

“Now,” He said, his charming smirk returning. “Are you going to be good? Speak.”

“Yes,” You squeak out, your voice hoarse suddenly. “I’ll be good.”

“Good girl,” He smirked, and pushed your face away.

He stood and began to circle the mattress, looking down at you much like a lion would his prey. You began to wriggle again, pushing your thighs together at his piercing stare.

He chuckled. “Look at you,” He said. “What a whore. You’re already wet and I haven’t done a damn thing.”

How did he know?

He squatted down again, looking you in the eyes. “Open your mouth.” You did as he said without a thought. As soon as you did, he spit directly in your mouth. It shocked you a little, but you could also immediately feel yourself soak your panties. “Close your mouth and swallow.”

You closed your mouth and did as he said, making him chuckle. He grabbed your face, squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger again. “Such a good, obedient, little slut. I can’t wait to see how much I can push you.”

He pushed your face away again and stood up. He took off his brown button up shirt, leaving him in a plain white t-shirt and jeans. He opened a draw in the cabinet and pulled something out that you couldn’t see, setting it down still out of sight. He came over to you, holding scissors. In one fell swoop, he cut open the front of your shirt, making your mouth open in shock. Before you could even realize, he cut open your shorts as well, leaving you in nothing but your underwear as you had chosen not to wear a bra today. He discarded of the ruined material, placing the scissors on the cabinet with the other items that he had gotten out that you still hadn’t seen. He came back over to the end of the mattress right at your feet, holding his hands behind his back.

He admired you for a moment and once again you pressed your thighs together, just hoping for a little bit of friction. You began to ache with want and your core felt cold due to your panties being completely soaked through and the cool air hitting them. He kicked your legs apart with his shoe. “Feet stay there. Bend your legs.”

You did as he said. He crouched down and became face first with your mound. He leaned in and took a deep breath. He stayed there a minute and you finally realized he was smelling you. You had the urge to close your legs, but you didn’t, fearing the consequences. He finally reached up and yanked your panties down your legs before discarding them to the side with the other remnants of your clothes. He came back and immediately dived his tongue into your pussy. You screamed out in surprise, pulling on the chains above you. He pulled away and slapped your thigh definitely hard enough to leave a mark, making you scream out again.

He crawled up your body, coming face to face with you. “What did I say? Speak.”

You head felt like you were floating as you tried to form words. When you didn’t, he smacked you right across the face, leaving your mouth hanging open at the sting.

“I said, speak.” He growled.

“You said keep my mouth shut unless you said otherwise.” You choked out, tears stinging your eyes.

“Right. Now, why didn’t you listen?”

“I…” You started but earned another hit to the face.

“Do you not know what a rhetorical question is, you dumb slut? Did I say speak?” He yelled in your face.

You silently shook your head no as tears fell down your cheeks. “Look at you. Pathetic. Can’t take a punishment, huh, princess?” He said, in a mock-sweet voice. “Too fucking bad.”

He pushed off of you and got up grabbing something from the cabinet. He pressed a button, and you heard a soft hum fill the air. It was a vibrator.

He came over to you and laid by your side, hovering over you. Without much thought, he placed the wand directly to your clit. You breathed in quickly but didn’t scream out this time. He chuckled, “See, we can learn from our mistakes.”

He pressed the plus button, making the vibrations go to a higher setting. You tensed, holding on the chains above the cuffs around your hands. You could feel yourself holding your breath. He pressed the plus again and you were right there. You knew you were going to cum.

And he took it away.

ou couldn’t help the groan that you let out in frustration. He raised an eyebrow at you before reaching over and pinching your nipple. “Maybe we can’t learn from our mistakes. Did you think I was gonna let you cum, princess? After being such a bad girl?”

He pinched your other nipple and you let out a curse which only made him pinch harder. You gritted your teeth to not let out another sound. He removed his hand from your nipple and found your wet folds, and your eyes went wide as he plunged a finger into your hole.

“Not a fucking sound.” He warned. You nodded.

He began pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace. He added a second finger and brushed against that sweet spot inside you, making you bit down on your lip enough to draw blood.

“Is the doctor making you feel good, princess? Speak.”

“Yes, doctor.” You moaned out in relief that you could let a noise out, even if it was just one.

You could feel his bulge against your hip twitch as you called him doctor. He continued pumping in and out of you, hitting that spot every time now that he had found it. He added a third finger and began to really stretch you out and it felt delicious. You bit down on your lip again, tasting the metallic taste of your blood.

He brought the vibrator back out, attaching it to your clit and you almost let out another scream, but held back. “Good girl, princess.” He hummed in your ear and that sentence alone almost made you cum.

You were so close. Right on the edge.

And you let out a moan.

He froze. You could almost feel the anger radiating off this man. He pulled out of you and turned off the vibrator, throwing it to the side. He climbed on top of you and spit in your face, grabbing your cheeks again. “Just when I thought we were getting somewhere, princess. You go and do that. What do I have to do to keep you quiet, huh? Stuff my cock down your throat?”

You gulped and you couldn’t help the way your mouth salivated at the thought of him inside you in any form.

He smirked. “That’s exactly what I’m gonna fucking do.”

He smacked your face lightly before getting up and removing his clothes. Your eyes widened at his length. You didn’t know if you could take it all.

Like he read your mind, he said. “Oh, you’ll take it all, sweetheart. And you’ll fucking thank me for it.”

He hovered over you, his cock inches from your mouth. “Open wide, princess. I’m gonna fuck your face. And you? Don’t you dare fucking cum.” He stopped and you looked up to his face, hovering way above you as your mouth hung open.

You furrowed your eyebrows as he turned away from you, getting off you completely. He grabbed the vibrator and something else you couldn’t see. Then you hear the unmistakable sound of duct tape. He placed the idle vibrator right against your clit and then taped the handle around your leg. He turned it on, all the way up. You gritted your teeth as to not make a sound. He positioned himself over you again and you opened your mouth and he slid right in, hitting the back of your throat. You gagged around him, but he didn’t stop.

He held himself above you and began to pump in and out of your throat, groaning as he did so. Meanwhile, you were trying your damnedest not to cum.

You tried to focus on his assault of your mouth, but that made you wetter.

He was fucking your face at a relentless pace now and you were hoping he would cum any second now so this could be over. You could feel the sweat trickling down your face and back and you dared not to cum. You didn’t want to see the repercussions. 

His pace quickened and he began to stutter his hips. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum, princess.” He stopped suddenly and pulled out completely. “Beg me to let you come with me. Speak.”

“Oh my god, doctor, please let me come. I’ve never needed something so much in my life, please.” You begged, your voice hoarse and shaking as the vibrator kept up its brutal assault on your clit.

“Ehh,” He shrugged, lining up his cock with your mouth again as you opened on instinct waiting for him. He smirked down at your obedient form. “Maybe.” 

He slammed back down your throat, earning a gag from you.

He very quickly was on the precipice of coming again, you could tell by the way his brow was furrowed and his eyes were tightly shut.

“I’m coming, sweetheart. Come with me.”

 You could have passed out. He was letting you come.

As he spilled white hot ropes of cum into the back of your throat, you felt yourself finally let go. You really thought you were going to pass out. Your vision was spotty and your ears began to ring as you come as hard as you ever had.

He pulled out of your mouth and fell down on the mattress beside you, trying to catch his breath just as you were.

“Well, princess,” He started, sweeter than he had been the whole time, “Did I make you forget?”

“Yes, doctor.”

To be updated when I post, please follow @breakablebarnes-library​ and turn on post notifications.

#the thot neighborhood #lady marmalade challenge #steve kemp #steve kemp smut #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x female reader #steve kemp x reader smut #steve kemp x female reader smut #steve kemp x female!reader #steve kemp x f!reader #steve kemp fic #steve kemp fanfic #steve kemp imagine #steve kemp drabble #steve kemp challenge #fresh #fresh fic #fresh fanfic

[lunarbuck]

banner credit to the amazing/incredible/talented/perfect @jen-with-a-pen

hello hello :) Welcome to my Kinktober Masterlist! As much as I would love to do a full fic for every single day of the month, it just isn't in the cards for me.

here you'll find everything I currently have planned for kinktober <;3 Key word being planned... i reserve the right to adjust this haha I also decided to do it by week so I can have some flexibility about when I'm posting these one-shots/drabbles!

I got my prompts from the amazing kinktober list by @flightlessangelwings <3

just a reminder: my blog is 18+! All my writing is 18+ minors and blank/ageless blogs DNI

Please make sure to read the warnings on each individual post. your media consumption is your responsibility.

lets get into it 🌙

my masterlist | @lunarbucklibrary

──── Week One ────

Love Bites

Steve Rogers x f!reader (any race)

Thigh Riding

Lee Bodecker x f!reader (any race)

Table Sex/Threesome/Sensory Deprivation

Stucky x f!reader (any race)

Phone Sex

Sam Wilson x f!reader (any race)

──── Week Two ────

Double Penetration

Stucky x f!reader (any race)

Formal Wear

Bucky Barnes x f!reader (any race)

Being Recorded

Steve Kemp x f!reader (any race)

Free Use

Bucky Barnes x f!reader (any race) & Steve Rogers x f!reader (any race)

──── Week Three ────

Dacryphilia

Lee Bodecker x f!reader (any race)

Piercings

Bucky Barnes x f!reader (any race)

Begging/CNC

Ari Levinson x f!reader (any race)

Lingerie

Loki Laufeyson x f!reader (any race)

──── Week Four ────

Face Sitting/Deep Throating

Stucky x f!reader (any race)

Cock Rings

Steve Rogers x f!reader (any race)

Fingering/Cream Pie

Ari Levinson x f!reader (any race)

Costumes

Stucky x f!reader (any race)

I am discontinuing my taglist. Follow @lunarbucklibrary and turn on notifications to be notified when I post new writing. must be 18+

everything tags: @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @emi11ie @paulasocean @silverfire475 @lovingchoices14 @nekoannie-chan @late-to-the-party-81 @chibijusstuff @midnightramyeoncravings @wickidlady @buckyb-stan @adoreyouusugar @sebastianstanisagod @kayden666 @km-ffluv @winters1917 @buckysprettybaby @youdontknowmegls

kinktober tags: @purple-vegan @casa-boiardi @cope69seethe @writing-for-marvel

#jane’s writing #kinktober #fawktober2023 #kinktober 2023 #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve kemp x reader #loki x reader #sam wilson x reader #stucky x reader #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #steve kemp

[nicestgirlonline]

banner by @shadeysprings

Guide: 🖤 - dark content 🩷 - fluff ❤️‍🔥 - smut

Steal My Sunshine [Bucky Barnes x F!Reader] [TLOU AU]🖤

In the dark, dismal post apocalyptic world, you made the mistake of being a bright spot in Sergeant Barnes's day...

dumb dumb [Bucky Barnes x F!Reader] 🩷

Everyone can see the huge crush Bucky has on you…everyone except you of course.

sneaky [Bucky Barnes x F!Reader] 🩷

You and Bucky decide to keep your new relationship a secret with somewhat disastrous results (Sequel to dumb dumb)

Something Sweet [Bucky Barnes x F!Reader] [Sugarbaby AU]❤️‍🔥

A chance run in with a handsome stranger turns out to be the opportunity of a lifetime.

Let Me Hear You Scream [Bucky Barnes x F!Reader] [Scream AU]🖤❤️‍🔥

It’s the 90s so you actually answer the phone when you’re watching movies, but who's on the other end?

Wine and Dine [Steve Kemp x F!Reader] 🖤

You get stood up on your first date in forever, luckily the handsome Dr. Steve swoops in to save the day.

#masterlist #bucky barnes x reader #steve kemp x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #fresh fanfiction #nicestgirlonline #fanfiction #mdni

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Punishment » Steve Kemp

Pairings: Boyfriend!Steve Kemp x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Y/N suffers the consequences after flirting with Steve’s coworker.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, (f & m receiving), unprotected sex, daddy kink, bondage, praise kink, degrading, spanking (a few times), name calling (slut), use of pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Steve pinned you against the closed door as soon as the two of you walked inside of the house and wrapped his hand around your throat.

“I want you naked the second I get to our bedroom. Got it?” Steve whispers in your ear, sending chills through your body.

“Yes, Stevie.” You say submissively.

Steve let go of your throat and smacked your ass as you walked away. The second you got to yours and Steve’s bedroom, you immediately stripped out of your dress and panties. You sat on the bed and patiently waited for Steve. You watched as Steve walked into the bedroom, loosening his tie as he closed the door. He tossed his tie on the bed and motioned for you to come to him. You got off the bed and walked over to him. He gripped your chin and tilted your head up so you were looking into his beautiful blue eyes that are now filled with lust.

“Do you want to explain why you’re being punished, sweetheart?” Steve asks in almost a whisper.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” You say with a pout.

“So flirting with my coworkers isn’t doing anything wrong?” He asks.

“I was just being nice!” You say, defending yourself.

“Being nice doesn’t involve flirting.” He says.

His fingers left your chin to unbutton his white button up dress shirt. You watched as he took it off and dropped it on the floor.

“Get on your fucking knees, baby.” He orders.

“Yes, Stevie.” You say, sinking down to your knees.

“Yes what?” Steve asks.

“Yes, daddy.” You corrected yourself.

“Good girl.” He praises.

You watched with hungry eyes as he unbuckled his belt and got to work on his pants. He pulled his pants down, along with his boxers. His hard cock sprung out, his tip leaking with precum. You licked your lips at the sight of it.

“You want my cock, baby?” Steve asks, pumping it in his hand.

“Yes I do, daddy.” You say.

“Open that pretty mouth.” He says.

You opened your mouth just enough for Steve to slide his cock in your mouth. You wrapped your lips around him and began bobbing your head. Your eyes looked up at him with an innocent look. Steve tilted his head back, a moan leaving his lips.

“Fuck, baby.” Steve moans. “Are you trying to redeem yourself?” He asks, looking down at you.

You hummed in response, nodding your head slightly. Steve chuckles.

“It’s not gonna work this time, sweetheart.” He says.

Steve pulled your hair back in a makeshift ponytail and started moving his hips to thrust in your mouth. You gagged a little when his tip hit the back of your throat, but you quickly relaxed your throat so you can take him. Your hands gripped his thighs to steady yourself.

“You were a bad girl tonight.” He starts. “Flirting- oh fuck…” He moans. “Flirting with my coworkers all night and thinking you can get away with it.” He says with a chuckle.

Your nails dug in his thighs, trying to tell him that you need to breathe. Steve stopped thrusting in your mouth and took his cock out of your mouth to let you breathe, his hand still in your hair. You looked up at your boyfriend, breathing heavily with an innocent look on your face.

“Drop the innocent act. You and I both know that you’re a little slut.” Steve says.

You pouted. Steve tapped the tip of his cock against your bottom lip, smearing his precum on it.

“Open up, slut.” He says.

You opened your mouth again. Steve slid his cock back in your mouth and started thrusting in your mouth again. You tried your best to breathe through your nose while your hands remained on his thighs. You swallowed around his cock, earning a moan from him.

“Fuck!” Steve moans. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to cum.” He says.

Steve’s grip on your hair got tighter causing you to whimper. His thrusts became uneven when he felt his orgasm building up. Steve’s eyes fluttered shut as he tilted his head back. His mouth fell open, cursing loudly as he came in your mouth. He slowly pulled his cock out of your mouth. You swallowed his cum without him telling you to.

“You swallow all of it?” Steve asks, looking down at you.

“Yes, daddy.” You answered.

“Show me.” He says.

You opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue to show him that you swallowed everything.

“Good girl.” He praises. “On the bed.” He orders.

You obeyed him and laid down on your back.

“Arms above your head.” He says.

You put your arms above your head. You watched as Steve picked up his tie and tied it around your wrists against the headboard. You looked up at the tie on your wrists, tugging at it.

“Don’t even think about it, sweetheart. You’re not getting out of that anytime soon.” Steve says.

Steve leaned down and kissed your lips. He pulled away, lightly biting down on your bottom lip. He spread your legs apart and settled himself in between them. His hands slid up your waist to your breasts. His thumbs rubbed over your nipples .

“Since you decided to flirt with my coworkers like a little slut, I’m going to treat you like one.” Steve says.

His thumbs and index fingers pinched your nipples, sending a tingly sensation through your body. A moan left your lips.

“You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” He smirks.

You bit your bottom lip and nodded your head. Steve did it again, a louder moan left your lips. One of his hands left your breasts and went down to your wet pussy. His fingers rubbed through your wet folds to your clit. You bucked your hips for more, only for you to receive a smack on your thigh causing you to whimper.

“You know the rules, baby. No moving.” He says.

Steve rubbed your clit with his thumb while he slid two fingers in your tight entrance. Your jaw dropped, breathy moans left your lips.

“Did you want my coworkers doing this to you, sweetheart? Do you want them playing with your cute little body the way I do?” Steve asks.

“No!” You whined. “I don’t want them! Only you can do this to me, daddy!” You say.

Steve speeds up his fingers. You wiggled your hips for more, but that earned you another smack on your thigh. His thumb applied more pressure on your clit as he continued to rub it.

“You’re mine, understand?” He says possessively.

“Understand, daddy!” You said more in a whine, throwing your head back in pleasure.

“Good girl.” He praises. “Now, if you want to cum, you’re going to have to earn it.” He says.

You were about to protest, but you know the consequences if you do so you just looked at him with a pout. Steve’s free hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head back so you were looking up at him. His thumb rubbed across your lower lip. You parted your lips just enough for him to slide his thumb in your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his thumb and swirled your tongue around it as if it were his cock. Steve watched you with hungry eyes. His fingers fucked you faster. You moaned around his thumb, your eyes fluttering shut. Steve felt his cock get hard again. He was unable to take it anymore so he took his thumb out of your mouth, along with your pussy. He untied your wrists and flipped you over onto your hands and knees, almost manhandling you. Steve positioned himself behind you, giving your ass a smack. He lined his cock at your entrance and thrusted inside of you without warning.

“Stevie!” You moaned in a squeaky voice.

That earned you another smack on your ass.

“Daddy!” You corrected yourself.

His thrusts were hard and fast. His hands were holding onto your hips with a bruising grip.

“It’s like you wanted me to fuck you like a little slut so you flirted with my coworkers on purpose just to get what you want.” Steve pauses when a moan left his lips. “Tell me, sweetheart…” He starts. “Did you flirt with my coworkers on purpose just to get what you wanted?” He asks.

You let out a whine instead of answering him, but that wasn’t enough for him. That earned you a smack on your ass.

“You better answer me or you’re not cumming tonight.” He says, almost growling.

You opened your mouth to answer him, but a moan left your lips when his cock hit your sweet spot.

“I don’t hear you answering me.” He says, smacking your ass again.

“Yes!” You squeaked. “I flirted with your co- ah fuck! Coworkers on purpose just to get what I wanted!” You say, followed by a moan. “I’m sorry, daddy.” You apologized with a whimper.

“You’re way past sorry, honey.” He starts. “Now be a good girl take the rest of your punishment like the little slut you are for me.” He says lowly.

Your hands grasped the sheet underneath you, squeezing them tighter when his thrusts sped up. You arched your back in pleasure when his cock hit your sweet spot again. You arching your back created a new angle for Steve. His cock thrusted deeper in your pussy. One of his hands left your hip and found its way to your clit and began rubbing it fast. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head at the feeling. You cunt clenched around his cock when he applied more pressure on your clit. Your orgasm was building up quickly.

“Daddy, please I- fuck! Please let me cum!” You begged with a whimper.

“You were a bad girl tonight. I don’t think you deserve to cum.” Steve says.

You were about to fall over the edge. His fingers continued to rub your clit roughly and his cock kept hitting your sweet spot.

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! I’m yours! Please let me cum, daddy!” You begged.

“That’s right, sweetheart. You’re mine.” Steve practically growls. “Cum for daddy.” He says.

Your hands squeezed the sheets tighter as a loud moan left your lips when you came. Steve wasn’t too far behind you. He came after a few thrusts. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He pulled out of you and laid down next to you, pulling you closer to him. You two laid there panting.

“I really am sorry for flirting with your coworkers. I just wanted your attention.” You tell him.

“You should’ve told me. I would’ve given you all of my attention.” Steve says.

You guys laid there in each other’s arms for a moment before Steve carried you to the bathroom for a warm bath to clean the two of you up. Then you guys finally went to bed and cuddled.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

#steve kemp #fresh 2022 #fresh movie #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #steve kemp x female reader #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x y/n #steve kemp x you #steve kemp smut #steve kemp one shot #steve kemp imagine

[sstan-hoe]

𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔, 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒂, 𝑨𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏!

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — pornstar!lloyd hansen x fem!pornstar!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You’re new in the industry and to the surprise of your boss and yourself you climbed the ranks in only a few months. Now you can act with the big stars and the first one is a complete asshole

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — SMUT, minors dni., unprotected sex (well reader is on pill), gagging, choking, oral (f&m receiving) p in v, rough sex, degrading, slight dumbification.

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — let's start vanilla on Lloyd here! @georgiapeach30513, like, reblog and comment! yeah I started a porn production and they have plots!!! I know, I know, something like this wow! But I want you to feel with them and I don't mean you masturbating. divider by @firefly-graphics

Being a porn star wasn’t your first choice of career, but the student loans had to be paid somehow. Your friend had set you up with the CEO of Barbers production who she knew as her boss.

It took her some convincing, she told you all about the perks; how it payed good, your safety and consent was first priority. For research purposes you googled some of the actors and all of them looked like they were made by gods.

You had known her since your first year at college and that was five years ago.

Not once had she mentioned anything about her job besides how busy, stressful, or free her schedule was. To be honest you always thought she was just jobless and lived on her parents money, but she was too proud to say it.

She gave you a date for an interview as soon as you told her you were ready, leaving you to wonder how long she had set it up.

When you met with the CEO Andy Barber, he gave you a list of kinks, a contract that also stated they took care of the health meaning his firm would pay for any costs. The list with kinks was for you to decide all the no go’s, what you were comfortable with and if wanted to add things.

After all was done, he showed you all his actors and with whom you start and their preferences. It was only a few, some you had already seen on your research like Ransom Drysdale or Air Levinson.

Out of curiosity you asked Andy if he was an actor too which earned you a heartfelt laugh. He answered with yes, but said he stopped three to four years ago.

With the contract signed and the first date set you were sent home.

All this was six months ago and today was your first time shooting with one of Barbers most popular stars; Lloyd Hansen.

You had heard a lot about him and saw him at a Christmas party once. Lloyd was a pure asshole, always made side remarks, treated people like crap and thought he was better than everyone.

However, he shared the top with Ari Levinson and Steve Kemp. Add to that, that he didn’t get along with anyone but Nick Fowler and Andy though that might only be because he’s the boss. About the others he had his opinions.

Now here you were on your way to the set in your pink bathing robe. Your thoughts are running wild, a part of you was excited about doing this but the other part not so much.

“Hey there! I’m your director Carter Baizen and I know you’re familiar with the procedure but I gotta do it. So, if you are uncomfortable in any way then we use the traffic light system. For green and yellow you can just whisper it with Lloyd, should he not hear it and the say it loud. For red say it out loud. Got it?”

“Got it.” You nodded. Consent is the most important part at Barbers Production, and everyone had to respect that.

You walked over to the scene, it was in a nice living room with a bedroom next to it and a build in kitchen. The storyline was about a stepfather fucking his stepdaughter which to be honest was gross but then yet again it was your job, and it wasn’t real.

A second later Lloyd walked in wearing a white bathing robe and a smug smirk on his lips.

“Lloyd my guy! You ready? Now as you know we use the traffic light system. Green and yellow you can whisper to one another unless the other doesn’t hear then loud, red of course always loud. Also, as you it’s her first time with you I want you to do little check-ups in between. Got it?” Carter instructed Lloyd who gave him a ‘got it’.

“Well hello sunshine. Ready to have the best sex in your life?” He asked cocking his eyebrow and the smirk still sitting on his lips. “Oh, I didn’t know I was shooting with Ari,” you responded knowing Lloyd always tried to be better than Ari.

Though this rival thing was going on since Lloyd and Ari started here at the production.

He became popular in the bdsm scene – you weren’t going to deep into this today – which gave him a massive advantage.

Lloyd’s expression changed into a glare, “mouthy little thing,” he muttered under his breath. “One remark makes me mouthy? What you’re not used to someone not crawling up your ass…” “Well certainly not from woman however mostly it me crawling up their asses.”

The smirk was back on his face and your turned into a disgusted expression. “When you get paid enough you do even the most disgusting things,” you replied lifting your chin.

“You forget here sunshine that if they don’t want to, they don’t have too…”

Carter watched the two of you bickering and one thing was for sure, you two had tension, chemistry which wasn’t the most important thing in the industry but definitely a plus. He had to admit that pairing the two of you was a fifty-fifty chance. From Andy he knew that you didn’t take shit from anyone including Lloyd. So, either this was legendary or catastrophic.

“Really? Your trash stash says something different, you look like a pervert.” Dammit what had he missed? Carter only spaced out for a short minute.

In Lloyd’s eyes Carter could see this was about to escalate. “You better-“ “Hey! Hey…how about we start shooting? Y/n you’re gonna walk around in your nighties and try to seduce Lloyd, no luck so we move to the shower where you try again, he leaves and lastly you guys have sex in the living room.”

“Wait people really like that?” you questioned before this you hadn’t shot a stepfamily video. Carter looked down a bit ashamed, “yeah, yeah they do.” Giving him a quite ‘wow’ you put away the bathing robe.

Lloyd put away his robe to revealing him in only a pair of swim shorts. Your eyes drifted over his perfectly sculptured, toned abbs. “Sunshine, I think you’re staring at me,” Lloyd’s voice made your eyes shoot up to his, “good thing you don’t get paid for thinking.”

“Okay, everyone get in position! We’re filming in five, four, three, two, one and action!” Carter yelled over the set.

You put on a seductive smile as you walked over to Lloyd who was leaning against the kitchen counter. Shaking your hips, you took slow steps forward. “Hey there daddy,” you said stroking your hand over his biceps which was surprisingly smooth.

He was quick to react and pushed you away from him, “wow! What are you doing? If you’re mom sees that.” Lloyd took a few steps backwards.

“Don’t worry she out for a trip with her friends and you have me all to yourself,” you didn’t know what you were doing. “I’m your stepfather! This can’t happen.” “Come on live a little daddy!” you called out with excitement. “Stop calling me that,” Lloyd demanded before walking away.

Leaving you in the kitchen with a pout. You sat down on the couch with a huff and turned the tv on. Shortly after you hear the shower start running and your lips curled into a smirk.

Stripping from your soft lilac night gown you exposed your naked body to the camera.

Quietly you walked to the bathroom, peaking the door open you could see Lloyd’s naked form. Your eyes drifted down to his erected cock which he was slowly stroking. You might hate him, but goddamn did you like what you were seeing.

Slowly you walked up behind him. The shower was open, and you could easily come up behind him without him noticing.

Lloyd groaned lowly as he rubbed his dick, he wouldn’t admit it, but your fierce energy made him this hard. His head dipped back the warmth of the shower consuming him in his pleasure.

You snaked your hand around Lloyd and put it around his dick gently following his movements. Peppering kisses along his back you moved his hand away from his erection.

“Yeah, keep going love,” “mhm try again daddy…” you whispered against the shell of his ear. Instantly Lloyd’s eye snapped open, and he fled from your grip.

“The fuck are you doing here? Fucking shit and cover yourself!” he threw a towel your way which you dodged. “Oh, come on I know you wanna fuck me,” you stepped closer backing him against the sink.

Lloyd had a hard time resisting you but couldn’t break character, “it doesn’t matter if I want to or not. You are my stepdaughter, I’m married to your mother!”

Your hands cradled his face, “she never has to know. We’re not blood, we can do what we want…” lips ghosting over his. “Give it to me…fuck me…fuck me rough, make me cry, fuck me until I can’t walk,” you begged him clawing your hands on his broad shoulders.

A growl came past his lips and Lloyd grabbed your hips pulling you flush against him. “Fine. You want me to fuck you rough? Make you cry like a little girl and treat you like a filthy whore?” “Yes, yes please daddy-.” He turned you around pushing you against the sink.

“Call me daddy again and you can’t sit straight for a week,” Lloyd hissed while one of his hands landed a firm slap on your ass. A gasp escaped you in response.

“Understood?” “Understood…” “Sir you call me sir and if you don’t you get punished.”

Lloyd dragged you to the bedroom and threw you on the bed. You smirked at him as you pushed up and your elbows and spread your legs giving him a perfect view on your pussy.

With a mischiefs smile Lloyd grabbed your ankles drawing you to the edge of the king-sized bed. “What a slutty pussy do we have here huh? I didn’t even touch you yet and here you are dripping like the whore you are….” His words send shivers down your spine.

Letting his finger trail up your body he moved above you. Grabbing him by the neck, you pulled him down for a hungry kiss. Whining into his mouth desperately.

Everything to stay in role you thought to yourself. You didn’t necessarily have to kiss your fellow actors unless in fitted the role you were given and here it wasn’t required.

Without thinking Lloyd kissed you back, the same thought running through his mind.

His hands moved down to your wrists taking them from himself. One of his hands gripped both of your wrists as the other longed for the belt that laid a few inches away from your head. He tied your wrist together having to poke another hole in the belt.

Going back down he was eye to eye with your cunt. His hands gripped your thighs, and he lapped your pussy like a starved man. Moaning loudly, you wiggled against the belt.

You wanted to touch him, grip his hair, and shove his face deeper inside you. His moustache teases your bundle in the best kind of way.

However as much as you loved the way he made you feel, you hated it. You hated him with your guts, but that man knew what he was doing, and you enjoyed it. His tongue circled your hole before diving in. One hand let go of your thigh and joined his tongue.

Two fingers curling inside of you while his tongue played with you bundle of nerves. You squeezed his fingers when they hit your sensitive spot. “Damn such a tight cunt for such a whore. If two of my fingers barley fit, how are you gonna take my fat cock?”

“Oh, but I know a slut like you would do everything for a cock wouldn’t she? A dumb whore who doesn’t know better is only after cock,” he continued.

Slowing down his movements Lloyd admired your torn expression.

He loved that he could see how conflicted you were with him giving you this kind of pleasure and still hating him.

Letting out a high-pitched whine as Lloyd didn’t stop teasing you, you tried rolling your hips for more pleasure. Instead, his hand pushed your hips back down, “little slut…are that desperate? What you wanna come? Want your sir to relieve you?”

Quickly you nodded your head not able to form words. “Words whore.” Lloyd slapped your cunt the moment he didn’t hear any words from you. “Yes, sir I want you to relieve me.”

“What a shame I don’t want to,” he said and stood up. Whining you reached for him with your hips longing for his sinful mouth again. “No, the only way you’re coming today is on my cock because that what a whore like you wants right? The only thing you think about all day is to be a whore for a cock.”

The tip of his dick graced your leaking hole using the juice from as lube. Without warning you he pushed himself inside stretching you out.

His hands rested on either side of your head, “fuck tight as a virgin. How is your cunt still this tight when you’re such a slut.” Groaning he seated himself deeper into your pussy.

“Move, please move sir…” you whimpered. Complying Lloyd moved back and forth, the first few thrusts went slow and then he rutted into you. For better grip he wrapped his right hand around your throat.

With Lloyd destroying your pussy, whispering the dirtiest words in your ear, and hitting all the right spots at the same time you felt the familiar knot building in your stomache.

Clenching your walls together around Lloyd's cock causing a loud moan from his lips to escape. He squeezed your throat in response.

Here you were making the filthiest noises when Lloyd could break everything with the sound of his moan. Never in your life before had you heard a sound that turned you on like this.

“Does the sound of my moan turn you into a little slut? Oh no, wait! You already are a slut!” you wanted to answer him but all that came from you was a blabbering sound.

“Oh, have I fucked you dumb already?” He questions with a mocking pout.

You tried shaking your head as much as you could with Lloyd's hand laced around your throat. “I-I come…sir come I” you stammered around.

The sound of flesh slapping together could be heard around the entire set. “You wanna come? Then work for it whore,” with that he turned you around.

He laid on his back with you sitting on his cock. The sudden change of position and angle making you moan pornograficly.

His cock hit spots that you didn't even know about until now.

Taking a deep breath you began moving your hips in circular motions. “Are you this dumb or do just act like it? Are you a dumb fucking whore? Are you so dumb that you can't even ride me properly?”

His hand went back to your hips moving them up and down while pushing his hips against yours.

The tight grip caused bruises, and the realization got you close to the edge.

“Cum for me little slut, cum for your sir like a whore should.”

You collapsed on Lloyd from the intense orgasm he gave you. You already knew you were going to sleep for hours after this and to be honest you could sleep already.

“Now don't fall asleep on me whore, you still have to make me cum.” He pushed you away from him to stand up.

His erection glistening with your cum, gripping your hair he pulled you to him.

“Open your mouth,” he demanded. Doing so he directly pushed his cock into your mouth. You could taste your own cum mixed with his pfecum, having you pussy thrombin.

Lloyd brutally fucked your throat. For a moment stopped to let you gag on his cock causing tears to spring in your eyes.

“Whores don't get to breathe,” he told you.

You whimpered wanting his cum already. As if he heard your thoughts Lloyd let go and fucked his cum down your throat admiring the bulge he made. A relieved moan coming from his soft lips.

A moment of silence fell between the two of you. Making eye contact felt like another world.

Then Carter's loud ‘cut’ rang through the set. “Amazing!!! You can put the robes back on, shower and leave for the day! Oh, y/n how was it? Would you do it again? Maybe go a bit more into bdsm this time?”

You looked at him with a tired smile as you put the robe back on. “Yeah sure! However I would start slowly if that's okay?”

Carter waved you off, “of course that's okay! I gotta see…we could start with Fowler…” before he could finish you interrupted him. “We don't have to do it right now! Just schedule something with Bunny and text me.” You told him and walked away for a needed shower.

Lloyd watched you take off, “you give her to anyone but me and I will have you fired,” he whispered to Carter.

Speechless he watched Lloyd walk away wearing a satisfied smirk.

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[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—”

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x f!reader #so good so bad #the gray man #chris evans characters #dark fic #horror fic #beanie's freaktober fest #freaktober fest #shadeysprings fics

[thebluemage]

Marking What’s His

Pairing | Doctor!Steve Kemp x female reader

Warning | Explicit sexual content, 18+, smut, possessiveness, fingering (f receiving), established relationship with Doctor!Steve and girlfriend!patient reader, doctor/girlfriend!patient dynamic, orgasm control, edging, bondage, overstimulation, use of pet names (Bunny), light choking, biting kink, use of sex toys, aftercare, Steve Kemp (he’s a warning on his own!)

Summary | Steve doesn’t like it when another man touches you, and he shows you what happens.

Word Count | 2650

A/N | I’m perpetually horny because of writing this. I couldn’t help myself! Beta’d by the amazing @christine-the-soprano-31​, 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 had given you free reign of the house, and tonight, he’d invited you to come to a charity event with him for work. He introduced you to many of his colleagues. One of them was a young, well skilled surgeon, and you guessed that he took a liking to you because he’d made some small talk while patting your shoulder every now and then. Steve noticed it immediately and shot a pointed look in your direction, his eyes not leaving you for the rest of the night. The event was lovely and beautiful otherwise, until you and Steve went out to the car; that’s when the arguing began.

You burst in through the front door angry and agitated. Steve had been glaring at you all evening, ever since that colleague had approached you and made small talk with you.

“For the last time Steve. He was just friendly to me. And you should know that, because he’s your fucking colleague!” You yell at him.

“I don’t fucking care if he’s my colleague. He was flirting with you!” He accuses.

“God, can you stop insinuating things for just one second and listen—”

Steve cuts your words off as he approaches you and collides his mouth into yours very hard. You gasp out a breath before you’re putty in his hands. A delighted whimper slips from your lips and you attach your hands around his neck. He grabs your jaw firmly and authoritatively to make you look at him.

“No baby, you listen to me. I know what he’s like, and he was constantly eyeing you and giving you looks. And I should fire him for it.” He says sternly, fury eminent in his voice.

“Why are you mad at me, then?” You ask, discombobulated.

“Because you let it happen.” He says through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched as his eyes turn darker with every word.

Your eyes go wide at his statement.

“What? That’s unfair!”

He grabs you by the throat and squeezes his fingers around you, his thumb grazing along as he drags you up against the wall, trapping you against it.

“Maybe if I punish you, it’ll help you remember who you belong to next time, darling.” He grunts while his other hand roams along your body. He quickly finds your dampening panties and rubs at them slowly. You sigh out a prolonged mewl.

“Such a needy little Bunny, aren’t you?” His voice is laced in sultriness as he licks a stripe from your throat to your cheek and nibbles on your jaw.

“Basement. Now. Enter my lab, and wait for further instructions.” He orders when he lets you go. You avert your eyes to the floor as you obey his orders and walk down the stairs to the basement. 

You open the door to his lab, the familiar odor entering your nostrils as soon as you step through the threshold. You look around the room; it seems that nothing has changed, as if it was only yesterday when you first found yourself here. Echoes of footsteps follow down the stairs, you turn around to see Steve in scrubs, a stethoscope hanging loosely around his neck. You already know what this is going to be. 

“Lay on the exam table for me, my patient,” he commands you. His tone of voice is firm and contained, leaving you breathless. You swallow the lump in your throat and obediently follow his orders once again. You lay yourself on the table, your demeanor calm and collected. You already know how the procedure goes. He looks down at you with a broad smile.

“Good girl. First, I’m going to give you a checkup and then we’ll get to work,” he explains as he puts the stethoscope in his ears. He presses the diaphragm to your chest, listening to your heart. 

He sighs lovingly, his face merely inches away from yours, looking at you as though he is completely entranced by the melody of your heart; by the unique melody of your body. 

“If you could only hear how pretty your heart sounds. Here, listen to it,” he murmurs as he takes the buds out of his ears and puts them in yours. He puts the diaphragm in your hand and places his hand over yours, guiding it around your chest. You hear the sound of your steady heart, producing a rhythmic and composed tone.

“It’s beautiful, and therefore, you are beautiful.” He takes the stethoscope from you, and you suddenly find yourself lost in his cerulean gaze, his face still inches from yours. He smiles contentendly and continues his routine, distancing himself again.

“Alright, everything is perfect. My Bunny is nice and healthy. Now, you already know how this works. Go ahead and undress yourself,” Steve instructs. 

“Yes, Steve.” You reply softly, giving him a bashful smile. He gives you a gown to put on and you go behind the partition and quickly change into it. You come back to him as he beckons you to his exam table again. Everything is in place for him to begin as you lie back down. 

“Since this is a punishment, I have to restrict you from any movements,” he says before grabbing your ankles and pulling until your hips are at the edge of the table. He straps your legs and thighs into the stirrups, already exposing your throbbing pussy to the icy air of the lab. Next, he moves to strap your wrists above your head.

“Bunny, do you recall how many times he touched you?” His broad frame hovers above you, as you look up at him in anticipation.

“Uhhh…5 times, maybe?” You say, trying to recount thoughtfully.

His eyes darken at your words. 

“You’re getting edged 5 times,” he affirms, his tone like ice. “Now, give me a random number.”

“8.”

“Great, I’m going to edge you 5 times, and I’m going to bite into you 8 times and let you come 8 times. You think you can handle that, Bunny?” He asks you assuringly, talking to you as though you’re a patient at his practice.

“I–I think I can,” you say with a little uncertainty.“Hmm, of course you can,” he says, while he smiles and softly tucks a lone strand of hair behind your ear.

You look at him as he rolls the cart to his side and picks up a scalpel from the tray. 

“Let me see what you’ve got here, my little bunny. There’s no need to be shy over it, you’re safe here with me,” he says. He cuts all the way through the gown, leaving you completely bare. He slowly lingers the blade just above the surface, tracing intricate patterns along your smooth skin. Your skin prickles and your breath hitches in your throat.

“It’s time,” he announces. He puts the scalpel back on the cart and instead picks up a magic wand, turning it on to the lowest setting. He trails the vibrator along your nipples until they perk up and then travels lower, until he settles it between your thighs.

“No! Please!” you whine out. Tears run down your face as you feel your near orgasm ebbing away again.

“Shh, shh. You’re doing so great, my sweet patient,” he coos tenderly while leaving soft kisses along your thighs.

“Please, Doctor. I–I need to come! I need it. I-I crave it! Aah!” you plead, completely out of breath. 

“But you sound too angelic for me to end it so soon,” he teases.

“Please, please, please. I’d do anything you ask of me. Fuck! Anything!” you beg rapidly. You’re tugging against the restraints holding you in place.

“Huh, anything I ask of you?” he confirms. You give a desperate nod.  

“Well, you’re in luck because I’m asking you to cum for me.” He places the magic wand right to your core and switches it to the highest setting.

“Oh, Aah! Fuck!” You squeal when you feel the intense vibrations. You buck your hips upward, chasing the reverberation that sets your soul on fire.

“You know, maybe I should mark you. You always look so pretty when I mark you up. so everyone knows that you’re mine, all mine,” he muses. He lowers himself so his lips are at your neck, and you can feel his hot breath near the shell of your ear.

“I need you to say it, Bunny. Say that you want me to bite you,” he whispers seductively in your ear.

“Pl-please Steve, I need you to bite me!” you beg, your voice on the verge of an orgasm.

“Good girl,” he praises. He brings his lips to the crook of your neck and bites into you, leaving you with a red, lingering bite mark.

You let out a breathless moan, feeling delirious in the midst of this ongoing ecstasy. You arch your back from the table and your body begins to stutter as you sense another orgasm coming.

“You’re so gorgeous when you writhe like that, but I want to bet you’re even more marvelous when you come, so cum for me.”

“Shit! Yes, yes, yes! Oooohh!” you wail out as you feel pulses of bliss rushing through your body, enrapturing you completely. Your wetness drips out to your thighs.

“Yes, just like that, beautiful. I love it when you lose control like that bunny,” Steve asserts. He caresses your face as he puts the magic wand on the cart.

You breathe heavily, feeling yourself coming down from your salacious high. You close your eyes for a few moments and open them again when you feel the cold diaphragm of a stethoscope on your chest. 

“I hear your heart thundering, but the storm isn’t over yet, my love,” he says while looking at you with depraved eyes. “I’m doing this research for your pleasure, and only yours. Your body fascinates me like no other has. You know that, right?” he asks, his voice demanding confirmation. 

“Yes, of course I know that, Steve. I–” You get cut off when you feel Steve’s mouth around one of your nipples. He runs his tongue along its tip while still listening to your heart. You gasp a hitched breath, quivering with excitement.

“Captivating, just captivating,” he mumbles, utterly fixated on your body. He puts the stethoscope away and begins to fondle your other breast. A snivel slips from your mouth while your body releases another gush of slick, wetting your core even more. Steve proceeds to bite into your chest, leaving a red bite mark under your collarbone and making you hiss with unparalleled hunger from deep within you. His hands roam all over your body, enrapturing you in comfort and warmth while coaxing another orgasm from you. 

He lowers down until his head reaches your core and greedily licks long and lasting trails around it. He flicks on your clit multiple times before he sucks at it hard. You can only whimper against his never ending onslaught.

“You’re so wet, my sweet patient. I’m taking such good care of you. Now, be a good girl and cum for me again,” he commands. You feel his teeth bite into your thigh and soothe it with licks. Your face contorts as you feel another wave of gratifying bliss surrounding you. You weep out another luscious whine when you feel his fingers entering your cunt.

“You can do one more, can’t you bunny?” he says with a wicked smirk. “Come on, sweetheart. You can do this, just one more.” He gives an encouraging hum.

“I– It’s a lot. Too much!” you answer. Words tumble incoherently out of your mouth. Your whole body glistens and shudders with excessive delight.

“I know, I know. You’re taking it so well, and you can do this. I know what your body is capable of. And I’m here to help you through this. Maybe this will take you over the edge,” he says. He bites against your thighs twice.

The coil in your gut snaps as a legion of shock waves travels through your body. You scream in utter satisfaction. Your back arches high off the table while your body convulses uncontrollably. Only when you collapse against the table does your body finally go still, Heavy breaths echo through the lab and you close your eyes to rest for a bit. You feel warm hands releasing you from your restraints, and those same warm hands caress you gently.

“Do you feel any pain?” You hear the focus in Steve’s voice as he moves your exhausted frame so that you’re sitting up on the table. You lean heavily against him, using his body to hold yourself up.

“No. I–I just feel a little sore,” you answer back, exhausted.

“It took a toll on you, didn’t it? Come here.” He pulls you into his arms and embraces you into a soothing hug. You always feel safe and secure in his arms. As if nothing could ever hurt you when you’re enveloped in them. His arms are your safe place.

“I just wanted to prove myself to you, because I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“What are you talking about? You could never disappoint me, Bunny. Your body takes what it can take, and if you feel like you can’t, don’t hesitate to use your safeword. All I ever want is for you to be comfortable and safe. I want you to enjoy yourself when I’m doing my research.” He cradles your face between his big hands and strokes your face delicately.

“You did so well for me, my sweet patient. I’m so proud of you,” he declares. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before carrying you out of the lab, through the hallway, and all the way to the bedroom.

He lays you down on the soft bed and goes to the bathroom to grab a wet cloth to clean you up. He moves the cloth as gently as he can over your body, kneading your muscles underneath and making you relax instantly.

“How are you feeling right now?” he asks.

“Better, at least I’m not sore anymore,” you reply.

“Here, let me massage you,” he says while kneading your muscles expertly. 

“Thank you, Steve,” you sigh thankfully.

“What for?”

“For taking such great care of me, I’m so grateful to have you.”

“Anything for my patient. For my love,” Steve says as he traces every contour of your body. He moved to lay beside you, caressing your skin delicately with his fingertips, as if it were made out of porcelain. He nuzzles closer to you as he cuddles with you, burying your face into his neck.

“I’m so sorry for being jealous, but I can’t help myself. I need you to understand that I’m possessive when it comes to you, my sweet patient. Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you, except for me. You’re mine and mine only and I love you. I love you with everything I have. You’re my world, and I’d give you the universe,” he confesses while he holds you close.

“It’s okay, I understand. If I were you, I’d be like this too,” you laugh to lighten the mood. “And I love you too, Steve. You’re my lighthouse to guide me through my darkest nights, my safe place to feel sound and secure, my home to come back to. I love you so much that my heart aches when you’re not around me.” You look deep into his eyes as you speak, once again finding yourself lost in their depth. 

“God. You’re so perfect,” he says, looking at you. 

You trace the remaining bite marks on your neck. “Well at least, now everyone will know that I’m yours,” you tease with a giggle. You throw a leg around him, feeling loved and cherished. And that’s all that matters to you; you are loved, you are cherished, and you are his. 

#thebluemage writes #thebluemage writings #mage writes #mage writings #steve kemp #doctor!steve kemp #steve kemp x female reader #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x you #steve kemp x y/n #steve kemp fanfiction #steve kemp smut #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan fanfiction #fanfiction #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"First Taste"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Kemp x reader

Tags: doctor/patient, medical kink, body image issues, oral sex (f!rec), fingering, dub-con, pussy worship, (inference of background cannibalism (b/c it's Fresh), but nothing to do with the plot or reader)

Summary: Steve Kemp sees a new patient for a consult about a rather ... intimate procedure.

Steve gets into the office at his usual time, coffee cup in hand as he catches the elevator. He sees Cassie jogging in from across the lobby in her colorful scrubs and holds the door for her. They greet one another amicably and ask how each other’s weekend was. She tells him about her new kickboxing class, he tells her about the pâté he made on Saturday.

“Liver?” She says dubiously as the two of them enter the office. She’s wrinkling her nose and laughing at him. “You’re some kind of Chef, Kemp.”

“I prefer the term gourmand. By the way is that Barbie on your—”

“Yep.” She goes behind the nurse’s station and hands him a clipboard. “Your morning appointments. Dr. Hickory went into early labor at like four am, so you’ve got some of hers.”

Steve’s eyebrows raise as he takes the clipboard and gives it a look. “What is she, thirty-eight weeks?”

“Thirty-seven.”

“Should be fine,” he mumbles. He frowns at one of the patient slots on his clipboard. “I see I have an FGM consult at eleven,” he says, eyes flicking peevishly back up to Cassie.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” she says, checking on her computer. “Yeah, Ms. Moreau. Be nice, she’s new.”

Steve narrows his eyes at the info. “You know I’ve tried to get away from doing those anymore,” he says, giving Cassie a look. Everybody in the office knows how he has a problem with the fact that Hickory’s turned their office into such a chop shop. Steve would’ve thought a woman would know better. Female solidarity, progressiveness, autonomy, kumbaya, whatever.

Cassie rolls her eyes at him. “Yeah yeah. Dr. Brendan the activist.”

“Hey, I told you, it’s—”

“‘Pathologizing the pussy’,” she recites with finger quotes. “We know.”

“Mm,” Steve grunts, assumes the ‘we’ is in reference to all the nurses at the practice. Those girls share a level of groupthink that is frankly eerie.

Steve works in plastics. He’s a vain man himself, so he knows he shouldn’t have gotten involved in a career field like this if he wasn’t prepared to be surrounded by other people’s body insecurities 24/7. It’s just… not how he pictured it.

Good thing he’s got this new side business venture going. He’s hopeful about it. Just last month he’d been able to send in the final payment for his student loans. Pretty soon he’ll have enough to get a house. He's entertaining the idea of a custom build, still scouting properties south of Portland. “I’ll see you later,” he tells Cassie. “Send my nine o’clock to exam three when they get here.”

“You got it.”

You arrive early for your appointment, plunking yourself down in the waiting room chair after the long walk from the train. You feel unpleasantly sticky underneath the cotton of your sundress. The office is cool, but it’d been hot outside. The near-boiling summer temperatures made you work up a sweat as you made your way across the city for this appointment.

Now, sitting in the chair, you can feel the sweat that’s formed on your body. It’s at your hairline, between your breasts and at the creases of your inner thighs. You worry about it, because soon you’ll be baring yourself to the doctor and you had specifically showered right before leaving for your apartment, used a pH balanced feminine hygiene product, just in case you were somehow scent blind to your own body. You didn’t want to be sweaty and gross when Dr. Hickory was going to be looking down there.

“Miss?” The receptionist smiles at you, holding out a clipboard from over the desk. “You need to fill this out, please.”

You stand, hurrying to go get it and the pen that she offers you as well. “Sorry,” you murmur. They’d told you that you would need to be there fifteen minutes early for paperwork. You return to your chair, feeling like such a hot sweaty mess, whereas the receptionist lady is so pretty and poised. You tuck some of your blonde hair back behind your ears and cross your ankles in an attempt to be even a fraction as put together as she is, you powder blue espadrilles knocking together as you prop the clipboard on your lap.

The office’s air conditioning is making the perspiration cool to your skin now, clammy and unpleasant. You read over the intake forms and fill them out. The second page has a line drawing of a naked woman’s body, front and back. It asks you to circle the areas you’re there to address. You bite your lip and circle the drawing’s pelvis. The anxiety you tend to get creeps back up on you, but you take a deep breath and let it out. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Dr. Hickory does this all the time. It’s her speciality. She will have seen it all, and you’ll be nothing new to her.

The door to the waiting room opens and a younger woman in hot pink scrubs peeks her head through. “Ms. Moreau?” she says brightly. She has café au lait skin, wild curly hair, and a genuine smile that helps put you at ease.

“That’s me.” You stand up, the only person in the waiting room. “Obviously,” you chuckle, grabbing your purse and following after her.

“I’m Cassie,” she introduces herself. “Hop on up here and let’s get your weight.” You step on the scale backwards and open your mouth to tell her that you don’t need to know the number, but Cassie cuts you off with a wry look. “Don’t worry,” she says, thumbing at her own chest. “I know how it is, girl.”

You flush and nod, glad that you don’t have to veer into that explanation. She records your weight on her clipboard and tells you to follow her to an exam room. Inside, she hands you a painfully thin paper gown and tells you that you can change. You fidget uncomfortably. “Um, actually I wore a dress so that she could just…” you make a gesture, “ah, dive right in. Is it alright if I just stay like this?”

Cassie nods and doesn’t try to foist the paper gown on you any further. “Have a seat,” she tells you. “The doctor is just finishing up with another patient.”

“Okay,” you whisper, getting up onto the exam table. After Cassie leaves, you look around the room, taking everything in. You’ve never been in a plastic surgeon’s office before. Everything looks just like any other doctor’s office would, except that instead of posters talking about BMI and heart disease, there are advertisements for laser therapies and Botox.

You spot a tray of breast implants over on a counter and can’t stop yourself from going over to look. You pick one up and poke at it, feeling it wobble in your hand. You giggle a little, before bringing it up to hold in front of your chest. Your own breasts haven’t ever bothered you much. They’re small-ish but have a good shape. One of your exes had complimented them excessively (though other parts had received thinly-veiled criticism). You pick up another of the implants, this one bigger and more viscous, and hold the two shapes up to each of your breasts, trying to imagine what it would look like…

“I wouldn’t recommend either of those for you,” a male voice cuts in, and you nearly jump out of your skin.

You spin around. You’re still holding the implants near your chest, startled as you blink at the man who’s entered the room. He’s wearing a doctor’s coat over scrubs, and his nametag says Brendan Kemp, MD. The bigger of the two implants rolls out of your lax hand, landing with a comical ‘plop’ right by your shoe. “Oh jeez. I’m sorry!” you say in a hurry, feeling like a child who’s gotten caught doing something bad. You rush to bend down and collect the implant from the floor. “Sorry I was just—”

The man steps closer with a smirk on his lips and gleaming eyes. He seems amused at you. “Everybody wants to grab the boobies,” he says, gently taking the implants out of your hands and setting them back onto the tray on the counter. “You’re fine, Ms. Moreau.”

You blink at him, stuck in place. He knows your name. “Oh,” you say, voice hushed, still embarrassed. This doctor is very good looking. He has a commanding presence, too. Something about his eyes draws you in, makes you want to be the object of his attention. He smiles warmly at you, perfect teeth flashing for a second, and you huff at yourself and try to laugh off your foolishness. “Yeah,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “Guess I was just curious.”

“Hey, at least you weren’t juggling them. I walked in on that, once.” He winks. “What’s your accent? French Canadian?”

“Ah, y-yeah. I’m from—” You watch as he barely listens to your answer, his eyes sliding down to the level of your chest and staying there, assessing. You flush under the scrutiny. But you don’t feel like you can move away without being rudely dismissive. You squirm, uncomfortable. “Um, I’m not—”

“I’m Dr. Kemp,” he murmurs offhandedly, still staring at your chest. You see his hands twitch, as if he’s thinking of touching, but stopping himself. “A woman with your frame wouldn’t look right with ones that big,” he says, meaning the implants you’d just been holding.

You feel the need to defend your own taste. “Oh I know that. I wasn’t—”

“These,” he says softly, taking one of the more modestly sized implants from the tray and holding it up in front of you to see. You’re caught looking more at the sight of his strong, elegant fingers than you are the implant. “These would suit you better. Though I honestly wouldn’t recommend augmentation for you.” His eyes finally return to your face. “Your breasts are lovely.”

You feel your lips part in shock. “Um…” you feel an odd combination of flattery and confusion. Is it normal for a doctor to talk to a patient like this? Maybe it’s different with plastic surgeons, you think. They are paid to focus on their patients’ looks, after all. Comments on what is and isn’t aesthetically pleasing must be par for the course, here. “Thank you?”

But then there’s his gaze, the way he stares at you. It feels like he’s not just looking at your body for his job, but also looking for himself, as well. There’s too much interest there to be purely professional. Your breath catches when you feel your nipples starting to tighten beneath your dress, and sure enough, when you glance down they’re very visible through the fabric. Shit. You see Kemp’s eyes look back down.

“Sorry,” you say in a rush, turning away from his assessing gaze. You should’ve worn a bra, you chide yourself. You try to take a deep, stabilizing breath while you have your back to him. “I’m here for… for something else.” You look down at your pebbled nipples, which aren’t softening as much as you’d like, and you sigh in defeat. No doubt Dr. Kemp has seen plenty of nipples in his day. You need to just get over it. You turn around and climb back up to sit on the exam table, the paper crinkling under your butt as you settle. “I’m just waiting for Doctor Hickory,” you explain. “For a consult. They said she’s with another patient.”

Dr. Kemp sighs and holds up his clipboard. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. I’ll be seeing you today.”

“What?” You sit up straighter, alarmed. “But…” You’d specifically sought out a woman doctor for this. The idea of a man looking critically at you, there, is mortifying. “But, but Dr. Hickory—”

“Is having a baby,” Kemp says. “She went into preterm labor this morning. But we hear everything’s going well.” He smiles at you, as if this is good news. “She’ll be out on maternity leave for at least six months.”

“...Six months,” you repeat weakly. You hadn’t even known she was pregnant. They hadn’t said a thing to you when you made the appointment. You’d been counting on her being your doctor. And now this guy, this Dr. Kemp, was stepping in? You swallow nervously, uncomfortable with a man (let alone a very, very handsome man) being your doctor. Not for this. “Um, well I…”

Dr. Kemp is already looking over your chart on his clipboard. He’s going to see what you circled, you realize, mortified. You watch helplessly as he reads all of your private details. “Dr. Kemp…” you say meekly,

“You're here for a consult for…” he reads, eyes scanning further down the page. “Oh. You’re the Labiaplasty.”

You flush bright red at the word coming from his perfect mouth. You squirm uncomfortably. “Um, well… yes.”

“Don’t worry,” he tells you, placing a hand on your knee as if in comfort. He pulls it away before you can process it. “I’m more than familiar with the procedure. I trained down in L.A.” He says this like it’s supposed to explain something, and he winks at you again. It’s… upsetting.

You swallow thickly. “The thing is, I’d been hoping for a female doctor.”

Kemp’s eyes fly to your face as he realizes how uncomfortable you are. “Oh, Honey. I see.” You blush and he gives you a tender look. “You’re shy? That’s understandable.”

“Thank you, I—”

“But I’m sorry to tell you, Sweetheart, there aren’t any other women doctors in our practice.”

“Oh.” Your heart sinks. Getting this consult appointment had taken months, and you’d wanted to go to a place where you knew they were very good, very experienced. This place had been recommended as the best. “I see.”

Dr. Kemp looks pityingly at you. “Did you want to reschedule your appointment?” he asks gently. “Dr. Hickory won’t be taking new patients until after her leave, but I can have the receptionist take a look at next year’s calendar.”

You look at him with wide eyes, disappointed. “Next… next year?”

He makes an apologetic face. “Yeah, sorry.”

Sighing, you try to put on a brave face. You’re an adult, you tell yourself. Buck the fuck up. You’ve put up with male gynos before, after all. None of them ever looked like Dr. Kemp, but you shouldn’t hold the man’s good looks against him. He’s just here to do his job, to help you. “It’s okay,” you say, trying to approximate a friendly smile. “It’s fine. You can… you can be my doctor.”

Dr. Kemp’s eyes flash in satisfaction, but there’s something about it that’s more than just professional. “Good girl,” he says, and he says it all chipper and like it’s a normal thing to say to a patient, like it isn’t supposed to make your panties feel a little bit damp (and honestly, the sweetheart’s and the honey’s and the your breasts are lovely’s has probably contributed to the situation in your panties, too). “So,” Kemp says, sitting down onto the physician’s stool and rolling over. “Why don’t you tell me what makes you want this procedure.”

He’s giving you his full attention. He’s not even holding the clipboard anymore, and you find that it’s nearly impossible to meet his gaze for long. You look down at your lap instead, at your clasped hands against the white fabric of your sundress as you tell him, “Um, well I guess I just don’t, ah, don’t really like how I look… down there.” You nearly whisper the last words, ashamed.

“What don’t you like about it?” he asks softly.

“It just doesn’t look right,” you say, echoing the things your boyfriend had told you, things that you couldn’t help but to come to see as true. “It’s too much. Too big. It looks like…” you can’t even bring yourself to say the words that he’d used. “It’s just not pretty,” you whisper, cheeks burning in shame. “I want it to be prettier. Like other girls.”

“Other girls,” he repeats. “What other girls are we talking about?”

You scoff quietly and frown at your lap. “Like… you know. Like what you see in, in—”

“Porn?” Kemp says, voice tight. When you look up you’re struck by his darkening expression. He looks pissed off. “Let me guess,” he says, jaw working. “Boyfriend?”

You gape at him. “Ahm… no. Ex-boyfriend,” you murmur. Dr. Kemp looks very displeased, and you shrink back into yourself. “Is it… isn’t this like, a common procedure?” you ask meekly, wary of the man’s expression. “I looked at the website. There were lots of before and after pictures.” When you don’t get a response, you prod, “Doctor?”

“Steve,” he says, his expression lightening up somewhat. “You can call me Steve.”

You glance at his name tag that says Brendan Kemp, MD. “But—”

He scoots forward and puts his hands on your knees, rubbing over them. It pushes the hem of your dress up by the barest degree, but you ignore it. He’s looking you closely in the eyes. He looks sweet, and kind. And because of how handsome he is, how sure of himself too, it’s intimidating as hell. “Why don’t I have a look first, hm?” he says. “Give you my professional opinion, before you go deciding what needs fixing.”

You gulp and manage a tiny nod. “O-okay.” This is the part you’ve dreaded. Dr. Kemp (Steve, he’d told you to call him, but that just makes this whole experience feel more uncomfortable, more personal) scrutinizing your most private place.

He pulls out the stirrups from the end of the table and instructs you to put your legs up. “Take your shoes and underwear off and get comfy,” he says, smiling nicely at you as he says it, as if “comfy” is something you could possibly be while doing this.

He scoots away on his rolling stool to go over to the room’s counter and don latex gloves, giving you an illusion of privacy as you untie the laces of your shoes and slip them off your feet. They land on the floor with a muted ‘clunk’, and you slide your panties down your legs and tuck them under your lower back. They have a little wet spot on them that you don’t want Dr. Kemp to see. You slide down the table and put your feet into the stirrups, getting into the familiar, yet never-not-humiliating, position. You feel impossibly exposed, the cool air hitting between your legs and making you want to close them. As a useless, last-ditch effort, you straighten out the fabric of your dress so that it covers you to your knees, serving as a sort of barrier between you and him. “...Ready,” you say quietly, when it seems that he’s not going to return without your say-so.

He sits on the stool and rolls up close between your legs. You start trembling a little and you shut your eyes to try and calm down. “...Hey,” Kemp says, getting your attention. When you open your eyes again you see him standing over you, looking at your face instead of between your legs. “Honey,” he says gently. “You seem really nervous.”

You wince. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He looks kindly at you. “I just wanted to double check. You didn’t indicate any history of sexual assault on your intake form.”

You blanch. “Oh! N-no I— nothing like that.”

“Okay,” he says gently, patting your knee again. “Just wanted to make sure.”

You’re struck by how sweet that is of him, and you try to relax to show him you’re grateful for his care. “It’s okay, it’s fine,” you tell him as he sits back down on the stool. “This just… sucks, you know?”

“Mm.” You gasp as his gloved hands appear on your ankles and give an indicative tug. “Scoot down closer to the end of the table, Sweetheart.”

Heat floods you as you do as you’re told, putting your ass right to the edge of the table like he wants. It’s so humiliating. You want to cover your face with your hands, only refraining by gripping the edges of the padded table instead.

“Shh. Good girl,” he praises you, and you feel your belly clench at the words. Below you, he chuckles and self consciousness floods you as you think of what he must be seeing. You’re suddenly, horribly curious if you’re at all wet. Good God, you hope not. But your panties had been damp, that one little wet spot on the crotch… You tense again as Kemp’s hands appear on the inside edges of your knees, pushing them apart. “Open up for me now.”

You realize you’d been closing your legs together somewhat. “S-sorry,” you whisper.

He rubs your inner thigh—close to the knee but still shocking. “It’s okay. I know this is hard. I can tell you’re a woman who doesn’t spread her legs for many men.”

Your lips part as your mind reels, offended and horrified that he’d say that. Nevermind that it’s true, or that it sounds like he’s praising you, like he’s just calling you a ‘good girl’ in a different way. You seal your lips shut to keep yourself from scolding him.

The next thing you feel is him leaning closer. You swear you can feel his breath down there, but surely he wouldn’t be getting so close. You grit your teeth and try not to let your mind run away with itself. “So,” you say to try and make conversation, to try and prove to him and yourself that you’re a mature woman who can handle this. “So y-you can see. See what I mean.”

“Mm, still looking,” he says thoughtfully. You inhale sharply when he touches you, but you quickly slam your eyes shut and try to take calming breaths. You knew going into this that you’d need to be examined. He drags his fingers over your mons and down the puffy outer lips of your pussy. It’s extra sensitive to you because you’d shaved yourself completely bare before this appointment. Silly, maybe, but you’ve always thought that hair down there was unsightly, gross, and you didn’t want Dr. Hickory to have to deal with it.

Not that she’s dealing with you at all, now.

You bite your lip as you feel him exploring you slowly, with the barest of touches. He’s touching you in a way that feels more like a lover than a doctor. His thumbs gently dip into the crease of your outer lips and pull them apart, baring everything between. “Look at that,” he whispers, and you nearly cry out in mortification. You must whimper or something, because Dr. Kemp pauses and checks, “Still okay?”

You nod, eyes squeezed shut tightly. “Fine,” you say breathily. Deep breaths. He does this all the time. It’s no big deal to him. Just take deep— “Oh!”

He’s stroking the hood of your clit with the pad of a finger, just the barest, gliding touch. It’s slippery with something, and you feel halfway sick as you have to wonder if it’s a medical lubricant he’s somehow fetched, or your own arousal that he’s gathered up and is using to explore you. No, you think, it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t…

“You have a gorgeous pussy,” he breathes from between your legs.

“I… ex-excuse me?” you stutter. This time you can feel it when you clench and slick comes out of you. Dr. Kemp groans as if he’s seen it happen, and you feel your face flame. “I’m sorry,” you apologize, humiliated that you’re getting wet from this. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh sh sh,” he hushes you, one of his gloved hands smoothing over your inner thigh, this time much further up. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Your body’s just reacting naturally to being stimulated.” His gentle explanation does absolutely nothing to help with your situation, and you feel your belly tighten again in arousal. You whimper helplessly, somehow wanting him to comfort you. And he does. “Honey,” he breathes, going back to tracing the hood of your clit. His fingers move down, following the line of your inner lips, spreading them out and gliding over the thickest parts of them. Shame curls in your gut as you remember the words you ex had used:

“Fucking luscious,”

You blink at the ceiling tiles, shocked. Those had most certainly not been the words he’d used. “Um,” you start to say, but he interrupts you in a firm tone,

“Baby, listen to me, okay?” You’re frozen, unable to respond so he takes your silence for compliance. Between your legs, his fingers trace up and down the wet folds of your cunt. There’s no interpreting it any other way now—he’s caressing you. “This?” he says, whispering the words what feels like only inches from your skin. “This is your labia minora.”

You exhale shakily. “I—I know that.”

“Mm.” He keeps tracing them, keeps gliding around in the wetness that’s now becoming obscene. “It’s natural for you to look like this.”

“I just…” you stammer, still trying to bring this examination back into the realm of productive. “I th-think they’re too big. There’s too much…” you tense up at another wet stroke over your clit. “Too much...meat,” you grit out.

Between your legs, Steve makes a displeased sound. “That’s what the ex told you, huh?” He doesn't wait for you to answer, one of his thumbs sliding down, down, until it starts rubbing down at your taint, pushing right up against the edge of your pussy. You gasp and he shushes you. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong, here,” he murmurs, his breath a hot whoosh against you.

You whimper at the realization of how close he is to you now. “Please,” you whisper, “Dr. Kemp—”

“Steve,” he corrects gently, still thumbing circles of pressure into the thin skin at the edge of your hole, almost teasing, almost threatening with how close it is and how with only a little bit more pressure, a different angle, he could slide it right in. “I told you to call me Steve.” His other hand splays out over your mons, the thumb dipping down to swipe up and down over the hood of your clit. It’s a slick, gliding, barely-there touch. He’s hardly applying any pressure but that’s how you like it. You’re so sensitive there, and you can’t hold in the pitiful little moan that leaves your lips. Steve hums in approval. “Yeah,” he says, voice low and quiet. “You’ve got a prominent clitoral hood.”

You toss your head on the table, a whine building in your throat at his bold, clinical language. It doesn’t match his tone of voice or the way he’s touching you. This is so wrong. But you can’t stop it. You like it. He intimidates you horribly, and you like that, too.

He’s still stroking you there as he says, “What was that word you used, hm? ‘Meat’?”

You cringe.

“Well it is,” Steve says lowly. “Very meaty.” He traces your folds again, this time holding your labia delicately between his fingertips and rubbing the sensitive flesh. You just about die.

“St-steve, please,”

“And these lips,” he says, ignoring your pleas. “These gorgeous …juicy fucking folds.” he says, nearly growling the words. “Makes a man wanna lick, and suck…”

You go rigid at the first touch of his tongue. “Ohmygod,” you whisper, hips jolting up against his mouth without your permission. You’re about to apologize, but before you can, Dr. Kemp is loosing the filthiest, most appreciative groan, the tail end of the sound becoming muffled as he mashes his whole mouth against your pussy. “Holy—” Shit, you finish in your mind, unable to force words past your throat anymore. Steve mouths at you like he can’t wait, like he’s desperate, and you feel it as his tongue swipes broadly over your entire cunt. Your fingers spasm, digging painfully into the edges of the exam table as your whole body tenses up. “Oh, god,” you moan, hips jerking against his mouth.

He makes a muffled sound of pleasure and sucks everything he can into his mouth; your clit, your lips. He sucks, hard and sloppy, releasing it all with a loud, wet sound. “Fuck, honey,” he pants. “Never wanted to suck on a pussy so bad.” His hand returns to your mound, his thumb taking up the same swiping motion over your clit, only now you’re drenched and swollen, throbbing with sensitivity.

“Shit,” you whine, pressing up against his hand without realizing it at first.

He holds you down easily and flicks his thumb a little rougher, a little faster. “Yeah? He breathes, kissing at the edge of your sex, near your thigh in a move that is surprisingly sweet. “That feel good for you, Sweetheart?” You make an unplanned noise of assent, and he hums darkly. He’s pleased. “Good girl,” he says again, and flicks his thumb. “Such a big fat clit, and these pretty pink lips. Mmhm, so fucking plump. I could play with it all day, looove it.”

You toss your head, unable to take the words he’s saying. And he’s growling it all at you like it’s a good thing, like your pussy’s the best thing he’s ever seen. You can’t doubt for a second that he means it, but you’re just so overwhelmed by what he’s saying…

You make an embarrassingly high pitched sound when he presses a finger into you. “Oh!”

“Shsh,” he warns you, smoothing his other hand up the apex of your thigh, up under the fabric of your dress, over your belly. “Shh, honey. Don’t want the nurse to walk in, do you?”

You gasp, suddenly afraid of that possibility. He feels you get still and silent and soothes you with a heavy lick over your lips, the finger that’s inside of you curling. “You’re okay,” he promises, kissing your clit, sucking it and letting it pop from his mouth. You sob. “Shh. You’re okay.” He moves his finger shallowly, stroking you from the inside. It feels nice, and you exhale shakily, trying to calm yourself down.

“Steve,” you breathe. “You shouldn’t. We… I shouldn’t….”

All of a sudden he rises from the stool, standing to his full height and moving to the side of the table as he keeps his hand on you, in you. He stares down at you, his expression rapt but tender. It’s so much worse with him looking at you like this. It’s almost harder than when he had his face mashed against you and half your sex inside his mouth. It’s even more serious like this, you think as you blink up at him with parted lips. It’s more personal. He looks you right in the eyes, unfaltering, as he slips in another finger. You keen, and your hips press up into it, seeking. His lips curl, pleased. He moves his hand in such a firm, practiced way. He’s not pulling out very much at all. Not thrusting so much as he is rocking, grinding.

Inside, something starts to feel tight and desperate. You watch him watching you, watching it happen. He’s smiling, smug, he knows what he’s making you feel. “You’re soaking my hand, honey,” he murmurs, and you feel your cheeks flood hot with shame. “Uh uh,” he corrects you, stern. “No, it’s beautiful.”

He changes it, starts rocking deeper, curling against your walls and jabbing harder at that spot. It’s not an orgasm you feel so much as an urgency, and you squeak as the pressure builds. “S-something,” you try to say, try to tell him that something’s going to happen. But his eyes gleam in pleasure, like he already knows. Above your clit, the thumb of his hand starts rubbing in downward strokes: down down down. Holy fuck does it feel good. Your eyes slam shut as you feel it building, building and tightening. Oh—

“I want you to promise me,” Kemp says, and you’re shocked at how close his voice is. You open your eyes. He’s bent over, his face mere inches from yours as his hand keeps working. “Before I make you cum, I want you to promise me,” he growls. “Promise me that you’ll never let anybody cut on this fucking perfect pussy.”

You gasp, his words jabbing at the core of you almost as much as his fingers inside do, “Ahh-oh!”

“Promise me, Angel,” he says, rocking his hand harder, faster, harder. “Promise me now.”

“I… I…ha-oh! I pra–hom–mi–ssss!” Your eyes slam shut and your hips jerk against him as it happens. You cum, you cum hard. You hear him curse and know that he’s moving back down between your legs to look at your clenching cunt. He never stops jerking his hand into you, drawing the pleasure out. You’re loud. You squeal and shriek and jerk wildly through the whole thing, unable to control your body. It’s never felt this; this urgent, this out of control. You buck against his hand, feeling the wetness soaking everything beneath you, until finally it comes to an end.

He pulls out of you and uses both hands to spread your lips apart, staring. You whine and squirm, and then you really feel the extent of the wetness down there, and you blanch. “I—Oh no.” You try to sit up, try to pull away from him and get his hands off you, panicking. “I… I peed.” You struggle, mortified, pulling your feet from the stirrups and swinging them to the side of the table, trying to close yourself to him, trying to get off the table and—

“Heyheyhey, no. Hang on baby, calm down.” Steve stops you, his hands at your waist, keeping you seated on the table. He crowds you, holding you in place. “You didn’t honey, you didn’t. You’re okay.” He laughs. He’s laughing. You can’t believe it as you watch him. You begin to scowl, ready to be hurt and mad, but he hushes you with a kiss to your mouth.

You gasp and go silent, somehow more taken aback by this than anything he’s done yet. His mouth is so sure and confident over yours, his lips pillow soft but commanding. He pulls back from the kiss and looks at you. “You squirted, honey,” he explains, amusement still clear in his eyes, only now you’re calm enough that you can see the affection there, too. The satisfaction, the desire. He’s not making fun of you.

“What?” You look down to the end of the table, where you’d been splayed open for him. The paper covering and the vinyl padding of the table are soaked with a clear liquid. You look down to your lap, which is barely covered by the material of your bunched up sundress now. Between your thighs, it feels wet too. “I… I did?” you nearly whisper, astounded.

He laughs affectionately and leans in to kiss your forehead. “Yeah, Angel, you did. It was amazing.”

You flush and tuck your head down, feeling tingly from his obvious approval. The things he’d said about your body… “You really meant it?” you ask. “All the—”

“Yes,” he says firmly. He tips your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “Hey,” he says gently. “Remember what you promised me.”

You squirm uncomfortably. Maybe he finds you attractive, but you can’t help but to worry about other guys, about the future partners you’ll have. Steve might like it, but he’s just one man. The fact remains that down between your legs, you still look like most of the before halves of the before and after pictures. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, apologetic to dismiss his opinion of you. “But I just… I want my next boyfriend to think I’m pretty, there,” you say reluctantly, glancing up at him.

He has a fierce gleam in his eyes as he boldly tells you, “He already does,” and then surges down to kiss you again.

It’s been a long day. With both his own patients and a bunch of Hickory’s to see to as well, Steve is pretty tired by the time 5:00 rolls around and the office staff is closing up. He changes out of his scrubs and lab coat, back into his gym shorts and sneakers that he’ll jog home in. That’s how Cassie finds him. “Brendan, check it out!” She holds up her phone for him to see the picture of a wet, vaguely purple-colored newborn. “Boy,” she tells him. “Five pounds, whatever ounces. Small but healthy. She says they’re naming him Grady Harrison.”

Steve grins. “Awww.” What a horrible name.

Cassie puts her phone away and tilts her head at him. “A bunch of us are going for drinks. You want to come?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m beat. Gonna head home soon.”

“Mm. You know your nickname is Boring Brendan,” she teases, grabbing up her purse and heading for the exit.

“It is not,” he laughs, waving her out the door. “I’m just gonna finish up with a few notes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She waves goodbye and the office door falls shut, locking behind her because he’s the last one there and the office manager already left. Steve walks behind the partition of the nurse’s station and sits down, booting up one of the computers. He clicks the mouse over a few folders, typing in his password when it prompts him for entry into the patient data files. There’s one in particular whom he wants to learn everything he can about.

He finds the folder marked with her name:

Moreau, Ann J.

The corner of his mouth ticks up and he clicks to open the file. “Ann,” he murmurs the name, remembering the taste of her cunt against his tongue, filling his mouth, his senses. Mmm. She’d been delicious, exquisite. Not taking his eyes away from the computer screen, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the tiny scrap of lace she'd left behind in her hurry to escape him. He holds the panties under his nose, inhaling. Fuck, he thinks, remembering her delicate body in that delicate cotton dress, how she'd cried out and creamed herself for him. So sweet.

He wants to learn more about her, fully plans on tracking her down and taking her on a date. On many dates, if he can.

Because he’s never been the type to be satisfied by just one taste.

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup!

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #fresh 2022 #fresh movie #steve kemp #steve kemp x ofc #steve kemp x you #steve kemp x reader #au fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfiction #fic writing #reader insert #reader fanfiction #reader fic

[sunshinebuckybarnes]

Spooky szn is over 🎃 hello November ✨ I tried my best to keep up with kinktober reading but you lot are too talented! Anyway, enjoy perusing everything I read throughout October. As always please give these gorgeous fics and their even more gorgeous authors the love they deserve by reblogging 🖤 the majority of fics contain adult themes and are 18+ only and you are responsible for your own media consumption.

Happy reading angels 💐

Eddie Munson ✨

But what goes down by @sexyprise

Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader

The girl at the rock show by @jobean12-blog

Eddie Munson x reader

High for this by @succubusmunson

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Bucky Barnes ✨

Feelin' gourd by @jobean12-blog

Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

Within' you by @navybrat817

Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fear and degradation by @groubee

rockstar!bucky barnes x innocent!female reader

Yes chef! by @sunshine-on-my-mind

Chef!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Though I have never read it by @tuiccim

Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Hopelessly devoted by @firefly-in-darkness

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Insatiable by @jobean12-blog

Bucky Barnes x reader (Vampire AU)

Joel Miller ✨

Thrills by @moonlight-prose

joel miller x f!reader

Can't keep my hands to myself by @jobean12-blog

Pre!Outbreak Joel Miller x reader

Ari Levinson ✨

Beauty brought of rapture and desire by @the-iceni-bitch

demon!Ari Levinson x virgin witch fem!reader

Biker!Ari by @angrythingstarlight

Biker!Ari x Reader

Lee Bodecker ✨

Out of line by @dreamlessinparis

Serial!Killer!Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

Devil devil by @sgt-seabass

vampire!Lee Bodecker x reader

Save your tears by @flordeamatista

lee bodecker x reader

Andy Barber ✨

Easy as pie by @navybrat817

Andy Barber x Female Reader

Joaquin Torres ✨

Drunk on you by @moonlight-prose

joaquín torres x f!reader

Steve Kemp ✨

You by @shadeysprings

Art Collector!Steve Kemp x F!Reader

Steve Rogers ✨

The red woods by @navybrat817

Lumberjack!Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Ransom Drysdale ✨

Meet your match by @dreamlessinparis

Dark!Serial!Killer!Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

Kinktober ✨

Mob!Bucky's kinktober honeymoon by @writing-for-marvel

Kinktober 2023 by @lunarbuck

The witching hour by @flordeamatista

#fic rec #october fic rec #eddie munson #bucky barnes #joel miller #ari levinson #lee bodecker #andy barber #joaquin torres #steve kemp #steve rogers

[valleyfae]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

✴︎── 𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍 & 𝐂𝐎.

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈 ✴︎ 18+ only

this blog is not suitable for audiences under the age of 18. minors, ageless blogs, and blank blogs will be blocked

𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✴︎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✴︎ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐊𝐄𝐘 ✴︎ f = fluff ── s = smut ── d = dark ── ddlg = ddlg ── pp = pet play ── h/c = hurt/comfort

𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒

Guys My Age: AU ── (f, s, h/c)

Divorced!dilf!neighbor!Bucky Barnes ✴︎ Your neighbor is always there to comfort you, and lucky enough, he’s divorced.

Insatiable Angel ── (s)

Daddy!Bucky ✴︎ Bucky only needs ten minutes to finish his work, but you can't seem to wait.

In charge around here ── (s, d)

Dark!biker!Bucky Barnes ✴︎ Bucky makes sure to show you who you should trust after moving alone to a big city.

Just wanted to help ── (ddlg, h/c)

Daddy!Bucky Barnes ✴︎ You just want to do something for Bucky after how much he does for you, but your plan doesn’t go as expected.

𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍

Smarty ── (s, d)

Mean dark stepdad!Sebastian Stan ✴︎ Your stepdad isn’t too happy when his smart little girl comes home a tad bit drunk.

I Love You to the Moon and Back ── (f, h/c, ddlg)

Daddy!Sebastian Stan ✴︎ After a long, tiring day, there’s nothing better than snuggling up in bed with your daddy for a bedtime story

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐊𝐄𝐌𝐏

Push Me Down ── (s, d)

Ghostface!Steve Kemp ✴︎ Ever since your first encounter, Steve’s twisted obsession over you consumed his every moment, until he finally snaps.

𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒

Bucky giving his little kitten what she so desperately needs: his cum ── (s, pp)

Mean stepbrother!Bucky + piss kink ── (s, d)

Mean stepbrother!Bucky manhandling you until you are shivering under his touch ── (s, d)

Mean dark!mechanic!Bucky when you forget your wallet at home ── (s, d)

Brothers bsf!fratboy!Bucky Barnes x secret camgirl!reader ── (s)

Divorced!Bucky x divorced!reader ── (s)

Guys My Age AU :aftercare with Bucky + sitting between his legs + finger sucking ── (f)

Cocky brothers bsf!Bucky finally makes a move on you after your first year of college ── (s)

Bucky punishes you with an over-the-knee spanking after you tease him during a meeting ── (s)

Bucky makes you clean up the mess you made while riding his boot + slapping ── (s)

Soft dark!Bucky takes advantage of your vulnerability as a newly recruited avenger ── (s, d)

18th-century daddy!Bucky comforts you at a gala when noticing you feel little ── (ddlg, h/c)

Mean dom!Bucky putting you in your place after being a brat and talking’s back to him ── (s)

Mean dom!Nick Fowler, punishment + throat fucking + cock and ball worship ── (s)

Best friends dad!Sebastian reminds you that you are always welcome at his home ── (h/c)

Dark mean stepdad!Sebastian punishing you with a paddle ── (s, d)

Dad!Lee Bodecker coming home after work ── (f)

#fran’s navigation #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #daddy!bucky barnes #daddy!bucky barnes x little!reader #nick fowler smut #nick fowler x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #bucky smut #bucky barnes x you #dilf!bucky barnes #x little!reader #masterlist #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan rpf #sebastian stan masterlist

[jessybarnes]

Just A Taste

Title: Just A Taste

Pairing: Steve Kemp x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!

Word Count: 1,643

Tags: Smut, angst, fluff, face riding, oral sex (female receiving), clit play, tongue fucking, kissing, crying, feelings of not being good enough, being held captive, out of character Steve, squirting, explicit language, and I think that’s it.

Written For: KINKMAS 2022

Day 1: Face Riding

Beta(s): Just Grammarly

A/N: Okay, so this was supposed to be posted on the 14th but because I received anon hate I decided to wait because I just wasn't feeling good about myself. I'm still not, but here this is anyway. I'm sorry it's bad. I know Steve is way out of character. Sorry, for my bad writing.

Steve opens the door to his cellar and heads down the stairs. His fingers wrap tightly around the key card as he exhales harshly through his nose. Today was stressful. Well, every day is, but today was even more so.

His shoes click methodically on the hard floor as he walks slowly toward your cell. The other ones are all empty except for two, but those women don't matter to him. Not in the way that you do.

You're...different.

From the day he saw you standing in line at the little deli he frequents, he was captivated by your beauty. He'd never seen someone so beautiful before in his life.

So beautiful, in fact, that he can't bring himself to use you the way he's used all of the other women he's captured. Every time he opens your cell door and sees those big, doe eyes of yours looking up at him, his stomach fills with butterflies.

Even on bad days like this, you bring a light to him that illuminates his darkness.

Steve can see you sitting cross-legged on the thin bed roll, a Cosmopolitan magazine open on your lap. You're chewing on your bottom lip, something he's noted as a habit of yours, and it makes arousal coil in his lower abdomen.

He raises the key card to unlock the door and slides it open. You look up and offer him a soft, nervous smile.

"H-Hi"

Steve smiles at the fear and innocence in your eyes. God, he loves the power he holds over you.

"Hey, sweetheart. Reading anything good?"

You look down at the magazine and move your gaze back to his. It really should disgust you that your attraction to your kidnapper outweighs your motivation to escape. There's no way he feels the same. At first, you'd thought that's why he hadn't harmed you, but now you're starting to think there's something else wrong with you.

You've been here for a long time now, and he still hasn't done what he said he do the first night he'd brought you here. Maybe you're not good enough for him now and he's just keeping you here as a prisoner because he's afraid you'll rat him out and ruin his whole operation.

Wow, I'm so undesirable not even the man who took me captive wants anything to do with me... how pathetic...

"Just the horoscope page," you say quietly.

The sadness in your tone doesn't go unnoticed and Steve realizes it's a different kind of sad. Not the kind he's used to anyway. He pushes off the doorframe and walks closer to you. His knees pop as he crouches down, his fingers tilting your chin up so you meet his eyes.

"Somethings wrong, and it isn't just because I've got you imprisoned in this room."

It isn't a question, but you know he means to ask what's bothering you. The lump in your throat rises and you're certain if you try and speak the dam inside you will break.

Your lower lip trembles and Steve brushes his thumb over it to keep it still. He watches as tears gather in your eyes and feels his heart constrict with another foreign feeling.

He's been angry before, but never this kind. This kind is new to him. This is a protective type of anger that makes his blood boil.

Steve sits down and pulls you into his lap. You curl into him as soft, quiet sobs shake your body. A deep scowl etches onto his features and even though he's the only one who's had any type of contact with you for the past two months, it still doesn't change the fact that he'd kill anyone who brought you harm.

...Oh...

That's when it dawns on him.

He's fallen for you.

Hard.

Your small voice breaks through your sobs and Steve wipes your tears away with his thumb as he looks down at you.

"Th-There's some...something wrong with m-me, isn't there?"

He shakes his head, "why would there be anything wrong with you? You're the least fucked up person in this house, Y/N."

You sniffle and adjust yourself so you're looking at him properly. He really is attractive, and you're so close to him. Close enough that you could just lean in and-

"Sweetheart?"

Your eyes fall to your lap along with your hands, the chain around your wrist jingling reminding you of where you're at. Maybe you do belong here if you're having sexual thoughts about your fucking abductor.

"Because," you sigh, "I've been in here for a long time and...and you've...well, you haven't...haven't um..."

You can't bring yourself to even say it, but Steve seems to get what you're trying to tell him. He tilts your chin back up again and for the first time in a long time, he actually looks sincere.

"You think because I haven't done to you what I've done to the others that you're not good enough?"

You nod and he swallows thickly. He's normally desensitized to seeing women cry, but with you, it's like someone's torn open a wound in the middle of his chest. He can't stand it and he can't help himself as he leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss.

You gasp and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips into your warm, wet mouth. He kisses you fiercely, his arms holding you tightly against him, and for a moment you actually believe he wants this...wants you.

Steve pulls away and you search his eyes for a moment before speaking up.

"I...don't...I don't understand... how come-"

He shushes you with another kiss and taps your thigh so you'll get up. He stands with you and pulls a set of keys from his pocket, the same sincere expression still on his face.

"We'll talk more later, baby. Right now, I've gotta taste you, and I need you somewhere more comfortable for that."

The look of horror on your face catches him off guard, but he quickly recovers and shakes his head, his hands cupping your cheeks tenderly.

"Oh, angel, I didn't mean it like that. I promise I'm not going to harm one hair on that pretty, little head of yours."

He pulls you flush against him, one of his large hands sliding underneath the elastic band of your sweatpants.

"What I meant was," two of his fingers apply delicious pressure on your clit making your breath hitch, "I wanna taste this sweet, little cunt, Y/N."

Heat pools in your belly at his words, and you let yourself feel the way the pads of his fingers roll over your sensitive bud. He removes them just as quickly and you let out a little whine in protest.

"Don't be impatient," he admonishes and unlocks the cuff on your wrist.

Steve leads you out of the cell and down the long hallway. You come to a set of stairs and he climbs them, unlocking the door at the top with his key card before taking you through the main part of his house. His bedroom is cozy and neat, but you don't get a chance to really look at it because, in the next second, he's practically tearing your clothes off.

"So sweet...so pretty and innocent, baby. I bet your pussy tastes like heaven."

Steve lays down on the bed and tilts his head back so he can look at you. His cock tents his pants and your mouth waters at the thought of him fucking your throat.

"Come here, princess. Come sit on my face and let me taste you."

You climb over him, your knees just above each of his shoulders. He groans and wraps his arms around your thighs as he looks up at your glistening pussy.

"Fucking soaked, baby."

He pulls you down and drags his tongue from your soaked hole to your hard clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body.

"Oh, fuck! Steve!"

He begins to devour you, switching from slipping his tongue inside your pussy and sucking on your sensitive nub. You start to rock your hips and whine when he holds you still.

Steve's insatiable.

He can't get enough of the way you taste, the way your dripping cunt clenches around his tongue every time he pushes it inside you. He's instantly addicted and he's determined to see how many times he can make you cum just from his mouth alone.

"Oh, my god! Fuck! Please!... Steve, I...it feels so fucking good, baby."

He lifts you up and looks up into your eyes, "ride my face, princess. Make yourself cum all over my fucking tongue."

You moan loudly and roll your hips, the sensation of his mouth on your pussy making you toss your head back in pleasure.

Your hands grip his hair and you move your cunt faster across his tongue, the spark of arousal now a full-blown inferno as you climb closer and closer to pure bliss.

Steve grips your ass and flicks his tongue faster, his name falling past your lips over and over in a desperate plea.

"Steve! Oh, God Steve! Please! Steve, you're so good...fuck, m'gonna cum you're so fucking good, baby!"

Your legs begin to shake and moments later the coil inside you snaps as you gush all over him. He growls possessively and takes everything you give him until you're too sensitive.

Steve rolls you over so you're on your back, his body caging you in.

"I'm gonna need you to do that again, baby."

Your eyes go wide, "Steve, I don't think that's possible. I'm too sensitive and-"

"Nonsense," he cuts you off and kisses down your body, a smirk dancing across his lips, it's definitely possible, princess."

He kisses your clit and you suck in a sharp breath.

"And you're gonna give me as many as I want."

Tag List: @madashatters18 @sarahrogersevans @chrisevansdaughter @nana1000night @pono-pura-vida @ejshellsiteofsins @imyourbratzdoll

#j snow writes #kinkmas 2022 #steve kemp #brendan steven kemp #steve kemp x you #steve kemp x reader #brendan steven kemp x you #brendan steven kemp x reader #fresh movie #fresh #steve kemp fanfiction #steve kemp fic #steve kemp fanfic #steve kemp smut #steve kemp angst #steve kemp fluff #brendan steven kemp smut #brendan steven kemp angst #brendan steven kemp fluff

[mybuckynotyours]

Piece of Me

Pairing: Steve Kemp x Fem!Librarian!Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Steve and his tongue are a warning duh, hints of cannibalism, oral (f receiving), squirting

Summary: Purely self indulgent! I would give anything to have Steve fucking Kemp eating me out so sensually like this. UGH.

A/N: Enjoy! I might explore more to this storyline, so please leave a comment or reblog if you like this! 😊

Steve was an incredible lover, attentive to every detail, wanting to get to know your most intimate moments of your life as well as your body. You could never fathom how someone such as yourself ended up with someone like him. He was the epitome of grace and dexterity. 

As soon as his fingertips would brush against your skin you felt at peace – safe even. Your mind would switch off; forgetting your days as Steve would consume your every fibre of your being and thoughts. 

“Steve…” His name rolled out of your mouth as if you were tasting the most exquisite piece of chocolate. 

Your eyes closed as you felt him hover above you in bed one lazy afternoon. The sun was about to set and the curtains to your room stood wide apart. Thankfully, no one could see what was going on, as you lived in the high-rise. 

His plump cherry lips were attached obsessively on your body, leaving an endless trail of kisses on your skin. He started from your arm till he reached your fingertips, kissing and sucking on each tip, his dark blue eyes boring into yours. He laughed softly as he kissed your pinky finger. 

You laughed with him and tried to grab hold of a fistful of his brown soft hair. His free hand caught yours, lacing it with his, his lips once again busy kissing your knuckles, making sure to give your hand just as much attention as he did to your other one. 

“I have to go close up.” You announced, huffing softly, ultimately bringing yourself back to reality. 

“Isn’t it Viola’s turn to close up today? Or did you lie to me?” His eyes shot you a playful with a sinister undertone look, his voice deepened on the last syllable. 

“Why would I lie to you?” You wondered, your eyes fixed on his body, watching how the sun reflected beautifully against his pale skin. You could eat him – if only you knew. 

“You’re staying here because I haven’t had my dinner yet.” 

By now, his hands were on your knees, spreading you wide so that he could get comfortable between them. A whiff of your scent was already driving him crazy. Your pussy was delicately on display for him to feast on. He has already feasted on the upper part of your body, gosh, your nipples were aching as they stiffened once again. He had bruised you – not that you cared. It drove you both wild when he would use his teeth, grazing and biting then sucking on them so hard then occasionally slap them so hard it made you yelp. His cock twitched with each silent scream, now throbbing in his boxers, so tight. He wanted to dive himself inside you deeply and roughly but he always managed to hold himself – nothing will change this – not today either. 

“Steve, please.” You started to beg, not exactly sure for what it was that you were begging. You knew that eventually he would fuck you senseless as he always done. Why the sudden hurry? You knew that he would take his time with you. There was not one part of your body that Steve did not give attention to. 

He hooked his forearms under your thighs as his hands laid flat out on your belly while the rest of his god-like body got in position, sifting on his knees as he got closer to your pussy. 

Your eyes instinctively closed and your head rolled back hitting gently your pillow. 

“Look at me, you know the rules.” He said huskily, feeling his cool breath near your clit.

He didn't dip his head till he was satisfied with you staring right at him. He always made you watch. He was fixated in making you to. He didn't want you to just feel. It was important to him for you to know how much he worships you and your body. If only one day he could actually slice a piece and devour you to the fullest. He groaned against your inner at the thought.

Since he was holding you in place, you couldn't do much, except to arch your back a little. His hands might have always been gentle on you but his grip was tight and strong.

A few bites and kisses to your inner thigh continuously teasing you, anticipating you for what's to come. 

You wanted to beg him again, your wetness was trickling down your thighs, damp and hot - Steve had his first taste as the tip of his tongue traced down your entrance, darting his tongue from side to side slowly.

He indulged himself in teasing you, watching you helplessly, at his mercy, in your place. 

"My pretty girl…my pretty wet girl." He hushed as you mewled.

His mouth was on your clit, sucking at it hard. The more you moaned, the harder he sucked, your sweet juice pouring out of you. 

His eyes shot open to look at his work, your clit was a little sensitive from sucking it so he teased you some more by tapping his index finger against it. 

Your eyes widened, gasping at him. "Fuck, Steve!"

He was now relentless. He dipped his head again and with his tongue he licked all the way down, fucking you with his tongue, before aggressively swinging his tongue side to side licking your sweet juice. Gosh, the way you tasted was driving him crazy. He could come each time he would eat you out. You tasted so fucking divine. Imagine the taste of your flesh. 

You cried loudly, edging yourself closer, about to snap soon.

Steve encouraged you further as he played with your bud while he vigorously licked and sucked you, swallowing anything that you gave him. He always ate you dry. He would never waste a drop.

"Come all over my mouth pretty girl. C'mon." He ordered you with a moan.

"I'm so close." You gaped with a satisfied cry as you gushed all over his mouth. You were squirting today. It was even more intense, you almost blacked out. 

Steve lapped with his tongue, like a starved man, your come trickling down his chin. He would get that too. He licked his lips before he wiped his chin with his fingers, then licked them clean. Your smell was in the air and in his nostrils. He could not be more pleased.

"I could stay like this forever, making you squirt on my face like this." He whispered, placing airy kisses on your pussy, down to your clit, his tongue darting out side to side once again.

"This is the first of many. You will not be able to walk tomorrow, sweet girl." He said with a promise, grinning up at you.

#steve kemp #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fan fiction #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fan fic #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x you #fresh