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#steve kemp/you
Note
Bea can you please do when reader cooks for Steve😝😝❤️😝❤️
pairing: steve kemp x dark!reader
warnings: 18+ topics (under 18 year olds do NOT interact/reader), mentions of miscarriage
part of toxic
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There was something the Kemps were good at, even better than other married couples and that was keeping the spark alive. They acted as if they had just started dating or if they were perpetually locked in honeymoon bliss. The truth was they were still as obsessed with one another as they were when they had just gotten married and enjoyed still pulling the odd surprise date here and there. This week, Y/N had decided to take the wheel and prepare a nice romantic dinner. Daisy was off with her parents, the two demanding to see their granddaughter, which meant Y/N had time to prepare something nice for the both of them. 
Steve was a, well, hard man to please when it came to cooking. First, he had appetites which she’d rather not hear about and usually preferred to flat out ignore. Second, he was a very good cook. She could cook but she usually relied on meat and fish dishes so when it came to cook for her husband, she usually would have to find something which would be both impressive and that both would consume. After a few years of marriage, she had come to find a dish they both liked - vegetarian lasagne. However, if she tried making it at home, she’d usually end up displayed on top of the kitchen counter while he thrusted in her from behind. Thus, if she wanted to cook for him, she’d have to do it while he wasn’t around.
Luckily for her, he was stuck in a boring afternoon shift at work which gave her enough time to set dinner, dessert and even some cocktails as well as prepare the living room. She leaned against the counter, a glass of red wine on her hands as she watched her doing until an idea popped into her head. She rushed to the stairs and into her bedroom, searching through her wardrobe until she found what she was looking for. Just in time, the sound of jiggling keys had her running down the stairs and grabbing a cocktail. She’d locked the door from inside and put the latch on, not allowing him to get in until she was in frame. 
      - Did Dais ... - the question died in his lips as he saw her standing in front of him. 
      - Welcome home. - she extended her arm, handing him a cocktail. 
      - Is this what you do when I’m not home? - he wrapped his arm around her waist. 
      - It wouldn’t be fun if you knew. - she turned around, strutting towards the kitchen, not missing how his gaze was glued to her behind the whole time. - Will you stop it? I made us dinner and all you’re thinking about is sex. 
     - Now, baby love, that’s just wrong. - he put the empty glass on the counter, wrapping his arms around her waist. - I was thinking about kitchen sex and then dinner. 
     - Steven. - she crossed her arms. - I swear you will not get to see what’s under this dress unless we have dinner, like a regular, non nymphomaniac couple. I slaved away making dinner. 
      - Will I have sex after dinner? - he attempted to kiss her neck. - I’ll be so nice to you, baby love. 
     - Dinner. 
     - Last I let you cook dinner unsupervised, I woke up tied in my own basement. - he teased. - Do it again. 
     - You’re hopeless, Steve Kemp.
     - Yeah, but you love me so I’m not particularly worried. 
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imyourbratzdoll · 4 months
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Hi firstly I love your work secondly I have a request about something like Lee cheating on reader hurting her bad eventually she moves on with Steve Kemp and one day Lee sees reader again he tries to win her back troubling a bit and Steve comes to comfort protect her and he scares Lee in unique way (we know what Kemp does for a living 😉)
hello, thank you! and I hope you like this!
summary - lee cheats on you which causes you to spend time finding yourself, leading you toward your new love steve kemp. what happens when the one who broke your heart finds you again?
warning - angst, cheating, violence, mentions of cannibalism.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by a deactivated again:(
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No one ever prepared you for the pain of being cheated on, you thought that Lee was the one, having been together for five years. You had dreamt of the two of you getting married, being the perfect little housewife for him. You never expected to walk in on him balls deep inside his secretary, the very one he told you not to worry about. Everything was blurry after that, you could barely remember you storming out of his office, or that he didn’t even chase after you. You didn’t wait for him to come home, you immediately packed your things and left the house, letting him come home to an empty house. 
It had been two years since you had your heart broken and through those years you had managed to love yourself and find love again, even though your trust issues would spike at times. From time to time, you would get flashbacks of walking in on Lee, getting stabbing pains in your chest when you remember each painful detail of that day. You stare blankly ahead, lost in your thoughts with a coffee in your hand, you couldn’t hear as Steve calls for you.
“Sweetheart.” 
You remember walking in, dropping the freshly baked biscuits to the ground as you watched the love of your life fuck into his very young and pretty secretary that’s bent over the desk. You remember how his head turned and he just smirked at you, it felt as though your heart was being ripped out.
“Y/n!” You blink, feeling a burning sensation on your hand and your eyes move down, causing you to notice your recently bought coffee has now crumbled into your hand as the liquid flows out of it, burning your flesh. “Fuck, Honey. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Steve gently removes the ruined coffee from your hold and into the trash before he pulls you over to a bathroom and carefully cleans your hands. “Flashbacks again?” You nod, “I’m sorry, I forgot that, that particular pet name was what he used.” 
“It’s okay… It’s my fault.” You stare at him with wide eyes as he glares at you. 
“No it’s not, it’s never your fault!” He gently takes your face in his hands and places a soft kiss on your lips. 
Steve Kemp, what a dream he was. You had met him during a time where you were between loving yourself and finding love again. You had been walking past your local hospital and ran into him as he was coming out, gobsmacked as to how they hired such handsome doctors. You even blurted out asking if his looks distracted the other doctors from their job. He laughed, causing your mind to become fuzzy as you stared up at him dazedly. For the first time in a long time, you felt happy and through that happiness, you asked him out. Thankfully, he accepted and here you are, staring at the godlike man as he cleans the hot coffee from your hands.
“I love you…” He looks at you and smiles, bringing your hands up to his lips and kissing them softly.
“I love you, honey. Now, there won’t be any scars or damage. So are you ready to go? I can reorder a drink, maybe a cold one this time.” You smile, nodding and letting him help you down from the sink. Steve wraps his arm around you gently, leading you back out into the coffee shop and lines up to reorder an iced coffee. 
As you leave the coffee shop, waiting for Steve, your world begins to crash as you hear a familiar voice. “Well if it isn’t my little ol’ sweetheart!” Your eyes widen as you turn and stare at the chubby man making his way over to you. How the hell was this possible? He made it clear that he would never leave his hometown. “You’re a hard woman to find.” He stands in front of you, a smirk on his face. “Now, what do you say, baby. You come back home, this little spat of yours has gone on long enough.” Lee’s grubby hands reach forward and grip your arm, you didn’t know how you ever fell in love with him. 
“Get your hands off of me! We are over! Did that not go through your head when I left after I caught you fucking someone else?!” You struggle against his hold, looking behind you in hopes that Steve comes out soon. 
“Pfft, please. That wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last, so now, Sweetheart. You are gonna shut your pretty mouth and come with me, and then, you will turn a blind eye whenever I go out with another woman. You hear?” 
“Well that isn’t happening.” Steve steps out, your iced coffee in his hand. He stares down the man, not flinching as Lee tries to intimidate him. “I suggest you let go of my girl.” He speaks slowly, but clearly. When Lee doesn’t let go, only tightening his hold on your arms, causing you to let out a whimper. With quick movement, Steve steps forward and grabs ahold of Lee’s wrist, gripping it and beginning to twist. His glare sharpens as Lee lets out grunts of pain. Steve leans forward and whispers, “If you touch, look, speak or even think of my girl again. I will cut you up into little pieces and serve you to your town.” Lee’s eyes widen and he immediately lets go and backs up, usually nothing would scare Lee, but the seriousness in Steve’s voice and eyes made him rethink everything. 
Steve’s arm wraps around you and he hands you your drink, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Right, well. You aren’t worth this much trouble.” Lee clears his throat and quickly walks away, and you look up at Steve.
“Did you threaten to cut him up?” Steve looks down at you and smiles.
“Of course, and also you are worth it.” He winks at you and you shake your head with a smile.
“I mean… I wouldn’t stop you if you went through with it.”
And with those words, a plan began to form inside of Steve’s head. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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shadeysprings · 7 months
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YOU
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—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! ❤️
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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. 
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“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?”
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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?”
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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.”
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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.”
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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. 
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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.”
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mrs-bucky-barnes106 · 9 months
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sarahowritesostucky · 3 months
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The Five Daddies Imagines
Here you'll find all the little factoids and all content about each of your five sugar daddies. Enjoy!
Andy
Lingerie Preferences
Sexuality Profile
Camping with the daddies
Ari
Lingerie Preferences
Sexuality Profile: Primal
Camping with the daddies
Ultimate Vacation Home: Japan
Bucky
Lingerie Preferences
Sexuality Profile
Camping with the daddies
Lloyd
Lingerie Preferences
Lloyd's Kinks
Ultimate Vacation Home: United Arab Emirates
Camping with the daddies
Steve (Kemp)
Lingerie Preferences
Sexuality Profile
First Meeting
Ultimate Vacation Home: Belize
Camping with the daddies
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Shhhhh, he’s sleeping
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 6 months
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Housewife » Steve Kemp
October 27th
Pairings: Steve Kemp x Reader
Summary: Steve keeps the reader as his housewife.
Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink, housewife kink, breeding kink, pet names (honey, sweetheart)
Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡
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You were in the kitchen, about to start dinner when you heard the door open and close. You smiled when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.
“Hi Stevie. How was work?” You asked, turning your head to kiss his cheek.
“Tiring, but I’m better now that I have you in my arms.” Steve says, kissing your neck softly.
You gasped when you felt his teeth bite down onto your skin, hard enough to leave a hickey behind. A tingling feeling shot through your body. One of Steve’s hands slid down your body, blindly finding the hem of your dress. His hand disappeared underneath your dress, only to find out that you weren’t wearing panties.
“No panties, huh?” He says.
“Mhmm no. I thought I’d make it easier for you when you got home.” You say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.
Steve’s middle and ring fingers rubbed in between your wet folds causing you to moan softly.
“You’re so wet. Is all of it for me?” He asks, kissing just below your ear.
“Yes!” You gasped. “Only you!” You moaned.
His fingers rubbed your clit in circles while his fingers on his other hand teased your entrance. Your eyes fluttered shut and your jaw dropped when you felt his fingers slid inside of your pussy.
“Steve!” You moaned.
Your hands gripped the edge of the kitchen counter to steady yourself.
“Such a good little wife for me.” Steve praises.
You moaned when he called you his wife.
“You like that, honey? You like it when I call you my wife?” He whispers in your ear.
“Yes!” You moaned.
His fingers moved faster on your clit and in your pussy. A loud moan left your lips when Steve slid a third finger inside of you, stretching you out. His fingers hit your sweet spot causing your to throw your head back against his shoulder. Steve placed kisses along the side of your neck, nipping on your skin hard enough to leave more hickeys behind. You felt your lower abdomen tighten, feeling your orgasm about to come crashing down on you. You held onto the kitchen counter for dear life when you felt your knees become weak.
“Stevie!” You moaned.
“Gonna cum, sweetheart?” He asks in almost a whisper.
“Mhmm yes!” You moaned.
“Cum for me, honey.” He says.
Within seconds your orgasm came crashing down on you. His name left your lips as you came on his fingers. His fingers fucked you through your orgasm, slowly coming to a stop. Steve pulled his fingers out of you and licked your juices off of his fingers, moaning at the taste.
Suddenly, he bent you over the kitchen counter and kicked your feet apart with his foot. He bunched your dress up above your hips. You bit your bottom lip when you heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled. Steve pulled down his jeans and boxers just enough for his hard cock to spring out, his tip leaking with precum. You gasped when you felt the tip of his cock in between your wet folds, bumping your sensitive clit.
“My wife deserves to be fucked, doesn’t she?” Steve says.
“Mhmm yes I do.” You hummed.
Steve slid his whole cock inside of you in one thrust. His hands gripped your hips, almost bruising and started thrusting. His thrusts were fast and hard, but also lovingly.
“I’ve been waiting for this all fucking day.” Steve groans, tilting his head back.
“Mhmm, me too.” You agreed while moaning.
The sound of skin slapping filled the kitchen. One of Steve’s hands left your hips and snaked down to your clit, rubbing it in fast circles. Your pussy clenched at the feeling of his fingers against your sensitive clit.
“I won’t last long if you keep doing that.” He moans.
His fingers moved faster on your clit causing you to move yourself back against him. Usually Steve would spank you for doing that, but he didn’t this time.
“So fucking desperate for my cock, aren’t ya, sweetheart?” He says with a smirk.
“Mhmm!” You hummed.
“So fucking desperate that you want me to cum inside of this tight little pussy so you’ll have my babies.” He says, almost darkly.
You moaned at his dirty words. You want that more than anything. You felt your second orgasm approaching you quickly. It was about to come crashing down on you once again.
“Stevie! I- fuck! I’m gonna cum!” You moaned.
“Cum for me, honey.” He says in almost a whisper.
A loud moan left your lips as you came for a second time. Steve wasn’t too far behind you. His cock twitched inside of you, nearing his orgasm.
“Shit! Gonna fill this pussy up till you’re full of me.” He pants.
“Yes please!” You moaned.
Your name fell from Steve’s lips as he came inside of you, painting your walls. He thrusted a few more times before coming to a slow stop. He leaned over you, trapping your body behind his body and the counter. Steve gently turned your head and kissed you passionately.
“I love you, my beautiful wife.” Steve says against your lips.
“I love you too, Stevie.” You say in almost a whisper.
🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡
-Bucky’s Doll
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His name, his property | Steve Kemp
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// Pairing //
-> Dark!Steve Kemp x Female!Reader
// Summary //
-> After letting you out of the basement Steve makes sure that you and everyone else knows who you belong to. His name written on your skin is a good option, isn't it?
// Wordcount //
-> 4.085 Words
// Warnings // Explicit Content
-> 18+, Minors DNI, dark content, kidnapping, hint of stalking, non-con tattoo, mention of cannibalism, Stockholm syndrome, non-con kissing, choking, finger sucking, masturbation, handjob, mention of oral (fem!receiving) and unprotected p in v
// Request //
-> I’ve really been craving a marking kink piece lately and I love your writing. Can you write a Steve kemp smut where he kidnaps the reader and wants to claim her as his so he tattoos his name on her lower back (tramp stamp) and when he sees the finished product he can’t help but cum all over her face
// Authors Note //
-> First of all thank you for the request and the feedback. Hope you like the request and it’s what you thought about.
-> I want to thank @bucks-babe for encouraging me and the comments, proofreading.🩷🩷
// Events //
-> Fandom-Free Bingo: Book Night Edition | G3 | “BEG for it!” | @fandom-free-bingo
// Masterlist | Steve Kemp Masterlist //
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You don’t know what happened last night, the only thing you can remember is the party you were at last night. Usually you don’t drink much, so you really wonder why you can’t remember how you came to this place and got undressed. The warm blanket covering your body stops the cold from the room to surround you and you sigh softly, frowning when you turn your head to find out where you are. Maybe you hooked up with one of these guys at the party? But why is the room so cold and dark, and where is whoever you hooked up with?
The creaking sound of the door lets your gaze wander, and a moment later you have to shut your eyes. A bright light is shining into the dark room, and a big, broad man walks into the room. He closes the door and turns on the light, letting himself fall down on a chair opposite you.
“Glad you’re finally awake; I thought you would sleep a day more. Maybe I gave you a bit too many drugs; aren't you used to them, huh?” The man chuckles darkly, and you don't feel comfortable anymore. You open your eyes slowly to get used to the light before you turn your head to face him, and your jaw drops. “Looks like you remember me, love?”
You nod your head, closing your mouth, and try to sit up when you feel something around your arm. Your gaze immediately shoots to the chains that are around your arm, and you gasp. “W—Please let me go. I can give you money; do you want money?”
“Babe, does that basement look like I need money? You have your very own toilet and look at the beautiful sunrise, or do you want to call it a sunset? However, doesn’t it look pretty?” He asks, smirking at you, and you shake your head. Panic is growing in your body, and you inhale deeply, covering your face with your hands before you look back at the man.
“C—Can you please take these handcuffs off and we can talk?” You ask, and you breathe, shaking while you feel tears building up in your eyes.
“We can talk, but I won't take them off. Maybe when you're good, are you good?” The man smirks at you; his legs are spread, and he leans forward, placing his forearms on top of his thighs while he stares at you with such an intense gaze.
“What do you want then? Can you please let me go?” With every passing second, your breathing gets heavier, and your body starts to tremble. You definitely haven't planned to go to a party and be drugged to get kidnapped by such a psycho guy.
“I'm gonna tell you, but you will freak out. Just please don't freak out, oke?” The brown-haired man says with a nice smirk, and you’re not sure if you should be even more scared or less now, but something inside of you is enough to just scream and run — even though that isn't working with handcuffs around your wrist. "Remember, I told you I'm a doctor-”
And suddenly, you remember what happened in the evening. This nice guy, Steve, sat next to you at the bar, asking you if you wanted a drink as well. Since you two had a lot of fun then — laughing and talking about everything and nothing — he asked you to come with him to a more private corner of the bar. When you agreed, you had another drink, and then everything was dizzy. The next thing you can remember is waking up in the dark room — obviously his basement.
“Usually I would sell your meat; it brings a lot of money, and it is delicious— Calm down, love, I said usually. But I love you, babe,” he says, grinning while he gets up from the chair. His hands slide down his sweater, and he takes a step closer. “So when you do what I say, we are going to have a family, and I will give you my kids. Oh, they will be wonderful, won’t they? And we will be happy. When you don’t do what I say, I’m gonna punish you.”
“You’re fucking insane! I don’t want to have your kids, and I won't do what you want!” You shoot, crawling backwards, when he takes another step forward. “Stay there! Steve, please! Stay where you are! Don’t dare to step closer— please. Steve, please don’t come closer!” You say it through gritted teeth, but he only chuckles at your attempt to crawl away until you crash against the wall behind you.
Steve gets on his knees when he is just a few inches away from you. You already plan how to bite or kick him when he is taking another step closer, but he stays where he is and just looks at you with a soft smile.
“Listen, I’m the one who is in charge, so you better accept it. Like I said, when you don’t do what I say, I’m gonna punish you. Do you want me to punish you, babe? Sore, red ass, huh?” Even though he kind of scares you, when he reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, you feel like there is no fear left in your body.
“I will cut off your dick or—" You get interrupted when your head flies to the side and your cheek burns. Steve just grasps your chin, stopping you from turning your face away while tears form in your eyes and fall slowly down your cheeks. His smile is so soft, and his beautiful blue eyes show nothing but comfort, but he just hit you. Your feelings go crazy, and the way he looks at you and the way his soft fingers hold your chin don’t help with your feelings.
You sob quietly, while he captures your cheeks with both of his hands and wipes your tears softly with his thumbs away. “It’s oke, babe. I love you, and you will love me too,” he mumbles, leaning closer to kiss your forehead before he pulls away and looks deep into your eyes.
“Steve—“ you get interrupted once again when he pushes his thumb into your mouth, pushing your tongue down. You gag around his thumb, and it causes more tears to fall down your cheeks. He then pulls his thumb out of your mouth and smirks.
“Shut your mouth unless you beg for my cock or want to tell me that you love me, love,” he says, leaning forward, and this time he captures your lips with his. They are so soft and warm, and he moves them so perfectly against yours that you just want to give in, leaning more into his touch. Steve will get what he wants, even when it takes a bit to tell you that you love him, but you will be his beautiful, cute wife.
He pulls his thumb out of your mouth, smirking when you immediately close your mouth and crawl further back. You whimper, leaning your back against the wall and looking down at your hands. With your fingers, you play with the handcuffs, moving them around your wrist. Steve looks at you the whole time, smiling softly before he gets up.
“Will you always keep me in the basement?” You ask shyly, not looking at him. A low chuckle leaves his lips. Steve turns around and looks at you once again.
“When you tell me you’re good, I will take you upstairs. Are you good?” His voice sounds soft, and when you look up, you see nothing but comfort in his eyes. Steve’s hands are in his pants pockets while he waits for you to answer. You nod, flicking when his eyes darken, and he looks suddenly at you with an angry expression. “Use your words, love.”
“Sorry,” you mumble, wanting to look back down on your hands, but his intense blue eyes hold yours. You just can’t look away; even though he just looked angry, when his gaze softens, you feel a comfortable warmth rushing through your body. “I’ll be good.”
He grins, walking closer to you and getting down on his knees once again. Steve’s blue eyes brighten when you hold your hands up for him to open the handcuffs. He then gets up and holds his hand out for you to place your smaller one in his big one. When you do so, you smile slightly; his hand is so warm and soft.
“Let’s get upstairs and get some food into your belly, huh?” You nod your head, getting up as well. Your legs feel like jelly, and Steve has to catch you so you won’t fall forward. He immediately wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you tight against him, and you can feel his broad chest against your back. You sigh softly until you feel something poking into your lower back, gasping when he thrusts his hips slowly forward to press his growing bulge more against you.
“S—Sorry,” you mumble, not wanting to make the situation awkward, but Steve doesn’t look ashamed at all. He grinds his bulge against you while his grip on your hips tightens. Steve’s fingers dig into your soft skin, and you moan quietly, your cunt dripping when his cock slides up and down your lower back and your ass. He leans down, his lips grazing over your skin. Steve kisses and sucks at your skin before he lets go and takes your hand to lead you upstairs.
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Steve made lunch for the two of you; his eyes were roaming the whole time over your face, and he smirked when you ate the food with a satisfied smile on your face. “You’re pretty when you smile. Know why I feel for you,” he said, causing you to look up at him and blush slightly.
His tongue slid out and across his lips while his eyes suddenly darkened, and he groaned with a huge smirk on his plump lips. “Should make you mine, but first finish lunch, babe.”
Not long after you are placed on your belly on the bed, Steve doesn’t allow you to turn around, and afraid of punishment, you listen to him and just lay there while you listen to him walk through the room.
“Are you gonna be good, babe? Or do I need to handcuff you?” He asks; you can hear him smirking, and your stomach feels like it’s turning around. You inhale deeply, trying to calm yourself down. Maybe he just wants to joke around or something.
“I—I will be good,” you mumble, placing your hands underneath your head so he can’t reach them immediately.
Steve chuckles darkly before he makes his way to the bed. His footsteps are heavy, and your body starts to tremble when his hand slides along your leg, causing goosebumps on your skin. “Gonna show everyone that you belong to me, babe.”
Steve places whatever he has in his hands next to you on the bed and lets himself fall down next to you on the mattress.
“What are you doing?” You ask, turning your head slightly, but Steve is fast and snaps his hand forward, pressing it on the back of your head to turn your head back, pressing it down on the mattress.
“Told you, gonna show everyone that you belong to me,” he says again before he moves and sits on your thighs, causing you to groan. “I’m not that heavy, love.”
You squirm a bit while Steve grasps the hem of your shirt and pushes it up. He reveals your back, his fingers grazing slightly over your skin. “Steve, please—"
“Shut your mouth!” His voice sounds harsh, and you immediately obey, closing your eyes and trying to think of something better than Steve sitting on your thighs.
A cold liquid drops on your warm skin, and you yelp, trying to turn your head around once again, but he still pushes your face into the mattress, so you’re not able to see whatever he is doing right now. He then waves the liquid away, and you’re really not sure what he is doing there.
“Could hurt a bit but will be fine.” Steve mumbles, and your eyes widen. His hand on the back of your hand lets go of you, but you don’t dare turn your head. You inhale deeply; your breath is shaking, especially when you hear him turning on a machine.
He brings it closer to your back, and before you can say something or move away, you feel a sharp pain in your back. You scream and gasp, your skin burns, but he brings the machine over and over again to your skin. “Steve, please. That hurts; don’t do that, please.”
For a brief moment, you just want to turn around and try to get him off of you, but since he sat down on your thighs, you’re kind of frozen, and now, with him making a tattoo on your back, even more.
Tears are building up in your eyes, rolling down your cheeks, and causing a wet spot on the sheets underneath you. Quiet sobs leave your lips while Steve holds you in place and continues with the tattoo. A smirk crosses his lips when the first letter is written down on your lower back. He groans, his dick growing in his pants, when he makes the next letter.
“Gonna cum in my pants when you have my name written on your back, fucking gorgerous,” he moans, thrusting his hips forward for you to feel his bulge pressing against your ass. “Or maybe I jerk off and come all over your face, or your tattoo, fuck, I can’t decide it’s all so hot. My dick is so hard, and my balls are so fucking heavy, filled with so much cum, and I will pump you full with it at some point.”
“Steve, please,” you try, but a sob interrupts you, and Steve just ignores you, continuing to finish the tattoo on your lower back. He groans every now and then, his tongue wetting his lips while his hand is pressing down on your back, and you feel his hips rutting against yours every now and then.
You don’t know how much time passes until he finally turns off the machine. Tears are still falling down your cheeks, but unless you get a few sniffles, you’re quiet. You thought Steve could be soft, and he can, but right now you just feel scared and hurt. Steve places the machine and color to the side and wipes a cold washcloth over your lower back, causing you to flinch.
“Do you want a nice bath with me or do you want to watch a movie? He asks, leaning down to kiss your neck softly. Steve’s lips are so warm and soft against your neck that you want to sigh, but the burning pain in your lower back makes you wiggle to try and move away from him.
“You’re fucking insane! I don’t want a bath with you!” You say it with a shaking voice while he sighs. He then lets go of you and lets you crawl from the bed, pushing your shirt down before you look for the nearest corner.
He looks at you when you sit with your back pressed against the wall, your legs pulled up, and against your chest while you rest your head on your knees and stare at the wall.
“Babe, come here. I’m sorry, oke. But seeing you so often go out with your friends makes me go crazy. And when someone comes over here, they can see that you’re mine. I love you, babe,” he says, his voice soft.
You turn a bit to face him; his steel blue eyes look so soft, and his lips are curled up into the sweetest smile. “How about I make it up to you?”
You narrow; what does he understand when he says he is making it up to you? You shake your head; he just made you a tattoo with his name. But with his question, the anger inside of you grows, and the pain on your skin turns into anger too. With a clenched jaw, you let a small chuckle escape your lips. “Wanna make it up to me?”
He nods his head, getting up from the bed and walking a few steps closer. You immediately press yourself more into the corner. Steve sighs before he gets on his knees and reaches his hand out for you to grab or for him to touch you. “Yes, let me make you feel good.”
“Making me feel good — maybe with another tattoo? Or do you want to make it up, and I can make a tattoo on your fucking dick?” You ask with a low chuckle.
Steve’s jaw clenches, and he grasps your arm harshly, pulling you off the floor and back to the bed. “Can’t fucking appreciate it, can you? Just made you mine, or else someone else would have fucked you. Are you such a whore that you want someone else to fuck you?”
“I would prefer everyone in that city instead of letting you fuck me!” You shoot at him, trying to wiggle out of his tight grip, but he turns the two of you around and takes a seat on the bed while he pushes you onto the ground in front of him.
“Would you?” Steve’s voice is calm, and it causes you to shiver. His blue eyes are darkened; he grips your neck and squeezes lightly. You nod your head, trying to ignore the tight grip of his hand around your throat. “Then you can start to show me that you can be a good girl.”
“Thought you wanna make me feel good?” You ask, looking through your lashes and trying to grin. But his hand is squeezing even more, and you feel yourself panicking when he just doesn’t want to let go of your neck. “I’m sorry, p—please.”
“Good girl, beg Daddy to let go of your neck. Fuck— could look at you sitting between my legs all the time, begging for me. Sit still!” He demands, his fingers letting go of your neck, and he brings them to your cheek, his thumb slipping over your lips before he pushes his digit into your mouth. Steve groans before he removes his thumb.
Steve lets go of you and brings his hand to his belt, unbuckling it before his hand disappears in his pants. He is freeing his weeping cock. You whimper, your eyes widen when you see his huge length, the tip read, and pre-cum is leaking down his thick, veiny shaft. His hand is wrapped around his cock while he gives himself a few strokes, smirking at you.
“Like that, love? Knew you would love seeing me jerk off and come all over your face,” he says, grinning when you slowly move away from him. His free hand immediately snaps out to grasp your neck again, and he pulls you closer. “Sit still! Wanna give you all of my cum.”
His thumb moves over his tip, and he groans while bucked his hips forward, thrusting into his hand. You can’t move away; his grip is too tight around your neck, and you swallow harshly, trying to look at something else at least. Steve pushes your head even further toward his cock, grinning. His dick is the only thing you are able to look at unless you look up. Then you would look at his lower belly, covered with his shirt.
“Look at my cock when I come all over your face, babe,” he groans, his cock twitching in his hand. He pumps his length at a steady pace, his thumb brushing every now and then across his tip, and he smears his pre-cum all over his cock.
Even though you didn’t want to see it, you kind of like it. Steve's dick is beautiful, and you can’t help the growing wetness between your legs, soaking your panties slowly. “C—Can I do that?”
For a moment, he is narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to the side before he recognizes the way you press your thighs together. Steve loves that his action of jerking himself off in front of you has such an effect on you, and he lets you gladly help him with his hard cock. “You can wrap your hand around my length and pump it.”
You nod, lifting your hand, and wrap your fingers softly around them. The brown-haired man immediately groans loudly when your soft and warm hand is wrapped around him, moving up and down. Your eyes are focused on the leaking tip, and then you let them wander down his shaft. Using your fingertips to slide them along his vein before you wrap your fingers around his cock again.
Steve smirks at you. He looks at you for a while — addicted to your hand around his cock, your soft touches, and the way you clench your thighs to get some friction between your legs. He then looks behind you, and a big mirror shows your back and ass. Steve lifts your shirt and smirks; he can see his name written down over your ass.
A pornographic moan leaves his lips when he thrusts into your hand, almost hitting your face since he still holds you close to his dick. The sight of his name on your lower back and the steady movements of your hand around his cock bring him closer to his orgasm. His balls are heavy, and his dick twitches.
The man grasps your hand, removing it from his cock, and causes you to whine. “Don’t whine; you can get my cock. But I said I would come all over your face. You look so fucking gorgeous with my name on your back; you belong to me, babe.”
You whimper, staring at his cock while he thrusts into his hand. His eyes are focused on your back; Steve is going feral with that sight; his moans and groans get louder, and he is about to come, giving you his cum and painting your face white with it.
With a few more strokes and a loud groan, he comes all over your face, shooting his seeds all over it and smirks satisfied. He could come once again just from you having his cum across your face and looking through your lashes at him. Your tongue is sliding over your lips, licking the cum off of them, and a desperate moan is leaving your lips when you taste him.
“Yeah, like my cum, huh? Pump you full with it; you’re so sexy with my cum all over your face, making me go feral for you,” he groans, leaning down, pushing you away before he presses his lips for a passionate kiss against yours.
It’s rough, and he immediately asks for access when he glides his tongue over your lips, getting it when you part your lips and let him explore your mouth with his tongue. The tingling feeling in your lower stomach grows; your pussy is dripping.
“Let’s clean your face,” he says after pulling away from the kiss. His fingers swipe over your face, grazing his cum. Steve holds them in front of your mouth, waiting for you to twirl your tongue around them and clean his fingers. You moan softly, sucking on his digits, before he repeats his actions and lets you lick off his cum until your face is clean. “Good girl, deserving a reward for helping me to jerk off and eating all of my cum, huh?”
You immediately look up into his beautiful steel-blue eyes, nodding your head. Steve chuckles, letting go of your neck and getting off the bed, starting to strip. “Take off your clothes; I’m hungry, and I want a meal before I pump you full with my cum.” His voice sounds so rough and sexy that you obey, smirking while you do what he asks you for.
He may be a dick, but he is a hot dick, and you’re pretty sure he can help your tingling and dripping cunt perfectly. Maybe he isn’t that bad; he loves you, so you can learn to love him too, right? You definitely can, especially when you see those pretty blue eyes roaming over your naked body like he looks at his prey, ready to eat your pussy.
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// Taglist //
@kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel
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highonmarvel · 10 months
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Honest
Steve Kemp: Steve’s never lied to you. 18+ only!
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Dub/Non Con Warning!
more content warnings here!
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“I’m gonna keep you alive, for as long as I can.”
You would have scoffed if you were in less of a frantic state. Though it had only been two months, you had grown to trust Steve; he had never lied to you, and you thought he never would. You trusted him so much that had he not already lied to you, you would believe him now.
“I don’t believe you,” you say shakily, trying to stop your body from trembling as you pull against the chain cuffed to your right hand.
He crouches down, and you can feel his eyes on you, but you’re too preoccupied with fumbling with your restraint to meet his gaze, despite deep down knowing how useless your effort here would be.
“I’ve never lied to you,” he says.
“You said you were a vegetarian,” you snap through gritted teeth, as you try hard at tugging your hand free.
“I said I don’t eat animals.”
You briefly pause your efforts—so momentarily it may as well not count—running through your mind the red flags you should have caught—but they were never lies. You want to berate yourself for getting so caught up in his charm, but, in your defence, how were you supposed to know your boyfriend was a cannibal? Maybe you should have been more wary he was a kidnapper, but a cannibal?
“Yeah,” this time you do scoff, “Eats pussy, eats people, what’s the difference.”
His serenity juxtaposed with your anxious effort to get free are driving you madder by the second.
“Stop doing that,” he mutters, but you don’t stop, instead trying harder, pulling harder, hands trembling harder, heart thumping harder.
“STOP!” he yells, and it startles you enough to pull your left hand away. He stands, towering over you and blocking the light, like a dark cloud blocking the sun to cause a storm.
“No!” you scream at him as you kick away the sheets of the thin mattress onto the cold floor, “Don’t touch me!” you shriek, cowering further into the corner, pushing up hard against the wall, willing it to swallow you up, even collapse against you—just anything to get you away from him.
He holds his hands up and shrugs, still cool as ever, as you throw your head back against the wall, eyes closed and chin outward towards him, nose to the roof as you will yourself to just. Wake. Up. Because this can’t be real.
You scramble to stand up and attempt to dart past him—for what, you’re not sure, maybe the chain will break or something, doesn’t matter, you just have to try something.
His eyes widen but he easily sticks out an arm and you run into it. You bend over his outstretched arm and start screaming and kicking. He pulls you against his chest, one arm wrapped firmly around your waist and the other caging your chest, his hand in your hair.
“Stop, stop, stop,” he coos, “Calm down.”
And against your better judgement you do, you slowly stop fighting against him, because no matter what, his warm arms wrapped around you and the scent of his earthy cologne relax you, like you’re conditioned to. You close your eyes and hope when you open them you’ll be back in your bed, Steve’s strong arms around you, and you were only kicking because you had an awful nightmare, but it’s okay, because Steve’s got you.
You peel your eyes open and deflate in disappointment, met with the same dim orange light and cold room, Steve’s arms around you.
You feel really stupid that you pretty much just walked into your cage, maybe you would have felt better if he had snatched you off the side of the road, because that wouldn’t be your fault. This… this did feel like your fault.
“Steve, let me go,” you demand, still out of breath.
He drops your body onto the mattress and you groan as you look up at him again. You know you asked, but you feel colder without him. You want to say I meant let me out of here, but he holds up a finger to stop you when he sees you open your mouth.
“Now why would I let my favourite girl leave?”
You physically cringe at his words. In any other context that would have you blushing and lightly squeezing your thighs together, but now, you hear the word favourite and your mind wanders to how many women he’s said that to… how many women he’s done this to.
“Would have thought you treated your favourite a little better,” you snap, and immediately regret it when his eyes go dark and his face falls. You suppress a shudder, and when the corner of his mouth quirks up, you try uselessly to back away even further. His eyes remain dangerous and his lips beautifully coy, his gorgeous features morphing a juxtaposition that terrifies you.
“You know I can make you feel good,” he drawls, tone heated.
“Steve, don’t,” you breathe, disgusted, by him, and by yourself, for you feel that familiar heartbeat calling out to him. Your body defies you, responding on its own to his drop in octave as you watch him crouch down to you.
He lays down next to you and moves his hand to your waist, “And you know… maybe I want you for myself. I already know you taste sweet.”
He smiles and traces his fingers further down to your thigh and squeezes gently.
You can’t look away from him, fixated on his steel blue eyes, mouth slightly open and breathing uneven.
Slowly, he moves to hold himself up above you, neat brown waves falling forward as he stares down at you, hunger-filled eyes raking over you. You know that look; he wants to devour you.
But… maybe in a different context this time.
Your nerves scale up as he moves down and places his head between your thighs, pushing them apart.
“Steve, please stop,” you whisper as he settles.
“You’re soaked already,” he remarks, before running his middle finger down your clothed slit. You writhe and you can feel his amused exhale against your heat.
Though every brain cell is screaming this is wrong, you can’t help but crave his mouth on you, and you’re so caught up in the idea you don’t even notice he’s slipping your underwear off until he leaves a gentle kiss on your cunt and you gasp, hands immediately flying to grip his hair.
He smiles before his mouth latches onto you.
Your hips buck into his face before he steadies you, his hands smoothing over your thighs and slipping underneath them to get a better (but still gentle) grip on you, pulling you closer to him. You let out a sob at a particularly harsh suck he gives and he grins before dipping his tongue back in and swirling.
“Steve…” you whine, and you can’t even tell for what; for him to stop, for him to never stop, you don’t know. With every swirl, lick, suck, you can feel your resolve starting to melt away, mere minutes into discovering you’re his fucking captive.
“You taste so fucking good,” he grunts against you, his voice cracking as he struggles to keep his composure, just as lost in the taste of you as you are in the feel of him.
You’re close and he knows it, “Cum for me, sweetness, please,” he begs, sounding nearly desperate. And you do, with an arch of your back and a heavenly moan falling from your mouth, you cum into his mouth, tears stinging your vision as you grip tighter onto his locks before letting your hands fall away to push weakly as his shoulders.
“See?” he says as he raises his head. You manage to look down at him, his nose and lower face glistening, coated in you, “You just taste so fucking good… the rest of you’s gotta to be as heavenly too, honey.”
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lanabuckybarnes · 1 month
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Brain rot, Brain rot.
18+ Minors DNI
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(I do not own any photos used, credits go to the original owners)
A little piece I’ve created about my favourite roles that Seb has played (the ones I’ve watched so far) because Mr Lee Bodecker and Nick have got me in a literal chokehold.
( I know about their red flags but girlies im colourblind).
Just wanted to try something a little different, Warnings are under the cut.
Pairing: Lee Bodecker x reader, Nick Fowler x reader, Steve Kemp x reader, Bucky x reader
Warnings: Spoilers for the movies, mention of Cheating (It’s Lee being unfaithful per usual), Dark Lee, Manipulation, Throat fucking, Size kink, Breeding Kink, Mentions of Pregnancy, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Teasing, Cock Warming, Pussy Eating, Mentions of Cannibalism, Biting, Dry Humping, Dark Steve I suppose (Steve being Steve), Voyeurism. DO NOT READ IF THESE TRIGGER YOU, if I’ve missed any warnings please let me know.
Whew Lordy.
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Lee bodecker is a filthy man, with 100+ glaring red flags and you still peruse him?! It’s a wonder the townsfolk don’t have you sent to the looney bin. He absolutely loves it when his little mistress (you) wraps herself in his leather coat, just the thought of you wearing it gets him all possessive.
He loves a lady he can manipulate— bend and train to his will. A girl that when he comes stomping into her little cottage she’s there with a steak on the table and her mouth open for him. Not only does a sweet little lady appeal to him because of their naivety but because of just how shy and innocent they really are.
If you in a pretty white frock while he fucks your face is the last thing he sees as he closes his eyes on this world, he’ll die a happy man.
Also size kink demon, loves when his thick hand engulfs your thigh or when you have to go onto your toes to kiss him, loves it when one of his big ole palms can hold your wrists above your head while he pounds away at you. It’s like a ritual now for him to sit his fat length over your pussy just before he plunges in, he loves imagining just how deep he’ll be hitting you when he fucks you.
Talks about getting you pregnant A LOT. You never knew it was a kink till you were talking with some of the older ladies about your ‘mystery man’. When you brought up the fact that he’s constantly moaning about swelling that little belly up, giving you his son, they all confirmed what he was experiencing was a thing most ‘manly men’ felt. They assured you it would be a great honour to have a man’s son but you played with the hem of your dress in guilt and shame, he wasn’t your husband and he thought of you as nothing more than his little side piece to make up for his boring wife.
Please ride this man while wearing his hat, he will not survive.
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Nick Fowler, I don’t really know much about him— I mostly watched clips of him on YouTube but I just imagine him with a phat daddy kink. When you whimper daddy for the first time he just about spurts right then and there.
Loves teasing the shit outta you, how many times have you came on his fingers and tongue? You don’t know but you feel fucked out— you don’t think you could handle another, Nick just scoffs.
“Come on baby another for me” he encourages, his sopping fingers circling your sensitive bud and all you can do is lie back and take it.
When he’s had a real bad day all he wants is for you to get those fucking clothes off and sit on his cock, you don’t have to move he just wants to feel your warmth and how you squeeze against him.
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Now if you think you were insane to go after someone like Lee you must actually be crazy to let Steve near you, even after finding out his little ploy, how you were nothing more than meat to him— you still let him fuck you. This man knows how to eat, he’s down there for every course, slowly spreading your folds with his fingers and liking a strip up from your hole to your clit before diving straight in. He’ll have you loosing your voice over the way you scream when he drags orgasm after orgasm out of your pretty body
Constantly talks about eating your flesh while he kisses you, occasionally biting down nice and hard leaving teeth marks all over the meaty parts of your body. Even before you found out he was a cannibal he’d be biting and licking on you, he called it sampling the meat before he bought in.
Dress up nice and pretty for him, he loves it. He loves nice light colours and lacy material, the way it makes your skin look all flawless and doesn’t clash with the dark marks he’s given you has him hard in his pants quicker than you could imagine. Another man who loves being fully clothed while you’re practically naked. Has cum in his pants an embarrassing amount of times when you’ve straddled him, grinding your lace covered kitty against his bulge.
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Although I write about him all the time I can never fully flesh out one of the fantasy’s I think of him in. This man, although awfully shy about his sex life with others, will and has absolutely ruined you in public places. A restaurant, he’s played with your little clit under the table and fucked you in one of the bathroom stalls, in a car while you, Sam and Steve were going on a road trip. Even once in Tony’s house during a party— Tony had almost caught you two bumping and grinding in his laundry room, the thought of how close you two were to being caught had Bucky biting on your shoulder and coming all up your back quicker than he’d ever done before.
I have no idea where all these come from but I’m loving it.
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the-iceni-bitch · 3 months
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𝕴 𝕾𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉'𝖛𝖊 𝕶𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖎𝖙 𝖂𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖓'𝖙 𝖇𝖊 𝖄𝖔𝖚
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𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝙺𝚎𝚖𝚙
𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎.
𝚂𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕'𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜.
𝚇𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜.
Relationship: Steve Kemp x female!reader
Words: ~900
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex), mention of injuries, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!
A/N: that’s three in 24 hours, I am spoiling you bitches.
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You rolled over in your sleep and let out a soft sigh, your arm reaching out towards the empty side of the bed while your eyes slowly dragged open.
Steve was late. You had tried to wait up for him but you were exhausted. It was hard not to be worried about him, you were always worried about him. No matter how many times he assured you that there was nothing that could keep him from coming home to you, you would never feel relaxed or relieved until he was sharing your bed.
The front door barely creaked when it opened but you still heard it, sitting up and bed and letting the covers pool around your waist while you waited for him to come to you. His footsteps were heavy on the stairs, and every thud of his boots made your body ache for him all the more. It had been too long, you needed him, you missed the sight of his face. Or, whichever face he would be wearing at the moment.
When he paused at the door to your room you just rolled your eyes, leaning back against the headboard and calling out to him.
“I’m already awake, Steve,” You beamed at him when he sighed and opened the door, the smile only faltering a little when you saw the blood and bruises on his skin. “Why are you so late? What happened?”
“Do you really want to know?” He let himself relax when you just shook your head, starting to remove his clothes slowly even as his eyes drank in your naked body. “Something bad kept me, so I did something bad to make it back to you, that’s enough. How do you always know it’s me?”
You shrugged as he continued to undress, your eyes never leaving his face. Today he looked especially handsome, with a chiseled jawline and a dimpled chin, thick, dark wavy hair you wanted to bury your fingers in and blue gray eyes that made you shiver. But he was still Steve, your Steve.
“I just do,” you pushed the covers back once he was naked, gasping when he immediately crawled on top of you and pushed your legs apart. “You’re mine, I’d know you no matter what.”
“I still think one of these days you’re going to end up welcoming some bad man into your house just because you think it’s me.” He licked his fingers and reached between your thighs, biting his lip when he found you already wet and ready for him.
“Well there’s no one as bad as you, Steve,” you arched your back when he pushed two fingers inside you and curled them against the roof of your cunt. “Besides, you’re the only one with a key.”
He chuckled at that, nipping along the curve of your collarbone and pulling his fingers out of your slowly before kissing you on the lips. Steve kept his mouth molded to yours as he pushed his cock inside you, swallowing your moan and gripping your thighs tightly as he sank into you until his hips met yours. There was a pause once he was fully sheathed inside the slick heat of your pussy, while you shared the same breath and he let you adjust to his intrusion. It was always like the first time with him, maybe that was why you found him so intoxicating.
You didn’t have long to dwell on that thought though when he started to move. His body rolled against yours and you gasped, reaching up to wind your fingers through his thick hair and sucking on his bottom lip while he fucked you in long, deep strokes. Steve moved his hands from your thighs to your waist to your neck, holding you almost delicately even as his hips started to slam into you. The only constant he had in this world was you, and being inside you was the only time he ever felt like he was home.
His lips never left yours while he fucked you. Whether he was kissing you deeply or murmuring soft praises into your mouth he made sure you were sharing the same breath. He smiled and nudged your nose with his when you came for the first time, his tongue flicking along the seam of your lips while your pussy clenched so hard around him you almost pushed him out. You kept clutching at his shoulders to keep him close, though, your eyes bright and wild before they rolled back in your head as he hit you deep.
There was no way to know how much time had passed before he finally came inside you. You were laying on your stomach and panting heavily, covered in sweat and trembling as you moaned at the sensation of his thick spend filling your fluttering cunt. When he collapsed on top of you and groaned you just smiled, winding your fingers through those of his unfamiliar hands and letting yourself drift off to the sound of his breathing. You always slept best when he was inside you, no matter his form. He was your home just as you were his, and no matter what he was, he would always be yours.
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Note
dinner with billy and steve? he clearly doesn't like daisy's boyfriend 🤣🤣
pairing: steve kemp x dark!reader
warnings: 18+ topics (under 18 year olds do NOT interact/reader), mentions of miscarriage
a/n: steve and the kemps are back. requests are back on!
part of toxic
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      - Steve, you’re being childish. - Y/N rolled her eyes as she finished fixing her hair in their dresser. - Daisy is seventeen. Did you not expect her to one day date someone?
       - Yes. After you and I died so I wouldn’t have to bear witness to seeing my precious little girl with some low life boy. 
       - She’s seventeen, turning eighteen in a few months. I know you don’t like it but she’s not a little girl anymore. - she turned around to embrace her husband, his head falling on the crook between her shoulder and neck. - He’s good to Daisy and that’s all we can ask from one of our kids’ partners. He really likes her and she really likes him too. 
       - But he’s so annoying and he’s always touching her. 
       - You’re always touching me. - she retorted. - If you didn’t want your child’s love receiving language to be physical touching, you should’ve set a better example. 
       - And you allow him to pick her up, Y/N. His car is older than you, heck the car is older than me, Y/N. Our little girl is in an old death trap car as we speak. 
       - The car is fine, Steve. Besides, you promised Daisy you would be nice and polite and ask polite questions. 
       - Fine but if he kisses her once, I am serving him for dinner. 
       - STEVE! You will make this a nice occasion for our daughter so that she feels comfortable bringing her partner around or so help me god I will go celibate for the rest of your days and it will be nothing but short, short skirts and no underwear. Are we clear, Steve Kemp?
       - You don’t mean it. 
       - Wanna test it out? - she crossed her arms. - Because I am a financially stable woman. I can purchase as many sex toys to never need you again. 
       - Fine but if any of the other girls get a partner, I will riot. 
Before Y/N could reply to her husband’s child-like behaviour, the bell rang. She gave Steve one more warning look before making it down the stairs. She had deemed fit to send the girls and William to stay with Johnny for the evening, mostly not to have an overwhelming dinner with the siblings and Steve being overprotective. After all, poor Daisy needed all the help she could get. She went downstairs and towards the entry door, opening the door to see a sight she wasn’t expecting. Daisy stood next to her boyfriend in one of her passed down dresses, while her boyfriend was holding a bag of peas against his eye. 
     - Oh my ... - she mumbled, hoping her daughter wouldn’t hear. 
     - I’m sorry we’re late, mum. We got ... caught up. - she looked at her shoes before looking back at her mother. 
     - Wow, what happened to you William? - Steve came up from behind Y/N. - Did that silly car of yours finally blow up?
     - No, Dr. Kemp. - he replied. 
     - Come on, Steve will have a look at it. - Y/N invited the couple into the house, closing the door behind her. Daisy stuck by her side, her head slightly leaning against her mother’s shoulder. - What happened?
      - Billy got into a fight. - she gave Billy an annoyed look but he just shrugged. - You can’t get into a fight with someone just because they were rude to me. 
      - They weren’t rude to you, they grabbed your ass. I am not sorry. 
      - Who touched you? - Steve perked up from checking his daughter’s boyfriend’s eye to look at Daisy. - Someone touched you. 
      - It’s no big deal, dad. Don’t encourage him. Mum says violence is never the answer. 
      - Yes unless they touch you, then you tell me and I kill them. - Steve crossed his arms. 
      - Told you so. - Billy added. - Besides, he only got a punch to the eye, babe. It’s no big deal, he looks worse anyway. 
      - Good boy. - Steve mumbled receiving a look from Y/N. - Should we have dinner?
      - Did dad ever hit someone because they were mean to you, mum? - Daisy asked her mum as they followed behind the two men. 
      - Well, darling ... be grateful your boyfriend only hits them. Your dad’s a bit more ... proactive. 
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imyourbratzdoll · 6 months
Text
𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏’𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕
🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️
summary - being the granddaughter of the witch that tried to eat hansel and gretel wasn't fun, especially when they come back to seek revenge.
warning - smut, dubcon, swearing, spitting kink, spit roasted, threesome, kidnapping, mentions of death and eating children, mentions of attempted abandonment, oral sex, creampie.
18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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Steve Hansel and Nick Gretel (their parents were hoping for a girl) made a pact years ago to never enter the woods again, not after that fateful day of crossing paths with the witch. When they were kids, their mother had unfortunately passed away, causing their father to find solace in the arms of another. They remembered the wedding clearly, how their hearts nearly beat out of their small chests as their father remarried the woman who would bring hell to their small family.
The hatred that leaked from their stepmother’s flesh could only be noticed by them; their father too blind with heartbreak to even notice. At their age, they were too young to understand why their father would remarry if he wasn’t in love with the woman. But as they grew older, bypassing the trauma they experienced. They began to realise their father was trying to fill a void with the first woman that passed. 
The one thing you should never do in a fairytale is trust the stepmother, the boys learnt this the hard way. Their family wasn’t the wealthiest, having to survive off the small crumbs that they could find or gather. They trusted the woman when she had said that she found some food they could harvest not too far from their home. Steve being the smartest out of the two, made sure to fill his pockets with some rocks, nodding toward his brother Nick before they followed, creating a small path along the way so they wouldn’t get lost. Their stepmother left after distracting them long enough, ensuring that she could finally get rid of the two extra mouths to feed. 
But the boys didn’t worry as the older of the two, gripped his brother’s hand and led him back home. Following the small rocks, and once they stepped foot out of the dreadful woods, they were greeted by their father who had been worried sick. As a small child, you’d think nothing of this, but as their father wrapped the two into a warm, loving hug. Steve looked over his shoulder, resting his chin on his father and smirked at the fuming woman, her lip sneered upwards as she realised her plan had failed. 
Her second attempt had somewhat succeeded; she lured the boys back out with the promise of more food. Steve having not collected any rocks that week, grabbed his leftover bread and decided to use that as their way back home. Yet, he had forgotten that they were not the only hungry creatures living in the woods. As a child when you get lost, you become scared and you don’t know what to do, you expect for an adult to come and save you because how could a child do that for themselves? They weren’t built to protect themselves, they had adults for that, adults to learn from so that they could carry on protecting when they got older. The boys were terrified, but Steve wouldn’t show it because it was then that he realised he would be the one protecting his brother from now. 
Hands gripped tight, they wondered through the woods hoping to find their way back home until a small shout came from Nick’s mouth, Steve’s head whips around and his eyes widen when he sees a house made completely of gingerbread, decorated with the finest lollies, he could feel his mouth water and before he could stop his brother. Nick dropped his hand and took off running toward the delicious looking house. His mouth already opened as he began to nibble on a pillar, his stomach filling immediately. Steve caught up with him and slowly begin to eat as well, what harm could this do? They were kids, living in a poor home with barely any food to keep their stomach from rumbling every five seconds. 
This was where the real horror began, an ugly old woman slammed open the door, screaming at them before she dragged the boys inside. Again, another promises them food, as if there were a giant sign on their head signalling, they needed it. Steve’s eyes darted around the home, connecting with those of a girl’s, her eyes wide and lips pouted. He wondered if the two were related or if she was also kept prisoner as the wicked old witch shoved the boys inside a small cell. She kept mumbling on about filling them up and eating them, causing the boys to try, and come up with a plan to get out of there. 
The witch called upon the youngest, telling him to help her with the oven door. The young girl watched from the corner, observing, and ignoring as the eldest boy tried to get her attention. Her grandmother wouldn’t like that, she wanted the young girl to continue studying their witchcraft, wanting her to continue their legacy if anything ever happened to her. She watched as the oven door managed to open, and her grandmother turned toward her, something that she shouldn’t have done as it distracted her from the boy beside her. 
“Y/–” The witch is cut off, a scream leaving her as Nick pushes her fat body into the oven. The girl too shocked to move, she felt her body freezing up instead of rushing over to help. Nick stumbles towards his older brother, yanking the cell open and running with him as they escape. Steve turns his head, eyes connecting with the young girls, he gulped as her face slowly morphed into an evil look, her eyes narrowed and dark, with a promise that she will one day become strong enough and find those that killed her grandmother. 
As the boys ran for their lives, twists, and turns, narrowly missing the trees and bushes. They somehow managed to exit the woods and head toward their home where their father was, again worried sick for them. He pulled the boys into his arms, holding them tight and listened as they went on about their stepmother and then the witch. None of the boys noticed that the stepmother never made it back, getting lost herself and the father was glad that his boys were home again. Steve and Nick looked at each other and that day they made a pact to never step foot in those woods again. 
That pact was broken as the now men wandered into the woods. “I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t step foot into these woods again?” Nick sneered, not being able to ignore the chills that spread through his body at the thought. He gripped the sword tight, one that matched his brothers. 
“Father is old, Nick. We are barely passing by as it is, and we need the food. You know that for us to be here again, it is our last resort.” Steve tried getting his brother to understand, he didn’t want to be in these woods either. Not after the look that young girl gave him, after that day he had managed to get the town in on searching for her, of course some believed there was a witch in the woods as their own children have gone missing. But they had all come up empty, which left him to think that they were related. It would explain the look she gave him as they ran out of there. 
After that day, the brothers became a bit darker, smarter. Their minds had twisted, no longer sweet and innocent. Nick grunted, kicking a rock that got in his way and watched as it flew across the ground. “I know, but. It feels…” He paused, not knowing what word to use to describe the feeling. 
“I feel it too.” Nick felt somewhat relieved that his brother could feel what he felt too, but he didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. “Come on, we better get going before dark.” Steve ushered his brother forward, heading in a direction opposite the one that caused their trauma. They took cautious steps as they wandered through the woods, managing to gather some food and kill some animals.
Nick hit his brother’s arm; eyes wide as he gestures to a house in the middle of nowhere. A replica to the one many years ago. Steve can feel rage build inside him as he stares, wishing the place would burn down. “That can’t be the same one. We went another way!” Nick exclaims, horror filling his bones. 
Steve launches forward, his feet stomping against the dirt and leaves as he heads toward the house. Nick stumbles along, trying to stop his brother even though he feels the same rage deep inside. They both release a breath as they stop in front of the door, the sweet scent of gingerbread filling their senses. Before Steve can knock, the door flings open, and their mouth falls open.
You stand there, your hair perfectly wild and your long black dress falls gracefully while hugging your figure. Your eyes are sharp as you glare at the two men, it was as though they couldn’t breathe. You were so beautiful, practically glowing as you stared them down. “Who do you think you are trespassing onto my property?!” You growl, starring up at the men as they tower over you. You could feel it in your bones, they felt familiar, as if you knew them from somewhere. 
Steve’s eyes widen more than before, your eyes. He had seen those eyes before, his brows furrowed, and the rage continued to build as he connected the dots. You had grown, it wasn’t hard for him to remember those eyes. They had haunted him for years, striking fear deep inside him and his brother. “You! You’re the little girl!” He fumed, only to be held back by his brother as he tries to step forward. 
Your eyes widen slightly as you begin to remember who they are. The men that made you an orphan, causing you to watch as your grandmother cooked. “Oh!” And like that, ever so subtly. Your demeanour changes, a soft smile replacing the frown, your eyes lighten and your back straightens. “You’re the boys that saved me! Come in! Come in!” You usher them in, sneering and coiling on the inside as those words slip from your lips. This was the only way you could get revenge, a life for a life. “I’m just preparing myself some dinner if you two would like to join!” 
Steve and Nick cautiously follow you inside, looking around. “It’s not children, is it?” Nick lets out a small ‘ow’ while rubbing his head when Steve whacks him, giving him a ‘what the hell’ look. Your soft laugh causes them to slightly relax, thinking you might be different.
On the inside, your laugh is cruel, wicked. You couldn’t wait to watch the brothers burn, finally getting the satisfaction after all these years. “Of course not, why would I eat children?” You bat your lashes innocently at him, smirking inside as he blushes. It was now or never, you needed this. “Could you please help me?” You pout, knowing you have the youngest brother in your palm. “I–I’m too weak to open the door… And I usually end up hurting myself.” It was a long shot, maybe they’d connect the dots, maybe they wouldn’t but you were so close.
Nick nods, beginning to head over. A sense of Deja-vu hits him but he ignores it, you seemed so cute and innocent. What harm could someone as tiny as you do? Steve watches, his stomach twists, trying to tell him something and out of the two brothers he listens. You seemed distracted, only watching Nick so he decides to move slow, sneaking behind you. 
You noticed too late, a gasp falls from your lips as Steve grabs hold of you, locking your arms behind your back, pressing against his front. “Let go of me!” You struggle against his hold, sneering at them. “I swear to god if you don’t let me go, I’ll make you regret this!” You yelp as Steve tugs on your arms harshly, pushing you toward your large wooden table. 
Nick blinks, looking between you and the oven before letting out a gasp. “Oh my god! It was going to happen again?!” Steve rolls his eyes, gesturing his brother to come help. Nick quickly stumbles forward, taking over for his brother while Steve walks into your line of vision. He crouches down, looking into your eyes while he reaches forward and tucks a fall piece of hair behind your ear. 
“Did you really think we’d be stupid enough to fall for that a second time…” Steve looks at Nick before shaking his head, looking back down at you. “Okay, maybe one of us wasn’t stupid enough.” He ignores the small ‘hey’ as he gives you a smirk. “What should we do with you, huh?” 
“Let me go!” You sneer, glaring daggers at the man. Nick groans as you push back against him, accidentally grinding against his bulge. You gasp, eyes widening. “You pervert!” You thrash around, your movements not helping the man behind you. 
Steve grins as he realises what he’s going to do to you. He reaches forward and grips your chin, tilting your head back enough that it begins to strain your neck. He leans forward, keeping eye contact. “We’re going to have some fun with you, little witch.” The force of his hand causes your mouth to open slightly and your walls clench around nothing as Steve spits into it. Never once has a mere human made you react like this.
You must have zoned out because when you blink, the brothers had swapped positions. Maybe you could taunt one, distract him long enough. You breathe, focusing on the one before you, letting your magic swirl around and enter him. You let out a giggle, “Nick Gretel… Oh, your parents must have–” Your cut off and your eyes widen as a hard but soft object enters your mouth, causing you to choke and gag as it hits the back of your throat. Your eyes move down and widen more as you realise what has entered, you can feel yourself dampen at how big and thick he is. 
“Oops, what was that, little witch?” Nick groans, feeling your lips tighten around his throbbing member, your tongue flicking instinctively around his swollen tip. “Shit, I think she’s enjoying this, brother.” 
Steve hums, having rolled your dress above your hips while you were distracted and swiping a finger through your glistening folds. “Of course, she is, she’s a slut. Isn’t that right, little witch? You were just desperate for attention.” You whimper around Nick, causing him to let out a groan and jerk his hips. Thrusting deeper into your warm, wet mouth. “You just want to be stuffed, huh? Have us use both your holes, fuck you until you’re dumb. Fill you with our cum, making you want and beg for more.” His words cause your eyes to roll back, your thighs becoming slicker at the thought. Steve smiles, nodding. “Just like I thought.” 
He stands, palming his throbbing cock before he releases it. A groan falls from his lips and shoots through to your core as his strokes the thick base. The older brother guides his mushroom tip through your lips, gathering your juices before he pushes in. “Oh fuck… She’s so tight.” Steve grunts, his eyes fluttering as he thrusts deeper, his cock being hugged by your delicious walls. His hands grip your hips as you squeeze him, your moans vibrate around Nick’s cock, and he shouts.
“Fuck! I’m not going to last if she keeps doing that!” Nick holds the back of your head; his head falls forward as he slowly fucks your face. He watches as his cock slides in and out of your mouth, drool slipping out the sides of your mouth, only the whites of your eyes visible. “Such a good little witch, taking me so well.” 
Steve thrusts into you hard and fast, holding you down. He groans as his hands move from your hips to your plump cheeks that jiggle with each thrust, he grips them, pulling them apart and squeezing them. “Fuck, who knew a witch could be so pretty. Not like the other one we met.” Steve makes a dig at your dead grandmother, causing anger to build inside of you only to be replaced with pleasure. You tense before slowly relaxing in their hold, sucking desperately on Nick’s cock while his older brother splits you open. 
The feel of their pulsing veins, sliding in and out of your holes, their scents invading your senses cause you to become dizzy. You have never felt something so intense before and in response your walls clench and unclench around Steve like crazy, sucking him in deeper, allowing him to hit the spots that are far out of your reach. You moan, tingles erupt throughout your body as Nick buries his cock into the back of your throat and releases, filling your mouth with his cum. 
You swallow as he pulls out, slouching into the chair behind him as he watches his brother destroy you with hazy eyes. “O–oh!” You bury your face into the wooden table, hands flying forward and gripping the edge tightly, causing your knuckles to whiten. 
Steve growls, leaning forward and towering over you. His hand moves from your arse to the back of your head and pushes it harder into the surface. “You like that, slut? Such a weak fucking witch.” You whimper, tightening around him as your vision becomes white and your juices coat his thick member. Steve groans, continuing to thrust before coating your walls with his cum. Like his brother, he gently pulls out and sinks into the chair behind him, half-lidded eyes watch as your cunt clenches and unclenches around nothing and his cum leaks from your tight hole.
Your chest moves up and down as you breathe, trying to push away the left-over pleasure that runs through your body, you slowly move and fix your dress before lifting your hands. As magic begins to swirl around you and the room, you prepare to get rid of these men once and for all. “This is for my grandmother.” 
The brothers ignore the shivers that roll through their body at how chilling your voice is, they look at each other knowing that they will have to do something and fast before the magic can hit them completely. 
Steve being the closet decides to distract you while his brother grabs something from his pocket, while your attention remains on Steve, you don’t seem to notice the other sneaking up behind you. You’d think you would learn after last time, but of course, you thought you were strong enough. Your eyes widen when you are suddenly grabbed and before you can even think of using your magic, a cloth is placed on your mouth causing your eyes to become droopy. “You should’ve just been a good little witch…” You hear one of them before you go completely limp.
As they head back in the direction of their home, with you in their arms. You would later learn when you awoke that you should never wait to strike revenge, especially as a witch.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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buchanans · 2 years
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SEBASTIAN STAN ✧ STEVE KEMP FRESH, 2022 dir. Mimi Cave
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sgt-seabass · 1 year
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I heard you escaped Steve's home!
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But is the man you bump into in the woods a friend or foe?
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𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏
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✧˚ · . 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘒𝘦𝘮𝘱. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦.
pairing — werewolf!bucky x reader w/c — 1.8k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. listening to — ♫ dark side of the moon, suisside warnings — general dark elements, allusion to steve kemp being a cannibal and holding women captive, reader is missing her left arm, non-major character death, reference to violence, reference to stabbing injury, werewolves lol, smut, non-con turned dub-con (p in v sex), breeding kink, knotting, tongue play kinda, possessiveness, monsterfucking, a kinda nice ending lol a/n — written on my phone. not beta read. navy you fucking menace look what you made me do 😌 thank you to @rookthorne for letting me scream at you about this.
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You’d done it.
Steve was dead.
After the locking mechanism to your cell had failed due to a storm overhead, you’d managed to get hold of a butcher's knife in the kitchen.
Steve hadn’t seen it coming when you plunged the knife into his chest while he napped on the couch. He didn’t die immediately. There was a struggle, and you sustained a stab wound to your side when Steve almost overpowered you.
It was hard as Steve had already given you a disadvantage. Several days ago, he had taken your left arm for his sick purpose.
But he was too weak from your sneak attack, and he collapsed on top of you with his dying wheeze.
You’d tried to free other girls, but you were the only one left. And when you’d found Steve’s phone, you were unsurprised to find there was no reception because of the heavy rain that battered down on the roof.
You dressed in one of Steve’s warm sweaters and sweatpants, tucking his phone into your pocket to keep it safe from the rain.
The left sleeve of the sweatshirt swinging empty, covered in his blood and your own, you stumbled out into the night.
The rain was pouring down, lightning flashing across the sky before the thunder rumbled. It was the kind of weather that made you want to snuggle into bed with a book and a cup of tea. Instead, you were stuck trying to find a neighbouring property.
Your bare feet sunk into the muddy earth as you dragged yourself into the woods surrounding Steve’s property.
Asshole. Living in the middle of nowhere.
You cursed Steve’s decrepit soul as you wandered into the forest. The flashes of light helped you make your way through the darkened trees, but it felt as if you were walking in circles, with no sense of direction to guide you.
After some time, you stopped for a break, your legs tired, and your body fatigued. You leant against the trunk of a tree, breaths coming out in short pants. Finally, the rain began to ease, the storm passing. The clouds opened up, allowing the moon to be revealed.
You marvelled at it for a moment—a beautiful full moon.
If this is where you were destined to die, it was pretty at least.
The sounds of wolf cries into the night sounded, but they fell on deaf ears as you focused on keeping yourself conscious.
Your hand clutched at your left side where Steve had stabbed you, the wound throbbing and making you woozy. Maybe you could rest a little. Just sit and close your eyes for a while.
You slumped against the bark, your legs beginning to give way as your vision blurred with a vignette at the edges. Was this your final curtain call?
The wind howled through the trees as you fell to your side, your blood mixing with the mud. You were just so tired.
Another cacophony of animals sounded, growls and barks nearby. But it didn’t matter, not when your body was ready to bid the moon an eternal goodnight.
With a grunt, you rolled onto your back, tears swelling as you gazed at the glowing full moon.
I’m not ready to die. Mr Moon, won’t you grant me a second chance?
Your eyes closed, and everything went dark and silent.
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It was hard to discern what you noticed first as you came to.
Was it the snarling and panting? The wet slobber of a large tongue across your skin? The fur that tickled you? Or the cock that was nestled at your entrance?
Definitely the last one.
You opened your eyes with a gasp, and you screamed at the sight of the thing on top of you.
A monster. Pearly white sharp teeth, a large imposing figure, and dark fur that covered its whole body.
You were pinned down on your back by a werewolf. Like a picture book come to life.
The wolf-man didn’t seem perturbed by your screams. He was feral enough as it was. His drool dripped from his snout onto your chest, your clothes already torn away while you were unconscious.
Shit, the phone. You tried to sit up to find it, but large claws dug into your skin as a warning not to move.
“Are you going to kill me?” It was a bold move asking the beast a question, but he didn’t answer, instead licking a long stripe up your neck and over your cheek.
The werewolf licked at your side where your wound was, and you gasped when you glanced down to see it healed. Did he save you?
“What—? I— I don’t understand—“ You were silenced when the wolf brought his tongue to your lips, invading your mouth with his wet muscle.
You tried to squirm, but the beast held tight as he fucked your mouth with his tongue, his huffs getting deeper as growls rumbled from him.
His inhumanly large cock prodded at your entrance, your eyes going wide when you felt the way his natural lubricant gave him an easy slide in.
The werewolf pulled back with a howl as he sunk himself into your waiting heat, his fur puffing up and tail going rigid.
It was all too much. You’d expected death, and yet, you were at the mercy of a beast instead. The pleasure that came the deeper he got, and the more he stretched you was enough to have you howling too.
You felt full to the brim, and he was just over halfway. “Ah! Stop! You’re not going to fit!”
But the beast kept going. He curled his arms around you, cradling you against the forest floor before biting into your collarbone to stabilise himself.
He ignored your cries as he rutted deeper, rocking your body with his as he made you take his entire length.
You felt a little ridge when he reached the fuzzy fur at the base of his cock, and it was enough to have your nerves alight with arousal.
The scent of this mysterious man had your head swirling as if you had inhaled an aphrodisiac. His very being was turning your body into what he needed. A fleshlight to fuck his seed into.
He kept you close, sweat beginning to sheen across your skin with the heat radiating from him. When the beast started to thrust deep and hard, your fingers dug into his fur to hold on.
The beast whimpered when you touched him, and you properly got a look at him. Hulking and massive with red eyes that shone like a bright ruby. He was breathtakingly beautiful in a morbid way. A beautiful horror you couldn’t look away from.
You ran your hands down his arms, only then noticing that one arm wasn’t furry at all. It was metal, but the appendage had taken a beastly form too, so it suited the rest of him. It was his left arm, just like yours.
When your eyes met, the wolf thrust particularly deep, causing you to moan out. And you could swear there was almost a smile on his snout.
Resuming his brutal pace, the werewolf began fucking without resolve, like nothing more than an animal desperate for its primal release.
You had no choice but to hold on as he bit into your shoulder, holding you still like his prey as he panted and groaned, cock swelling bigger as he started getting rougher.
“Fuck! I can’t—“ A large paw covered your mouth, silencing any further words.
You were ready to keep protesting until the beast changed his angle, his sharp nailed feet digging into the dirt, and the bulbous tip of his cock pounding against your g-spot.
Stars burst behind your eyes, and your body began to shake uncontrollably from the absolute bliss that took over.
He didn’t stop. And before long, your toes began to curl as an orgasm approached.
Sensing your tensing body, the werewolf growled in your ear as if he was beckoning you to cum for him.
You let go, allowing the intense orgasm to wash over you.
Your sounds were muffled behind the man-beast’s paw as you came, your feet kicking at his back and ass as you shook. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before.
The wolf watched it all, drinking in the sight of you.
You felt the ridge at the end of his cock begin to get bigger, the ring of muscle catching at your entrance. It was a little painful as the knot pulled at your entrance with each feral thrust, but luckily the werewolf buried himself deep.
His pelvis ground against you as he whimpered and yipped.
An odd barked growl was the only warning you got before the knot swelled fully and plugged you.
The first shoot of cum entered you, and you moaned at how warm it was. Just like the rest of him. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself just to feel as you were filled with the seemingly never-ending stream of release.
The wolf moved his paw from your mouth, placing it on your belly where his seed was planted deep.
It gave you tingles, how his nails raked across your skin, not enough to cut but enough to leave marks.
He massaged your belly, causing some of the cum to seep around his knot, the pressure too much. You cried out, placing a hand over his to stop him. It felt odd.
The wolf looked at you, his head quirking and blood-red eyes narrowing. Was he insulted you tried to stop him?
“Mine.”
You were shocked at the deep timbre and surprisingly sultry tone of the werewolf. It was the first word he’d spoken, and it was enough to have your thighs clenching against his hips.
“It’s too much when you—“
“Mine.”
Alright. So he wasn’t a conversationalist. “Y-Yes. I got that bit. Uhm. Please don’t push on my—“
“Mine. Home.”
“Stop cutting me off— Wait. Home?” You asked incredulously, confused by the new word in the wolf’s vocabulary. But it started to make more sense when the man-beast picked you up, holding you to his chest as his knot kept you connected. He was taking you home.
He began walking, and you sighed at the sight of your clothes and Steve’s phone discarded in the mud.
So much for an escape.
“Do you have a name?” You conceded. If the beast was taking you home, the least you could do was know his name. Although, maybe he’d turn human again? What would he look like?
“Bucky.”
“Thanks for healing me, Bucky.” You murmured awkwardly, and the beast huffed in response. His knot finally let you go, so he moved you to his hip, carrying you like precious cargo even when his fur began to get wet with the cum that seeped from your core. “Do you know more than three words?”
“Mine. Home. Bucky. Mine.”
An amused snort left you. “That’s… not what I meant.”
You curled yourself into the werewolf’s fur. Despite the circumstances, he saved you. He made you feel good when all you’d experienced was pain and suffering.
For the first time in a long while, a smile graced your lips. This was undoubtedly a fate better than death.
“Pretty girl. Pretty smile.”
You glanced down, embarrassed from the compliment, just in time to see Bucky’s tail begin to wag. “So you do know more than three words.”
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softevnstan · 1 year
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Steve Kemp | Sebastian Stan | Fresh (2022)
Oh what a dream to wake up next to this smiling face.
Steve gets a really nice view.
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