#steve kemp apologist club

[littlelioncub43]

Steve bringing over some fresh meat (wink wink) for reader, so she can feed her basement husband Robert🥰

Hehehe silly thang.

I'm weirdly only getting a small opening blurb for this so this is what we're going with!

With the sun finally dipping below the horizon, the sterile house around you seemed to soften. The warm lights that you had picked out were much more inviting than the blinding white lights Steve originally installed.

You're such a surgeon, it kills me, you teased.

Oh, don't tease, sweetheart, only I get to kill you, he cooed.

Humming a soft tune, you began to gather what you needed. Cutting boards, pots, pans, spoons, knives— all were neatly tucked away in the kitchen, your kitchen now. Steve would be home soon, so you might as well get as much prep done as you could before he arrived. You hated when your counter tops were too cluttered.

The rhythmic slices of onions, garlic, and potatoes always soothed you, it put you in just the right state of mind, one that you can relax and let loose in. The sound of Steve's car pulling in the drive stole you away from your little bubble, the organized bowls of ingredients neatly set in front of you made you smile. Man, time does fly when you're having fun.

You hear Steve's voice, no doubt charming another woman, or man, or whomever was unfortunate enough to be taken in by your husband. He was a flirt, unbearably smooth-talking. He could charm the bees out of the hive if he wanted to. You told him he'd make a damn good politician, but he scrunched his nose and chuckled 'they give too many speeches.'

You're busy sharpening your knife as he rounds the corner, some pretty little thing following blindly behind him like some poor puppy. Her bashful smile at whatever he said is quickly lost the moment she sees you.

"O-Oh," she squeaks, frozen in her spot as she watches Steve round the counter top, making his way over to give you a loving peck. "I-Im sorry, I didn't kno–"

"It's alright, darling," you soothe her with a gentle smile, she relaxed ever so slightly at your calming voice, just as you wanted. You quickly drink in her form: supple flesh, rounded cheeks, glowing skin— oh, she's perfect. Bobby'll like her, you thought. "Steve told me he invited you over for dinner. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," she nodded.

"Good," you grinned, "so are we."

[littlelioncub43]

Murder mondays with steve kemp

Both are making a meal and both are cannibals ones just the messy mash and the other cooks the person in a elegant manner

The way I came running the moment I saw I got an ask for Steve Kemp

Oo he makes me feel things. Things that he probably shouldn't make me feel. But! Thats why I have a blog! Anywhore!

I am weirdly getting the vibe that Steve is the messy cook in this situation. He's having fun with it. Being himself. Living it up. He's watching you move through your kitchen with such ease and grace, the way you treat your produce and flesh is just so... sensual. Youre both making dinner to share, showcasing how versatile a certain protein can be. He loves it, you love it— it's a great time.

He high key gets turned on watching you cook. But thats neither here nor there