A little more smut for you and some angst as well.
Natasha had no idea just how helpful she had been when she talked about how great hate-fucking could be.
As she and Steve laid together on the floor, catching their breath, Darcy realized she finally felt completely satisfied. She had a definite bruise on her shoulder blade from where he pinned her hard to the wall. She'd have marks on her wrists from his hands gripping them tightly. She figured out that the harder she struggled against his restraint, the firmer his hold had become. And the harder he fucked her. Twice he made her scream his name before he pulled out and came all over her stomach. He didn't release her or let her sit until she apologized and by that point, she was so satiated she would have agreed to anything. As soon as she was free of him, she slid to the floor, unable to move.
Steve cleaned her up and laid next her, running his fingers through her now disheveled hair. "I'm sorry, Darcy. I know you like your space and your order. I don't mean to push you like that."
"Steve," she whispered. "That was..."
"Completely uncalled for. I can't believe how rough I got with you, doll. I'm so sorry. I'm some kind of monster or something." His voice was shaking, and she could see the tears beginning to form in his sky-blue eyes.
"No, Steve," she cooed, wiping a tear away with her thumb. She wanted to tell him how much she liked it. How alive and connected she felt to him when his hands were on her like that. That there was nothing wrong with him because she provoked him and because she wanted it. But if he thought he was a monster for doing it, what would he think if he knew she liked it? He'd leave her, no doubt; he'd be unable to be with someone like her. "You're not a monster. We both got carried away. You're good." She gave him a light kiss. "And you're kind." Another gentle kiss. "And you're perfect, okay?" A third.
He responded as she hoped he would, bringing his hands up around her face and deepening their kiss. She could feel that the tears were still streaming down his face and her heart broke. She needed to do something, she knew she couldn't keep picking fights with him for this - he'd been through too much already. It wasn't fair to him.
So when he rolled her onto her back, and she felt his hardness against her thigh, she opened her legs for him. "I love you so much, Darcy Lewis," he whispered in her ear. "I'll never hurt you, you know that?"
"I know," she answered.
Nothing made Darcy feel more guilty than when Steve tried to make it up to her. He spent the entire next day in the kitchen making all of her favorite foods. He gave her foot rubs and brought home special treats from the bakery near the Tower. He even bought her favorite wine, a hard to find brand that they usually saved for special occasions. He also acknowledged that she needed her space and spent more nights alone at his apartment than either of them were used to. He even knocked now, when he did come over.
'Steve Rogers ruins everything,' she huffed, biting into one of the bagels he left for her. This was what they fought about so of course he would change those behaviors. Perfect Steve was the Perfect Boyfriend and right now, she hated it.
She needed to do something.
Pepper and Tony were hosting a Halloween party at the mansion and Steve was none too thrilled.
"I've never really been a 'Halloween' person," he grumbled as he and Darcy perused the adult costume section at one of the local costume stops.
"How is that even possible?" She asked, scowling at some of the ridiculous costumes that were apparently popular this year. Most were nothing more than scraps of fabric held together by tape and a prayer. "What about when you were a kid?"
"Halloween wasn't a big deal back then, just another day to go to church. Trick or treating didn't really take off until the late thirties. Besides my Ma had to work anyways most of the time."
"So you've never dressed up for Halloween? Ever?" When he shook his head she set her lips in a hard line. "We're going to change that. We'll be a tandem couple - dress up together, yeah?" She pulled out a police officer uniform and the sight made her instantly wet. Along with the uniform and hat was a nightstick and set of handcuffs. She inhaled sharply. They weren't cheap plastic toys, but cool, hard metal; real. He could handcuff her to the headboard of his bed and she wouldn't be able to move. She could already feel the metal digging into her wrists as she fought against them.
"A cop, Darcy? I'm already Captain America."
She jumped about a mile when Steve's voice broke into her fantasy. "Um, well, it was just the first thing I grabbed. But look," she reached back into the rack of costumes and pulled out a 'Sexy Jailbird' costume, "it has a partner."
"It's sexy," he commented, looking over her potential costume. It was a black and white striped dress that was cut lower than anything she had ever seen and looked like it would barely cover the girls. She thought it was the epitome of slutty but if it got him in the mood, and meant he'd use those handcuffs on her, she wasn't going to argue.
"What do you say, Officer?" she purred.
He laughed and kissed her temple. "I say you better be careful or I'll lock you up, Miss." He took both costumes and started up toward the front counter. The handcuffs caught a glint of light and she shuddered.
'I hope.'
"Oh my goodness! Look at your matching costumes!" Pepper gushed when she saw them. "You look adorable!"
Adorable wasn't the word Darcy would use, but then again she wasn't the CEO of Stark Industries either.
Steve had rounded up a pair of dark aviators and a horrible blonde stick-on mustache to complete his police officer look. The nightstick sat in the holster on one hip and the handcuffs dangled from the other.
She couldn't even stand next to him without the cold metal bumping her thigh, sending excited shivers through her body. Only a few hours, then she could convince him she was ready to leave and those handcuffs could be put to good use.
The party was everything Darcy expected it to be - booze, music, provocative costumes, and embarrassing stories of parties past. Tony reassured them the real cops wouldn't care, since the head cops were all present at the party themselves, so the music just got louder and the party-goers got drunker as the night went on.
At some point Steve sauntered over to where Darcy and a quiet blonde, Sharon Carter, were talking. "Evening, ladies," he said in a deep drawl, tipping his hat to them. He still had his aviators on, even though they were indoors, and his mustache had thankfully fallen off earlier in the night.
Sharon giggled. "Officer," she answered back. "What can we do for you today?"
Steve was drunk on Asgardian mead enough to completely play into the act. "I got a complaint that there was too much sexiness in one corner and I've been ordered to break that up."
Sharon leaned over and whispered in Darcy's ear, "You should flirt with him - see how he reacts to being propositioned." She winked as she pulled away, leaving Darcy with a shocked expression. She had been talking to Sharon most of the night and never expected the quiet, solemn girl to be so forward.
"Is that so, Officer?" Darcy asked, standing up from her spot on the couch. She ran her hand over Steve's muscular arm.
"I'm afraid so, ma'am. I'll have to give you fine ladies a citation."
"Oh no. Darcy, we can't possibly get one more citation," Sharon answered in a playful voice.
Darcy shook her head and dropped her hands to Steve's waist. "That's right, Officer. There must be something one of us can do instead?" She looped her fingers through his belt and pulled him closer to her. "Can you think of anything that might work?" She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him through her eyelashes.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to cuff you, Ma'am." He pulled the handcuffs out of their spot and spun Darcy around so her back was to him. She gave a sharp inhale when she felt the increased pressure around her wrists.
"You two have fun," Sharon winked as Steve led Darcy away out of the ballroom and into an empty hallway.
"I've been waiting to do that all night," he said, whipping his sunglasses off and smiling at her. "You've been so preoccupied with your new friend."
"She's nice. You'd like her."
"I do. And Sam definitely does. They met after the whole Shield-ra mess."
Darcy looked over his shoulder to where Sharon was still sitting on the couch, watching in amusement as Sam did whatever he could to impress her. "I think they'll be cute together."
Steve kissed her and reached into his pocket for the small key and unlocked the cuffs. "You ready to have these taken off?"
"Oh, I don't know, Officer. I might be a flight risk. Maybe it's best if you keep them on. Maybe keep in me in an isolated area?" She wasn't quite ready to give up the act yet; she hadn't fully experienced being completely unable to move her hands and she suspected he wouldn't let her whip this costume out at random.
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Darcy?"
She held her wrists out in front of her. "That's exactly what I'm suggesting." He cuffed her again. When he was done, she closed the gap and kissed him fiercely. She could taste the sweet mead he had been drinking when their tongues met, and she let out a muffled moan.
"I'm taking you downtown, young lady," he murmured against her mouth.
"I've been a very bad girl, Officer."
No one was paying the couple much attention when they left, a good thing since he couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself. One stayed attached to her conjoined wrists and the other slipped under her v-neck to cup her breast.
She could barely walk, full of anticipation of how far he'd be willing to push this game of theirs, and arched back against him. His lips attached to her neck, sucking and nipping at the skin, making her pant his name.
The mansion had plenty of spare bedrooms, so Darcy and Steve knew they could claim one all to themselves, and chose the one furthest from the party. "You've been a very bad girl, Darcy Lewis."
"Very naughty," she agreed. "I expect you'll want to punish me for it?" For once, she was glad he was semi-drunk and susceptible to her suggestions for role play; because he seemed to be completely into the character.
"What should your punishment be, I wonder? Better yet, what do you think your punishment should be?"
She dropped to her knees in front of him and quickly unbuckled his belt. "I think you should let me suck your cock."
"We'll start there," he agreed, pushing his uniform pants down and freeing his already hard penis.
She eagerly took him in her mouth, using her hands together to pump him as she swirled her tongue around his head.
"Fuck yes, Darcy," he groaned when she took him as deep into her mouth as she could without choking. His hands tangled themselves in her hair and gave a sharp tug.
She whimpered excitedly, heat pooling between her legs. Each time he pulled on her hair, she'd find a way to take a bit more of him, and the wetter she became. He had never really been that aggressive before, so she thanked the mixture of alcohol and role playing.
He pulled away suddenly and walked her to the bed. "Get on your hands and knees at the head of the bed," he instructed.
She crawled to the headboard on her knees and looked back at him.
"Like this?"
"Perfect." He grabbed ahold of her wrists and looped them around the frame on the headboard, effectively chaining her to the bed. In that moment, it was as if he were inside her head, reading her every desire and fantasy, and she could honestly say she had never wanted him more. He raised the skirt of her dress onto her back and ran his hand over the curve of her ass. He chuckled as her body mirrored the movement of his hand. "You like this, Darcy?"
"Yes," she moaned, watching him over her shoulder.
He gave her ass a hard slap and she made a high pitched whine, unlike anything she had ever heard before. "You really like that, don't you, you bad girl?" He slapped her ass again and she felt her knees buckle.
Where did this Steve came from?
She had no idea, but she hoped he'd stick around for a long time. A really long time.
Without warning, he slammed his cock into her and she let out a long moan. He pulled completely out and slammed into her again. Over and over, pulling out, slamming in, slapping her ass with every stroke.
Her nerves were firing faster than ever and she was in sensory overload. If anyone came near this section of the house, they'd be able to hear her screams over everything else. Her throat burned and her ass was raw from the imprint of his hand, but she didn't want him to stop. She begged him to continue, begged him to pull her hair harder as he fucked her.
Tears were streaming down her face, but she couldn't tell where the painful tears ended and the excited tears began, so she let them. She felt like she was on fire and never wanted to be extinguished. She came over and over, pulsing around his cock until finally he came with a loud grunt and collapsed on top of her.
He freed her hands from the handcuffs and she rubbed the near-bleeding skin. She didn't realize she had been pulling them that hard, but it was just one more element of the pain that added to the experience. "Holy shit, Darcy," he panted, pulling her onto his chest. "We'll make sure to get you something for your ass. It's going to be sore as fuck tomorrow."
"I'll just have to think of it as a battle scar," she teased, secretly loving the throbbing sensation that filled her body.
"Do you think you learned your lesson?"
She sighed contently against him. She most certainly had.
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