Consequences 7
Warnings: This is a dark fic. Please do not read if you’re under 18, or are uncomfortable with dark characters, noncon, kidnapping, alchol mention, drug mention, asshole characters.
It was hard to tell how long you sat on the floor in shock, hands cuffed painfully behind you, your cuts had stopped bleeding but they ached. Behind his desk Steve was humming, filling out paperwork and glancing up at his computer every couple seconds. It was the phone ringing that snapped you out of it, Steve’s voice answering made your blood run cold, jumping at the sound of the receiver slamming down.
“Hope you didn’t forget about me,” Steve stood up smiling, making his way around the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up for dinner.”
Taking you roughly by the arm, Steve hauled you to your feet and began walking you out of the study. He drug you up the stairs, reaching behind you to unlock the handcuffs only after he shut and locked the door. The minute your hands were free, you spun around to slap him. For the second time, Steve stook your hand from the air before it touched him.
“Apparently you still haven’t gotten the message.” Steve was livid, his eyes dark, voice a snarl. “I don’t care how fucking long it takes, but you WILL listen to me, understand?”
The handcuffs had managed to stay off for less than thirty seconds. With hardly an effort, Steve threw you over his shoulder, walking swiftly to the bed. He threw you to the top, looping the handcuffs over a piece of metal on the frame. Before you could move he was on you, straddling your hips, immobilizing you.
“Baby I promised I’d make this harder on you if you wanted and it seems like you do.” He was smiling, thrilled to have trapped you.
“No, I just want to leave.” Your voice was barely a whisper, terror obvious on your face.
“You don’t get to leave sweetheart, it’s dangerous out there,” Steve cooed at you with the most concerned expression before slapping you across the face.
Ear ringing, there were tears on your face, blood in your mouth. Steve had a halo glow around him, leaning down to hold your face and give you the lightest kiss on the lips. Then he hit you again. Now both sides of your face stung, tears flowing, ears ringing, disoriented. Hissing in pain, your wrists pinched horribly as Steve flipped you over to your stomach.
There was the sound of ripping before you realized Steve had begun cutting your clothes away with a knife, smiling down at you below him.
“What are you doing?” You choked out in his direction.
“Shhh,” was all you got as Steve tore the remainder of the clothing from your body.
The pressure moved, Steve stood and you heard the clinking of a belt. Fully expecting him to climb back up on the bed and fuck you sensless, you screamed when his belt came down across your ass.
“You’re going to count to fifty starting with one, every time I spank you, okay baby?” Steve approached your head, stroking your hair even as you jerked away. Unable to speak, you just shook your head no. With a sigh, he moved away and hit you again.
Steve hit you with his belt half a dozen more times before you began to count. Stopping, he reached up and stroked your hair, a loving look in his eye.
“Good girl baby. Keep counting.”
“Two.” It was hard to speak.
You managed to get through twenty before you broke down into awful sobs; Steve kept going. It seemed like it would never end, you couldn’t feel anything but pain, gross sobs and screams wracking your whole body. After what seemed like hours, it stopped, you didn’t feel another hit. What you did feel was the bed dip, hands running up your bruised legs and between them.
“I hate to hurt you princess, but you have to listen.” Steve was breathing in your ear, you kept your face pressed to the mattress, not wanting to see him.
Grabbing your aching ass, Steve made you yelp, but his fingers playing with your clit were starting to make you feel fuzzy.
“You know I love you baby, right?” Steve’s voice was like someone grating your ear drums but his fingers were making you feel so good. “I can feel you baby, I know you love me too.” His fingers began to squelch, you could feel him hard against your leg.
Still not turning you over, Steve rubbed his cock through your wetness before sliding himself in slowly. Not able to stop yourself, you clenched down on him, your pussy happy to be filled with Steve’s cock again. It made you ashamed. Lifting your hips, he began to fuck you hard, each thrust hitting your freshly belted ass, making you yelp.
“Stop, Steve, please it hurts.” It was hard to speak around the pain and the tears.
“Shhh, it’s supposed to hurt, baby. How else will you learn your lesson?” This was the man Steve was, this was what you had tried so hard to run away from. This horrible man who had no problem hurting you, the man who seemed to love making you cry.
In the end, Steve knew you too well, he always did. Even while sobbing, he was able to pull two orgasams from you, slapping your ass painfully each time he felt you cum around his cock. Lightheaded, you hardly felt Steve cum, noticing only when he rolled off you and stood, stretching. You felt hands at your wrists, the harsh pricking of blood rushing back into your fingers.
There were arms picking you up, arms you didn’t want to be holding you, to be touching you. The bright light of the bathroom had you blinking as Steve set you down in front of the vanity.
You didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror. Hair in a thousand directions, dried blood running bruised eyebrow to chin, split lip swollen and aching. Reaching up to touch the dark hickies on your neck, the blue, purple and green around your wrists had you checking to make sure nothing was broken.
Steve tutted behind you, unhappy with the self examination. He pulled you into the shower, reminiscent of the night before. Exhausted, shocked and hurt you let Steve clean you. It almost felt nice when he shampooed your hair, his touches gentle as he ran soap over your skin. You accepted the towel he offered, drying gingerly.
Coming up behind you, Steve began setting out a dress, heels and your makeup on the vanity counter.
“We have dinner with guests soon, you need to get dressed.” He was waiting.
“Dinner?” You asked softly, “Guests?” It was a whisper.
“Do you want me to chain you to that bed and keep beating your ass? Because I will, if that’s what it takes.” Steve’s hands were on his hips, glaring at you across the bathroom.
You picked up the dress he had laid and turned away, though it was no use, Steve was already at your back to close the zipper. He pulled out the chair in front of the mirror and you picked up your old makeup brushes, not sure how you were going to cover up the mess.
Ultimately, there was no possible way to hide almost any of your injuries. The makeup wouldn’t cover the open skin on your eyebrow, lipstick couldn’t cover a swollen lip, foundation not nearly enough to hide the bruises still blooming across your cheeks and jaw. Mascara couldn’t hide the red from hours of crying, and your wet hair on top of everything else didn’t help. The red dress Steve had picked out came mid thigh, which meant some of the red marks across your legs were visible, and it was short sleeved, so the bruises circling your wrists were on full display.
“You look stunning,” Steve kissed your cheek, pulling out your chair so you could stand. You did not look stunning, you looked like an abused woman and anyone could tell. Taking your left hand, pausing to admire the diamond, Steve pulled you through his room and down the stairs to the dining room.
To your dismay, both Bucky and Sam were waiting at the table. A shit eating grin spread over Sam’s face when he saw you, Bucky smirking and turning away. Steve pulled out a chair for you across from Bucky and sat down opposite Sam.
“Well, it’s taken me long enough, but I am an engaged man!” Someone had brought a round of champagne to the table, Steve saw the opportunity for a toast.
Sam and Bucky raised their glasses with a cheer. A side eye and you raised your own, clinking it against the other three and taking a sip. You felt Steve’s arm around your shoulders, saw him lean it and let him kiss you, it was easier than being slapped at the dinner table.
“To us,” Steve said with a smile, “to us and our long, happy marriage.”
