#mafia Steve x forensic scientist reader

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Chapter 1: Fix Your Shoelaces

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: Two simple pleasures in life include sleep and chocolate milk. You just never thought they’d both be ruined in one weekend.

Word count: 3,862

Content/warnings: Swears, curdled milk, riding a horse, alcohol consumption, suspicion, dancing

Author’s Note: This takes place at the same time as chapters 5 and 6 of YCMBWH.

This is the first installment of The Rainmaker storyline in the Outta Nowhere AU. This is also a very different environment from where we will usually see this pairing, but that’s the fun in it.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Outta Nowhere AU | Series Masterlist | Next >

You were awoken from your deep sleep to someone pounding on your door. As you put on your robe and shuffled through the living room, you caught a glance at the clock on the stove. 10:43pm. Who in their right mind would be at your door this late? A better question: why were you on your way to answer it? You didn’t even answer calls from unknown numbers.

You opened the door and immediately squinted at the bright fluorescent light of the hallway as it hit you in the face. Standing there in a full suit was a man with tall, broad shoulders and kind blue eyes under a tuft of blonde hair you assumed had lost its styling from a long day. If you asked your best friend, her evaluation would be ‘totally your type.’ He was a gorgeous, pretty boy….yeah….pretty seemed like a fitting description. Good looks or not, though, he woke you up hardly two hours into your sleep schedule.

“What do you want?”

“Um, good evening. You’re…” he looked down at a sticky note in his hand. “…Decks, right? I’m here to talk to you about a matter concerning Honeybee-I mean-“

You cut him off, grabbing his arm to drag the handsome man into your apartment and out of the hallway so you wouldn’t get another noise complaint from the old lady next door. Although, it was probably already too late for that since he had been banging on your door for who knows how long. “Yeah, yeah, that’s me. I know what you’re talking about, come in.”

Steve gently closed the door behind him as you moved to turn on a lamp by the couch. You flopped down in an arm chair while he perched himself on the couch cushion closest to you. Even with your messy hair in the dim light, there was something intriguing about you to him.

You leaned back and squinted at him. “So what’s going on? Are you Bucket? I’ve been told about you.”

Steve straightened in his seat. Bucky was going to love that he was the topic of one of Bee’s conversations outside the farm.

He smiled and shook his head. “No, actually. I’m Steve. I work very closely with Bucky, though. I was sent here to take you over to the farm. There’s been an emergency and we need all the closest people there to help out.”

You looked at him skeptically. “Why didn’t anyone call first? Why were you sent here?”

“Well, from what I’ve heard, you probably wouldn’t have picked up if I called, and time is of the essence. I can explain more on the way there.” He shrugged.

You looked at him with confusion. “Listen, I love my friend and all, and I’m willing to be there for her, but I’ve got work tomorrow. What am I supposed to do about that?”

Steve waved his hand and closed his eyes in reassurance before speaking softly. “It’s already been taken care of. Just, if you could go ahead and pack a bag, grab only essentials because we need to get going.”

You groaned. At least you’d heard of Steve before, your bestie had described him as pretty decent, and you hated that she was right, in more ways than one. You grabbed a bag off the back of your door and tossed it at Steve. “Okay, fine. Pack some snacks, it’s a long way to go at this time of night.”

He simply nodded and walked to your pantry, packing up everything that could easily be eaten on the road, along with a few bottles of water.

You emerged from your room with a duffel on your shoulder to see him waiting for you on the couch, food bag in his lap.

When Steve saw you, he was captivated. You’d changed into an old college sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair in a messy bun, but your face looked like it was ready to take on the world, despite the premature rise from sleep.

He got up and followed you to the door, turning off the lamp on the way over. As you locked your apartment, you whispered over to him. “What did you bring here? Let me see your keys.”

Steve dug into his pocket, pulling out the keychain with a jingle. “Range Rover.”

You grabbed them out of his hands. “Perfect. I’m driving.”

It had been awhile since you’d been all the way out to the farm. You used to come and help out over the summers during college, mostly baling hay and feeding animals. It was fun, but it wasn’t your life. Your degree and passion had drawn you to the city and kept you there for all these years.

You explained that to Steve on the drive over, in between the times you made him feed you the snacks. You noted that you were proud you could still drive this route by heart, too. Steve told you a little bit about how he did business in the city and how he knew Bucky, along with a story about why Bucky was out here in the first place. You had already heard the story from your roommate, so it wasn’t a surprise, but you were confused as to why they hadn’t called some sort of law enforcement to help. Something didn’t quite add up, but if someone you trusted so much trusted these men, that was good enough for now.

As you were nearing the end of the drive, Steve continued in his attempts to make conversation. “So how did you get the nickname ‘Decks?’”

You laughed dryly. “It’s a-“ you cut yourself off. “Hold on, I need to make sure I make this turn. It’s kind of hard to see at this time of night.”

You heard the wheels hit gravel as you pulled into the driveway and in front of the house, the headlights briefly lighting up Curtis leading a couple horses and tying their reins to the posts of the front porch in the darkness of the moonlit night.

Your eyes adjusted as you moved to get out of the car and watched Curtis jog over to the passenger side of the vehicle where Steve had just stood up, sticking out his hand.

“Hey, I’m Curtis, you must be Steve. Buck hasn’t left her side yet, so I’m gonna take you on back.”

Steve shook his hand “Yeah, good to meet you.”

Curtis gave him a slight nod and patted his shoulder, then ran around the other side of the vehicle to greet you by the driver’s side door. He reached his arms around your shoulders to give you a big hug with a tight squeeze. “Good to see you, Decks.”

“Yeah, you too, Curtis. Steve told me what’s going on. We should probably get back there.”

You rubbed his back before Curtis freed you from the hug and nodded in response, then looked back at Steve.

“You know how to ride?”

Steve couldn’t help the scoff that came from his lips. “Not one bit.”

Curtis sighed and looked between the two of you. “Okay, no worries. You’re with Decks, then. I’ll help you up. We’ll talk over all the details on the way there.”

Curtis led you over to the porch and helped you up onto the bigger of the two horses, then helped to prop Steve up behind you before getting onto his own horse and leading you toward the mines.

As your hips swayed back and forth with the horse’s footsteps, you could feel Steve clinging onto you for dear life. “You can ease up your grip a little, ya know. We’re not even going that fast. And you’re like, five feet off the ground. I promise you won’t get hurt.”

You could feel Steve nod in acknowledgment, his head resting against your shoulder, but nothing changed. If anything, his hold tightened. You laughed through the vice of his arms that was squeezing your diaphragm and continued on to the caves in the distance.

“So Steve told me one of the caves collapsed, and I’m not surprised because I know how old these things are, but why were you guys even back there? How did it fall so suddenly?”

You looked over at Curtis and he met your eye. “I want so badly to say it’s Bucket’s fault, but I know it’s really not. Your dear bestie insisted we go for a walk to show him the mines, and when he kicked one of the supports, the whole thing came crashing down. Could’ve happened to anyone at any time, though.”

You nodded. “Well, I’m glad she’s okay at least, but being trapped in there must suck. Either way, we’re happy to help with whatever’s needed.” Steve hummed against your shoulder in agreement.

You stopped the horses at the mouth of the cave and yawned from the early hour, stretching as Curtis helped Steve, then you, down from the horse. A man with brown hair and broad shoulders sauntered over to the three of you, greeting Steve with a hug and you and Curtis with a handshake. He wore a hard look on his face, but you could see the lace of concern through his forehead and eyes. Ah, this was Bucket.

“I’d take you guys in, but it’s sort of unstable right now. I’ve got direct orders from Honeybee, though, as to what we’re all supposed to do.”

He went through the plan, but in your tiredness, you barely caught his words. “I’ll go back over it in the morning, but the general gist is that we need to keep everything running smoothly and draw as little suspicion as possible.”

You looked between the men. None of them had caught on to one important detail. “I’ve still got Steve’s keys, but Buck, you’ve gotta tell your guys to move their cars, then. I’ve never seen that many in the driveway. People will notice. Move them into the hay barn. It should be empty enough this time of year before the next round of bales gets made. Can probably fit most of them.”

You all looked at Curtis and he nodded in agreement. “Yep, just as she said.” Bucky snapped his fingers and a young kid in a suit came running over to him, ready to take the command. What an odd interaction. You shrugged it off, though. Your brain hardly had any power at this point. It was just enough to ride back to the house and move the Range Rover into the pool barn behind the garage before flopping down into one of the guest bedrooms.

You woke up with a jolt to one of the roosters crowing. You forgot how loud those little bastards were, but something about it was comforting. You got dressed and brushed your teeth before making sure your hair was out of your face. You could smell breakfast and followed Curtis down the stairs to see Bucky making plates already.

That was surprising. As far as you knew from your conversation last week, he was struggling to get out of bed, and now he was up early enough to gather eggs and cook for everyone? Weird.

The steps creaked behind you as Steve matched them with his own groan, flopping into a chair. He wore a set of farm clothes you believe he’d borrowed from Curtis and his hair was a floofy mess. It was kind of cute, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the casual wear in juxtaposition to his suit from the night before.

Bucky pulled out a sheet of paper and explained your tasks again. You were so excited to be put on animal feed duty. You loved petting the little goats and sheep, they were so adorable.

As Bucky explained Steve’s tasks to him, you watched an almost unreadable expression grow on his face. He looked almost scared, daunted, intimidated? Maybe it was just dread? Eh, he’d probably be fine.

You finished up your plate and set it in the dishwasher before getting on with your day.

At mid-morning, you rolled up to the farmers market to help run sales with Bucky. You caught the sight of Steve carrying in his last wagon load of produce crates. His biceps bulged as he placed them all in the right places, and you couldn’t help but drool a little. Not only did he look good while being put to work, but he didn’t complain while doing it. Sure, you knew Bucky was technically his boss, but something about his willingness to help out did you in. Made you feel warm.

You watched as Bucky gave him a final set of instructions, and Steve walked back into the field. Man, did his ass look good in those jeans.

Hours passed by running the market with Bucky. You could see that a few repeat customers were happy to see him, some even trying to go in for hugs and offer him free drinks. You could see the charm you’d been told about.

As things began to slow, you found yourself standing next to Bucky, the both of you watching an older customer leave with some produce and a small jar of honey.

“Mrs. Jensen is definitely a talker. I think she needs someone else around.” He leaned towards you to say it lowly.

You laughed in response. He demeanor now was the same as when he was dealing with her, but somehow she was still so happy with their interaction.

Bucky continued. “Maybe I’ll let Jake see his mom later if he’s good.”

That caught your attention. “Wait, Jake is here? Why? Like, the Jake that broke my best friend’s heart? I thought they haven’t talked since before college.”

You could see Bucky trying to avoid eye contact with you. He was hiding something. Why would Jake be here?

“He’s done a lot lately that has made business difficult for both me and Bee. Since we are business partners after all. My people reached out and he came to apologize. Also happens he’s able to run some pretty complex calculations on his computer. He was more than happy to help out down at the mine when he heard she was in danger.”

You looked at him skeptically. “Okay…”

After you and Bucky had finished cleaning up the farmers market, you headed back to the house to relax some. You slipped off your boots and laid down on the couch, pulling a blanket up to your chin.

You were shaken awake and opened your eyes to see a pair of blue ones before you. It was Steve. He smiled.

“Hey, Decks. It’s time for dinner. You want some?” You nodded, stretching to sit up, seeing Curtis and his cousin, your best friend, bringing food to the table. You scrambled to toss the blanket off of you and ran over. You’d never hugged her so tight.

“You’re not dead! I’m so happy to see you.” Was muffled into her hair.

She laughed and rubbed your back. “It’s good to see you, too, Decks. Now let’s get some food. I’m starving.”

You nodded your head, still not letting go, as she waddled you to your chair next to Steve. He looked at the two of you, noticing you felt for each other the same way he felt for Bucky. There was a deep trust and appreciation that could rarely be matched.

As you were eating, you hardly realized Bucky wasn’t at the table until it was brought up in conversation. After a long day, and frankly, a long week, you all went upstairs and straight to bed.

You woke up to the sunshine, somehow sleeping through the roosters, probably from sheer exhaustion, and changed into your college hoodie and sweats. You walked downstairs to search through the fridge and find something decent to eat. As you were making toast, Steve came down and pulled out the pitcher of milk along with chocolate syrup.

“Ooh! Can you make me one, too? It’s been forever since I’ve had chocolate milk.”

He leaned up into the cabinet above you, abs brushing your back to grab another glass. You shivered slightly at the touch. You weren’t around people much, let alone people who looked like that.

“Sure thing, Decks, as long as you promise to make me toast.”

Your eyes narrowed, looking at him for a second. “Deal.”

After eating, you sat on the couch with Steve, sipping your chocolate milk and making small talk. He stayed vague about his everyday business dealings, and you felt like you didn’t have much to add since a lot of your work was confidential, and you didn’t have much time to do things outside of it.

You watched Bucky run down the steps and peek his head in the office before closing the door behind him.

You were about to offer to play a card game to pass the time with Steve since Curtis was due to be done any minute and could join, but there was a knock on the door.

You opened it up to see a ridiculously large vase of hydrangeas and a delivery driver already retreating back up the driveway. Oh great, what sorry guy sent these? She’s gonna hate them.

You picked up the vase to bring it inside, not expecting the sour smell that came off of it. You held it at arm’s length, fast walking to the office before knocking on the door with your foot. You held the vase in one arm to quickly open the door, showing the flowerpot, your face blocked by the large bouquet.

“Ugh! Decks, get that out of here. Where the hell did those come from?”

You ran back towards the front door, where Steve was holding it open, to set them on the porch. “Just got delivered. Don’t worry, I’ve smelled worse. There’s a card here.”

It’s true, you had smelled worse at work before, but it still didn’t mean it was very tolerable after some time. Everyone else stood back, hands covering their airways as you plucked the small piece of paper from the petals and read it out loud.

“Peach, can’t wait to milk our deal together. -Cole”

Everyone exchanged glances, disgusted by the weirdly suggestive statement, as you pulled the hydrangeas out of the vase and tossed them into the yard. You peered into the vase and gave it a sniff. In the bottom was a white goop, which you assumed had once been a liquid before a chemical reaction took place.

“He put the flowers in milk…and,” you sniffed again, “lemon juice?”

You fought a gag while you carried the vase out into the yard and did your best to get all the chunks out of it, eventually opting to spray it out with the garden hose. It still was a nice vase.

In your attempts to clean it, though, you knew some of the spoiled milk had splattered back on you and you’d need to get it off as soon as possible. So much for enjoying chocolate milk with Steve, because you were going to remember that smell for months.

You turned off the hose and grabbed the vase, stomping back into the house and slipping off your shoes.

Now frustrated with the situation, even though the mess was partially your fault, you were done. Most of it was probably due to the fact you couldn’t finish sipping the delicious beverage Steve had made for you. You shoved the vase into Steve’s chest and he cradled it with an oof.

“Finish cleaning that. And dump out my glass. I won’t be able to drink milk again for months.” You grumbled, moving towards the steps.

“Where are you going?” You heard behind you.

“To take a shower.” Your head whipped back around.

You continued to stomp up the stairs before gesturing aggressively with your arms above your head. “WHY DO GUYS ALWAYS SEND YOU WEIRD SHIT LIKE THAT!?”

You could hear Steve as you reached the bathroom. “I think I’m gonna need a shower, too, after this.”

Steve and Curtis chatted while they waited for you. “So like, what’s the deal with the trucks?”

Curtis shrugged as he opened the back door for Steve to get in, seeing you coming from the house. “Good for hauling stuff. You’re not gonna see many people out here without trucks, so it’s a good thing your fancy SUV is hidden away.”

Steve nodded, thankful you were on your way to end his awkward conversation-making skills that were not working very well on Curtis. Well, either that, or Curtis wasn’t very talkative, however, he never saw that same issue when you were around.

After a nice long, hot shower to remove the scent, you were relaxed and ready to go. Steve could smell your perfume, causing him to smile to himself.

Curtis opened the passenger door for you to hop in, and the two of you talked in the front seat on the way over as Steve sat in the back, watching and listening.

After spending hours at the bar, you were standing near the edge of the dance floor, chatting with Bee.

“So what do you think of him?” She tilted her head to gesture toward the blonde, wearing a hat that looked entirely too good on him.

You thought for a second before answering. “He’s a charmer, alright, in a really weird, awkward way. Kinda reserved, but very helpful. I respect it.”

“Yeah, I thought so.” She nudged your shoulder with her own.

“Well hold your horses, there, Honeybee. Some of us need a little more time to see what’s going on under the surface. Not everyone seems to fold so fast like your tall, dark, and handsome Bucket. Steve’s got something to him I just can’t figure out.”

“You will. I’m sure of it. That’s why you’ve got your job and I’ve got mine. You’re meant to be a scientist. An investigator.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

The music began to blare up above your conversation. Well, that’s a familiar tune.

“Oh! You love this one! You remember the dance I showed you in college? I think you’ve got some new guests to teach!”

You looked over to the pool tables to be greeted by Steve’s gaze directed right back at you with a dopey grin. Must be the alcohol, you thought to yourself. Bee had already left your side to go get Bucky.

“Do you want to dance?” You mouthed to him across the bar. He shrugged and mouthed back “I don’t know how.”

You gestured your arm for him to come towards you “I’ll teach you. Come on.”

Steve set down his cue and made his way through the crowd, only able to see your hat through the sea of people. He crouched down to reach your ear so you could hear him in the loud bar. “Don’t make fun of me if it’s bad.”

You laughed and shook your head at him as you set him up to stand in front of you. “No promises,” you yelled back.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Thank you for reading! Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are soooo appreciated.

What do you guys think of Decks? I love imagining her take the vase out to the yard, so fed up with the shenanigans that always happen around Bee.

Series Taglist:

@evie-119

[bigtreefest]

The Rainmaker Masterlist

A Mob! Steve Rogers x Forensic Scientist! Reader Series

Part of the Outta Nowhere AU

Main Masterlist

Series Summary: You’re just trying to do your job, solving crimes and running tests. It doesn’t help, though, that a certain ‘business man’ keeps showing up, a little too curious about your work

1. Fix Your Shoelaces

2. Cooks in the Kitchen

3. Pick Up The Pace

4. Splash Zone

5. So That’s What It Means

6. Storm Warning

7. Help the Bear

8. Never Be Sorry

9. Shortcut

10. Waste of Lime

11. Luke Warm

12. Alone Together

13. How About Pizza?

14. Cold, Then Hot

15. Banana Pancakes

16. Your Man

17. I Know You Do

Drabbles & Extras

Getting Along (ask answered)

Decks vs Honeybee Character Distinctions

How the Outta Nowhere AU Chapters line up

Conflict Resolution (ask answered)

Woman In Black (Future Halloween)

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 9: Shortcut

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: There’s no shortcut to you love, but that won’t keep Steve from trying to earn it the hard way

Word count: 2,830

Content/warnings: lil but of yelling, angst, some softness, ummmmm some not so nice play between coworkers, rage throwing, swears, mentions of death and dead bodies

Author’s Note: once again, this isn’t exactly how I saw this going, but I’m so excited for you to read!

Your feedback is appreciated in all forms! Comments, reblogs, and asks are golden

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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You were already muttering to yourself as you walked up the steps to your apartment. This week had been grueling at work, but at least you were wrapping up a bunch of cases!

The paper work alone had kept you busy thus far, not to mention the new cases that were stacking up while you tried to finish and submit your analyses. Your closeness to the finish line on this particularly long case didn’t negate the fact that your days were still long, though. You were getting into the precinct well before sunrise and leaving far after sunset, hardly even eating in between.

As you pulled out your keys on the final flight of stairs, you were praying that you had another freezer meal left after weeks of depleting your food stores, when an unmistakable smell hit you. You sprinted up the last couple of steps to see a paper bag sitting on your doormat.

With a groan, you brought the package inside and tossed it unceremoniously on your kitchen table as you set down your bag and keys. When you peeked inside, you saw a note.

“Decks. I’m sorry. I know this is far from a proper apology, but I want to show you how much I care. I hope you’re doing well and will consider talking soon. -SR”

He got one thing right. It was far from a proper apology. And your tiredness and lack of emotional regulation was catching up to you. You weren’t really even mad at Steve nearly as much anymore as you truly thought about the situation he was in over the past couple weeks, but this was still too much for you right now.

Who was he to think he deserved forgiveness for this gift, and his constant messages checking up on you, and who knows what else kind of surveillance you were under?

Before your conscious brain could even catch on, you picked up one of the containers of pasta, shaking your head fervently. Even looking at this gesture was pushing you towards the tipping point.

It started as a whisper, losing control, rising in volume and upsettedness.

“No….no…no….no, NO!”

In a split second the container was out of your hand and launched across the living room of your apartment. You looked on in terror as red sauce was all over the window and the container laid separated on the floor, although surprisingly not cracked. Just as quickly as you’d thrown it, regret started to seep in. Regret at being so stupid, regret at wasting food. You sat on the couch, your eyes nested in the heels of your palms as you took a sharp breath, preparing yourself to deal with the mess you made. It wasn’t your best moment, but at least what you did next was in your control.

You got back up out of the plush cushions with a vengeance and stomped over to the window, picking up the container on the way. You carefully dropped to your knees and silently scraped the strewn noodles off the glass, back into the container, and picked up the meatball from the floor, gathering as much sauce as you could by scooping it with your hands. You were sniffling as you continued with your mission until as much as possible was back in the container. It felt like such a shame to waste this food, you couldn’t do that. Couldn’t bring yourself to throw it away, so you came up with a better solution.

Once it was all repackaged and tossed in the fridge, and the windows and floor were thoroughly wiped down and sanitized, you went to your room, showered, and crawled straight into bed without having eaten at all.

You wordlessly strutted into the office the next morning, sunglasses on to hide your eyes. That was probably for the best, they could’ve turned someone to stone if you weren’t careful. In your hand was the pasta container in a fresh paper bag from your stash, swinging with your gait. As you entered the labyrinth of desks and passed Walker’s, you dropped the bag without making eye contact, speaking shortly in passing.

“Happy birthday. Never say I don’t do anything for you. Didn’t get any for Scott.”

He looked up from his computer, head following your swift movements, before opening the bag and beaming. You’d never gifted him your food before. And with that, you waltzed straight into the lab, shutting and locking the door behind you.

Just as you were finally submitting a few more evidence files, you were interrupted by knocking at your door. You didn’t want to disrupt your flow by opening it, so you just turned up your music louder to cover the sound of the jiggling handle. Except the door busted open and there stood Scott. He took a step in the lab, still a good distance from you, a large lab table in his way, and closed the door behind him. With a huff, you turned down the music.

“Fuck, I regret giving you the spare key to here. What do you want?”

Scott shrugged with feigned nonchalance. “Simple. Pasta. How come Walker gets some? We hate him.”

You lightly scoffed, eyes still glued to your computer screen, double checking your entry was right. “Trust me. You don’t want that pasta.”

He cocked his head to the side, putting his hands on his hips. “Um, yeah, I do.”

“Um, no. No you don’t. You don’t deserve it anyway. I know you knew about Steve and you didn’t tell me.”

Scott rolled his eyes and threw his arms up. “You know that wasn’t my place. Plus, I kinda thought you knew. I’m surprised you didn’t, you’re smarter than all of us- but I swear that’s not a jab!”

He was doing his best to cover his ass now, holding his hands up in surrender, unsuccessfully placating you before he sighed.

“But I know you know I wouldn’t work with him if I didn’t think it was what’s best for the city. You and I have always seen eye to eye on that. However, you know what I can’t get on the same page as? You thinking Walker’s deserving of eating the food of the gods out there.” He pointed, gesturing to the scene going on through the slits of the blinds of your window.

You rolled your eyes with a groan. “Walker is more than deserving of my floor pasta. I literally scooped that up off the floor last night.”

Scott turned around and you both looked out the window now to see Walker wiping his face on the cuff of his sleeve, the container empty. Gross. Not classy at all.

“If he’s that bad of a detective that he couldn’t tell the food was tampered with, he deserves the floor pasta for sure.”

Scott laughed and shook his head as he conceded.

You nodded along with him. “Now is there anything else you need to talk to me about? Perhaps a case? For our jobs?”

“No, pasta was pretty much it.”

You walked to the door and opened it, gesturing for him to leave. “Okay, then get out, otherwise next time I make your coffee it’ll be with water from my mop bucket.”

Over the next few days, it was more of the same at work. You were exceptionally busy, but an idle mind would’ve driven you crazy, so it was better this way.

Earlier this morning, you had been called in to a crime scene and were currently working on shoe print matches, which was a nice change of pace from the usual numbers on your computer screen that were starting to make your head go dizzy.

It was kind of enjoyable, too, smearing the tread of the sneakers in mud to simulate the way the suspect ran on the scene. Albeit, a little messy, but again, a good switch-up from the same old and it was keeping you in a decent mood. That was until a knock came on your door.

You were suspecting it was Lang asking if you’d made any progress, and you’d kept the door unlocked now as you cooled down over the past few days.

“Come in.”

You didn’t look up from your work, not wanting to lose your place or focus, but your peripheral vision was just good enough to make out a tall form that was most definitely not Scott. The black, high-quality, tailored fabric stood out like nothing else you knew of.

“Steven, great to see you. Again. Dressed to the nines, huh? Because that was smart to do in a lab. Full of chemicals and blood and mud. Smooth move.”

Your voice dripped with sarcasm, eyes unmoving from behind your magnifier, looking at the mud smears on one of the shoes.

He was taken aback by your tone, even though he was expecting it.

Steve cleared his throat. “I-um… yeah. These are my work clothes. Kinda gotta wear them everyday. But trust me, they’ve been through worse than your lab.”

You slammed the shoe still in your hand down on the counter, finally looking up at him. “Quit saying that! No,” your voice lowered, “business man… should ‘go through worse.’”

You wished he was just trying to reference how filthy money is, but you knew he probably saw way more blood than you had in your entire career.

“I’m just so sick of this.”

He slung the garment bag he was carrying that you just just now noticed over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him. “Decks, I own other clothes, you’ve seen me in them, why is it such a big deal? I’ve got work to attend to. Would it make you feel better if I changed into sweatpants every time I came to see you?”

You struggled, almost at your wit’s end. “You coming in here in all the sweatpants in the world couldn’t fix this. But… well I don’t really know if I’m work or not for you. Just another enforcer of the law? You know what! Maybe that’s better. So what can I help you with Mr. Rogers? Need to come in and ID another dead body? Huh? Need to consult on business conglomerates? Here I am, a public servant, at your service, I guess.”

You threw your arms out to the side and offered him a bow. That escalated quickly, but it was honestly much kinder than what you expected to come out.

Steve tossed his head back and to the side, appalled at the image before him. “C’mon, Decks, you know that’s not why I’m here. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to lie to you for so long, but I just couldn’t let you know everything. It was for your own protection.”

You scoffed. “First off, you don’t get to call me Decks anymore. Congratulations. You’ve been demoted below Walker. From now on, don’t even use my name. You can call me hey you. And secondly, my own protection? Yeah, it definitely seemed like I was being protected when you made me compete in a game of pool face-to-face with the head of your rival mob! And I’m feeling soooo protected at the fact that one of my best friends was kidnapped. I guess that’s fine with you, though, right?! Because you never really liked him anyway.”

Steve took a step forward and sighed. “Woah woah, hey. I like Curtis. And more importantly, I was the one who ran point to get him back.”

You nodded, a bitter smile on your face. “And what if you hadn’t? Would you still be standing here like this? Would he be another obituary in the paper? Reduced to that? A case some small town CSI has to solve? Steve, I don’t want to be on that side of it all. Because yeah, I would’ve done anything to get Curtis back, but I don’t think I would’ve been able to live with myself in the aftermath. I investigate dead bodies, I don’t make them. But you seem pretty nonchalant about this all, so what about you, Steven? Ever make a dead body? It’s different when it’s someone close, huh?”

Steve ran a hand over his face as he let his head fall back to look at the ceiling before pulling his gaze back to you and placing a hand on his hip. “Are you asking me that as a genuinely curious friend or a person who works in a police precinct?”

Your voice had gotten so much smaller now. You knew it wasn’t all his fault, but you were still sort of hurting. Every time you tried to push it down, it somehow got dredged back up, and now, it was fully exposed with Steve here in front of you. “Which one do you think I value right now? Which one didn’t betray my trust? You or my job?”

Steve hung the garment bag over the stopper on the back of the door and held his hands in front of him as he took another step closer. His voice was calm, and inarguably earnest.

“Decks, put me in handcuffs. If that’s what makes you happy, if that’s what makes you feel safe, I’ll do it. But I don’t ever purposely put people in danger. I’m the one controlling things so they don’t get too out of hand. People are going to do drugs. People are going to illegally buy and sell arms, but this way, we’re at least regulating it and keeping power out of the hands who want anarchy. People like Lloyd. I’m in this industry so I can keep the people I care about safe. So I can keep you safe. And I just have to work outside the law so people inside the law like you can do your job the right way.”

You sniffled, ignoring the burning that was behind your eyes. “So what, you’re saying you made a sacrifice for me? I didn’t ask you to. Your altruism isn’t going to win me over.”

You took off your gloves and took a step around the lab bench, finally without anything in between the two of you. His body almost relaxed with your new proximity.

“I know. It’s not meant to. But just know that even if I didn’t tell you the whole truth for entirely too long, and you don’t believe the reasons I’m giving you, my care for you has been true this entire time.”

Your lips parted in a breath, unsure of what to say at the genuine care and affection he still held for you. But your mind was fighting your body, trying to deny it, so you forced yourself to break eye contact, looking down and to the side at the corner of the room.

“So, uh….why did you come here? What’s in the bag?”

Steve’s brow drew together, the corners of his lips fighting to turn upwards at the fact you weren’t fighting him right now, but that could change any minute.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m, here to return your clothes. You left them at my place.”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “You can burn them. That wasn’t a fun day. Wait-actually, that pantsuit was expensive. So you can burn it, and then you can pay me $500 in cash so you and I don’t have any traceable transactions. You’re used to that, right?”

Steve laughed dryly, brushing off the last part of your statement. “You know what? I don’t really have too much cash on me right now, but how about this?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open. You watched intently as he slid out the small piece of black plastic. Wait- was that plastic? He handed it over to you between his middle and forefingers. God, his hands were so pretty, but you weren’t thinking about them too much when the weight of this gesture hit you.

“Steve, you can’t just give out your black card, especially so freely.”

He urged it towards you again. “I’m not giving it out freely. I’m giving it to you. And although you’ve not always been happy with me, you’ve never given me reason to not trust you. And you should know, my offer still stands. You walk into any of my businesses, whatever you want is yours.”

Without another argument, you grabbed the card from his hands and slid it into your back pocket, even if you had no intention to use it.

“Okay, but this is just because I really liked that suit. And don’t think I won’t max this thing out. Scott’s niece wants a trampoline and that’s just the beginning.”

Steve gave you a wink. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

You nodded, looking down and playing with your fingers. “Now get out of here before I have Walker arrest you.”

Steve turned on his heel, grabbed the garment bag, and walked out before you even looked up.

Next >

Bonus A/N: is everything perfect? No. Will it be eventually? Idk, you tell me how much you’ve psychoanalyzed my writing at this point.

Also, I really wanted to include the fact that canonically, Steve’s been pretty accepting when he gets arrested. Sure, he breaks out after, but in the moment, he doesn’t fight it. He knows what he’s doing is against the grain and I appreciate that about him.

Taglist: @evie-119 @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @thedonswife13 @mercurial-chuckles @thezombieprostitute @stellar-solar-flare

[bigtreefest]

Outta Nowhere AU

Main Masterlist

How the chapters line up

Decks vs. Honeybee reader distinctions

You Catch More Bees With Honey

(Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader)

Handiwork

(Mechanic! Farmhand! Curtis x Bartender! Reader)

The Rainmaker

(Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader)

[bigtreefest]

Woman in Black

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Warnings: kissing, rings hehe, mostly fluff, some plot holes that will be filled eventually, Halloween?

Word Count: 387

A/N: Enjoy this little look FAR into the future for Steve and Decks. What does it meannnn? Muah hahahah. Happy Halloween!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

You pulled your jacket down in the mirror, brushing imaginary dirt off of it as you turned side to side. This costume wasn’t your idea, but the second you told Steve about it, he was practically sprinting to make it work.

The suit you wore was one of his. An older one, which took some convincing from you, but still the fabric was soft and of far too high of quality to be on your body right now, let alone tailored per his insistence. The black material fit you like a glove.

His smile was bright as he came up behind you in a different suit, one that you could only call Godzilla-like. The way the monster head sat atop his darkening locks was laughable. The kids effortlessly convinced him to dress up like that, but he was surprised you folded so easily for their little sparking eyes.

Steve snaked his hands around your waist, admiring you in the mirror before he placed a gentle kiss on your neck, then one on your cheek. You turned your head to look at him, that dopey little smile of his perfectly matching the lime green lizard costume that covered his body.

You leaned up for a peck, which turned into your giggling lips against his as he turned you to him by his grip on your waist and pulled you closer. He could never get enough ever since you said yes to him. Steve pulled away, his bright blue eyes, as loving as ever, roaming your face before he cleared his throat.

“Sweetheart, you forgot these.”

He held out a pair of dark sunglasses between the two of you and you plucked them out of his hand, sliding them on to complete the costume.

“How do I look? Like a secret alien-fighting government agent?”

Steve held out an open palm for you to place your left hand in as he slid the ring with a sparkling diamond on your finger. The ring you only wore around friends and family. He reached in your breast pocket, pulling out his own gold band and slipping it in your hand for you to do the same to him, looking him in the eyes and smiling the whole time.

“I think you look perfect. Now let’s get downstairs and pass out some candy.”

Bonus A/N: WHAT DOES IT MEAN? WHERE ARE THEY? WHO ARE THEY DRESSING UP WITH?? I WANT TO HEAR ALL YOUR THOUGHTS!!!

Taglist: @evie-119 @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @thedonswife13 @mercurial-chuckles @thezombieprostitute @stellar-solar-flare @otterlycanadian @kbear8863 @steviebbboi

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Chapter 4: Splash Zone

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: Ups and downs are just another part of your week. This time, it would seem all the ups have to do with Steve.

Word count: 3,969

Content/warnings: swears, mean coworker Det. John Walker, nice coworker Det. Scott Lang, a gift, boxing and punching, puddles, verbal altercations, hidden happiness and feelings, hidden occupations, unwanted attention, wanted attention (not from the same person)

Author’s Note: Enjoy this next installment of the awkward little bean and his journey of getting the cold scientist to warm up to him.

I love hearing your feedback! I’d appreciate it more than you know if you took the time to leave an ask, comment, or reblog in addition to your like. Thank you for reading!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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You came in to work on Tuesday afternoon to a gift basket waiting at your desk - the desk outside just outside the lab that you hardly used since you were so swamped with cases lately. You were set to work well past midnight tonight, and had only packed a lunch, so you were sure the little snacks you could see peeking through the clear packaging would prove helpful for the hours you planned on being glued to screens doing data analysis. You could definitely swing doing all your work out here instead of cooped up for once.

Not only was there a gift basket, but a decently large paper bag sitting on your desk that had seemingly already been ripped open. Great. Someone already contaminated the crime scene. As you peeked over the cellophane wrapping of the obscenely large basket, you were greeted by a certain detective, leaning back in your rolling chair, feet kicked up on the desk, to-go container and fork in hand.

“Hey, Decky! About time you came in. Your pasta was getting cold, so I thought I’d help you out with it. There’s so much here!”

Your brows furrowed as you observed detective Lang slurping down a bite of carbonara, the container already half gone.

“What the hell, Scott? What is going on?”

Scott shrugged and used his fork to swirl up another bite. “What? Not like you were gonna finish all of that pasta in one go. Figured I’d take some off your hands.”

“Wha-“ you stood there, flabbergasted, mouth opening and closing while you contemplated your next words. You grabbed the receipt on the paper bag to see the contents listed, with ‘SR’ written in red sharpie at the bottom. It looked like it was all your favorites from Steve’s restaurant, plus some new items.

Your confusion increased as you pushed Scott’s feet off your desk and scooted over to read the card on the gift basket.

“Sorry our night got a little interrupted. Buck appreciates the kindness, though. Feel free take it all out on me. I’ve got a knock-out time planned for us. -SR”

There was an address on the back and an additional note for you to meet him there after your Thursday shift. And to… wear athletic clothes? What?

An amused smile began to creep onto your lips before the realization came crashing down and you whipped around. “Hold on a second, what the fuck, Scott!? You’re eating my gift!! Not to mention something that a civilian dropped off at a police precinct. That could have been poisoned!”

Scott laughed as he set down his fork in the container. “Nah, I knew it at least wasn’t poisoned. One of Steve’s guys dropped it off.”

You grabbed the lid off your desk and placed it on Scott’s pasta container before ripping it from his hands. “Hey! I wasn’t done yet!”

He leaned forward to grab it back out of your hands before you whisked it away again. “Ah ah, no. Answer my questions first and then you can have my pasta back.”

Scott sighed exasperatedly, his shoulders slumping forward. “Okay, fine. What do you want to know? That’s really good carbonara and I want it back ASAP.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why it was sent to me. Now, tell me how you know one of Steve’s guys dropped it off… and what do you mean by ‘Steve’s guys?’”

Scott shrugged again. Some detective he was. “I don’t know. I was at my desk when I saw it all get delivered. You know how Steve is. He’s got those delivery boys that help him out. Sure, I consider him a pal but I don’t ask too many questions about that. I understand he’s a busy guy. You’re just lucky I commandeered the area before Walker caught a whiff. That’s literally all I know. Now it’s time for you to answer my question.”

You rolled your eyes and begrudgingly handed him back the container. “Okay fine. You’re lucky I like you way better than that street rat, Walker. You get one question. One.”

Scott smirked at you as he popped off the lid and threw it back over your desk calendar. “Now I know Steve and I are well acquainted, but what’s he doing sending you things? You do him a special favor or something?”

You sighed and crossed your arms and legs, leaning back and squinting at your closest work friend. “First of all, that was two questions. And second of all, no. You know I’m not in the habit of sharing confidential information. If you must know, Steve and I are…friends. And we hung out, like once…or twice, but there was kind of a wrench thrown in the second one. I think this is his way of making it up to me.”

His grin grew toothy. “Yeah, okay. ‘Friends.’” He put up his hand that wasn’t holding food in air quotes. “Whatever you say, bud. Steve and I have been friends for half a decade, but you don’t see me getting gift baskets and lunch deliveries.”

You shook your head as you spun his chair around and nudged it forward for him to get out. “Well, I wouldn’t complain if I were you, bud, because you’ve evidently benefitted from the gift nonetheless. Don’t you have crimes to solve?”

Scott hopped out of the chair with a startle at your aggressive push. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Enjoy your little present from your boy. I’ll be back later to talk to you about those tests you ran last last week I asked for. And for some snacks.” He winked before running off, ducking to scarf down the rest of his meal.

You sighed before plopping down into your seat and hiding behind the basket and your computer monitor, trying to keep your excitement under wraps. You untied the ribbon at the top of the present and pulled down the rustling covering to finally take a look at everything inside. The contents were…broad… to say the least.

On top were some scrunchies, the exact ones you loved to use to pull your hair back in the lab, actually. And under that were duplicates of all the snacks Steve had brought over to your place the previous weekend that you still had in abundance.

Your cabinets were going to be endlessly stocked at this rate. In there, too, you found an adorable teddy bear dressed up in a suit. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it was supposed to look like someone who was growing all too familiar. But next to it was also a stuffed hedgehog and otter wearing the same? He must’ve seen your one hedgehog flower pot on the mantle and assumed it was your favorite. Now the otter, that was an interesting choice, although not unfounded. Maybe he knew you were a card carrying member of the zoo and aquarium.

Speaking of flower pots, though, as you dug to the bottom to see an assortment of candles, your perusing of the varieties of scents was cut short by another delivery.

Two men came in holding flower pots and vases. From what you could make out, there was a small cactus and a fern, and a large arrangement that seemed to hold one of every single type and color of flower under the sun being carried by the first man. You peered over the contents of your desk to see Detective Lang nodding at you. Great, this was drawing attention.

The second delivery boy came with a huge vase full of red roses, to which Scott shrugged and shook his head, pointing and mouthing, “that one’s not one of Steve’s guys,” to you.

Before you could get up to even look at the cards to the flowers, a manifestation of the unwanted attention you had garnered was sauntering over to your desk in the form of Detective John Walker. Literally the worst guy here. The only reason he was a detective was because he was so focused on pleasing the dude bros of superior management, but God forbid he take advice from you or any female officer on the force.

Before you could stop him, he reached out and grabbed the card out of the roses. “Got a secret admirer, Decky?”

You rolled your eyes, tempted to slap his hand and keep him away from your stuff. “Don’t call me that. Only friends call me that.”

He laughed as he read the small piece of card stock he fiddled with between his fingers. “What about Lucas Bell? Seems like he’s a friend, and maybe more than that for sending you a bouquet like this.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. Lucas? You searched through the other arrangements to see if there was another card, which you found in the colorful, less aggressive bouquet. SR. Somehow the both of them had sent you flowers on the same day? What was Lucas doing sending you flowers? You literally never talked to him. You made sure of that as much as possible. It was so odd.

From what you could gather, Steve had sent you the gorgeous flowers, along with the potted plants, and a single wooden yellow rose you hadn’t noticed before. Sure, it was… a lot, but it was tasteful, and something about it made you warm. Poor thing really just sent one of everything possible, but it was the kindest gesture that had happened for you in a long time. If this was the apology you got for something as simple as an interruption from Bucky on something you weren’t even sure was a date, then there’s no telling what else Steve could possibly have up his sleeve. His ridiculous, designer sleeve.

In a strong juxtaposition, though, looking at the bouquet from Lucas almost made you sick to your stomach. Such a forward flower to send out of the blue to someone who you almost never talk to. You knew you couldn’t call and complain to your mom about this, either, because she’d say something about him being so sweet and famous. Like those were good markers in a partner: fake television demeanor qualities.

Walker set down the card again and began to rifle through the contents of your gift basket. “Man, looks like Lucas really wants you to go on a date with him. Sent you all these sweets and said so in the card. Mind if I steal some?”

This time you did smack John’s hand, giving him a scowl. “This isn’t all from Lucas. Only those stupid roses over there are. And no, you can’t have anything. This is my stuff. God, for being a detective you’re terrible at reading the room. Now leave.”

Walker raised his hands in compliance and walked away. “Damn, okay. Don’t think it’s fair Lang gets pasta and I get hit, but whatever. Enjoy your love letters.”

You rolled your eyes before going over to the other side of the desk and reading the card from the roses. As much as you hated it, Walker was right. Lucas was asking to meet up. Just for a nice walk along the river. Sure, that seemed like an enjoyable activity, but only with someone you knew well enough to hold conversation. And he was more of the type to talk at you than with you.

You took the vase of roses over to the break room, placing them on the center of the table and shoved the card in your desk drawer before sitting back down again at the space cleared of everything except for what Steve had sent. When you peered around, you were satisfied by the reduction in glares your way as you sniffed through the remaining candle scents and chose what pasta to eat while working through your shift. Only Detective Lang was witness to the dopey smile on your face.

By the time Thursday had come around, you had finished all of your pasta leftovers and burned through a candle and a half, thoroughly enjoying all Steve had left you, even though you could tell some of the items were him throwing darts at a wall and hoping one would hit just right. But the thing was, just about everything in that basket was a straight bullseye.

You parked your car and got out on the busy street, dressed in a pantsuit from having to stand witness in a trial earlier. You were in the middle of a city block with shop windows recessed into the ground, standing at the top of a staircase, preparing to head down with a bag containing your athletic clothes in hand. You tightened the hair held up with your new scrunchie and took a deep breath. It looked like an old gym. Not quite what you expected, so you pulled out your phone to double check you got the right place. In your state of minor distraction, you just barely clocked the sound of shouting and pounding footsteps coming from your side. But by the time you looked up to see a man sprinting towards you, it was too late. He shoved you out of his way, down into a puddle. You were barely able to sit up enough to see someone else chasing him, far behind and much slower. You squinted as the form changed from a jog to a walk and came into focus. Walker. He threw his arms up in exasperation when he saw it was you.

“Way to fucking go, Decks. You let my perp get away!”

You stood up out of the stagnant water, brushing yourself off ineffectively as it had already soaked into the material. Luckily, you were going to be changing soon anyway, but after that and everything else, today was not the day for Walker to get all high and mighty with you.

“Walker, that’s not my job. How was I supposed to know that was your perp? Or a perp at all?”

He rolled his eyes and threw his hands to his hips, looking at your bag that still was thrown to the side on the ground, not making an effort to pick it up. “Who else would be running in a city? Obviously someone guilty!”

You bent down to grab the dusty duffle and slung it over your shoulder, cocking your head to your side. Your voice was becoming sharper, meaner. “People run in the city all the time, but that’s besides the point. How am I supposed to ID any of your perps if you refuse to tell anyone about your cases or let them help you until it’s too late? The reason that guy got away is your fault because I wasn’t properly informed. Maybe if you weren’t so wrongfully prideful and said where you were going or who you were going after before you left, you could’ve had backup. From someone actually on shift.”

Walker groaned and straightened his arm out past your shoulder, gesturing towards the direction where the man ran. “I was assuming you would take on that responsibility and be able to see the man very evidently running away from me, but no, you were stupid. Just like how you were about Lucas Bell. Maybe if you were smart, you would’ve taken him up on that date. Yeah, I saw how you discarded those roses. But just like the way you shove off your work, you shoved him off.”

You scoffed. Your annoyance made it so you couldn’t hear a jingle of a bell from the door down the steps behind you open while John was yapping on and on. “What does that have to do with anything right now!? Walker, I don’t shove off work, and if I’m stupid, you’re a literal brick. I’ve told you time and time again, I’m working dozens of cases at a time to your one, so you can hop off my back. Plus, I’m not a detective, but by the fact that you are, I can’t believe you’d be so brainless.”

You watched as his boastfully broad shoulders began to slump into an almost cowering form, so you kept going. “And what’s up with your obsession with Lucas Bell? I see the way you throw yourself at him at every crime scene. Do you think he’s going to give you some sort of connection? You’re a cop. You should be the one with connections! Is it a crush? Go home. To. Your. Wife.”

You were heaving breaths after your rant as you felt a presence loom over your shoulder. You turned to see what it was, only to be met by a familiar chest, upon which sat a head of messy blond hair, connected by a pair of shoulders that were begging to be let out of the confines of their white t-shirt and a thick neck somewhere in the middle. Steve.

He looked down and gave you a smile before shooting an intimidating gaze at Walker. “I believe you heard her. Go. Home.”

John simply nodded and turned to jog away in the direction from where he came, not daring to look back.

Your eyes stayed on Steve, but you didn’t share his smile, still frustrated with the situation. “I was handling that.”

He simply nodded, grabbing your bag off your shoulder and putting his hand on the small of your back to guide your down the stairs. “I could tell. You were doing a great job. Bullies need stood up to. I really don’t like them.”

You laughed dryly, walking through the door he held open for you. “Yeah, he’s pretty much as awful as it gets.”

You walked in to see the old gym, occupied mostly by a bunch of older guys using punching bags on the other side of a boxing ring, but otherwise empty. No one even spared the two of you a confused or judging glance. Steve gently directed you to the back of the room, handing your bag back and gesturing to a locker room. “You can go ahead and change in here. No one will bother you. And then come find me in the ring.”

He left you with a wink and a pat on the back.

Throwing endless punches was just what you needed after that whole altercation with Walker, and Steve was more than happy to oblige. He stood opposite you in the ring, giving small directions and corrections you were taking exceptionally well. After the initial rage wore off, the two of you stopped for water.

Steve handed you your bottle as he took a sip of his own. He had been relatively quiet so far, so you decided to ask him a question that was on your mind. “So why here? Why’d you want to go boxing?”

That wasn’t a question he was expecting, and it wasn’t one he wanted to truthfully answer. Sure, the two of you had hung out before, but this isn’t the usual destination of a date, much less a third date. If he was being honest, it was because he wanted to make sure you knew self defense. With your proximity to him and Bucky, it wasn’t out of the question that you might need those skills if the time came. When the time came, when he could finally bring himself to tell you about his job outside of the businesses you knew.

Instead, he just shrugged one shoulder, sliding the sparring mitts back on his hands. “Thought it might be a good release of pent up energy. Lang told me you had to sit for a court case today, figured you’d want to blow off some steam. And now that I see what other stuff you’ve got to deal with on a daily basis, I’m wondering why I haven’t asked you to join me every day. You need it after working with a douche like Walker. Although, I’m not sure if my poor hands could handle much more.”

He feigned a pout as you let out a breathy laugh, putting your gloves back on, as well, agreeing with his assessment. As the two of you stepped back into the center of the ring and started another round, albeit slower, Steve piped up. “Okay, my turn. What’s the deal with Lucas Bell? I heard you two talking about him. Did you guys mean the news reporter?”

You sighed, doing your best to keep a rhythm to your punches and ducking under Steve’s arm. “Uh, yeah. That’s the one. Lucas and I grew up together, so he contacts me every now and again. Sent flowers to my work the other day. Asked to take me for a date on the riverwalk, but I turned it down.”

Steve shuffled lightly on his feet, keeping you on your toes. He did his best to imbue his tone with genuine curiosity and nothing else. “Why’d you say no?”

You stopped in your tracks, but kept your arms up. “Well, do you think I should’ve said yes?”

Steve felt something in his gut at that. Of course he didn’t want you to have said yes, but he had no jurisdiction over that. And he still wasn’t exactly sure what was going on between the two of you. Whether or not you considered it friendship or something more like he had wanted it to be. “Well, I’m not in charge of you.”

You nodded and went back to throwing soft punches. “That’s right. But you should know, he’s historically not my favorite. He’s nice and all, I guess, but I honestly can’t stand him. Never been able to since we were kids. Everyone always thought it was nice that he would bring me flowers and stuff but it was just obsessive and weird to me. I never bought into his charms like all our neighbors expected me to. Anyway, I enjoy someone else’s company a little more.”

Steve hung on to the last part of your statement. Were you talking about him? He hoped so. But after getting caught up in the thought of that, he didn’t realize he had stopped moving until you gave him a punch on the shoulder.

Instead of flinching or being upset, though, he just shared your playful smirk at the dreamy look on his face and replied with a quip. “C’mon, Decky. You can hit harder than that. Where’s all that energy? I thought the pasta I sent you would have helped to carboload for today.”

You laughed and mixed it with a deep breath before going back in, harder. “Oh trust me, I could do this all day. And thanks for that gift by the way, it was really nice of you.”

Your eyes caught his sparkling blue ones for a second, sharing sincerity. “Any time. Honestly. You can go into any of my restaurants whenever you want and get anything you desire. On me. Just say your name and they’ll know.”

You shook your head free of his earnest gaze. “Steve, that’s no way to run a business. You can’t just give handouts to everyone.”

“They’re not for everyone. Just for you. Let me do this. That way you never have to worry about cooking for yourself on those hard days when you get home late. You can enjoy a carefree night out, or the celebration of a solved case. Let me at least do that for you.”

You finally relented, dropping your head to your chest before finally beginning to punch Steve’s hands as hard as you were at the beginning of the session. You next word came through clenched teeth, partially from his persistence and the smile you were trying to bite back at just how giving he was willing to be for you. “Fine.”

Steve smiled brightly at your new found energy and the acceptance of his offer. “Atta girl.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: we all know a Walker, but we all deserve to know a Steeb

Series Taglist: @evie-119

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 3: Pick Up the Pace

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: You and Steve have been running into each other for weeks, just, now you’re starting to plan it.

Word count: 4,948

Content/warnings: Law enforcement and forensics themes, swears, eating dinner, clothes sharing, my low knowledge of suit brands, mentions of misogyny and misogynistic themes, snacking, being dressed down in a room full of fancy clothes, sneaking into someone’s trunk?, the lightest mob themes, DA (yes, he got promoted) Barber

Author’s Note: I hope you guys are chomping at the bit to see Steve x Decks as much as I am. Actually, I know you are, the polls support it and I love it.

I really liked this chapter, it just flowed. You can see that Decks is really back and forth on what’s going on… This takes place at roughly the same time as chapter 9 of YCMBWH in the Outta Nowhere AU

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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To call you overworked would be an understatement. You were exhausted from the long week, your early Saturday shift hitting you like a train. The great thing was, you didn’t have to work tomorrow and were only on-call Monday, in case something especially heinous happened and they couldn’t handle it. Might as well be a golden weekend! But you couldn’t celebrate too soon, you still had half the day in front of you.

You had come into the lab even earlier than your schedule demanded today to get a few more results compiled for an important case that was set to go on trial soon. It seemed like almost everything was on the rise lately, causing you to have to take on more cases at once, and the same thing went for the DA’s office. That’s what brought you here, transporting important files a few blocks down, far outside your usual basement-to-crime scene-and-back domain.

Usually, detective Lang would take the evidence up to the DA’s office for whatever case was going on, but he wasn’t in today and this was top-priority. You knew how to do it, just never had to, so you were slightly tentative on where exactly you were going. But, either way, there was no way in hell you were going let Detective Walker even think about touching your files. You didn’t trust that rat of a man, which is how you found yourself walking up the steps to the DA’s office on your own.

It was a nice change of pace, at least. The air was slightly less stale above ground, although way more humid. The sun even peeked at you from beyond the dense cloud coverage. As you made your way through the DA’s office, you weren’t quite sure how they could all stand the amount of searing natural light that must pour through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Sure, your office could stand to have a little more non-fluorescent light, but this was too much. Plus, it probably cost a fortune, this new office having been built just a few years ago as one of the few actions of the office that you didn’t quite agree with.

One thing you did agree with, though, or at least hoped you did, was Andy Barber. He was seemingly a nice guy, but you had never met him. You voted for him for DA, so you were hoping he wasn’t that bad, but all you had to go off of was his case prosecution method and whatever the local paper had to say. According to them, at least you knew he’d be in his office over his lunch break, lining up with yours. DA Barber was notorious for working hard. It was something you and many citizens respected him for, although you were sure his wife and son thought differently.

You walked through the hallway towards his office, transporting the file that was clenched tightly in your hand, hoping you’d be received well. Distracted by checking the room numbers instead of peeking inside the offices, you removed a set of stiff knuckles from the Manila folder in preparation to rap on the door when the image on the other side sharpened into focus. You froze with your fist in the air as your jaw slightly dropped and your eyes shifted back and forth a the sight before you.

Two sets of blue eyes, attached to bodies dressed in suits, stared back at you through the glass, the one in the large desk chair holding mild confusion, yet intrigue, the other holding….maybe amusement and….was that…fondness? But definitively it was slight trepidation.

The man at the desk, DA Barber from the looks of it, gestured for you to come in. You did your best to will your body to move from your rigid position, swallowing thickly and lowering your arm to the door handle. Your feet felt nailed to the ground, weighed down by cement in the shuffling steps you took to get into the office. Your eyes kept wanting to shift to the man who sat opposite of the desk, the one you’ve seen around a lot lately, at work and in your mind, as his own gaze was glued to you.

Remembering where your were, you made a beeline for the DA, sticking out your hand. “DA Barber, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir. I come bearing that evidence you asked for.” You introduced yourself as he shook your hand, nodding and smiling in acknowledgement.

He gestured for you to sit down in the other leather chair positioned in front of his desk before waving a hand toward the man who had been silent thus far, despite the way his clear blue eyes had practically been screaming at you since before you entered the room.

“Please, Andy is fine. I hear a lot about you, especially from this guy right here. You know Steve Rogers, right?”

You nodded, looking over at Steve, just to catch the way his gaze averted yours just for a second, before locking in again in the formal, respectful manner he always tried to hold.

“Yes, Steve and I have met. And you can call me Decks, if it’s all the same. I hope I’m not interrupting anything, I can come back later if you want to discuss the file once your lunch date is over.”

Andy laughed and nodded to Steve once again. “I see what you were saying.” He looked back to you, slight creases in the corners of his eyes from his smile as he raised his eyebrows at you. “You’re funny. But no need, Steve is involved somewhat with this case and can stay for the discussion.”

You simply gave a curt nod, all business, opening up the folder and turning the documents toward him before going through your results.

You had spent way longer in Andy’s office than you had anticipated, half talking through the case and half just getting along with the gentlemen in front of you. Honestly, it was nice to finally have a conversation with people who understood your line of work, not only the mechanics of it, but where that work led, even if you still weren’t exactly sure what Steve did or what this all had to do with him.

Before you knew it, it was time to head back to the lab so you could grab your stuff to go home. As you started running down the steps and out the front door to try and beat the rain that threatened to fall soon, you heard tapping steps behind you.

“Hey, Decks, wait up.” You stopped and looked over your shoulder to see Steve gliding down the staircase, long legs making the strides look effortless.

He caught up and you continued walking back to your lab as he joined you, easily matching your brisk pace. As you were about to open your mouth to ask him why he was walking with you, your stomach growled over the sounds of even cars passing on the street and interrupted your train of thought. You simply looked at him, the two of you sharing an owlish gaze before busting out into a small bout of laughter.

“So you’re speeding off to dinner, then, I assume?” You shrugged, swerving around a parking meter before looking back at him.

“I wish. I’ve gotta hit the lab to get my stuff and then head home, but I’m way too tired to make anything, so we’re looking at either takeout or leftovers…”

Steve contemplated for a second as the two of you reached the precinct, and opened the door for you. “So, that’s what, with Saturday night traffic and cleaning up your space, an an hour? Maybe two before you actually get food in you?”

You descended the steps towards the basement, pulling out your keys to unlock the lab space and letting Steve in in front of you. “Yeah, I guess so, and I can already feel the hangry coming on, but I mean, at least there’s no one around who’s going to have to deal with it. It’s just me.”

Steve stopped in the middle of the room and turned around to face you. “No, Decks. I do. I have to deal with it, especially now that we’re friends.”

You looked at him with a raised brow. “Steve, we hardly know each other.”

He shrugged. “Then get to know me. How about I propose you a solution? What if I told you I could cut that time in half? From right now to you having an actual meal. I’ll help you clean up the lab here and then you and I can go to one of my restaurants. I’ve got a couple that aren’t far at all. On me, and I’ll guarantee food will be in your mouth within ten minutes of sitting down.”

You grabbed a pair of gloves, tossing the box to Steve for him to put on his own. “While I appreciate the offer, and I will put you to work in here, I can’t ask that of you, Steve. Plus, look at me, I’m a mess right now. And I’m sure all your restaurants are fancy. Could I even wear this to one of them?” You gestured up and down to your body, clad in jeans, one of the few perks that came with working Saturdays instead of a weekday, a casual shirt, windbreaker overtop and hair slightly ragged from a mix of the wind and a long day.

“I think you look fine, but, Decks, please, let me do this for you. You deserve to eat a good meal after how hard you’ve been working. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll change out of this suit so we match. Sound good?”

You sighed, starting to clear the clutter all around and signaling for Steve to do the same. He wasn’t going to move, though. Not until you gave him an answer. His eyes were boring into your soul despite how soft they looked, the hopeful smile on his face adding a sparkle you couldn’t resist. You looked at him and cocked your head to the side in exasperation, the back of one gloved hand perching on a popped hip, the other pointing towards Steve’s nose. “Ugh, fine. But none of that fancy bullshit. I want actual food, like you said. I don’t have the brain power for high-brow culinary transformation right now. Understood?”

Steve beamed at you, elated with your confirmatory response and ever amused, happy to comply by your demands. “Understood. So how do you feel about pasta?”

Steve pulled your car up to the entrance of his restaurant and tossed the keys at one of the young valet attendants, the other opening your door. You stepped out and looked at the elegant, yet humble storefront, surprised that you had never been here before. Sure, you worked close and you loved pasta, but you never even dared to try getting a reservation and were often too tired to even think of going anywhere but home for dinner, especially here.

Out of the corner of your eye, you witnessed Steve’s Range Rover pull up to where your car was moments ago, an arm reaching out and handing him a duffel bag. Steve slung it over his shoulder and nodded at you, opening the door for you to go inside.

“Mr. Rogers and Ms. Decks. Right this way, please.” The hostess immediately greeted the two of you, leading you back to a booth in the corner of the room, able to see the entire space. On your way there, though, you could see the nice clothes everyone was in. Yours were nothing akin to theirs, but no one spared even you a glance, which was oddly comforting, but a little unsettling.

Steve whispered down to you that he was going to change and you nodded, picking up and perusing the leather-bound menu in front of you. You hadn’t even finished reading, let alone made a decision, before Steve was already sauntering back to the table, now wearing a pair of jeans, white t-shirt, and navy blue bomber jacket. Oh man, did that make his eyes pop. His outfit was quite similar to yours, but just fit him perfectly in every way.

He gave you a shy smile as he slid into the booth, nodding towards the menu. “Find anything good yet?”

Your eyes went wide as you blew out a breath. “Steve, it all looks good. I can’t even decide what I want.”

“Well, what’s your favorite?” You snorted at that.

“My favorite? I’m not quite sure…. I mean, I cook spaghetti for myself the most, but that’s because it’s easy, not necessarily because it’s my favorite. What do you recommend?”

Steve clicked his tongue before responding to you. “I think I know just the thing.” He hardly raised two fingers off the table before a waiter was at his side, listening to Steve’s instructions on a ‘tour of the menu.’

“And any wine pairings this evening?” Steve looked to you in deference of the question, before you simply shook your head.

“No, thank you. Just water for tonight should be alright.” The waiter curtly nodded and walked away.

Steve was right, you timed it on your watch. He guaranteed ten minutes for food to be in your mouth, it hardly took eight. Steve watched tentatively as the plates were set before the two of you on the table, letting you portion out what you wanted first. The second the first bite hit your lips, you swore it was heavenly. Your store boxed spaghetti and jarred sauce held nothing to this rigatoni alla vodka, or the simple scents you had gotten off anything else so far.

As soon as you swallowed, you looked across the table at a very knowing glance. “Holy fuck, Steve. This is delicious.”

He nodded, finally serving himself and sipping his water before digging in. “The greatest, right?”

You hummed, taking in the amazing food, paired with the atmosphere. The rain beat against the window, adding to the coziness of the restaurant and the comfort and satisfaction provided by the food in front of you. Damn, this was good pasta. If Steve was going to insist on being around you so often, you were going to make sure he brought this along with him every time. Now that you tried it, you were never going back.

The two of you opted for silence as you continued to eat, at least for the first few bites. When you thought about it, Steve probably hadn’t had anything for as long as you, although he was taking it much better.

As the meal went on, though, the two of you fell into an easy conversation. It almost infuriated you how well the two of you got along. It was like talking to an old friend, except one that never got too explicit about their job description. Steve knew all about yours, and you knew all about his life growing up with Bucky plus a few interests, but that’s pretty much where it stopped. It wouldn’t have been a concern if he worked an everyday 9-5 job, but he didn’t. Something just didn’t quite add up, but that honestly wasn’t your concern. If he wanted to own a bunch of businesses, at least they made quality goods like this linguini. You were still astounded by how much he was able to control the room, though.

“So, like…what’s the deal?” You interjected just as he was about to take another bite.

“I’m sorry?” Steve was caught off guard, even though he could see the flashes of gears turning in your mind sporadically throughout this whole dinner ordeal.

“Sorry, I actually didn’t mean to make that as harsh as it came out, but like…you can’t tell me there hasn’t been a pattern of behavior with you all day today. I just wanted to point it out.”

Steve set down his silverware to put his full focus on you. Everything he had told you up until this point had been honest, and he wondered if he was about to be persecuted. The conversation had been fine, and the two of you were having a good time, but he couldn’t blame you for being a little bugged by his vague answers and workarounds.

“I just feel like everywhere you go, you command people around. If it were anyone else, I feel like they’d be all cocky about it, making false promises, but so many people are out here lending you their attention like you run things. Sometimes even in my workplace.”

“Decks, I, uh…. I don’t know how I’m supposed to take that.” His eyes slightly narrowed at you, unsure of where this was going next.

“I guess, it’s, uh…. It’s a compliment? But really more of an observation. And I’m saying I feel like I’m the only one who sees it. Feeling like a regular old Lizzie Curry.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “Um, am I supposed to know that name? Is it someone you went to school with? Is it one of your coworkers?”

You let out a chuckle. “God, no. You’ve never seen that movie? It’s an old western. You know what, come over and we’ll watch it, plus you can listen to the song it inspired, too. Steven, you uncultured dog”

He laughed and rubbed his neck. “Okay, okay, I get it. But you don’t mean like… right now, do you?”

You pushed your plate of food away from you, more than satisfied with the best meal you’ve had in months. “I mean, I guess? If you wanted to. I’m not working tomorrow. I’m not even on call, so sure, I could technically stay up. It’d be worth it to see someone else’s reaction to old film.”

Steve sheepishly smiled before sinking a little into the seat, signaling the waiter to come back and package the leftovers, sure to send you home with extra bread, too. “I would love to, but I actually have an important business meeting.” He checked his watch. “That I’m about six minutes away from being late for already. Tomorrow?”

You nodded, pulling your jacket on and accepting a bag from the waiter. “Yeah, tomorrow works.”

Steve slid out of the booth, sending a message on his phone before sliding it into his back pocket to put as much attention towards you as he could. “Okay, perfect, I’ll come by at seven.”

You vigorously shook your head. “No, way too late. Make it five.”

He looked at you incredulously. “Five!? Okay, fine. Let me make some phone calls. I’ll see what I can do. I can probably rearrange some things.” He sighed and pulled out his phone again, holding it up to his ear and sending you a wink and a wave before getting into the Black SUV that sped to the curb, meeting him as soon as he touched the sidewalk.

You spent the day Sunday cleaning your entire apartment. Sure, it was your normal cleaning day when it could be, but something made you feel like it needed to be extra spotless. You were in a zen, music blasting, dancing around with your mop, which was luckily the last thing you had to do.

You at least didn’t have to worry about preparing snacks or anything for Steve’s visit, texting him the command to get them on his way over, since you were already doing him the ‘gracious service of hosting,’ as you had said. He got a kick out of that one and obliged you, even texting Bee to get your preferences and personally picking them up instead of sending out a lackey.

He was surprised by how short Bee’s texts to him were, though, considering they usually had chipper conversations. Maybe he would call her later, or at least tell Bucky to since they had both been in a good mood the last time they’d spoken.

Steve pulled into your parking garage and went to the trunk of his car to grab his duffel so he could change into comfy clothes once he got up to your place. As the lift gate opened, though, Steve was terrified for the first thing he saw to be a shoe, attached to a leg clothed in Ralph Lauren pants. Steve took inventory of what was going on in his trunk as Bucky, the man attached to said shoe and pants turned over and groaned. Luckily, it didn’t appear that he was injured, but his eyes were quite puffy and his hair was in a mess, and not how it was back at the farm.

Bucky was wearing one of his junk suits: one that he didn’t care what happened to it. One that was marked as comfy, that he could throw it away in a second.

This was less than an everyday suit. Usually, Bucky wouldn’t be caught in anything less than Armani, even known for wearing Brioni almost every day. He must’ve really been going through it, especially since his hair has never been seen professionally without at least half an ounce of gel in it.

This was bad, and it was the last thing Steve needed right now, as the time was crunching and he didn’t want to delay your snacks or this date….wait. Was this a date? Was last night a date? Whatever, he didn’t have the time to think it over, though, instead looking down at the mob boss sprawled in the trunk and trying to gather information as quickly as possible.

“Bucky, what the actual hell is going on right now. Why are you in my trunk? Were you crying?” Tears were something Steve had only seen from his best friend a handful of times over their lives side-by-side, so for them to be so suddenly present was a concern.

Bucky sniffled before putting his best attempt of an angry face on, although it looked more like a pout. “I miss her, Steve. It’s only been a week, but I just can’t stand to be away. She’s stuck in my head and we were never even anything official. I’ve been trying to drown myself in work, but all I’m really drowning in is…sadness.”

He swung his legs to finally sit up under the tailgate. Steve knew Bucky had thrown himself into work, the man had been back for six days and had hardly been seen outside his office while Steve was sent out for all the in-person necessities. Steve slapped his hands on the shoulders of his best friend before meeting his gaze, then eventually pulling him in for a hug. “Okay, I get it. But she’s not gone. She’s only a few hours away and you can call her whenever.”

Bucky shook his head and sniffled. “No, I can’t call her. It’ll just make it worse. I just need a friend right now. Can I hang out with you?”

Steve sighed and placed his hands on his hips, questioning the plausibility of the situation. He had been getting along with you so well this weekend that the last thing he wanted to do was ruin it. And it would be indecent of him to cancel when he was already here, bearing snacks.

You were perched on the couch in your nice, comfy clothes scrolling through the TV to find the movie you had told Steve about. It had been awhile since you had seen it, but from what you could remember, it was hilariously ridiculous and you’d be happy if you could just get one person to share in the spectacle with you.

Of course, you didn’t mind that it was Steve, either. You rather enjoyed his company. It wasn’t overbearing or obnoxious, at least when it was just the two off you, and when he wasn’t trying to flex his knowledge. This weekend so far with him had just been… easy, though. And most of all, he listened. It was so hard to find someone who was like that, especially in your line of work. You were one of the best forensic scientists in the area, but many wouldn’t give you the time of day, mostly the shitty cops you worked with besides Lang. With Steve, outside of what had happened the first time he came into your lab, you felt as though your expertise was respected.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a firm knock on the door, followed by murmuring on the other side. You opened the door to see Steve holding a bunch of grocery bags, along with his duffel. Behind him was another man in a suit, kicking his feet.

“Bucket? What are you doing here?”

Steve sighed for what felt like the hundredth time and walked through the door you were now holding open, towards your kitchen to set down the snacks. “He’s not doing super well right now. I hope you don’t mind that I brought him.”

Steve looked at you with anxious anticipation as he walked towards the bathroom door as Bucky spoke up.

“Yeah, Decks. I’m really sorry to just show up unannounced, but going back to work after a month in the middle of nowhere was a hard transition.” That among other things were racing through his mind, but honestly, you got it. Hell, even coming back after a single weekend was hard, so you couldn’t blame the guy. He looked about as bad as Bee sounded in your phone call with her the other day. You just nodded.

“You won’t even know I’m here.” He looked at you with pleading eyes, rivaling the most helpless puppy you could possibly dream up.

“Okay. That’s fine, just get changed and you get to arrange the snacks. Does Steve have a change of clothes for you? I’m instating this apartment as a business attire-free zone.”

You looked over to where Steve was still leaning against the door frame where he shook his head. “I mean, I’ve got extra pants for him, but do you have another shirt or sweatshirt I can borrow?”

Movie time found you and Steve on opposite ends of your small couch with Bucky in the middle, the three of you holding bowls stacked high with all of your favorites, and seemingly Bucky’s too.

Bucky wore Steve’s clothes while Steve wore one of your old, oversized college hoodies from the collection. He had picked it out when you took him back to your room to try to find something that would fit one of the buffest men you knew. During this time, Steve told you all about what was going on with Bucky, and you understood. Being away from a loved one is never easy, you missed Bee everyday, too.

To your surprise, and honestly a little annoyingly, the sweatshirt Steve grabbed fit him better than it fit you. You missed the smug grin he wore as he slipped it on, happy to be hugged by your scent.

You hardly got to enjoy the sight, though, as a brick wall of a man sat between the two of you, jaw constantly clenching with the way he had steeled his feelings and demeanor. Bucky would never let anyone but Steve see him cry, but you had no idea how much it meant that he had even let you have a glimpse at him feeling sad.

Watching a movie that was almost purely taking place on a farm probably wasn’t the best decision. That wasn’t technically your fault, though. You had already chosen it and Bucky’s surprise visit wasn’t going to make you change your plans more than you already had by him just being there.

About half way through, he paused it, getting up to make the three of you drinks from whatever was in your cabinets, giving you and Steve the opportunity to talk about what had happened so far.

“So how old is she supposed to be?” Steve pointed at the screen.

“My best assumption is late twenties, early thirties if they were trying so desperately to marry her off at this point and still expecting kids. But she looks a little older than that, right? She was like, fifty when this was filmed.” You popped another gummy bear in your mouth.

“Ah, makes sense. Yeah, I’ve been so thrown off this whole time. Old-time expectations and behaviors are…interesting? I guess I’m not surprised, but it’s also quite alarming to see it portrayed so casually on the screen.” You nodded in agreement.

“Oh definitely. But you have to agree it makes it a little funny. I don’t think I could make it through the whole thing if it wasn’t laughable.”

Steve gave you a tight-lipped smile before Bucky covered your view, handing the two of you drinks. Steve was grateful for the break in eye contact. He wasn’t sure how he could tell you that misogynistic behaviors like that were so prevalent in his and Bucky’s line of work, and they jarred him in real life just as much as on the screen. Neither of them wanted a life like that, though, even if they had been a little misguided by the models in their youth.

The three of you settled in again, you and Steve throwing your feet on Bucky’s lap after he had almost sat on top of them.

You finished your drink and the movie, falling asleep there on the couch soon after. You woke up hours later with a blanket over you, borrowed sweatshirt folded at your feet and house as pristine as could be, two men nowhere to be seen and your door locked.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Brownie points if you can tell me what movie they watched.

Series Taglist:

@evie-119

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 2: Cooks in the Kitchen

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: Everyone hates a backseat driver. And a surprise guest when you’re not at your best.

Word count: 3,234

Content/warnings: TW: dead body and all you would expect in forensic science, I tried to make this not graphic, mentions of bruising, mentions of torture and abuse, sassy and borderline mean reader, awkward Steve who overthinks, reluctant? flirting, allusions to and mentions of murder

Author’s Note: For my dearly beloved @krirebr please know that you’re loved and appreciated by us all. I hope this helps, just a little bit. (Extra angsty, hopefully to your tastes)😘

What I’m gonna say is Decks seems very on edge compared to how she was before. Her guard came up out of ‘nowhere?’ Hm, that’s weird… or is it?

Anyway, these are Loupe glasses, if you’re wondering. They let you see tiny things up close and at a better angle.

Comments, reblogs, asks, and any feedback is so welcome and appreciated. Thank you for reading!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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After your weekend at the farm, Steve drove you home to return to your normal life. As much as you loved being out in the country, city life was definitely more your speed. You immediately went back to work and were happy to keep your busy routine going. Sure, a weekend away from screens and solvents was a breath of fresh air, but this was where you thrived.

Despite the way there were new, more outlandish cases to deal with, the days were surprisingly routine. Come in, visit a crime scene, run some tests, go home, do it again. You lived for that sort of zen. The detachment of simply putting your head down and getting to work was what you were used to, and then once you were home, it was like a sanctuary. You could lounge, pick up another hobby out of the thousand you’d already started, and crawl into your fresh sheets.

It’s not like you were entirely a hermit, though. You got along with your coworkers and would commonly joke around with them, but first and foremost, you were a proper worker, doing your job. When something really needed done, you’d lock down in the lab, music blasting, and crank out results.

Steve was the same way. He tried to keep his days as routine as possible, despite the way work brought something new everyday. Rival gangs needed monitored and law people needed bribed. Shipments and production needed to be kept on a tight schedule and up to pace with increasing demand.

There wasn’t much time for it, but he’d found certain images and memories start to take hold in his mind. They were different from the grade school ones of Bucky, or his times learning the ropes of his trade, or the first suit he’d ever worn. They were new, they were…warm? Lacked that same rigidity? They were of you. Driving his car effortlessly, petting a baby goat as it bleated happily, teaching him to dance…small, little moments that he couldn’t let go of, but he didn’t have time to replay enough.

He did his best to stay proper in his business dealings. Steve was known for his gentlemanly demeanor, truly a golden boy of the underground, or…at least as much of one as an individual could be given the legality loopholes he was constantly trying to jump through.

On the outside, he was smooth as a beach. Fluid with the crashes of waves this industry threw at him. He’d gotten good at rolling with the punches without a single blond hair out of place. But inside? It was a hurricane. The wind raged and echoed in his ears, putting him on edge. It was sensory overload.

Everyday, he found his attention wanting to wander more and more to that simpler time, not romanticizing it for the lack of pressing responsibility, but for the fact he spent genuine moments with someone who was unlike those in his world. Unlike the men so obsessed with maintaining their place on top or squashing others to get there. They were all about the money, but you were working for the people, and for the betterment of the city. To solve cases and give peace to families. And Steve knew he was all too often on the other side of that, even if he prided himself on only taking out the worst of the worst. The ones who deserved it. They were the ones endangering women and children, who to him, were the distastefully vulnerable and undeserving of wrath, despite the fates they were met with from the awful men Steve rid the world of. He wasn’t breaking his set of morals and rules, he was just breaking the law sometimes. Steve was a good man, he just happened to make his living doing bad things.

He didn’t have time to reflect on that right now, though. Things had seriously picked up in recent weeks. Bucky was soon to return, but it didn’t help that Steve felt like Lloyd was unrelentingly on their asses. Leading the organization when it came to the normal stuff was fine, but the extra protections Bucky was making him run, along with the extensive research and monitoring was already taking its toll. Steve was used to a lack of sleep, he basically lived on adrenaline and black coffee, but another night where he was fielding calls and sending out directives without a wink was causing his emotional guard to fall.

It was early morning as Steve sat at his desk. He’d ordered Sam to head out hours ago, but as the sun was cresting over the horizon, not even that searing glow could keep Steve’s tired mind at bay. The levees against the flood were weakened beyond belief. The hurricane was about to make landfall.

Just then, the phone rang. It was one of his contacts down at the police station. That wasn’t new, but the specific news was and Steve wanted to be there in person to get every bit of information he could... and perhaps catch a glimpse at the one person who could scratch that new itch in his brain. Maybe, finally, at least he could catch a nap in the car, as Steve called Gio to drive him over.

Over the couple weeks you’ve been back, you couldn’t help the way your mind wandered constantly, either. Even your favorite playlist couldn’t keep you on track, so you opted for silence, the scenes replaying of your time on the farm doing plenty to help you block out your surroundings.

You were working on a particularly difficult case currently. There was no time for distractions. The overcast sky just added to the ambiance of the feeling that something unusual was looming over you. You pulled yourself out of your thoughts, along with the keys from the ignition, and took a deep breath, letting it out sharply to get yourself ready. When you’d gotten out of the SUV and to the crime scene, Detective Lang greeted you.

“So I’ve got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”

He guided you along the River walk and down the rocky shore where a victim laid, waves still lapping over her feet as photographers and cops gathered around the scene, surveying it for evidence. A small crowd had gathered along the pathway, held back by barricades and uniformed officers. At least you were here before the news crews.

“Bad news first, always. You know that.” You spoke with a purpose, slipping on your gloves after pushing up the sleeves of your department-issued windbreaker and cuffing your pants so they wouldn’t get wet.

“So far, looks like it was blunt force trauma with a side of torture. Very little evidence to go off of, especially considering there are no open wounds and the tools used for this kinda thing could be in any household.”

You crouched down by the body and immediately took note of the bruising. You hummed in acknowledgement and looked back up at the detective, his head framed by the cloudy, gray sky, the rising sun now hidden. Fitting for a tragedy like this. A woman your age subjected to that sort of an ending…

“And the good news?”

He sighed, looking up at the sky, hands on his hips, before he dropped his head back down towards you.

He winced. “Body’s fresh? Disposal doesn’t appear very well thought-out.”

You nodded and looked around for any piece of evidence that hadn’t washed away. He was right, it was gonna be difficult to pull many testable elements.

“Well, I’ll do the usual work-up, then, and let you know when you’re good to get everything over to the medical examiner.”

He curtly nodded and turned on his heel to speak with the witnesses before you began to pull out your kit, swabbing for anything of note.

After you finished collecting everything you could, you carefully slipped back through the background and away from the slew of reporters now blanketing the scene. Ugh, you hated those block heads. Especially Lucas Bell, the weird little ray of sunshine you went to school with growing up. For some reason, he thought the two of you were actually friends, despite never having even given him the signal you appreciated his presence. The worst part: you could tell he wasn’t hitting on you. He would genuinely seek you out at crime scenes, that gross happy smile on his face, calling you by the birth name almost no one used anymore in favor of your college nickname. Every time, it was, “hey, remember me, old pal? Great to see you! Any information you’re willing to share?” Who the hell was so chipper when their job was literally to report tragedies?

You bobbled your head as you mocked him to yourself and got back into your work SUV. Ugh, you hated that guy. And all the other reporters. You didn’t wanna be on camera. What if you wanted to work for the FBI one day? Huh? What then? Can’t have your face out there all willy nilly and then expect to be doing covert ops. Nope. You prepared to race back to the precinct, ready to drown yourself in an afternoon of attempting to suck evidence out of a cotton swab caked in river grime and essentially, air, if you could count that as evidence.

You drove back through the pouring rain. Another thing to be annoyed by. First, the longing for your simple weekend once again, then the intrusive thoughts about annoying little reporters, and now, the near-flooding on the roads. You could hear her in your head now, Bee saying “rain makes corn. It’s a good thing.” You rolled your eyes, to be honest, you liked the rainy atmosphere, but you know what rain also makes? Bad drivers. At this point, it was just best to get back to the lab, buckle down, and stay there, where no one could possibly bother you.

You were hours in to your intensive testing. Your spectrometry readings gave the smallest peaks, hard to say if the readings actually were something or just background noise. You were happy to put in the time, but something just felt…off. It was infuriating and not helping your mood, but you tried your best to keep it separated from work. It wasn’t perfect, but it was your best. Another small thing going wrong could push you over the edge, though.

You opted to just look at a small fabric sample, deciphering if there truly was some thread of note caught in the weave. You just needed to concentrate and you knew you could find something. You were purely focused and zoomed in, using your Loupe glasses, paired with several lamps overhead, with the highest hopes of even a shred of confirma-

“Decks? More like Specks.”

The sudden voice that echoed through the lab startled you, causing your head to shoot up and bump against one of the metal lamps.

“Ow!” At that same time, the forceps and piece of fabric flew out of your hands and onto the floor. It didn’t help that you knocked into your instrument tray on the way, sending all those onto the floor, as well.

Great, now you had to go to the stock room to find a new package of sterile ones. This was the last set left in the lab. You looked up from where you watched the evidence fall, rubbing your forehead with the back of your gloved hand, eyes narrow at the business man in a suit who was previously leaned against your doorway, now tentatively walking towards you to crouch on the ground.

“Steve, what the hell?” You trailed off for a second. “You and Bee really do have the same sense of humor. I thought she just told me that as a selling point.” It came out as an irritated growl. You rolled your eyes as you squatted down to start cleaning your mess.

Steve laughed. Selling point? Bee talked to you about him? And tried to make him appealing? He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a certain warmth in his stomach at that. He pushed it down as much as he could. Either way, he truly did get along well with her.

“Well you know what they say, birds of a feather and all.” He joined you near the floor after having grabbed a glove, picking up some stray instruments and placing them back in the metal holding tray.

You muttered lowly as you finally stood up and turned away from him, after grabbing the fabric off the floor gingerly and placing it in a plastic protective case. “More like wasps of a stinger.”

Steve disposed of his gloves and looked over the results on your computer. You quickly hit the keys to lock the screen, sure to cast him a nasty glare. The last thing you needed was to get accused of leaking evidence.

What was he doing here, anyway? With those broad shoulders and that skinny waist. What did he even need shoulders that big for? How did he even shop for clothes? You swear his waist was literally the same circumference as your thigh. They don’t carry stuff like that in department stores.

Steve looked at you with a confused glance as you removed your gloves and washed your hands. There was a hint of humor in his voice, but it was mostly filled with caution at your attitude.

“Um, I don’t really shop for clothes? I’ve got a tailor. He’s pretty good.”

After your hands were dry, you facepalmed harder than ever before. You couldn’t believe you said that out loud. Maybe you did need to interact with more people outside of work. You were too comfortable talking to yourself. You took a deep breath before turning around and looking at Steve again. His face now mostly held tentative kindness, and that was a nice change to the anger that was sitting in your belly all day today. You still couldn’t help what you spat back, though.

“You have a tailor? In this economy? Of course you do…rich prick.” The last part was grumbled under your breath, but Steve still caught it. Where was this hostility coming from? He thought the two of you had gotten along great before. What changed?

Steve’s hurt caused him to fire back, albeit much nicer than you had. “You’re calling me rich? Decks, I’ve seen your apartment, it’s nice. Especially for this city. Way nicer than my first place.”

First off, what was that supposed to mean? You were still suspicious about exactly what Steve and Bucky did for a living. You knew they made a lot of money. Steve wore designer suits, if he could help it, and you assumed Bucky did, as well, but what business did they have being this built?

You let go of that, though, wanting to just get back to work after the disturbance, but why had you been disturbed in the first place?

“Steven, what are you doing in my lab?”

He was taken aback. Woah, full names. He knew your full name, but didn’t dare to find out what would become of him if he used it. It didn’t seem like many did. He wanted to go about this the right way. He didn’t want abuse his delicate position as a friend of a friend when you were so close to the law…yet.

He stood upright and pressed his shoulders back. Right, he was here on business. He had to remember that. It wasn’t a personal call and he had to stay professional.

“I was actually meeting with Scott, er, Detective Lang. He called me about the new case that came in this morning.”

You nodded slowly. “You knew her?”

Why did that make you nervous? Of course Steve knew women, like, duh, but something burning rose in your chest in anticipation of his response. Why did you care? You didn’t even want him here. Right?

He shook his head lightly. “No…well, sort of? She was an employee of one of my businesses. A salon.”

One of his businesses, of course. A salon was…interesting… but you guessed not out of the question with how perfect his stupid perfect hair always was. Whatever, just because he was here for some questioning, doesn’t mean he had to pay you a visit.

“Okay…so why did you come in here?”

You looked up at him from the odds and ends you were shuffling around your work bench out of nervousness.

“I actually wanted to see you, maybe help out a little?”

You eyed him skeptically, ignoring the way your chest sent a tingle down towards your fingertips. “You know when someone offers to keep close to a case like that, it usually means they had something to do with it, right?”

Steve put his hands up in surrender. “I swear this wasn’t me. I just genuinely care for my employees. Did you check under the fingernails? Maybe there was some DNA there or something?”

Your gaze became even more burning towards him. “Yes, Steven. I checked under the nails. That’s like, the first thing you do in cases like this. But why would you know that, anyway? And how can you say you care so much about your employees if you didn’t even know the girl?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. He was usually much smoother than this. How did you intimidate him so much so suddenly. Oh no…Is that where the name ‘Decks’ came from? Were you gonna hit him? Deck him? Did you have a pension for beating guys up? If he made a wrong move, would you literally punch him? Give him a black eye? Sure, much worse had happened to him before, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to emotionally recover if the damage came from you.

Either way, Steve didn’t want to find out, so he continued quite cautiously and uncomfortable within your domain, lacking the confidence that came so easily to him in all his usual business dealings and the quasi-leadership role he found himself in.

“I um…I watch a lot of CSI shows?” He hoped that was believable, but he knew it came out like a squeak, almost. He may as well be a little kid losing fights in a back alley again. He cleared his throat in an attempt to get his voice back to normal. “I do care for my employees, though. And my reputation, and the ability to make sure nothing like this happens again to anyone involved with me.”

You sighed at that. You can understand the want to prevent future disasters, especially when it came to someone working so low at the bottom of the food chain for such a major company. As you slipped your Loupe glasses back on and readjusted your lamps, you gestured for Steve to take a seat in your computer chair while you moved to a stool by the lab bench.

“Okay, fine. I’ll let you hang around, but don’t tell me how to do my job.”

You couldn’t help the way the corner of your lip turned up, just out of Steve’s sight, as he strutted over and plopped down into the rolly chair, watching you with a smile and his fingers laced behind his head.

Next >

Bonus A/N: I’m very excited for what’s going to grow between Steve and Decks. She’s a lil independent thing and he’s just so “idk what to do bc I’m supposed to be in control but I’m doing everything on her terms” and I love it. Lmk what you think!!!

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@evie-119

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Chapter 8: Never Be Sorry

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: There’s a lot to apologize for, but some things happen for a reason

Word count: 6,323

Content/warnings: mob themes, gun mentions, swears, yelling, tough love, interrogation, punching, slapping, convincing-ish arguments?, fires, lots of time switching between the past and present, angst, sass

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this next chapter! It takes place at the same time as chapter 4 of Handiwork and Chapter 11 of YCMBWH.

Your feedback is appreciated in all forms! Comments, reblogs, and asks are golden💗

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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“Everything’s Fucked.” You spoke through gritted teeth, arms crossed, looking out the window. The open fields were whizzing by in the early morning light as Number Five drove you home in Bucky’s car, leaving him and Steve at the farm to clean up after the events of the previous night.

It was per your insistence that you stay until Curtis was found, despite having to get called in to the office for this Sunday afternoon. As much as you wished to stay back and ensure Curtis and Cherry were alright, you had a job to do. Sure, Steve and his goons could’ve called off for you like they did the last time, but you couldn’t risk the association with them, not anymore. Not when so much else in your life was at stake. And honestly, you weren’t sure how much more time you could stand to be around people. Your last straw was on the verge of snapping.

Late last night (aka early morning)

You sat in the hay loft of one of the small barns on the farm, feet swinging from the rafters as you watched the scene below. You observed the two men who crossed you, crossed Curtis as they sat in metal chairs, tied with fresh rope, one of them squirming, the other calmly watching the scene with a mischievous smirk on his face.

There was no way it was genuine, though. You knew they were going to lose. You had heard all about the the abilities of Bucky in the city from Five when you cornered him upon your return from the bar. You knew men were tearing down Lloyd’s organization as this entire scene was occurring, and you knew Bucky would get what he wanted. Apparently he had a reputation for that. How it flew under your nose for so many years, you weren’t sure, but it meant he was really good. Which might’ve also meant you weren’t as good as you thought, but that was a thought you tried to push from your mind, despite the way it kept creeping in.

Bucky was circling the two men, akin to a shark, crisp suit adorned, taking the place of the jeans and flannel shirt he borrowed for the bar. Steve was wearing the same, and your previous disdain for that formalwear was growing back and burning your throat. Sure, the farm clothes were comfortable, but you knew that would’ve made them too vulnerable, which wasn’t gonna fly in a mob interrogation like this. So suits it was. Gone was the simple pleasure associated with the old, worn clothing. This was all business.

The same went for you, except in your case, business meant comfort. The second you got back from the bar and entered the farmhouse, you shucked the dress off your body and weant straight for the laundry room, borrowing a pair of Bee’s jeans and an old flannel of Curtis’s that was sitting on top of the pile, the extra material tucked into your waistband as it bloused over your body. It was perfect for a crisp night like this, and you were sure he wouldn’t mind. Plus, who knew how dirty you were going to get at this point? You were literally in a barn.

This interrogation was going nowhere, though. Lloyd was fucking smug as ever and Cole was being a whiny bitch. And worse even, after rolling Lloyd’s name around in your head for an hour, it all made sense. Hansen. As in Lillian Hansen, criminal defense attorney that you abhorred, despite the fact you luckily never really had to deal with her. But you knew how much Scott couldn’t stand the lady, and you imagined Andy felt the same. Ugh, Andy, or should you go back to calling him DA Barber now, who was probably on Steve’s payroll. And probably Scott, too! Was there anyone left that you could trust to tell you the truth!? It looked like you were the only one who you could have faith in anymore. And maybe Cherry? But now, you were gonna use that rage and that self-reliance to get some results.

You swung down from the rafters and landed on strong legs in your boots on the dirt floor. Bucky had just gone over to greet Cherry who had walked into the barn. This was your open opportunity to get what you needed out of these pricks.

You stalked towards the men in the metal chairs, your face showing the vengeance these two were sure to face soon, if not by your hand, then by the mob’s. Your eyes narrowed and shoulders squared as you looked between the two men. You hated them more than you hated even Walker for what they had a part in. More than spoiled milk, more than being left out of the loop. More than Steve.

You were grateful for the way the corner of your eye caught Bucky’s arm barring Steve from approaching you. He had already messed up enough and taken choices from you. This wasn’t another thing you needed taken away. You would deal with it your own way as you stepped in front of Cole.

“I’ll give you one more shot. I’m sick of watching this dance. Where. Is. Curtis?”

A stuttering voice came out of Cole. “I-I don’t know.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he didn’t. What a dipshit. The kind who doesn’t know basic science or who to trust. But you guessed, at this point, you didn’t either. You raised your arm.

Smack. In a flash, his head was tossed to the side.

“Wrong answer.”

If Cole wasn’t going to give what you needed, maybe Lloyd could, or maybe he and his tight lips could be the vessel to get the Turner heir to squeal.

You took a step to your left, putting yourself directly in front of Lloyd.

“Where?”

Your voice was even and low. Calm, yet rage-lined. You were so sick of all this shit. You had no room to feel sad or worried anymore. All that was left was anger. At the situation, at yourself. It filled you, but it fueled you. Lloyd shook his head, paired with his shoulders that jumped up and down with laughter. Your fists tightened at the way you could tell he wasn’t taking you seriously.

“Oh, come on, Pumpkin. You’re a smartie. Bet you’re a sweet peach just like your friend, too, but I’m not giving up whe-“

Punch. Right to the jaw. It was almost in slow motion as Lloyd fell to the hay floor in a heap with a dull thump and a rustle. You had pinpointed the right spot and knocked him out cold. Your eyes quickly fixed on Cole again, seeing a new wave of fear had swept across his face.

“Is that motivation enough for you to help us now?”

He furiously nodded, but then looked back over his shoulder at Cherry. “I’ll talk to her.”

You could see the surprise on her face, but he was in no place to make demands. Just as you were about to speak up, Steve’s voice filled the barn.

“No way. You lost your right to negotiate when you let Lloyd cross that line. You talk to me or you don’t have a tongue to talk anymore. Got it?”

You watched Cole gulp in fear. That was on him for refusing to deal directly with you, and now he got Steve, who you didn’t even know the capabilities of, never having witnessed him in this environment before. All of the unknowns hitting you at once were too much. You had to get out of there, so you turned on your heel and swiftly exited the barn, fast walking away. Anywhere else.

You grumbled and shook your head as your boots brushed through the tall grass. “Fucking dumbass mobsters.”

Present

The mid-morning sun was high and bright in your eyes as you continued on the highway back home. You were exhausted, but things would get better once you got back to work. Right? They had to.

You turned in your seat, cracking your back and doing your best to stretch in the confined space. You took the opportunity to reach around, too, opening the glove compartment, shifting items around.

Peter was attempting to keep his eyes on the road, but his gaze kept flashing to you. “Everything alright, Miss Decks?”

You groaned in frustration, rifling through the drinks in the center console. Of course it was a cooler.

“Where does Bucky keep the sunglasses? He’s gotta have an extra pair somewhere. Rich bastard is rarely unprepared, I know it.”

Peter reached up near the rear view mirror and popped open a sunglasses holder where you saw a pair of dark frames.

“Ah, thank you, Five.”

You grabbed them and closed the holder, before sliding them on your face, crossing your arms, and scooting back down in the passenger seat. There was still a ways to go, and this was a little better so you didn’t go blind.

Just as you started nodding off for a nap, you felt a buzzing in your pocket. You let out a big sigh and pulled out your phone, rolling your eyes when you saw who it was: Bee. You groaned as you hit the button to answer the call, putting it on speaker in case there was something she had to say to Peter.

“What?”

There was a deep breath taken on the other side of the line. “Well good morning to you, too, Sunshine. How’s the drive going? You kind of left abruptly.”

You continued to stare out at the road, more cars having joined alongside you as the day continued.

“Yeah. Couldn’t waste anymore time. Had to get back for the shift they need me for this afternoon.”

You heard her hum, knowing exactly what her face was from that noise. Most definitely tight-lipped and skeptical.

“Yeah, okay. And this isn’t you running away from your problems, right?”

You were silent for a second. She didn’t need to call you out like that. You were fine. It was all…fine. Maybe if you could convince her of that, you could convince yourself, too.

“What problems? We got Curtis back. Bucky is gonna help you figure out everything to keep your farm and then some I bet. No issues here except me having to go to work.”

It was Bee’s turn to stay silent now. It’s not like she was ever an excessive talker, but both of you knew that if she wasn’t gracing you with a response, she could see right through you and was waiting for you to state the conclusion on your own. Her silence drove you crazy.

“Okay, fine! I’m going back to my job to drown myself in test analysis reports and probably straining my eyes at the microscope again. Is that what you wanna hear?”

She let out a dry laugh from the other end of the line.

“While I admire the hustle, partner, you know it’s not. I wanna hear you talk about exactly what’s going on with a certain blonde puppy that’s pouting in my living room right now. But…since I love you I can give you good news first.”

Good news didn’t sound like something that could exist right now. But before you could catch more of those thoughts, you were interrupted by the clearing of a throat next to you. Oh right, Five was driving this car.

“Ugh. Before you speak more, hold on. Because this is between me and you, and I don’t need someone reporting this information to his boss.”

You looked over at Peter and the way his brow furrowed.

“Five, can I count on you to keep whatever you hear in this conversation a secret?”

He simply gave a curt nod.

“Discretion is my entire job description, Miss Decks.”

You sighed. It was exactly what you wanted to hear, but was it just that?

“Yeah, but do you have to report everything I say to your superiors?”

Peter shrugged. “I have to follow their orders…so if they tell me to…yes.”

“But isn’t your primary order right now to protect me? So protect me by not saying anything to Steve. What’s he gonna do? Hold a gun to your head?”

Peter was silent.

“Oh my god, he’s not gonna put a gun to your head, is he!?”

Peter spared a quick glance at you. “Um, I’d hope not. Probably not? No, no, he knows I’d never cross him. Mr. Rogers doesn’t like to get rid of people for no good reason. So definitely not if he knew the order of my silence came from you.”

From the phone in your hand, you heard Bee hum. “Ooooo, Decky, your reputation among the ranks precedes you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’d tell you to shut up, but I’m actually trying to give you the opportunity to speak right now, and I have no desire to hear more about this hierarchy, so talk before I change my mind.”

Humor reached her voice at the way you were beginning to open up to her again. “Oh I love how you love me. You might regret giving that free rein, but I’ll get on with it. This weekend went to… excuse my language…shit, but I didn’t even get to show you your surprise.”

Your ears perked up. “Bee, you what? When on Earth did you have time for that?”

She made an unsure, drawn out sound. “Well…I didn’t. I’ve had my hands pretty full..it’s um, technically from Cole, but you’re gonna like it.”

You scoffed. “How am I going to like something regifted from that fucking weirdo.”

The annoyance she’d been holding back with your bitter mood was starting to show in her voice now. Something very rare. You couldn’t believe you were actually wearing her patience down. “Decks, can you just be nice for one second!? Don’t make me call you by your birth name, because I swear I will. I’ll use the middle one, too! God. It’s a cow. It’s that cow you always asked for. She’s yours and she needs a name. Please be nice to me. I’m trying so hard right now to help you. Try and shed some light on this terrible situation.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” You shrunk in on yourself in your seat and your voice was almost a squeak. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at everything and how it did truly go to shit, you couldn’t blame it on her. It really wasn’t her fault. And this subject change was kind of nice.

Your voice was still small. “So tell me more about this cow. Mini highland?”

Back was her bright tone. “Yep! That’s the one. Light brown and adorable. You wanna rif on it?”

You sighed. “Um…maybe not right now? But I really do appreciate it. Give that girl a nice spa day for me, will you?”

You couldn’t see it, but you were sure she was nodding on the other side of the phone.

“Yeah, yeah. I will.”

Earlier last night (right after returning from the bar)

Steve and Bucky had converted one of the barns on the property into a makeshift interrogation room while Cole and Lloyd were still out cold, Bucky having knocked them out as a result of the fight in the bar. He knew you had driven Cherry home, but had no idea where you were now as he walked around the barn entrance, kicking stray rocks and looking up at the clear sky, littered with stars. All he could think about was sharing that view with you.

Over his shoulder, he could hear the grass rustling from footsteps and suddenly next to him stood Bucky. Steve looked at his best friend with a halfhearted smile, the pain evidently seeping through. It wasn’t going to be an easy night by any means, but Bucky knew it was much harder for Steve than him. Steve sighed, comfortable enough to speak his mind. He had to get this out, voicing something would keep him from combusting.

“It’s so beautiful. All the times I’ve been out here, I haven’t gotten the chance to look up at the sky at night without all the light pollution. Decks would love this. I bet she knows all the constellations.”

Bucky let out a small chuckle at the obsessive thoughts of his friend. He had a point, though, and he felt it a little more as he heard Bee walk up behind him, slotting her fingers between his own and setting her head on his shoulder. Steve continued to stare upward with a small, wistful sigh as Bee spoke over the light chirp of the crickets.

“She does. She took an astronomy elective in college. The stars are no use enjoying alone. You should be staring up at them together, but she needs to come to that conclusion on her own now that she knows everything.”

Steve nodded, huffed, then wiped his tired eyes with the heels of his palms, finally dropping his head.

“Yeah, you’re right. But I’m going to keep trying. I have to.”

Bee clicked her tongue and looked over at Bucky, responding to Steve. “As you should. Sometimes the best things are the ones someone teaches you to work a little extra for.”

Present

“Now it’s your turn, Decks. What’s really got you twisted?” Bee’s bright voice was louder than you’d like on the phone speaker.

You grumbled your response under your breath.

“What? I couldn’t quite catch that?”

You sighed and took a sip of water from the bottle you pulled out of the cooler, preparing yourself to finally voice the feelings you’d had cooped up inside.

“God, Bee this is so fucking embarrassing. I was stupid and blind. That’s what I’m so mad about, Curtis aside. It was all right in front of me the entire time. I should’ve seen it coming. I mean, Bucky, Steve, Lillian, Lloyd. They were all right there! And I missed them! I’m a terrible civic servant. I should just rescind that application I sent to the FBI.”

You huffed after having said your peace, but were glad the phone wasn’t up by your ear when her voices busted through the speaker again.

“WAIT, you applied to the FBI!? Decks, why didn’t you tell me?!”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, didn’t feel right at the time when I was at your house. And I didn’t want it over call or text in case the NSA or someone else was listening, but what does it matter now? I’m a terrible investigator.”

You thought for a second before speaking up again. “I shouldn’t have tried to make all this for myself. Maybe my mom was right and I should’ve looked for a husband a long time ago. Settled down or something and stopped pushing to have more. The world’s been trying to tell me that’s all I’m good for, but obviously even that’s something I mess up.”

“Ugh, Decks. You’ve gotta stop with that malarkey your mom fed you. Sure, she’s great and she stayed home once she found a husband, but that doesn’t have to be you. You’ve told me several times you don’t want that to be you. If that’s what you want now, great, but I know you and I know it’s not. I think you should keep going for your goals. You’d be great in the FBI.”

You wanted to smile at the compliment, but you felt like a fool. “Would I, though? For the several reasons I just told you? Plus, even if I were to get in, they do background checks. And interviews of family and friends. How’s it gonna look if my best friend is involved with the mob? And so is that guy that I kissed, like twice, but wanted to do way more than kiss with? And oh yeah, his best friend, which also happens to be the aforementioned best friend’s boyfriend? Also mob. And let’s add another friend getting kidnapped by a dirty lawyer, once again, mob, to the list. Can’t hide that.”

Bee sighed in contemplation. “Well, uh, actually, you can. Technically on paper I’m a produce contractor for Bucky’s restaurants. That’s why they’ve got all the businesses, bestie.”

“But even if that does work for the interview process, my luck won’t roll on forever. So maybe cut ties are for the best. But also, do they really even matter? Like, not really at this point. Nothing matters. I’ll just stay in the city, do my little science experiments like a monkey for those fuckwads like Walker, and maybe get a cat. It’ll be grand.”

Bee almost growled. You were sure it was terrifying in person. “Can you just stop feeling sorry for yourself!? I didn’t want to have to pull out the tough love but you leave me no choice. Yeah, this whole thing is fucked up. You got lied to, and I’m sorry for that. But honestly, nothing was fake. I’ll tell you that for a fact. And I know you know it, too. You can join the FBI if you want. You can keep your digital footprint and paper trail clean, and you can find happiness on your own terms. I’m this close to saying I’m sick of this sour behavior, Decks. If anyone can find their way out of a tangled mess like the one you think you’re caught up in, it’s you. So like you always do, put your head down and stop complainin’!”

You didn’t want to dignify this all with a response, so she kept going, but something on the other end of the line was trying to get her attention. “Listen, I’ve gotta go. But you know where I stand. On all of this. On you, on Steve, on your job. You can call me whenever, just think about it and stop selling yourself short. I know you’ve got this whole hard, tough exterior going for you, and it’s great. I love it, because I know the softness underneath. But don’t let that all harden, too. I can see you want it to because yeah, this all hurts, but that’s not gonna help your pain. It’s just gonna trap it there.”

What the fuck was this wise sage advice? She was turning into her uncle slowly. You were sure of it. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she was wrong, though, but you didn’t want to hear it. So you simply put your hood up and pulled the strings tight. Her voice held a tone of disappointment, but also empathy at your continued silence; it was softer now.

“I love you, and I care for you, and I want you to know, I never would have let Steve get that close to you if I didn’t think it could bloom into something amazing. For both of you. It’s beyond just having someone else there. I know you’re mad, but maybe give him a chance. Okay? I’ve really gotta go now. Bye.”

The dial tone signaling the end of the call filled the car. You watched as Peter’s hands adjusted on the wheel and the city skyline came into view.

The thing was, after getting all of that out to Bee and listening to her, you realized you weren’t really mad, but it all just hurt. It was a pain that came from heartbreak. Someone you trusted let you down; multiple people. But you weren’t sorry about how you acted because of it. And to your surprise, you weren’t sorry about much that had happened at all, but for now, you needed to focus on you.

Late last night (after the interrogation)

Steve stayed light on his feet as he ducked and made his way through the tall grass of the farm field. After your…. convincing argument… as to why Cole should speak up, he spilled everything to Bucky and Steve. And it was everything. The extent of his deals with Lloyd, his original plans to overtake Bee’s farm, the true financial state of his own empire, and the fact that he and Lillian were seeing each other. Which was…frankly, more than Steve was willing to hear.

All of that information, though, led him to one of the newer locations of the Turner farms. One that specialized in cattle feed and storage, so no live animals on the property, just fallow and crop fields, and several barns and silos.

Steve rushed through the tall grass, flanked by Bucky and his men, giving silent hand signals as orders. They were to make as little of a scene as possible, which would’ve been successful if Lillian’s men hadn’t made a mess of everything. Shooting without silencers, screaming, making the entire scene evident to any onlookers. They were lucky they were in the middle of nowhere. Someone might just mistake it all as a farmer’s altercation with a coyote.

After having taken care of the two guards outside one of the barns while Bucky and his men handled the rest of the area, Steve was on alert as he slid the barn door open on the largest of the several buildings. The early morning light lit up the dim barn, illuminating Curtis’s face. Steve wanted to feel relief but he had to make sure Curtis was alright first. He surveyed the area as he approached.

Out in front of him, Curtis squinted and spoke with a raspy voice. “Steve?”

Steve gave him a small smile, surprised when Curtis’s face fell a little flat, not giving much emotion.

“Hey there, partner. I’m here for retrieval service.”

He walked around behind Curtis and crouched down, pulling the knife out of his breast pocket, flicking it open, and cutting the wrist restraints. Curtis immediately brought his hands to his front, rubbing the tender area.

“Did you get Lillian? She was outside. And all the guards? Is everyone else okay? How’s Cherry? Decks? Bee?”

Steve walked around to Curtis’s front, crouching once again to begin sawing at the ropes that held his ankles.

“The girls are good. Safe on the farm being guarded, but I think they can handle themselves. Your girl has taken this quite well all things considered.”

Steve broke through the ropes and looked up at Curtis’s face. There was a cut on his cheek that appeared to be bruising slowly.

“Lillian got you pretty good, huh? Don’t worry, we’ve got her now. And Lloyd and Cole. They’re getting delivered back to an old friend in the city as we speak. Probably won’t have to see their faces ever again. That’s a blessing.”

Steve thought back to Lillian meeting him and Bucky at the edge of the property when they first arrived, gun and singular henchman at the ready, easily overpowered by the two of them. Backup must have been lagging. They were easily set in the back of one of the SUVs in the brigade to be sent away. Good riddance, she was terrible and Curtis didn’t even know the half of it.

Curtis nodded in assent. “You could say that again.”

Steve looked Curtis once over, checking for any more injuries, satisfied to not see anything too bad. She must’ve been planning something terribly drawn out and he was lucky she never got there. “Can you walk?”

Curtis nodded and groaned as he threw his hands to his knees and pressed out of the uncomfortable metal chair.

“Yeah…you never really answered all of my questions, though, city boy, at least not fully….”

Steve internally winced, hoping that would squeak past, but it didn’t. He walked with Curtis up to the edge of the barn, peeking out to check if the coast was clear and speaking into an ear piece, indicating Curtis had been picked up and was ready for transport. He nodded with confirmation and his shoulders relaxed a little, although Steve grabbed the gun from the holster on his hip just in case, keeping it low as they shuffled out into the open field. One could never be too cautious of Lillian, but this didn’t seem like a plan that was thought out very well.

Steve and Curtis stepped out onto the land of one of the Turners farms. It was a newer one, a shame, yet somewhat satisfying by how much of it was on fire right now. The barn behind them was already up in flames, per the boss’s orders.

Steve led Curtis back to his black SUV parked on the gravel road, but looked at the farmer with confusion as Curtis took it upon himself to go towards the driver’s seat, despite the way Steve was very evidently guiding him towards the passenger side. Curtis held his hand out for the keys expectantly. Steve was nervous, he didn’t like the look on his face one bit. It was stern, demanding, and…protective? And it perfectly matched his vocal tone.

“Come on. While I drive home, you’re gonna walk me through your plan to get Decks back. If the next time I see her, she’s as mopey as she’s been this weekend, or worse yet, this hardens her, you’ll have hell to pay.”

Steve sighed as he settled into his seat. “Okay, okay. But I think I’m gonna need a lot of your input. Just be nice about it.”

Curtis raised a skeptical brow at Steve as he pulled out onto the country road. Steve wished he could crawl out of his skin. He might have just risked his life to save Curtis, but now he was on edge, faced with having to confront not only what he did wrong, but how he planned to fix it, and the fact that it may never be good with you again.

In Steve’s extended silence, Curtis decided to speak up, one hand on the wheel to slightly turn his body.

“You know, Steve, I’ve always been a little skeptical of you.”

Steve’s heart was beating fast. He wasn’t blind. Something about the two of them just never clicked.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t like you. I think you and I just don’t understand the way each other ticks. I don’t know why you do the things you do.”

Steve cleared his throat, turning towards Curtis to hear more.

“Way back when, Decks dated a friend of mine. It didn’t really go anywhere, but I knew I didn’t like it and I wasn’t sure why.”

Steve nodded in anticipation to where this was going.

“I came to realize it was because I was protective, because I know her. And I know she’s tough, but there’s a lot more vulnerability under that surface. And from that moment, I saw, too, that anyone who dated her without taking special consideration for that wasn’t my friend. Anyone who didn’t bare their own intentions and thoughts like I knew she was bound to do, wasn’t a friend.”

Steve shifted in discomfort. “So you don’t think I care? You don’t think I’m honest?”

Curtis blew out a breath. “I can tell you care, but I think you were a little too comfortable withholding the truth from someone who put their inner self on display for you.”

Steve nodded in understanding. He knew what he did was wrong, but he had no idea what the true gravity of it was.

“So, you got anything more to say about it, buddy? How are you going to apologize? How will you say you’re sorry and deserving of her?”

Steve wiped a hand down over his face.

“I-I don’t know. Maybe send her something? Some food, whatever she might want? Do you know what she might want? A car? A-“

Curtis stopped him right there. “I don’t think so. You can’t buy her forgiveness. How are you showing it to her? Plus, you can’t give her a car. The FBI will flag your connection to her real quick and I won’t let your feelings and lack of knowledge make a smudge on her background check when she just sent in that application.”

Steve sighed. He had no idea you applied to the FBI. Heck, he just learned only a week ago how you got your nickname. It seemed like he was so taken aback with your chemistry, and with hiding his identity, that the two of you skipped over each other as people.

“Okay, I-I didn’t know that. What do I do to show her, then, though?”

Curtis laughed dryly. “That’s for you to figure out. And sure, it could come in the form of gifts, but more so, it should come in the form of you. Do something that shows you’re willing to go by her pace, to learn the way she works and lives her life, not that you’re trying to fit her into yours, or worse yet, have her be an accessory to everything else you have going on. Decks is someone worth prioritizing.”

“Yeah, I know. Fuck. Well then it seems like I’ve got some work to do.”

“Big time. Now, my turn, because I wanna know the extent of hell you and I may have gone through together in another sense. Tell me what Lillian was like growing up.”

Steve smiled a little in the corner of his mouth. Maybe once he fixed it all with you, he and Curtis could get along after all. “Well, I’ll tell you what. I’m a saint compared to her.”

Curtis snickered. “I figured, golden boy.”

Earlier this morning, just before your departure

You shuffled around upstairs in the farmhouse, gathering the few items you came with in preparation to head back home. You knew the boys were out getting Curtis with cautious optimism they’d be back any minute. Bee and Cherry were downstairs, cleaning up the dishes from breakfast as you packed.

As you looked out the window, you saw an SUV turn off the dirt road and onto the driveway. You finished shoving everything else in your bag, slung it over your shoulder and went down the steps. When you got there, you saw Cherry walking out the front door as Bee was digging a broom and dustpan out of the closet.

You dropped your bag on the bench to scope the area, morning light glowing through the curtains. Your survey was cut short, though.

“Decks, be a dear and hold this dustpan for me, won’t you?”

You silently nodded, squatting down and looking at the shattered coffee mug. Bee didn’t seem on alert, though. She seemed relieved, and that’s when you heard Curtis’s voice on the other side of the door. You perked up before going to throw away the ceramic shards.

Just as you were dusting off your hands, the front door creaked open revealing Curtis a little battered and bruised, but walking just fine. As Bee put away the broom, you ran up to him and threw your arms around his neck. Your voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

“I never thought I’d have to say a statement like this twice in a couple months, but I’m so happy you’re alive.”

Curtis laughed and rubbed your back. “Sure am. And I agree. That’s enough mob business for now.”

You let out a watery laugh, pulling away and letting Bee in to see her cousin. The door remained open and your eyes went straight to your bag again. As you grabbed it and put it over your shoulder, you quickly shuffled out the door, past the two large and suited men, running towards the third one who had agreed to drive you home.

Steve had walked in the house, ready to talk to you, but was caught by surprise when you zipped past him. As Bucky joined the group in the living room, ready to debrief everyone, all Steve could focus on was you. He lurched forward on his feet, shoved by Curtis, and used the momentum to jog down to Bucky’s car where you had already gotten in the passenger seat.

Peter was still standing outside the driver’s side as you looked straight ahead, arms crossed and ready to leave now that Curtis was alright. You had no intention of speaking with Steve, even though he was knocking on your window with a concerned look on his face.

“Decks. Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”

You shook your head just barely enough for him to see.

“Please? I want to apologize. I’m sorry.”

You reached a hand out to lower the window just a crack, still not granting him eye contact.

“Sorry for what, Steven?”

He took a deep breath, leaning forward so his one hand sat on the roof of the car, the other bracing the side mirror.

“Sorry for lying. Betraying your trust. Keeping the truth from you.”

You nodded, your lips pursed in slight anger and consideration. You finally whipped your head to face him.

“Did you ever think that maybe I wanted the choice, Steve? To know the truth. Decide whether or not what I felt for you was real by knowing all of you? You took that away from me.”

He nodded, staring down at the rocks in front of his feet. “I know, I know. That’s…..that was bad decision-making on my part-“

“See, but you got to make a decision. I didn’t. There’s a difference there. All that time spent together was a lie and a borderline waste.”

Steve shook his head, the watery blue of his eyes finally rising to meet yours again. “I don’t think it was. All those times with me, they were the real me, and I know they were the real you, too. That’s something I’ll never be sorry for: our time together. But I am sorry for taking the choice of you knowing what I might be getting you into.”

“You should be.” You faced forward in your seat again and rolled your window up, hearing Steve’s demands to Peter through the glass.

Next >

Bonus A/N: ooooooh! What does it all mean!? Hehehe🫣 was Curtis too nice to Steve? Be honest. Was bee too nice to Decks? Should she have pushed her back towards Steve a little harder?

Taglist: @evie-119 @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @thedonswife13 @mercurial-chuckles @thezombieprostitute

[bigtreefest]

Masterlist

Fluff 💞| Smut 🔥| Angst 🧊| Allusions to/smut-adjacent ❤️‍🔥 | Semi-dark ♟️| Light Angst ❄️

Series

Bucky Barnes

You Catch More Bees With Honey (Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader) part of the Outta Nowhere AU

Steve Rogers

The Rainmaker (Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader) part of the Outta Nowhere AU

Kill for Me (Lloyd Hansen x Dark! Reader, Steve Rogers x Dark! Reader)

Good Things (lost love, bbf! Steve x reader) (coming soon)

Bodyguard Steve???

Stucky

Guardian Angel (Mafia! Stucky x Bodyguard! Reader) part of the Galvanized AU

Ari Levinson

Bigger Houses (Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader) a series based off Dan and Shay’s latest Album

Curtis Everett

Handiwork (Mechanic! Farmhand! Curtis x Bartender! Reader) part of the Outta Nowhere AU

Jimmy Dobyne

The Banes of the Ball (Jimmy Dobyne x Heiress! Reader)

Lloyd Hansen

Kill for Me (Lloyd Hansen x Dark! Reader, Steve Rogers x Dark! Reader)

Jake Jensen

Pressed Code (Mafia! Jake Jensen x Bodyguard! Reader) part of the Galvanized AU

One-Shots

Bucky Barnes

…just a quickie 🔥 Bucky can’t keep his hands off you an an event. It’ll be quick, he promises.

Steve Rogers

Sick of It ❄️💞 Steve looks good in everything and you’re sick of it

A Celebration Just For Us 💞 You want to celebrate Steve’s actual birthday

Jake Jensen

Touch My Butt💞❤️‍🔥 Dating Jake is great, he’s such a gentleman

Wait Until We Get Home 🔥 (CT 2024) You promised Jake anything he wanted if he could keep his hands to himself until you got home

Marshmallow Dream 💞🔥 A rainy day can still be a good one if the right person knows how to turn it around. Jake’s Rough Days That Should Be Me

Can’t Fight the Moonlight 🔥💞 Your werewolf boyfriend can’t fight how badly he wants you when he sees you in your Halloween costume

In Your Arms ❤️‍🔥💞 Jake tries to treat you to a spa day on your honeymoon part of the Say I Do AU

Curtis Everett

From Both Ends 💞❄️ When work and responsibilities spill over, Curtis helps you clean it up

Morning Mewl 💞(PhD Candidate! Curtis) Curtis is nervous for his PhD defense

I’m So, So Proud of You 💞🔥 Curtis is proud of you for getting that job

Drip…and Lick 💞❤️‍🔥Curtis treats you to a truck bed date…and forgets to cut the watermelon

Pour Clueless Babes 💞❄️❤️‍🔥 (SB 2024) you and the broody bartender can’t help your want to be around each other

Why Not Both? 💞🔥 Curtis wants to treat you in your special day

A Well-deserved Treat 🔥 After a long day, you know exactly what Curtis needs

Comfort Cuddles in Bed💞

Ransom Drysdale

Meet the Parents 💞❤️‍🔥 You prep Ransom to meet your family

A What in Church? 💞🔥 (CT 2024) (can be read as a continuation of Meet the Parents or stand-alone) Ransom agrees to come to church with you and your family

Details 💞❤️‍🔥Ransom can’t help the way he pays such close attention to every detail regarding you

Rainy days and cozy sweaters 💞

Lloyd Hansen

Saint or Sinner? 🔥♟️ Lloyd wants to know how much it takes for a Saint to break

Ari Levinson

Whatever You Need 💞❄️ You want nothing more than couch cuddles with Ari after a long day

Sweet Coworker Ari and the car troubles

Bartender!Ari Thots

Andy Barber

Feral-ish Homecoming💞🔥

Paul Diskant

Moving Drabble ❄️💞Paul’s job stresses you out. Late nights and LA danger are too much

Random and Extras

Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration

500 Follower Cornucopia Event

The Great British Baking Show With the Babes

Movie Reviews

Sebastian Stan

Chris Evans

Fic Rec Masterlist 2