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bigtreefest · 5 months ago

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Chapter 6: Storm Warning

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: You have the suspicions you tried to push down for so long, confirmed.

Word count: 4,446

Content/warnings: heavy drinking, kissing, flirting, nervousness, fighting, yelling, Sam Wilson, a switch flip, swears, ANGSTTT, betrayal?

Author’s Note: You guys know that vine where the surfer is making all those sounds talking about the crazy waves? That’s how I felt writing this. *wapahh*

Anyway, can’t wait for your feedback on this one. I’d love to hear what you’ve got to say. Feel free to drop and ask, or a comment, or a reblog!! Those are my life source.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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On Tuesday afternoon after work, you were excited to see Steve. And honestly, you hadn’t been this excited for anything in a long time. Giddy, almost, and it felt completely out of character. You were so used to your schedule and your normal obligations, that the things out of the ordinary seemed like such a burden, but this was anything but. You weren’t sure how everything felt like it changed so quickly.

You pulled up to a modern townhouse on the edge of the city in an unbelievably nice area. Sure, it was gorgeous, and evidently expensive, but its inconvenience led you to believe that this wasn’t Steve’s only place. He probably had a country home, and an apartment in the heart of town in addition to this. This place seemed too relaxed to be where someone who had such an insane schedule, from what you could draw, would live. And that’s the thing, it didn’t seem very lived-in from what you could see through the floor-to-ceiling windows that flanked the front door.

As you rang the bell, you almost expected a house cleaner, or a butler to come greet you, but instead, you saw Steve emerge from some distant hallway. He was in a leather jacket, with a deep blue collared shirt underneath, not dressed down, but not dressed up at all compared to what you’d usually seen him wear to work.

As he saw you though the glass, though, and smiled brightly, you weren’t able to return it, feeling something shift in the air behind you. You whipped around to see if anything was there, but you were just met with an empty street, filled only by cars on the quiet block. It was similar to how you’d been feeling for the past week or so, but every time you turned around, nothing was there, so you tried to brush it off.

By the time you went to face forward again, Steve was at the door, looking down to where you stood on the steps. You nervously smiled up at him as he gestured for you to come in.

He grabbed your bag from you, giving a side hug that squeezed your shoulders, along with a greeting of a kiss on the top of your head. “Welcome, sweetheart. I’d give you a tour, but there’s not really much on this level. All the good stuff is downstairs. I’ll show you where you can get changed if you want.

You nodded along, still in your pantsuit, the product of sitting in the courthouse for another case today. But it wasn’t all bad, because you got to briefly hang out with DA Barber. He let you walk around his office during breaks, looking through his knick knacks. You spoke to his admin, who for some reason had dozens of pens on hand, offering you as many as you wanted. Of course you took a bunch, picking out a particularly nice one for Steve and tucking it in your jacket pocket to give to him this evening.

You walked through the house with its tall ceilings, awe-struck at its simple beauty, despite how barren it seemed. That was only the front entry way, though, because Steve led you down a set of steps to a basement which he had finished and turned into what you assumed was his man cave. The walls were lined with art, interesting and intricate, yet surprisingly complementary to the dark tones that filled the space. In the middle, near a fully stocked bar, sat a pool table. It really was a nice little setup.

Steve stopped just before you got there, though, turning around and showing you where the bathroom was and leaving you to it.

It was a relief to be out of that blazer, and when you emerged from the restroom, you could see Steve had laid out a set of hangers for you so it didn’t get wrinkled. He was leaning up against the bar, ankles crossed across each other, sipping a glass of water.

“So can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? A cocktail? Dinner?”

You smiled and your eyes lit up. “Dinner?” He laughed and nodded, sauntering over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist as yours gravitated to his shoulders.

“Yeah, dinner. I’d say your favorite is already on the way, but I wanted to make sure you don’t get sick of it, so I figured I’d let you choose. Anything you want.”

He leaned in to press a quick peck to your lips that left you chasing for more, to which he happily obliged. You pulled away for breath, putting your forehead against his chest for a second to think. “Why don’t you surprise me. Something good. We’ll save the pasta for later this week. Maybe it can be road-trip food to take down to the farm. Bee will love it, too, I’m sure.”

He nodded, pulling out his phone to send in your surprise order, before walking back over to the bar and grabbing his beer, taking a sip and wordlessly offering you one, which you accepted. Before you took a sip, though, you remembered what you had brought him.

“Oh! By the way, I have something for you!” You went over to your bag, missing Steve’s surprised expression, but hearing a faint “oh?” followed by his footsteps in your direction.

You fished around, speaking over your shoulder intermittently. “It’s not much, but I figured since you sent me all those nice things the other week, that I should return the favor. Plus, I felt kinda bad for kicking you out of my apartment on Saturday.”

Steve set down his bottle, walking to your side when you finally found what you were looking for. “Ah! Here it is.”

When you stood, your face was almost right next to his, so you took half a step back, awkwardly shoving your hand between the two of you. “I got you a pen-But it’s uh… a really nice pen. One of those ones people use to sign official documents and stuff. I stole it from the DA’s office, so I guess it’s not an official gift, but I thought you would like it and I figured you do that kind of stuff a lot in day-to-day life, although I’m not really sure-“

You were cut off from your rambling by his hand over yours, accepting the present, and engulfing your digits in his. You took in a sharp gasp, looking between where the two of you met and his warm gaze.

“Thank you, Sweetheart. I really appreciate it. No matter where you got it.”

You tried to force yourself to swallow, your mouth growing dry at the contact. Even though you had kissed, something about this moment had seemed more intimate than before. You raised your other hand, bracing it against his chest because you were worried that if you didn’t, your jello arm would drop, pulling the rest of your body along with it. “And, um. A deck of cards. I got you a really nice deck of cards. Professional grade.”

You could feel the puff of air that came from his breathy laugh as his other hand came up to meet yours. “Thank you. This really wasn’t necessary, but I love it.” You simply nodded and pushed yourself away from him, trying to break the moment. Sure, you loved being that close, and you couldn’t have gotten a better response, but it was a lot to take in.

You turned around to get out of your own head and attempt to regain some logic since your mind had almost gone empty right there. “So…um..pool, right? You think you can beat me?”

You had pulled in on yourself, arms close to your chest, but pointing toward the table, as you finally brought your body to turn around again and face Steve. You were met with a view of his broad back, carefully setting your gifts on a shelf and reaching for the cues.

“You know, now that I know what your nickname means, I’m not sure. It’s my understanding that you’re far better than you let on and you were keeping it a secret.”

Somehow he had already put you at ease again. He walked past you, towards a brick pillar off to the side of the room to grab the rest of the equipment you needed to start. You rolled your eyes, shifting your feet so you continued to face him. “I wasn’t keeping anything a secret. I just don’t blab about that stuff. And to be fair, you never asked me.”

Steve shrugged as he handed you the cue. “I guess you’re right. And you wouldn’t be mad at me either, for not telling you something you didn’t ask specifically, right?”

That was weird. Was there something he wasn’t telling you? Your eyebrows went from relaxed, to drawn inward with suspicion. “Well, it depends on the thing, I guess…”

You tried to brush it off, and it helped that Steve did, too. Maybe he was just curious and had some sort of surprise planned. Or maybe it was something else, but the way he quickly moved onto the next subject helped you to do the same, as you started the first round.

Steve had let you break to start out, which led to your immediate win. He had a smile laced with several emotions all at once as he watched you move with grace, confidence, and ease around the table. By the time you were starting the second game, Steve breaking this time, you heard someone walking down the stairs. It would’ve concerned you that someone random was in his home if Steve wasn’t acting so casual about it.

“Ah, that must be Sam with dinner. Bar food for the bar mood. I hope you like fries.”

Just then, the figure emerged from the staircase, wearing a suit. Figures. He made a beeline for you, reaching out your hand and shaking it. “Hi, you must be Decks. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Sam. I was at the farm all those weeks ago, but I’m sorry we didn’t get to cross paths.”

You shook his hand happily before he asked to pull Steve aside for a moment. He seemed really nice, and who could complain about someone who appeared to be a friend, bearing food?

You took the opportunity to open the paper bag, setting everything out on the bar, fries packaged separately from a plethora of toppings to stay crispy. How thoughtful. You began your snacking before Steve came back.

He returned with a feigned offended look on his face. “So, what? I leave for a second and you’ve already started without me? How’s that fair?”

You laughed and looked at him, fry sticking out of your mouth like a cigarette, simply shrugging until he surprised you by jumping forward and chomping off the other end of the fry, cutting it short.

If you weren’t so focused on not losing what bit was left in your mouth, your jaw would’ve dropped in shock. Steve carried on like almost nothing had happened and picked up his cue again, speaking with his mouth half full. “So it’s my turn still, right?”

The games continued on like that, you and Steve going back and forth on who started, taking shots with fries hanging out of your mouths, and you still winning effortlessly. But as the night went on, though, Steve seemed to be getting more focused on the game. He paid more attention to the angle of your shots, and was almost rooting for you to be better than him with a weird seriousness to it. It wasn’t really fun anymore, or at least the excitement seemed like it was starting to fade for some odd reason. He didn’t try to make any more moves on you, instead letting you be in your zone, making you feel like this was hardly a date anymore. It got to the point where he, rejoined by Sam, was just watching, beer long abandoned to sober up and focus. You’d just about had enough of it. Something wasn’t being spoken out into the open air. After this evaluation, you decided to run an experiment. To see if your hunch was right. On what should’ve been an easy shot, you instead moved an inch to the side, and sunk the 8 ball into the pocket before you were supposed to do. The tension in the room got worse and you could audibly hear Steve wince with a soft “shit.”

You turned around at that. You were right. Something was off about this whole thing.

“Okay, what is going on? Ever since I got here, you’ve been going through waves of being so serious, but that was the last nail in the coffin. I thought it was just because we were both nervous for my first time being at your place, but this is much more than that. I’m sure of it. So tell me what it is. Why are you pushing so hard for me to win?”

Steve couldn’t take his eyes off the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. Sam straightened in a bar stool next to him, his eyes roaming everywhere, not wanting to linger on you and the fire raising in your expression. This isn’t how Steve wanted this to go, but you knew too well something was up. He still stayed silent.

“Steve, why do we have to go back to the farm this weekend and why do I have to practice? Why is Bee not returning my calls, either? What’s riding on this game? Why is it such a big deal? And what do you have to do with this? Why are you so personally invested?”

Steve still didn’t say anything, finally daring himself to look up and into your eyes through his lashes. His expression was troubled. He started to open his mouth, but nothing came out. Suddenly it was all dry from your rage. This was his worst fear, well, besides the unspeakable things Lloyd might have planned if you lost. You were getting impatient, though. Even when Steve wasn’t smooth, he would still talk to you. Talking was something you thought the two of you did pretty well, but apparently not right now.

“Steven. Words!”

Steve let out a sigh, signaling for Sam to give the two of you the room. There was no escaping this now. He’d pushed the limit on the timeframe he had to tell you the truth. “Listen, Sweetheart. You’re right. There’s… a lot… you should know, that I haven’t told you, so let me start at the beginning.”

You didn’t have time for him to try and sugarcoat this. You wanted the whole truth and you wanted it now. And so help you if there was something going on that you weren’t aware about, that was causing you issues you could’ve prevented, someone was getting the brunt of it.

You dropped your cue on the table, stomping over to the beer fridge and grabbing another bottle, hell, why not two, and storming towards a comfy leather chair, throwing yourself down and crossing your legs. “Go on, Stevie. Speak.”

Normally, he would’ve been elated to hear you call him that, but it was nowhere near the tender manner he was hoping you’d use the first time. It was bitter, and biting, and he hadn’t even said anything yet. This was not going to go well.

He sighed and started, eyes on you as if he was trying not to spook a wounded animal, but you were already worse than spooked, you were angry. And no physical wound could hurt more than the distrust you were feeling right now.

“I guess I’ll start with what you already know. You know Bucky and I work with and own a lot of businesses. And you know that Bee’s farm is one of the ones we’re working with, and Bee’s been facing a lot of pressure from Cole lately to sell the farm.”

You nodded along, chugging down your beer and slamming it on the coffee table next to you, ditching the second bottle in favor of something stronger. You walked back over to the bar, not sparing Steve a glance, as you pulled the rolling ladder over to grab the bottle of Macallan off the shelf. You didn’t care what year it was. You just knew it was expensive, and he owed you at least this much after lying.

You stepped back down, deciding to forego a glass, and walked to your seat again, finally looking into his eyes. “Okay, now tell me what I don’t know.”

He hated how hard your eyes had become. How they’d grown dull already where they used to have a sparkle when they reflected his face. “The businesses that Bucky and I run… not all of them are legal. A few of them run outside the law, and at first, it was just because that’s how we were brought up, but we realized that we could change things, so we did.”

You took a swig from the bottle. You did not like where this was going. Steve fidgeted with the pool cue still standing in his hands.

“We were raised in a certain way, to be cutthroat, and unrelenting, and aggressive. Ready to serve our superiors, because that’s what we had to do to survive. To provide for our struggling families. And we were good at it. We were good at following orders, and playing the system, so it put us in leadership at a pretty young age. It seemed like the right thing, especially once both our parents were gone. But as time went on, we saw how damaging what we did could be, and wanted to fix it. Except there were some people who didn’t feel the same way. Some people who were simply power and money hungry and didn’t care who they were hurting. In specific, this one guy named Lloyd.”

You kept nodding along, getting slightly dizzy from the straight alcohol hitting you, and not expecting the lore to go this deep. You thought it could’ve been something more minor. Maybe Steve was in the witness protection program or something, because that could’ve been better than this trip of an explanation.

“Lloyd was a friend of ours, along with his sister. And Bucky was especially close with her. But they both left to go off to college, and we were really proud of them, but when they came back, they were different. Aggressive, uncaring for quality of goods, money hungry. Lillian, Lloyd’s sister became a huge lawyer, used to do his dirty business bidding, and Lloyd tried to start from the ground up, stepping on the territory Bucky and I fixed and taking advantage of people already in terrible positions. We don’t do what he does. We regulate things so people like him don’t take over. And we collected a lot of allies and truly good businesses along the way to help out with keeping the other side under wraps.”

You rolled your eyes waving your hand signaling that he was going on and on and on. “Okay, so you’re a criminal. What does this have to do with my best friend’s farm? And why I’m here right now, evidently practicing pool like my life depends on it?”

He rubbed a hand down his face, looking past you, over your shoulder, and out the window at the far end of the room. “Our business with Bee isn’t on the legal side. It’s on the other one. And it wasn’t until a few weeks in or so that we saw Lloyd was connected with Cole. So we were getting harassed from both ends. From Lloyd on our end, and Cole on hers. I assume she hasn’t been telling you this, but Cole’s been on her ass since Bucky left, and Lloyd has been on ours for months. Bee made a bet to end it for once and for all. A single game of pool. Winner takes all. Friends and family only, no pros, and she wants you to play for her side. She hasn’t been picking up your calls because I told her not to. I wanted the chance to lay this all out on the table for you. So you’d hear it from me. I know you’re a woman of the law, and I work outside it a lot, so I understand if you’re upset about that.”

You clenched your jaw, and if you did it any harder, your teeth might’ve broken. Your breaths were heaving out of flared nostrils. You took another sip, trying to find the proper way to reply to all of this, but your brain was too fuzzed for that. And it’s not like you would’ve wanted to do the right thing even if you were thinking clearly. Yelling seemed like a good option right now.

“Are you fucking kidding me!? She bet the farm on this game!? And you’re what? A crime lord!? But that’s not even what I’m the most mad about. You lied to me Steve. I trusted you and I gave you my time and I let you in easily to see things no one else does, and you lied.”

You tried to stand up, but were becoming too dizzy to do so. You were humbled, only briefly, so you asked another, softer question. “So what really is even your job then? Who are you and Bucky exactly?”

Steve put his pool cue back. “Bucky’s the boss.”

“And you?”

“Second in command.”

“And what’s Sam?”

“Number three.”

You nodded, yelling to Sam who you could still see standing on the staircase, listening to the whole thing.

“Hey! Number three! Can you bring me more fries from over there?”

Sam looked between you and Steve and Steve nodded, a solemn look on his face, letting Sam run over to the bar, and bring you the rest of the basket of fries. Once you’d had your fill, and the carbs soaked up some of the alcohol, you stood up, staring Steve down.

“Okay, fine. Since everyone thought they were best to make decisions regarding my own life, and make stupid ones in theirs without consulting me, I’ll give. You want me to practice more pool? I’ll practice. Rack ‘em.”

Steve wanted to tell you this wasn’t necessary. That he’d made a mistake. That you’ve proven yourself enough and that he was sorry, but his mouth was paralyzed. He believed that the best thing right now was just to give into whatever you needed to stay sane.

You broke the balls with more force than necessary, already getting a striped ball in a pocket, then kept making shots, not missing a single one. You called the eight ball to the far corner pocket before sinking it easily, even drunk off your ass.

“There. Happy? I won’t screw this up. So you can see I’ll do my best to make sure our friend keeps her farm and you get your little business deals to stay protected. I’ll see you on Saturday, tell Gio I’ll be waiting for him outside my apartment, and then hopefully, after I do my job, you and I won’t need to see each other… never again.”

Steve stood with his eyes focusing on you, yet he was zoned out. He should’ve told you sooner. He should’ve seen this all coming from waiting too long. What was worse than you finding out? You getting hurt. And he did that. He hurt you. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to you because your guard was down because you didn’t know your true proximity to everything, but now that you did, he could see a thousand ways that it would’ve all gone smoother if he would’ve just been honest from the beginning.

You stormed across the basement, back towards where Sam was, and tossed him your keys. “You’re driving me home, Three.”

He followed you out the door, and you didn’t even care that you left your work clothes, and Steve, behind.

Sam drove you home like a chauffeur, after you insisted on getting on the back seat so you could lay down. Now was as good of a time as ever to try calling Bee again, and this time, she finally picked up.

“Hey, Decks. How did your date with Steve go? He told me you were coming over tonight.” Even in your state, you could sense the caution in her tone.

“It was fucking awful, but I think you know that. I can’t believe you lied to me, too. Some guy I just met is one thing, but my best friend is another. And on top of that, I can’t believe you were stupid enough to make this big of a bet and put it on my shoulders.”

She simply hummed. She could probably tell you were drunk, she was one of the few to have seen it this bad before. She sighed before giving her response. “You know me. And you know I wouldn’t have made this sort of a deal if it wasn’t necessary. If I wasn’t desperate. But I’m not worried.”

She was silent for a second, but you let her be. She was gathering the right thing to say, and anything you wanted to throw in that free space would’ve made things worse.

“Decks, no one I know is better than you. When it comes to you as a person and you playing pool. And plus, it’s not like he can bring a pro or even semi-pro to come beat you. You’ve got this in the bag, knock on wood, and I hoped you would understand. The bet and the business.”

You sighed. You wanted to be snarky and mean, but she was just so logical, and you knew how grounded she was with that heart of gold and shit. She was the one who always shared reason with you. But it still didn’t excuse how reckless this all felt.

“Bee, using this skill to swindle people out of a couple bucks hardly counts as being good enough to save your legacy. That farm is your life. I have no quantification of the probability of my win, but I’ll do my best, I guess. I’m getting really tired, now, so I’m gonna let you go, and you and I can talk about your poor taste in men and this little lying streak of yours later.”

And with that, you hung up the phone and the world went black.

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Bonus A/N: Another vine reference: Did you guys [read] that? I’m really scared.

Taglist: @evie-119 @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @thedonswife13

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