Bleed my aching heart
Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 3
Prompts: Backseat & Bruise
Words: 1,359
Rated: E
Tags: Mafia AU; Mob boss Dick Harrington; Hitman Eddie Munson; Car sex; Rough sex; Possessive sex; Humiliation; Dirty talk; Knifeplay; Mild painplay; Top Eddie; Bratty bottom Steve
Notes: "Kiss that ring" verse, Steve POV? You bet! Can't give me those prompts and expect me to not think of these two unhinged little fuckers. This continues right where "Heaven's in the backseat" leaves off.
When Steve was twelve, his father took him on a trip to Sicily. He said Steve was old enough to learn about the family business he was supposed to inherit. And so Steve spent a dreadfully boring two weeks being paraded around in expensive suits, locked away in stuffy meeting rooms, listening to negotiations he didn’t understand, while the sun sparkled on the sea outside.
On the second-to-last day, he used an unsupervised minute to sneak away. The water always held a weird fascination for him, even then. He wanted to feel it on his skin at least once while he was here.
On his way back, his feet slipped on the cliffs and he plummeted nine feet. They found him stumbling around by the shoreline hours later, disoriented and heavily concussed. His father took one look at him and slapped him hard across his bleeding face.
“What part of stay at the house didn't you understand? Do you have a death wish or are you honestly too dumb to listen?”
Steve thought about that question a lot over the past six years.
He's not ashamed to admit that he isn't smart - a lot less smart than Richard Harrington expected his son and heir to be. Still, he doesn't think it's the reason why he keeps going against his father's orders at every opportunity.
The pain felt good. He suspected even then that he must be a little fucked in the head, but that didn't change the fact that, nauseated and bleeding and dizzy, he felt more alive than he had in weeks.
Maybe that's why he is the way he is. Why he keeps chasing the risk, the danger, the pain.
Maybe that's why, when he noticed Eddie Munson lurking in the flower bushes by his father's pool, he didn't shy away but beckoned him closer. Maybe that's why the hungry look in those dark eyes makes him shiver in pleasure rather than fear. Why he can't stop provoking the man, why the thought of making that mask of indifference crack fills him with a perverse sense of anticipation.
Maybe that's why, when Eddie hits the brakes and pulls the car over to the side of the road, Steve is fully hard before he even finds himself pinned into the backseat. Why, when Eddie pulls out his knife and trails the tip of the blade over his skin and talks about claiming him, about stuffing him full of his cock, about cutting his initials into his flesh, he can't help the needy little whimper that falls from his lips.
“Do it then,” he breathes, hips bucking to chase the tantalizing weight of Eddie’s leg between his thighs, wrists straining in Eddie’s grip. “Make me yours.”
For a second, Eddie actually pauses, eyes going round with surprise. Then, his pupils blow fuzzy and large. His lips peel back, and Steve catches a glimpse of sharp canines glinting in the blue light of the dashboard. And then all he knows is that he's being kissed with a force that is unlike anything he's ever experienced before, a force that punches the breath right out of him and makes the needy little thing low in his abdomen thrum and quiver.
He struggles, clenching his jaw shut and trying to jerk out of Eddie’s hold, because what can he say? It's fun, playing hard to get, seeing just how much of a rise he can get out of him. Eddie growls against his lips and presses his thumb into the bruised flesh of his lip, just where his father hit him earlier. Steve gasps in pain and surprise, and Eddie uses the opportunity to lick right past his teeth and into the warmth of his mouth. His hand never lets go of the knife, and when Steve tries to twist out of the kiss, the blade tickles his cheek like a dangerous promise. He goes very still, Eddie’s teeth grazing his lip as he grins and deepens the kiss.
He doesn’t know how much time passes before Eddie allows them to part for air. His head is dizzy and all of his sensations have narrowed down to the tingly needlepoint feeling in his limbs, the delicious pain where Eddie’s fingers are still pressing down on the bruise.
“Make you mine?” Eddie repeats, and his voice is a husky whisper. His eyes look black in the dark car, like two bottomless pits, ready to swallow him whole. His lips gleam with their mingled spit. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for, little nymph. I don’t think you know what that means.”
“Show me then,” Steve hisses. It’s only when his nails dig into Eddie’s shoulders, drawing a sharp intake of breath from those sinfully plump lips, that he realizes Eddie no longer has his wrists pinned. Instead, his hand has traveled down, undoing both of their belts and flies with quick, deft fingers.
Steve’s cock springs free, hitting Eddie’s thigh with an obscene little slap. Eddie coos, almost tenderly, but there is nothing tender to his touch as he takes him in hand. His fingers are long and warm and calloused, the edges of his rings deliciously sharp against Steve’s sensitive tip. Eddie squeezes, tight, and the zap of pain sizzles all the way up his spine, like tiny, bright sparks in the dark. He moans, low and wrecked, and Eddie laughs against his pulse.
“Why, sweetheart, are you enjoying this? If I had known what a fucked-up little slut you are, I would've done this sooner.”
“Don't call me-” Steve starts to say. Eddie pinches him, just where his aching balls connect to his cock, and the words trail off into a hoarse wheeze.
“Don't call you what?” Eddie asks. “Sweetheart? Or my little slut? Well, I've got news for you, baby.”
He slips the knife back into the holster under his suit jacket in one swift motion, then shoves three fingers into Steve’s mouth, so hard and fast he nearly chokes on them.
“I'm gonna call you whatever I want,” Eddie purrs, one hand fucking into his mouth, the other pumping his throbbing cock. “I'm gonna call you whatever the fuck I want, and you're gonna be glad for it. Everything I give you, you're gonna take, and when I'm done, you're gonna thank me for it. Do you know why that is?”
He slides his fingers out, patting Steve's cheek encouragingly. They leave a thin, cool sheen of spit, just next to the bruise.
“Because I'm yours,” Steve rasps.
“That's right honey.” Eddie’s smile is sharp and pretty and hurts in all the best ways. “Go ahead now, give me what's mine.”
Steve's climax hits him with a violence that forces the air from his lungs in a startled scream. Eddie licks the sound from his lips like it's the sweetest nectar while Steve spills all over his hand and his own stomach, staining both of their expensive suits. It feels like being consumed whole. It feels like being pulled apart at the seams, like being shattered into a million tiny pieces.
Eddie keeps kissing him until his lips feel puffy and swollen, keeps stroking him until his spent cock is sensitive and raw, until all that falls from his lips are high-pitched whines and a nonsensical string of Eddie, Eddie, please, so good, thank you, Eddie.
“Aw, baby,” Eddie murmurs, sharp teeth nipping at the edge of his jaw. “Don't thank me just yet. You don't think I'm done with you already, do you?”
If coming undone under Eddie’s hands was like shattering apart, the feeling of Eddie opening him up on come-slicked fingers feels like being put together again. The burn of Eddie replacing those fingers with his cock, fucking him hard and fast into the backseat, feels like a rebirth.
The pain when he comes for a second time, dry and untouched, and with Eddie’s name on his lips, feels like the beginning of a new life.
He's made into a new kind of person that night in the car, one that belongs to Eddie Munson, heart, body and soul. He never once looks back.
More Smutty September
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Sink Into Me - 05 - mob!Steve Rogers x plus size! reader
Summary: You were simply doing a good deed, pulling the handsome stranger out of the way when a car jumped the curb. Little did you know that the life you saved belonged to Steve Rogers, the Army veteran turned art dealer with connections to the Brooklyn crime syndicate.
Steve Rogers, who won’t stop calling you his guardian angel.
Steve Rogers, whose new goal in life just might be repaying his debt to you.
Steve Rogers, who isn’t shy until it comes to his feelings and will stop at nothing to keep you safe.
Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08
Wordcount: 6k
Warnings: some smut in this one, vague references to violence, canon level violence (series), body image issues (series)
Notes: thank you all for reading! means a lot to me. i’d love to hear your thoughts and remember, a reblog goes a long way for a writer on this hellsite!! ( if you see me in the wild, i’m @simmerandcry)
--
As happy as you were to have Steve laying beside you in bed, you weren’t ready to sleep yet. Not when you hadn’t seen him in almost a week. Sure, you had both very quickly made up for lost time – you weren’t sure you’d be walking straight tomorrow – but it was these quiet moments, just the two of you, that you cherished the most.
With your head resting on his bare chest, you traced your fingers along the tattoos that decorated his skin. The eagle, the poetry verse, the cross, the script displaying his mother’s name - you liked how they all seemed to tell a story and also provide an extra bit of insight about Steve.
“Which one did you get first?” You asked quietly, propping yourself up slightly to get a better scan of his torso. He had pulled his boxers back on after you cleaned up but he still had plenty of skin showing. “And which one hurt the most?”
Steve glanced at your curious smile then scanned over his chest. “This one hurt the most, against my ribs.” He tipped to the side slightly, revealing a traditional style tattoo that lined the right side of his torso. “And the first..” A laugh escaped him, moving his hand to tug at the waistband of his boxers. He pointed to the faint outline of a fading tattoo, just a few letters that adorned the front of his left hip.
You twisted to see what he was pointing at. “I never noticed that - what does it say? ‘Punk’?”
“Yeah,” Steve was laughing again, running his thumb over the letters. “Me and Buck gave each other tattoos one night. Dumb teenage shit, you know?”
“That’s strangely… endearing,” you laughed along, letting out a long breath and returning to your spot resting against him. “Bucky’s your best friend?”
“Seems a bit juvenile to say it that way, but yeah. I trust him with my life.” Steve circled his arm around you and held you closer somehow. The light touch of his fingertips grazed your shoulders. “Me and him, we’ve.. We’ve been through a lot together.”
“Can you tell me something no one else knows about you?” You closed your eyes, fighting off the heavy wave of sleep that was creeping in. “Not even Bucky?”
“Hmm.” Steve paused, taking the extra moment to press a kiss to the top of your head while he thought of his answer. “I closed on a new property today.”
You opened your eyes again. “Okay, that’s… a fact, I guess.”
His chest rumbled, smirking. “I bought a cabin in Connecticut, near the state border. It’s a little thing - triangle A-frame structure, two bedrooms, comes with a canoe and a kayak, there’s a trail down to a lake..”
You couldn’t help but push yourself up again, turning to smile at him with wide eyes. “It sounds beautiful! Just an investment property orr…”
“No, it’s for me. I want somewhere to escape the city. It needs some work but I want it to be all season.”
“I can’t wait to see some photos.”
“Maybe we could..” Steve trailed off, eyes closing momentarily before he opened just one to peek at you. “Could up there on a weekend? Just us two?”
Your cheeks warmed at the thought of a weekend away with Steve, away from everything, cozy around a fire. “That sounds like a dream.”
“Well, let’s make it happen, sweetheart.”
---
“Hey, you’ve barely even commented on that terrible design - where is your head right now?”
You sighed, tearing your empty stare from your TV across the room and down towards where Maria was sitting on the rug. You had invited her over to binge the latest season of your favourite reality tv fashion show and, well, you were clearly being a bad host.
Truthfully, you were lost in your thoughts. You’d been drawing in them a lot over the past few weeks. You could feel your work life balance slipping away as another busy project season approached. And moving had thrown you for a loop. But mostly your mind was racing thinking about Steve. Your pros and cons list about him and the state of your relationship was growing on each side.
God, the pros were so good. He was attentive, kind and interesting. You both had fun together, you laughed a lot and he cared as much about Hercules as he did you. And the sex was amazing - he really enjoyed taking care of you. Steve was strong in his convictions, fought through adversity, and remained passionate about the things that mattered to him.
But on the other hand, you knew it was fair to have doubts. Steve was busy with work and whatever else was going on in his life and you didn’t see each other as often as you both would like. And there was the large mystery of what he really did for work anyway, though you could put enough pieces together. Quiet phone calls, an endless list of people who seemed to report to him, the illicit activities at the club, his resistance to the police…
“Are you okay?” Maria shifted slightly, pausing the show and turning to look up at you as you clutched a pillow anxiously on the couch.
“I’m just thinking about Steve,” you finally admitted, closing your eyes and collapsing back into the couch.
“What else is new?” Maria joked, eyes narrowed as you watched you. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve been willfully ignorant about his..” You hesitated. “..His work.”
Maria scooted closer, propped up on her knees. “Okay, yeah, let’s dig in because what is all that about? I was kind of joking about the mob thing but..” Her eyes grew dramatically wide. “Wait.” Reaching for her phone, she tapped on the screen and looked back at you. “Hey Google - what does a mob boss do?”
“No, come on,” you laughed, though it was mostly to hide your concern. “It’s going to burst the bubble, you know? The minute I really admit all this out loud.”
Maria scanned over the webpage illuminated on her phone. “It’s kind of a spectrum of information here. Whatever this thing is he’s running, they could have their hands in a lot of stuff like loaning money, tax fraud, political racketeering, illegal weapons, murd–”
Shaking your head, you reached for her phone and took it from her. “Stop, please. I don’t want to..” You sighed and draped your arm across your eyes. “Last week, I was staying over at his place and he got a call in the middle of the night. Something so important he had to leave for an hour but of course he didn’t give me any details. But that can’t be a good thing, right? I’m not an idiot.”
Maria just sighed, your name quiet on her lips. “I know you’re not an idiot. But maybe.. I don’t know. Maybe this was only meant to be short term.”
A beat of silence sat between you both. Eventually, you took a deep breath. “Steve is a good person.”
Maria nudged you with her elbow. “Is he?”
“Yes! The side of him I see is… good, I think.”
“And the side you don’t see?”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
Maria said your name softly, enticing you to peel your arm away and look at her. “It just sounds like whatever Steve does - lawful or illegal or whatever - it could be dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt or caught up in something you shouldn’t be a part of.”
“I don’t want that either,” you replied quietly. A dramatic groan followed as you fell sideways onto the couch cushions. You knew Steve would never, ever let you get hurt. The real problem though was - what could even be potential harm for you? Wasn’t being with Steve just adding to that big potential risk? Maybe it really was time to admit that and maybe it was time for a hard conversation. “It feels like I met the right person at the wrong time.”
Maria offered you a small sympathetic smile. “It also feels like it’s time for the second bottle of wine.”
---
Even thinking about starting the conversation with Steve intimidated you. Deep down, you knew you were just delaying it on purpose - remaining perfectly content in your honeymoon phase.
After a long workday, you had collected Hercules from his daycare then headed home, showered and talked yourself into being bold enough to bring it up with Steve. You met him at Shield, where he promised he was just about done with some paperwork then you could find somewhere to go for dinner.
You waited patiently in the chair across from his desk, fingers tapping against the arm of the chair as you watched him. Out of all the days, it was this day he had chosen to reveal to you that he sometimes wore reading glasses.
And fuck if he didn’t look even more attractive in a pair of glasses. Now your stomach was swirling with anxiety and something else, too. You weren’t sure how much longer you could contain yourself.
“You okay?” Steve’s voice broke through your thoughts. You met his gaze over the desk. He had stopped his pen from marking up the ledger ahead of him, staring at you with stoic curiosity instead. “I’m almost done, I promise.”
“No, no. Take your time.” You waved your hand and looked anywhere else in the room.
He kept a photo of his mom on the corner of his desk. A framed antique movie poster decorated one wall and–
“Sweetheart?”
You sighed and looked back at him. “I’m fine. Just.. I had a long day. My boss has been micromanaging me like crazy and… just tired, I guess.”
You could tell he didn’t really believe you, but thankfully he didn’t press. He did drop his pen down, though. With one swift motion, he closed his ledger book and leaned back in his chair.
“C’mhere, my tired girl.”
With another sigh, you pretended for a moment to consider rejecting how he was inviting you over to his side of the desk. But you couldn’t resist. You stood and shuffled your way over there, letting him gently perch you on the side of his desk as he stood from his chair.
His hands found your hips quickly, as he leaned down and looked into your eyes. “We don’t have to go out.”
“No, no,” you shook your head. “I want to! I just..” You scrunched up your face, trying to find something convincing to say. “My mind is all over the place today.”
Steve gave you one of his little charming half smiles, slotting himself between your legs and moving his hands up to cradle both your cheeks. His thumb brushed over the apple of your cheeks. “Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”
Before you could let out the breath you were holding, across the room someone banged on the door. Steve grumbled under his breath and opened his mouth to dismiss whoever was there, but instead the door rushed open.
“Rogers, your phone broken? We were supposed to start this meeting twenty –”
You tried to turn your head to see who was there, but Steve held you steady. A series of expletives left his mouth as he stepped back for a moment, shouting towards the door.
“And since when do we meet in my fucking office, Russo?” Steve dropped his hands and moved towards the door, acting as a barrier between you and the opposite side of the room. You craned your neck to see them standing on either side of the doorway.
“I’ll meet you at the bar then..” The other voice eventually replied, footsteps disappearing in the hallway.
“Fuck..” You heard Steve muttering again.
Well, date night was definitely off the table, you were certain of it.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I double booked and –”
“Steve, it’s fine.” You dismissed him immediately, hopping off the desk and meeting him in the middle of the room. “I can take my rotten mood home, it’s probably better this way.”
“I’ll get Shaun to take you home, okay? He should be downstairs.”
You could see the genuine disappointment on Steve’s face. He clearly felt bad that his meeting had slipped his mind but it occurred to you that certain things were probably easier for him to prioritize and, well, where did that leave you?
You just nodded and accepted the offer. Steve grabbed your hand and guided you back down to the main part of the bar, making one quick hand motion to his driver, who immediately jumped to attention and hurried outside to pull a car around.
“Come over after?” You brought your hand up and poked his chest. “I’ll order a pizza?”
He nodded, reaching for his wallet. “Let me pay for it, at least.”
“Steve,” you laughed, stopping his hand and looking over your shoulder briefly. You didn’t recognize a few of the people lingering around the bar, a few of which were clearly watching you and Steve. “It’s okay.”
He sighed, head shaking. When you resisted again, he held up his hands in defense. “Fine, but I’m coming over with a pint of gelato then.”
You smiled. “Sounds amazing.” You looked back again, then raised up onto your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you later.”
---
Steve sent you a few updates throughout the night. That his meeting went longer than he hoped, that they had to meet up with someone else, that he was sorry and would be there soon. When he finally showed up, you had already packed the pizza away and changed into your pajamas to sprawl out on the couch. Hercules was sprawled out under your feet just the same.
When he opened the door, you twisted and offered him a smile. Though it disappeared quickly when you got a better look at him under the lights in your kitchen. You didn’t mean to gasp but when you narrowed your eyes, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.
“Steve - are you bleeding?” You leaped up from the couch and met him near the kitchen sink, pulling his shoulder in an attempt to see his neckline better. “There’s blood all over your—“
“Shit.” He took a step back from you, letting out a long breath as he lifted a hand to his collar. “Fucking shit.”
“Are you hurt? What happened?” You twisted your head again, trying to look but he turned away. “Steve.”
Silence hung between you both.
Eventually, he cleared his throat. “I’m fine. It’s…it’s not my blood.”
You took a step back, trying to ignore the heavy feeling that took over your stomach. Maybe you were about to have the dreaded conversation sooner than later.
Steve turned on his heel and looked at you, teeth gritted as he found his words. “It's, uh, an occupational hazard.”
Brow furrowed, you frowned. “This isn’t funny.”
He pulled at his collar and sighed again. “I’m not laughing.”
“Steve.” You walked backwards until you hit your couch, perching yourself on the end with crossed arms as you watched him across the room. He wasn’t making this conversation any easier - shedding his jacket and collared shirt left him in just a goddamn white tanktop and fuck if he didn’t look so incredibly built. “Did you - did you ki-”
He cut you off, head shaking as he muttered out your name. “Please don’t ask that question.”
You took a deep breath. “We have both been ignorant here, okay? And I don’t want to ask but I don’t know if I can avoid it anymore so.. So, you’re in.. the mob? You run the…”
Steve smirked, briefly, then shook his head as his jaw tensed. His discomfort was evident in every twitch. “That’s an archaic term.” He let the air out of his lungs then reached for his jacket. “No, we can’t do this. I won’t do this.”
“Tell me the truth!” Your voice came out louder than you intended, but you carried on. “I’m not an idiot, Steve. And neither are you. I’m smart enough to figure out that whatever you consider your ‘business’ - it’s above the law, or below it, I guess.”
He gritted his teeth for a moment as he considered his words. “Fine. I guess we’re talking about this now.” He paused. “It’s my responsibility to manage a network of people, alright? People who..”
“You can’t even say it out loud,” you scoffed quietly, shaking your head as you looked away.
Steve huffed, calling your name to grab your attention again. “What do you want me to say, huh? That I have a team of people working for me. I loan money, I make trades and get a cut, I turn a blind eye to things when necessary. I don’t always follow the rules or act with civility. That part of my life -I, I don’t want you involved, okay? So forgive me for trying to shield you from that.”
“Don’t act like you’re doing me a favour, Steve!” You sighed. “I don’t get it. You’ve shown me who you are - who you really are - time and time again and that version of you, I just.. how does the Steve who has a little hideaway cottage upstate, who-who funds after school programs in his neighbourhood - how does he kill people!?”
Steve took a step forward, your name on his lips. “Listen to me, I didn’t—”
You choked out a dry laugh “Stop. You have literal blood on your hands.”
He shook his head, mouth agape. “I use force when I need to and I like to ensure my message is understood by any means possible. But unless absolutely necessary, I don’t take lives.”
“How am I supposed to believe that?”
“I told you I’d never lie to you.”
You didn’t reply.
“You called me, sweetheart. Remember?” He closed in the space between you and reached for your hand. “Those idiots were breaking into your apartment and you didn’t dial 911, you called me. Why?”
Hesitantly, you extended your arm and let him squeeze your hand.
He brushed his thumb across your knuckles. “Because you know that deep down, maybe the cops wouldn’t get there quick enough. Maybe they wouldn’t help you at all. You’d get a report, one follow up call and nothing else. I know there are good cops but they are overworked and outnumbered. And the bad ones.. I’m doing my part and taking care of my city in any way I can.”
You looked up at him again. The blood was still staining his neck. With one firm tug, you removed your hand from his hold. Your voice shook. “You should go.”
“I think we need to— ”
You flicked your wrist to the door. “Go.”
Though you could see him resisting, Steve relented and stepped back from you. His mouth opened to argue but snapped shut quickly. Gripping his soiled shirt, he moved towards the doorway.
“Steve?” You stood up and he paused, meeting your glossy eyes. “Do you think you’re a good person?”
“What matters more is if you think I’m a good person, sweetheart.” He paused and waited for a reaction from you but you remained motionless. “I’ll, uh- goodnight. I’m sorry.”
Just as soon as the door clicked shut, you collapsed onto your couch, consumed by your tears.
---
You weren’t entirely sure why your day went so poorly - was it your boss and their awful attitude? Was it the coffee you spilled all over your lap at lunch? Was it the fact that ignoring Steve and every thought about him was grinding on your emotions?
All you wanted was a hot shower and dinner under a blanket on the couch. That was it. You just had to make it home. You figured at least the bad day was behind you as you headed to your apartment. Because you couldn’t imagine it getting worse.
Hah.
You [6:51PM]: hey
You [6:51PM]: i know we left everything up in the air
You [6:51PM]: but I don’t know what to do
You [6:52PM]: I think someone is following me
Maybe you were being paranoid. Because you were in a hurry. For that same reason, you couldn’t be certain the same man from the subway was following you to your bus stop. But when you hesitated and turned down a side street, pretending to be very interested in the fruit display outside some nearby bodega, he slowed down too. And when you opted to turn back and join the line at Starbucks, as a test, he followed.
You tried not to panic.
Your first thought was to message Steve, a habit you had been struggling to resist all week. He’d reached out a handful of times since your fight but you had done a damn good job not replying. But now? He was the first person to come to your mind.
Moments after you reached out to him, your phone rang.
You brought it to your ear as you waited in line. “Hi.”
“Are you safe? Where are you? Can you share your location with me?”
You let out a long breath. “Sure, just a sec.” You pulled your phone away and did as he requested. “Done.”
“That’s perfect, thank you sweetheart. I’m on my way to meet you. Are there a lot of people around you?”
“Yes, plenty.”
“Great. My GPS is telling me you’re at Starbucks? Is that right?”
“Yeah - want me to grab you a cake pop? You seem like the cake pop type.” You paused. “I’m just gonna order - should I call you back or..?”
“No, you’re good. I’ll be right here. Go ahead.”
You smiled at the barista, trying to maintain your composure. Pulling your phone down slightly, you ordered. “Just a tall americano, please. With a bit of milk.”
Steve chirped in your ear. “Decaf?”
Oh, shit. It was after six already. And here Steve was, in the middle of your panic, reminding you of your own caffeine sensitivity. You paused before paying for your drink. “Can you make that decaf, please?”
After you paid, you heard Steve again. “I’m about a block away.” God, he was moving fast. You could hear honking behind him.
“Okay, I’m uh..” You faltered, scanning the crowd for the man who has been following you. You ducked behind a couple sitting at a tall table when you noticed him lingering near the door. “The guy.. I think he’s waiting for me to leave. Maybe. I don’t know, actually. I might have made this whole thing up or -”
“Just stay where you are, keep talking to me.” It sounded like he was walking now. “Whatever your gut tells you, it's important. Nothing wrong with that, I promise.”
You hummed a quiet agreement. That kind of justification did make you feel better but your doubts continued to creep in. Grabbing your drink as your name was called, you took a few steps forwards and finally spotted Steve at the door.
“The guy in the blue jacket?”
You quietly confirmed, finally meeting Steve’s eyes across the sea of people waiting in line. The sight of his smile, though just there for a moment, mostly settled the turmoil in your stomach.
“Just stay right there until I come get you, okay?”
With a final nod, Steve ended the call and returned his phone to his pocket. Then you watched as he very subtly stepped up to the man you had described, leaning in to whisper something in his ear.
The man froze.
Steve reached out and gripped his shoulder, guiding him outside and beyond the window. Then you lost sight of them both and you tried not to let your mind wander.
You sipped your coffee, sliding into a chair at a free table - though you were smart enough to keep your back to the wall, waiting for Steve to come back for you. Finally letting yourself breathe, the gravity of the situation seemed to settle in you. Why was someone following you? Was this connected to the break in at your apartment again? Was it something related to Steve?
Steve.
God, you couldn’t believe how he dropped everything to come protect you from whatever this was, if it was anything at all. Actually, no, you could believe it. Because Steve had proven many times that he cared about you and your wellbeing.
“What matters more is if you think I’m a good person, sweetheart.”
Could a good person do bad things? Didn’t that make them a bad person? Fuck, you didn’t want to get into the moral gymnastics of this again.
You were freed from the spiral of thoughts when Steve dropped into the seat across from you, eyes narrow with concern. You knew he was searching your face for distress, pain, anything.
“You okay?” Finally he spoke, slowly reaching his hand out to grab yours as it sat on the table. You squeezed back as he held on.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“He didn’t touch you?”
“No, no. Kept his distance enough that I was second guessing myself but..”
You wanted to ask who the guy was, if Steve knew him, why he might be following you. But you didn’t really want answers to those questions.
“Let me take you home,” Steve let your hand go and nodded towards the door. “Do you need to get Hercules?”
You revealed a small smile though it faded quickly. “I do.. but..” You swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes. “Can I.. I don’t want to be alone.”
“Okay, let’s grab your boy and we’ll go to my place.”
---
Despite the straight lines and cool tones that decorated Steve’s apartment, you felt comfortable there. The entire journey to get through his door, from the car ride to the elevator, you felt like you were holding your breath. But walking into his living room, as Hercules padded across the kitchen floor to slurp up some water from a dish Steve had left for him, you felt the tension release from your shoulders. Finally.
You fiddled with the sleeves of your sweater as you crossed the room, stopping in front of the large windows that looked down onto the city. You felt small suddenly.
Behind you, Hercules’ wandering footsteps came to an end as he flopped down in the middle of the living room. Then, you could hear Steve walking towards you too, slowly.
He stopped at your side, casting a brief sideways glance to you before he shifted his gaze to the skyline.
You swallowed hard, tangling your hands together as you spoke. “I called you.. that night... Because you make me feel safe, Steve. I can’t really explain it but it’s something I’ve never felt before..” A small laugh escaped you. “Even now, wearing my heart on my sleeve, I think I should be scared and yet..” Turning your head to the side, you met his eyes. “..I’m safe.”
You couldn’t read his reaction. Was it confusion, relief, understanding? He dragged a hand across his jaw before looking away again.
“Steve?” You grabbed his nearest hand. “Thank you.”
To your surprise, Steve pulled his hand back for a moment then turned and brought it up to cradle your cheek. His eyes burned with something you hadn’t seen before - something deep, intense. “You don’t have to thank me - you shouldn’t have to thank anyone for caring about you, sweetheart. It’s an honour — it’s my privilege to keep you safe.”
You were shrouded in him - the intense feeling of protection radiated through his stare, through his touch, his words. Why couldn’t this be easier? Right then, it felt easy but you knew it wouldn’t always be that way.
You closed your eyes briefly then looked back up at him. “What do we do now?”
He licked his lips, resisting breaking eye contact with you. “Who I am- it doesn’t go away.”
“I know. Logically, maybe walking away makes sense.. before this gets more tangled. But I just don’t… that’s not what I want.”
Steve stepped forward, closing in the space between you. “Okay. Then what do you want?”
You couldn’t answer. You wanted to smash your lips into his, run your hands down his back, feel him on top of you. But your logical brain stopped you. With all the willpower you could manage, you pulled away and took a small step back. “I want to.. uhm. Shower. Do you mind if I—”
Steve took a step back too, nodding. “Of course. Yeah. Go ahead. There’s fresh towels in my bathroom..”
With a solemn nod you turned and headed down the hall, doing your best not to look back at him.
Fuck, you were so totally fucked. What the fuck were you doing?
Steve’s shower was incredible compared to the one in the guest room. Spacious, with heated tile on the floor and a rainfall shower head. You turned on the water to warm up as you undressed, opening the door to his small linen cabinet to grab a towel. Then you saw it - the neat stack of your preferred shampoo, conditioner, lotion and body wash.
Had Steve grabbed those just for you? You could cry just thinking of him walking around CVS and matching the toiletries to the ones you kept in your own bathroom. You wrapped the towel around your torso and moved the soaps to the bench in the shower, then peaked your head out the bathroom door.
“Steve?” You called out his name, hearing quick footsteps heading your way.
He stepped into the bedroom and met you at the door frame. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just, uh..” you hesitated, taking a deep breath. “I can’t figure out how the shower works.”
He frowned. “Huh. I can show you the-” His face turned to a smile instead, taking in your coy smirk. With one hand he reached for the hem of his shirt. He gave you another look, as if to make sure you really wanted his company.
You grabbed his hand, letting your towel drop to the floor. “Come on.”
Steve didn’t waste any time tearing off his clothes and joining you under the water. Once you were both well soaked, the whole shower filled with steam as his lips found yours.
He was hungry for you and you were hungry for him too. Gone were the doubts and fears and worries as you were left with just Steve - with his calloused careful hands and his soft lips, his calculated touch. He was a man with a mission.
“Fuck,” you whimpered out, breathless as Steve’s lips moved towards your neck. “Steve, I..”
“Tell me what you need, baby. Tell me and you can have it.” His hands snaked over your body, gliding easily over every inch of your skin.
You gasped as his hands gripped your ass, before slipping around to the front, between your legs.
“There.. Yes,” you breathed out against the shell of his ear. “Make me come, please. Fuck me, tell me I’m yours..”
One of Steve’s hands came back up to capture your lips again, to cradle your jaw as his other started to play a symphony between your legs. His fingers moved gently at first, circling your clit slowly to warm you up. His tongue danced against yours, grinning against your mouth as you let out a tiny whimper. “Is that good? Is this what you need, my love?”
My love? The man was going to kill you, unraveling you inch by inch, touch by touch.
“Yes, yes!” Was all you could muster to reply as Steve sped up, challenging both himself and you to get you there with a bigger impact. You barely had time to prepare yourself for the climax, shaking against his hand as his lips clamped down against the skin of your neck.
You could tell he was going to leave a mark there.
You didn’t care.
In a swift motion, he moved his hand from between your legs to the outside of your thigh, lifting it up against his hip and pulling back enough to align himself with you. On your other leg, you raised yourself onto your toes to meet him and then you heard it - that deep, sensual growl that echoed from his chest.
“Holy fuck, baby,” he seethed through his teeth, head tipped back momentarily as he pushed himself fully into you. You pulled him back to your mouth, holding his cheeks in your hands as you breathed him in. “I need this - need you..”
He collapsed against you, thrusting slow and steady, eliciting a whine from you with every extra push. And then, before you could even understand what was happening, Steve was lifting you - hands gripping the underside of your ass cheeks to hold you steady. You nearly protested, thinking about the sheer physics of what was happening - but damnit, Steve was stronger than you realized.
“I won’t let you fall, baby. Won’t let anything happen to my girl, I promise..” He answered your racing questions without hesitation, keeping you safe and secure in his arms as he fucked into you with an unmatched intensity. Christ, you feared the tiles might shatter behind your back.
“You’re my girl, all mine..”
You wondered momentarily if the subtext behind his words matched yours. When he said you were his, did he mean it? In his heart and soul?
“Wanna do this forever..” He continued, head nestled beside your own as his pace increased. “Wanna make you feel good, happy. Safe. Want you around me forever.”
You were nearly bursting at the seams, anticipating the wave of feelings as another orgasm approached. “Steve..” you were breathless, barely audible in his ear. “Come with me, baby.”
“I’m close..” he returned, pulling back to find your lips. “I’m gonna— ”
He collapsed against you as he reached his peak, grunting as the last motions of his hips tensed and he flooded into you. He held you there, legs shaking around him as you came down from your own climax.
You both caught your breath, lost in the sound of the water hitting the tiled floor.
---
Steve never wanted to take his moments with you for granted, especially in the early morning light. You were a dream under the golden rays - somehow attached to his side in your sweet slumber. This was all he dreamed of. Silent, calm, serenity.
Resisting his urge to check his phone, he shuffled and pulled his arm around you, keeping your back cradled against his chest. Fuck, even your half dressed form under the sheets had him ready to go first thing in the morning.
You rustled under his hold. “Morning..” The rasp of your first spoken words melted his heart.
“Did I wake you?” He asked before pressing a kiss to your neck, hot breath tickling your skin.
“No, no. Internal clock. Herc probably needs to go out..”
“He’s still asleep,” Steve replied, pausing to crane his neck and check on your sleeping dog just outside the doorway to his room. “Content.”
“Me too,” you said quietly, pressing your hips back against Steve. All of him. A low moan escaped you. “Very good morning..”
Steve took that as enough of a cue and let his lips get to work. Kisses were pressed against your neck and shoulders as the hand tucked around your waist reached below your shirt. With every twist of your nipples, your hips moved more aggressively.
Steve grinned. “Let me take care of you, baby.” His hands explored all over - from your chest, across your soft stomach to underneath the waistband of your underwear. “God damn, I love how you feel. All ready for me..”
It wasn’t long before you were shaking at his hands and he was lifting your thigh to slide in, hungry and relentless to really feel you. He held you tight, your bodies moulded together as the city woke up beneath you. Steve breathed out your name again and again, like some kind of secret prayer.
With a firm hand gripping your hip, he let himself go with a possessive growl. God, he could start every day like this forever if you’d let him - a reminder to you both of how he felt for you, how you were tied together, how you’d both get to think back to this moment during every other hour of the day.
Eventually, you had to leave the bed and return to the real world.
Steve took you home, waited as you got changed for work as he caught up on his own outstanding messages. Then he took you to drop off Hercules and delivered you safely to the front door of your office.
After one or two or three kisses, you reached for the handle of your door. He called your name to stop you.
“Steve, I’m already late,” you frowned, tipping your head to watch him.
He sighed, though a small apologetic lined his face. “Just one more thing. Next weekend - would you be up for a road trip to the cabin? We can talk about.. everything.”
You thought for a moment then nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.” Leaning in, you stole another kiss. “Okay, I’ve gotta get upstairs. Thanks for the ride. I lov-” You blinked and caught yourself. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Steve watched as you hurried away. He sighed, teeth clenched, only putting his car back into drive once you were safely inside.
With a tight grip on the steering wheel, Steve headed into Manhattan. The early morning traffic would normally bother him, but he didn’t mind the extra time with his thoughts before he made it to his meeting.
If he could even call it a meeting. God, he hated the mind games his mentor liked to play. Elusive, tricky and always trying to teach a lesson - Nick Fury was a force to be reckoned with.
Steve pulled up to the The Gemini Hotel, nodding to the young kid scurrying working the valet desk as he handed over his keys and headed inside. Steve didn’t bother even sparing a glance towards the attendant at the front desk and he ignored the concierge too, striding directly to the elevator to head up to the penthouse. Conveniently, he ran smack into Fury’s right hand man once Steve stepped into the elevator.
“You’re about twelve hours late,” Phil Coulson started, eyes stealing ahead as they travelled upwards.
Steve didn’t reply. When the elevator dinged, Steve surged forward and hurried down the hall to the familiar suite. With a grunt, he pushed past the security guard waiting outside the door and made his way inside.
“Good fucking lord, can’t a man read the paper and eat his croissant in peace?”
Steve ignored the commentary from Nick Fury, who was leaning back in an office chair with his feet propped up on the desk. Steve reached across and pulled the newspaper away, slamming his hands down on the desk and staring the other man down. “Fury, we need to talk.”
--
Up next: drama, probably. and some more Steve POV.
CHAPTER 04 - CHAPTER 06
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The Outsiders Mafia AU (Headcanons)
!!WARNING: This may contain some spoilers!!!
-Johnny loves Jazz (blues are a close second)
-Darrel is called ‘Superman’ because he once stopped mid getaway to help a woman cross the street
-The entire mafia group worships Frank Sinatra
-Tim got his scar in a violent one-on-one fight with Dallas, which also led to him losing the eye
-Johnny is a FANTASTIC cook, and shares his love through food
-Ponyboy used to watch a ton of Mafia/Secret Agent movies to ‘study’ for his future job
-The Shepherds are all from Sicily, and lived there for most of their teen years
-Johnny learned to speak several languages so that he make international deals
-Angela puts hours of efforts into her curls, and once killed a man for trying to run his fingers through them to flirt
-Curly prides himself in his height, he grew to the same height as Tim just a year before the events of ‘No Permanent Death’ and loves to remind everyone
-Johnny actually has a hatred for alcohol, but drinks it (or pretends to) to make himself seem older
-Tim will only ever drink beer
-Dallas became an assassin because he wanted to be like Charlie Chan and almost quit when he realized the man was, in fact, not an assassin
-Johnny has faked his own death about six times, and has gotten creepily good at it
-Darry hates swearing, and only does it when he’s very very upset
-Darrel is the only Curtis who can speak more than just English, He learned Italian so he could understand exposed messages within the Mob
-Dallas has actually run into the Shepherds several times, he never realized Johnny was Bambi because
usually the boss doesn’t participate in the fights
-The socs do exist in this universe!! Most of them are businessmen/women who the mob has killed :P
-Sylvia also exists!! She is Dally’s ex-girlfriend, she left him after she figured out he kills people for a living
-Soda and Steve are still dating Evie and Sandy in this verse. Sandy isn’t aware of what Soda does, Evie actually is also a member of the mob and often helped out Steve at work
-When Mr.Shepherd died, all of his jewelry was given to Johnny because he was taking his place. The only thing he kept was a ring (a thick, gold, engraved ring with a red ruby) the rest was given to the Shepherds to disperse amongst themselves
-The Shepherds each got one ear pierced when they were teens to be more like their father
-Johnny sees the Shepherds as his equals, which is the reason they all dress similarly. This is also why it doesn’t occur to someone that he is the boss.
-Angelas callsign “Bella” comes from the word Bello: which means Beautiful in Italian
-Johnny once shot a very important client just because they shoved Curly
-Curly is actually really bad at his job, but gets away with it because of pure luck
-Soda got the name ‘Dice’ because he's known for taking chances on the job
-Johnny called Tim ‘Scarface’ after he lost his eye in an attempt to raise his spirits, and the name just stuck
-Tim has a glass eye, but often takes it out because he thinks its funny how grossed out his coworkers get
-Johnny wanted to be a musician, and can play the sax and guitar (he couldn’t decide if he wanted to be Louis Armstrong or Chuck Berry lmao)
-Curly wholeheartedly thought he and Johnny were related for most of his life, because he wasn’t on the mission where they found him
-Johnny gives out most of the nicknames, he was actually the first person to call Darry ‘Superman’
-The Sicilian Mafia is usually very specific about only letting in Italians. Johnny called bullshit on this, and that's how Steve(slick) and Buck(comma) got put in
-Steve used to work at the DX, he got invited in to the mafia because he was the only one who was willing to take Johnny’s car (all of his former coworkers thought a scruffy child with a century old car wouldn’t pay well)
-Buck got invited in after Tim and Johnny saw a man throw a drink on him (he beat the man to a pulp and Johnny said he had good enough aim to work for them)
-Angela LOVES compliments (She forces her brothers to hype her up 24/7)
-Johnny holds large dinners with everyone who works under him once a month to get to know them. The reason so many people are willing to take orders from him is because they know he’s the kindest boss they’ll get
-Tim is incredibly well-versed in dressing wounds, it's become somewhat of his job
-Curly cannot aim for shit, and has repeatedly just handed the gun to someone else
-The Curtis’s used to have a dog before Ponyboy was born, but they had to get rid of it to be able to pay for his upbringing
-Curly is known for full-on tackling people in fights, which actually works incredibly well
-Johnny is a horrible driver and has hit several pedestrians, animals, and trees (and got very upset after each one)
-Ponyboy has a binder that he uses as a dairy, he had pages dating back to his parents death
-Curly once tried to tackle Darry on a mission, Darry then simply pulled him off and tossed him out of the room
-Darrel refuses to do any work that involves a woman, and has lost to the Shepherds several times because he wouldn’t detain Angela
-Soda once drove a getaway car straight into the side of a building, and it almost got him and Darry killed
-Johnny paid for Steve to get braces, and he had the nickname ‘Lock Jaw’ for a VERY long time
-The Curtis’s often have movie nights!!
-Johnny refuses to hurt children, and often makes someone take the kid to another room if they do anything violent
-Ponyboy LOVES the arts, and his knowledge of Italian literature and art has saved him many times
-Angela is an excellent baker, and often tries to get her brothers to help her (they fuck it up every single time)
-Ponyboy still has nightmares in this universe, and has climbed into Soda/Darrys bed several times
-Darry hates that Pony often sees him as the bad guy, but knows he has to be to keep him safe
-Johnny is known for having an odd sense of humor and it has almost gotten him killed a million times
-Tim has “la famiglia” tattooed on his right bicep, with three little hearts under it (very similar to the one his father has on his neck)
-Though Steve doesn’t have and important role in the Mafia, him and Johnny are very good friends
-Tim is what's known as the ‘consigliere’ which means he serves as an adviser to the leader and resolves disputes within the family. (Johnny refused to make anyone the underboss because he didn’t like to think of any of them beneath him in rank)
-Ponyboy is a stargazer
-Johnny was been confused for a girl several times due to his long hair, but he refuses to cut it
-Tim gets very upset when people flirt with Angela (he’s the definition of a over-protective older brother)
-Johnny has never dated anyone- he knows whomever they are will be put in danger, and he doesn’t like the thought of people he loves fearing for their lives
-Soda once got a concussion because he ran into a wall during a chase with Curly, Curly only remembers him as ‘the wall kisser’
-The Shepherds all have a violent hatred for Ponyboy because Johnny told them about what happened in the first chapter (though Johnny has never spoken about him with even an ounce of malice)
-Darrel has been shot many times, so much so that the hospital knows him by name
-Johnny can’t stand hospitals because his parents once left him at one for three weeks. So even if he is on his damn deathbed he will NEVER go to one
-Just about everyone in the Mafia is not proud to be in it, but they all know it’s the best thing they can do with their backgrounds
-Buck and Johnny are rather close, and Buck often makes him fake drinks (ones without alcohol) because he knows how much the boy hates it
-Darry and Soda are both REALLY into cars. it’s actually helped them a lot in car chases, because they can always remember the make and model of the car
-The Shepherd Family was actually not very well known until Johnny took over, but he still worships Mr.Shepherd as if he’s the most famous man on earth
-most named characters has been to prison at one point (aside from Angela, Curly, Ponyboy, and Darrel)
-The job as Boss is incredibly stressful, and Tim has taken over for Johnny on several occasions
-Tim taught Angela, Curly, and Johnny hand-to-hand combat. He’ll often brag about it to anyone who will listen.
-Johnny goes by the Shepherd name, and only signs ‘Cade’ under important documents
-Angela has the best aim out of her entire family
-Tim actually was very upset when Johnny got his job as boss, but got over when he realized just how much the job SUCKEDD
-Two-Bit and Dallas worked together when they were rookies, but Dallas eventually moved on to do bigger and better things
-Ponyboy loves August weather, but feels he can’t enjoy those months becuase that’s when his folks died
-Two has run into Angela several times and made several (failed) attempts to flirt with her
-Johnny and Dallas have actually had several conversations in this universe, But Dallas never thought he was worth killing
-Sometimes random pastries/foods would appear on the Curtis doorstep during the Great Depression, they never knew where or who it came from but it helped them to survive (take a wild guess who made them lol)
-Johnny used to play the guitar while Angela sang to help Curly sleep <3
-Darry has never once touched a cigarette, but will drink jus tan out anything put in front of him
-Pony LOVES Italian food, but refuses to eat it because it just feels wrong to him
-Red is Angela’s favorite color, which is why the whole group is forced to wear something red (she picks out their clothes literally every day)
-Mrs.Shepherd died while giving birth to Curly, so Johnny and Curly have both never met her
-The Shepherds love spring because it reminds them of Sicily
-Bucks original nickname was FAG (Funny Accent Guy), given to him by Curly
-The Curtis brothers were all relatively short as kids, but shot up the second they hit puberty
-Tim tried to kidnap Louis Armstrong for Johnny's birthday (it did not work.)
-The Mafia has two main cover restaurants. One being a bar (that we see in the first chapter) and the other being an off-brand Italian place (Whenever someone fails an important job, they are banished to work at one of these two places)
-Johnny is the shortest person on his team, so he’ll often just step on their feet when they upset him
-Darrel is an avid people watcher
-Johnny actually looked up to many of the agents, and will excitedly tell people whenever he gets in a fight with one of them (even if he completely beats their ass he's still a total fanboy)
-Dallas has a really good memory, and can easily recall every fight he’s ever been in
If you have any other things you want me to write into the story, but them into the comments :D
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