Lessons in Rule Breaking and Other Reader-Inserts*Steve Rogers*Reader*

Hug It Out - Pt.4/4

Anyway. With a last self-encouraging inhale, you took the handle and opened the door.

Your heart positively skipped a beat.

He sat here, not even looking up from the papers he was working on, deep wrinkle of concentration between his eyebrows. You gulped, closing the door soundlessly.

Could he hear your heart racing? You hoped not. That would make things even more awkward.

"What did you n-" he started, but the words died in his throat when his gaze finally rose and was met with someone whom he probably wouldn't have expected, not even in his wildest dreams. Nightmares perhaps?

"Uhm... not Natasha," you stated the obvious, fiddling with your fingers.

Steve rose from his chair, staring at you silently, shock written all over his face. He seemed too stunned to speak.

"H-hi?" you tried out, not gaining any reaction so far.

You were met with another silence. This was getting even more awkward than you had thought it would. Fuck.

Just as you were taking a breath in to apologise for showing up and to offer you could walk yourself out, he finally opened his mouth.

"What are you doing here?"

Ouch. That tone.

He sounded angry. You honestly wanted to spin on your heels and run. Though he would probably catch you with zero effort.

"I-"

"How did you even get here?" he blurted out as he circled the table he had been sitting at, which made you jerk your foot; you wanted to take a step back because of pure self-preservation instinct.

He was a huge guy and he was coming right at you, okay.

Not sure where you took the courage, you subtly pointed at the visitors' passes on your neck. You wondered if it was another test. Maybe he was just... making sure you weren't Hydra or something?

Hydra is gone for decades, you dummy.

Shut up.

"You-you borrowed my Walkman. I want, uhm, I want it back," you replied, unsure.

He stopped dead in his track and blinked, stunned when hearing the phrase. He just stood there in the middle of his office, gaping. It was a nice office. Dark wooden furniture, old-fashioned— heh, old-fashioned.

"I borrowed-" he started but never finished and his hand shot up to his hair, plunging in. His mind must have been racing – he kinda looked like his mind was racing. And then it came, the realization; ding-dong, we have a winner. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her. That's... I'm gonna murder her."

He turned away from you, possibly hiding any reaction showing on his face. But his tense shoulders said it for him. You were glad his anger – slightly modified to disbelief now – shifted to someone else.

It made you relax just a bit. A bit. Also, the fact that Natasha knew him so well brought a tiny smile on your lips.

"She thought you would say that. But what would the American citizens think about you if you walked around killing your... co-workers?" you teased lightly, mentally slapping yourself right after.

What am I saying?!

His head snapped your direction at that. Yep, that's right, I said that. Insane, right? I know.

His features softened a fraction then, his eyes losing the initial anger and shock.

"How did she contact you?"