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

If You Stumble... Pt.2/3

"Sorry," Steve murmured, releasing you so you could gather your stuff, the little purse and thin sweater, only to throw both over your shoulders hastily.

His previous words still echoed in your ears like the most beautiful song ever, your heart happily singing along. He loved you.

"No harm done. Enjoy the rest of your evening," the man wished you with a nod and Steve offered you an elbow on your way out. You accepted it, wishing to melt into him completely instead.

Only then you noticed it; was that a leather jacket on his arm? You frowned, but kept your mouth shut until you exited the building.

Steve beat you to speaking. "I hope you aren't too tired, miss. We have one more destination."

Your head snapped to him, caught off guard. Would he ever run out of surprises tonight? They had been all very pleasant, some more than others (he loved to too!), but you would be perfectly fine just going home for the night. And preferably take him with you to cuddle him to sleep. Or something else; not that he would be up for that, clearly, with his whole 'miss' thing and everything.

"We do?" you asked, curious smile on your lips.

"Yes. Don't worry, though, it's not far. Wouldn't want you to walk for long in those shoes."

God bless him.

Truth to his words, after less than five minutes you found yourself entering a cosy diner, slightly cheesy blue and pink interior with matching seats. The place was half-empty – or half-full, hard to tell – despite the late hour, a woman behind the counter instantly spotting you and following you with her gaze as Steve led you to a boot.

"After you," he beckoned to the seats, gentleman all the way.

"Thank you, Mr.Rogers."

He smirked at that, apparently content you had slid right back to your act. On the inside, you couldn't decide whether you should keep trying so hard or simply let it go and show him that you wanted his old self back; the Steve Rogers you had met was charming enough, even though you couldn't deny the appeal in meeting this one.

Given the fact it was after eleven, your usual bedtime nearing, you weren't really hungry. While Steve ordered a burger, you only went for a milkshake. Even on the first glance, you could tell it was one of the quality milkshakes, recipe from the times when people didn't count every single calorie.

"Oh, oh wow," you muttered when that thing landed in front of you together with polite 'enjoy'.

"They're good," Steve assured you with a grin, waiting for you to eat – well, drink – first. "Trust me. I made my research before taking a swell dame like you here."

You bit your lip at his words, touched and amused at the same time.

"Did you, Mr. Rogers? Do you realize that drinking this should be a crime? Especially at this hour? It's a sugar bomb." His face fell despite your playful tone and you decided not to torture him – not in a way that would make him feel miserable anyway. "And I'm gonna enjoy every single drop of that."

You took the straw between your lips, giving an experimental suck, meeting his gaze that seemed to be locked on you.

Heaven exploded in your mouth. Yeah, screw this, you deserved some sugar after all the heavy work you had done on the dance floor. You might have moaned a little at the sweet taste, because Steve's eyes darkened, his tongue darting to lick his lips. You fought a smirk, confident you had a pretty good idea of what crossed his mind when seeing you like this.