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

State Your Name (for the Record) - Pt.1/1

Steve closed his eyes, recalling your words from yesterday, ones that at the time fell to deaf ears.

"It wasn't your fault," you soothed him when he told you what had happened, how he had messed up and nearly got Natasha killed, which had resulted in Clint yelling at him for being incompetent for leading the team. "From what I hear, anyone would have made the same decision on their best conscience if they received the same intel – hell, this was the best option, they could have decided worse. You're a great leader. And an amazing friend. The fact you're beating yourself over something that was beyond anyone's control only proves it. Let the guilt go."

He had basked in your embrace and soothing voice, but the message you had been trying to send was not quite getting through, leaving him restless and uneasy, drowning in self-doubt and pain.

Of course, being a bioengineer, having been the one to help developing actual painkillers and anaesthetics for him, you had also basically shoved the former down his throat because of his healing broken ribs, which caused him to sleep through your alarm and wake up at shamefully late hour.

Which meant he missed you and you had already must be on your way to France for symposium of biogenetics.

As if it wasn't enough that he was questioning his yesterday's decisions, his position in the team as a leader and a person to be begin with, and his life choices overall.

Maybe Clint was right; he might have been a captain, but in a name only. He fucked up incredibly and it could have cost his dear friend her life. He wasn't what he had used to be. This century offered people much stronger, smarter and more capable than him, easily able to replace him in the position.

His gut twisted at that idea, but perhaps this could be the time he should make space for someone else and just follow orders. Hell, he never wanted to lead in the first place! Not when he had first joined the army nearly a hundred years ago.

His sigh was the only sound in the screaming silence of the bedroom and Steve pushed himself to his feet, not surprised at all that his ribs only echoed the previous pain, and shuffled to the bathroom to have a shower.

Too sleepy and cranky to notice it earlier, he only found a sticky note – possibly having been on the mirror but peeling off because of the steam from the shower – in the bathroom sink.

Unwittingly, his lips curled up in a small smile when he recognized your messy handwriting.

Morning, Stevie. Find a little thing in our kitchen :)

Not bothering to wear more than his boxers, he obediently walked to your private kitchen. You both enjoyed breakfast with the team in the communal kitchen, but there were times you wanted some privacy, revelling in the moments you could have only for yourselves.

Kitchen? Had you managed to make him breakfast? Steve wasn't hungry, his insides too tight for that, his mind too heavy, but he appreciated the gesture anyw-

He frowned when he found his laptop on the counter instead, a flash drive lying on top of it with another note. He wondered how could he not wake up with you moving around the apartment.

Please, play 'PLAY ME' video. I think it'll be worth it. xxx

Steve found himself tilting his head to side, curious and confused. He couldn't imagine you leaving something of a... dirty nature for him, knowing the mood he had been in last night and yesterday in general. Sex was usually not the best way of cheering him up in such situation. As embarrassing as it might seem, he was more of a cuddler at times like these.

Not bothering with fixing himself breakfast, debating Natasha was probably still sleeping in her bed in the med bay, he seated himself on the barstool and heard out your plea.