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

Challenge Accepted...? - Pt.1/1

Served him right.

Stupid risk-taking dumbass.

-.-.-

You peeked from behind the door opened for a crack, scanning the level of the stairwell before moving from your hideout, arms stretched with your gun raised, ready to shoot. Soundlessly approaching the middle where the handrails of opposite stairwells nearly met, only leaving a slit in between to glance through, you did a quick once-over above and below you, ears pricked up to catch the tinniest of sounds that would alert you on having any hostiles present.

Still ready to fire any second if needed, you raised your hand covered in fingerless glove to your left ear. The ampullas of tranquillizers covered in black metal reflected subtly in the flickering light of the fluorescent lamp. It was no coincidence your codename was Robin; you could easily put your enemies to sleep, bringing them the night much like the bird, Tony's invention making your job easier.

"Looks like east stairwell is clear," you announced lowly to the rest of the team.

Similar message arrived from Sam on the roof and surprisingly, it sent a chill down your spine rather than a relief to the tension in your battle-ready body.

This was not okay. A S.H.I.E.L.D. undercover operative had reported activity only few hours ago; admittedly, it had taken you some time to get here, the distance New York – middle-of-nowhere Latvia posing a tiny problem to your time management, but the team consisting of you, Sam, Steve, Nat, Tony and Clint had been on the way with minimal delay after receiving the report.

You didn't like this base empty. It tickled your spy-sense and not in a good way.

"West stairwell clear, heading to lower levels."

"Starting the extraction of files. Last log-in was 6 hours ego. It's hard to tell how much of their actual intel has been left for us," Steve announced from the server room and if your gut wasn't screaming at you that this was messed up, you would have smirked proudly at Steve's skills with technology and rubbed it in face of anyone who had ever called him a grandpa.

"Feels sloppy to leave anything behind at all. The only heat signatures I'm reading are yours. Am I the only one who find this sketchy as fuck?" Tony's voice rang from your ear and you muttered a silent 'not at all' under your breath.

"Heading to upper levels, since Clint on his way down."

"Roger that, future miss Rogers," Sam hummed over the comms and you rolled your eyes.

Poor Steve. You had been together for only few months; you were most definitely not engaged, but the rest of the Avengers kept giving Steve shit about your relationship, because a) he apparently spent months working up the courage to actually ask you out and b) you were the first girl whom he in fact was interested in to begin with after refusing like thirty different candidates from Nat (and occasionally Sam); to be fair, you couldn't but feel incredibly flattered, learning these things, but Christ, your team was full of little shits.

Must have got it from their captain then.

"Har, har. You're hilarious, Wilson," you hissed quietly and mentally slapped yourself to return your full attention to the mission. Hundred percent concentration was the key to survival.

"Cut it, Sam. Focus. Twenty percent downloaded."

"And we're hundred percent in deep shit," Clint announced, his words coming out strangled.