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

Homecoming

"Hi, sweety, hi!" you cooed at him, giggling as he climbed up, stretching his neck so he could lick your face, nearly chasing tears into your eyes. God, this. This made the two godawful day worth it.

Your fingers ran through the fur, scratching and stroking his back, behind his ears and it was a testimony of how much he needed to show you he loved you that rather than rolling on his back to earn himself some belly rubs, he kept licking at your face, his tail swinging wildly.

"What a good boy you are!" you continued in low voice, marvelling at how obedient he was, truly tuning down the barking and welcoming you in other ways instead. "What a sweet greeting you're giving your momma!"

"Well, we did miss you a lot," a male voice, raspy from sleep, explained, causing your smile to widen enough to nearly tear your mouth, familiar warmth spreading in your ribcage.

"We?" you echoed, your head snapping up to the figure leaning onto the wall, your breath catching in your throat.

Your felt heat rising to your cheeks, your heart skipping an excited beat.

There he was, a real-life Adonis, blond, broad-shouldered and tall, with face carved by the Gods himself. And he had apparently taken a nap on your couch while dog-sitting your buddy, because he had his left cheek red and a bit wrinkled – and still, you felt ashamed as he looked like the most beautiful human being in the stark contrast to your pathetic messy self.

It all had been Clint's fault, really. First, your neighbour – a half-retired Avenger! – had had you fall in love with his dog Lucky, encouraging you to get a pup on your own. While it could be difficult to arrange everything with your job that occasionally required short travels, he had said, there were always people to dog-sit. You were sold and brought a new four-legged friend home two days later.

Except Clint had forgotten to mention that he was off the table as a potential help, because Lucky was a special snowflake – adorable and loveable one, yes, but incredibly selfish, unable to stand another dog in his territory.

And then the goofball of a man assured that it was still not a problem, because he happened to have a friend who would be delighted to help with your Furball and even would be ecstatic to wear him out by running in the park; all of that, for free, maybe for a bit of food, because he couldn't quite get a dog of his own. You, the dumbass you were, accepted Clint's offer, because it sounded amazing.

Once again, he failed to mention an important detail. His dog-sitting volunteer was Captain America himself. You had nearly fainted when he had rung your bell at 6 am in the morning, claiming that Clint had suggested a test run (quite literally).

And yet somehow... somehow it still worked out. Furball loved Steve in an instant – because you obviously weren't the only one ready to fall to this god-like golden-haired and golden-hearted man's feet – and Steve Rogers became your regular dog-sitter.

Now, he was standing in the tiny hall in your apartment, smiling tiredly at the reunion of two desperate co-dependents, probably aware just how ready you were to faint again as he had claimed that both of them had missed you.

He didn't even have the decency to be bashful about it, the charming bastard he was.

He bounced off of the wall, slowly walking to you, extending a hand to help you up. You patted Furball's head once more and accepted, letting Steve to pull you to your feet and wrap his arm around your waist, his gaze roaming over you lovingly despite your dishevelled state.

"Well, we missed you a lot," he had said that one time about four months ago, shocking you into silence as you had simply stared at him, watching the blush creep up his neck and face at your soundless "We?" as he realized what had slipped past his lips.

He had been a lot more bashful then, stumbling over his words, frantically trying to explain— and ending up asking you (and Furball, obviously) out anyway.

Four months later, here you were, midnight approaching as Steve greeted you home, a kiss to your hair before ducking his head to kiss your lips.

"Yeah," he whispered to your mouth, his nose tenderly bumping yours, half-lidded eyes and goofy smiles. His lips caught yours again, only then breathing out the magical word. "We."

It became a ritual of yours, that little exchange. A brief heartfelt tribute to the moment of your relationship taking an unexpected turn.

Soft 'hi's were whispered, few more pecks alternating with ardent kisses lasting long enough to steal your breath, your already tired feet feeling like made of jello, your brain turned into mush with each stroke of Steve's fingers in your hair.

A whine and impatient pats on your calf signalled that your furry friend was losing patience and demanding some of the attention too. Both you and Steve chuckled to the kiss, parting and he bent lower, giving your good boy a calming scratch behind his ears, while trying to maintain eye-contact with you.

"You could have called, I'd help with the suitcase. The elevator-"

"Yeah, I noticed. Didn't want to wake you..."

Steve shook his head tenderly, touched and mentally rolling his eyes at the same time. Sometimes you treated him as if he was not a supersoldier... but you both knew he in fact enjoyed it on occasion, simply because while he loved pampering you, he appreciated to be just Steve around you.

"How was the conference, honey? How was the journey?

You huffed in annoyance, not keen on tainting the wholesome reunion with grumbling about your unappealing job.

"I'll tell you in the morning. Now I just want a shower and some snuggles if that's okay," you mumbled, your energy once again leaving your body at the memory of your draining weekend.

Steve's brows furrowed in concern, but when you attempted a lame smile, he returned it fully and planted another kiss on your forehead, caressing your arm.

"Yeah. I think we can do that," he assured you with a light squeeze to your bicep, turning to your companion as he patted his thigh and gestured for the puppy to follow. "Come on, Furball. Let's leave your momma to clean up and warm the bed for her in the meantime. Then we can give her all the snuggles she wants."

Steve glanced at you over his shoulder once more, a twinkle in his soft blue-green eyes and you felt your heart grew in size.

It felt good to be home. And coming home to a puppy and a man who could as well be a golden retriever in a human form? There was simply no other feeling like it.

You couldn't wait to snuggle them both.