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

Grease and Pearls - Pt. 2/3

Warnings: little blood, NSFW, 18+, first times... language

One more time: this chapter is friggin' MATURE y'all

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2. Boy Meets Girl

The July blended into August and love was in the air. There was no exaggeration here – that was exactly how Steve felt.

Call him a dork.

Call him a sap.

Call him an idiot.

He wouldn't care.

Two more dates had been arranged and Steve knew that he was getting way too deep, considering all the risks, considering that the relationship he had fallen into head first was doomed before it even started-- but he didn't want to think about that.

A love-struck smile was tugging on his lips as he worked on a Lincoln Mark VI Continental, a highbrow kind of car for sure, and his mind simply couldn't but wander to her.

To her exited grin as they strolled through the very gallery she had supposedly escaped to see downtown for the first time, to her teary gaze when he told her he had never got to attend an art school no matter how much he wanted to. To her dreamy expression when he drove her outside the city on what they had called 'the SHIELD bike', a Kawasaki Vulcan 750 the owner never came back for, and they spent half the night stargazing, her knowing more of stars that he had, but actually seeing them so clearly for the first time. She had been lying by his side, head resting on his arm, hand shyly caressing his other shoulder, her lips finding his cheek, his jaw, his lips every so often.

She was absolutely loveable, pure, sweet and unfairly sexy. There was no other word for it – he wouldn't call her that to her face, but with each meeting, Steve couldn't deny his very nature. He was just a guy, he was only human. And his uptown girl... well. She was a damn femme fatale or whatever people called it. The things she did to him – possibly not consciously – were fucking fatal for sure, lethal to his sanity. To put it simply, he was glad that he had sat on the bike at the front.

And as if he was projecting his dirty thoughts on the garage ceiling, Thor – one of the guys who actually gossiped like a damn old lady – opened his big fat mouth.

"So, ya' gath your dick wet yet?"

Steve's smile slipped from his face at instant as he almost choked on his fucking spit, irritation spiking at instant at such—filthy question about her. He shot up straight and whipped his head around to the other man so swiftly he nearly hit his head on the hood.

"What? No!" Steve protested loudly, way too quickly perhaps as he was caught daydreaming. "Shit, Odinson, she ain't like 'dat! She... she deserves some-"

"We all deserve some, dat's what I'm sayin'... "

Steve grabbed the nearest wrench, ready to throw it as his blood boiled—but he resisted the urge in the last second.

He knew exactly why the question bothered him. One, it was disgusting and crude to talk about his girl like that. Two: he was sporting a serious case of blue balls and jerking off was simply not doing it for him anymore.

"Shut the fuck up," he hissed, turning back to the engine.

To his surprise, the blond piece of a jerk did as Steve asked. Sadly, Pietro, Maximoff's boy, spoke up, his curiosity plucked up too.