
“Time to wake up, Y/N.” Steve called out, gently rapping on your door. With a groan, you rolled over and pulled the covers over your head. Steve pushed the door open and peaked in. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the doorframe and chuckled. If there were only two things that were common knowledge around the tower, they were the facts that you were not a morning person, and that it was a bad idea to send anyone but Steve to wake you up. Your best friend only tried once, and she vowed that she’d never do that again.
“Five more minutes, Steve.” You grumbled, rolling into a ball. Steve shook his head and stepped into the room.
“I’ve given you ‘five more minutes’ four times, Y/N.” You could feel his presence at the end of the bed. He came to kneel next to your cocoon and tapped on your pillow. “Time to wake up, I have coffee.” You peaked out at him from your shell and squinted.
“Good coffee?” Steve fought a grin.
“Yes.” You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment before shaking your head and diving back under the covers.
“Five more minutes.” Steve sighed pulled himself to his feet.
“I didn’t want to have to do this, doll.” He paused to see if you’d respond. When you didn’t he moved to the foot of the bed and wrapped his hands around your ankles. Whipping the covers from over your head, you sat up and glared at him.
“You wouldn’t dare, Steven Rogers.” Steve gave you a mischievous grin and shrugged.
“Are you getting up?” Steve gave you a mischievous grin and cocked a brow. Well not now. You thought to yourself dryly, folding your arms. Scowling at him, you raised a brow in challenge.
“You wouldn’t.” Steve shrugged and began tugging on your ankles. With a squeal you rolled and grasped the head board with both hands. “Steven!” You cried, looking over your shoulder at him. Steve gave your ankles another tug, not even breaking a sweat. Huffing, you turned back to look at your hands gripping the head board. Your knuckles were turning white from the effort.
“Come on, Y/N, it’s already 10 o clock.” Steve grunted giving you another tug.
“I’m hibernating.” You called over your shoulder, doubling down on your grip on the head board. At this rate you’d be making yet another trip to the furniture store for a new one. But right now, you didn’t care. It was the principle of the thing.
“You’re not an animal, Y/N.” Steve said, dropping your legs. You rolled over and scooted up to rest your back against the head board.
“I can be whatever I want to be, Rogers.” You narrowed your eyes at him. Steve shook his head and put a knee on the bed. Your eyes widened, and you felt your whole-body tense with nervous energy. “What are you doing now, Rogers?” Your voice grew higher in pitch. Steve gave you a sly grin and placed his hand on the bed.
“I’m getting you out of this bed one way or another, sweetheart.”
“Now, Steve, darling, let’s be reasonable.” Steve chuckled and placed his other hand on the bed. You shuffled further against the head board as he crawled towards you. Without thinking you placed your foot against his forehead. Steve paused and glanced up at your foot with a raised brow. Feeling your face flush, you moved to pull your foot back only for Steve to grasp your ankle and stare at you with an amused grin. “Steven,” You narrowed your eyes at him warily. Steve’s grin widened and he sat back on his knees and looked down at the foot he held prisoner. Looking back up at you, he lightly grazed the bottom of your foot with his thumb.
“Ah.” He chuckled when your whole-body jerked. “Some one’s ticklish.” He gave you a roguish wink and set your foot back on the bed. You felt your pulse begin to increase at the wolfish shadow darkening his eyes.
“Steve,” You squealed as Steve fairly pounced on you, dragging you down so you lay on your back and he hovered over you, caging you in with his arms. His fingers ghosted over your sides, testing for sensitive points, until your traitorous body gave you away. You flinched. Steve grinned and looked up at you. His fingers tapped on your side before beginning to tickle you mercilessly. Steve Rogers was a cruel man, and you told him as much between squeals. The man wasn’t even phased as he continued his assault. “Please, Steve, I’ll get up, I’ll get up.” You cried and pushed at his hands. Steve’s fingers instantly froze and he looked down at you skeptically.
“Promise?” He cocked his head to the side and planted his hand on the bed next to your side. You shook your head rapidly.
“I promise! I promise!” Satisfied that he’d gotten his way, Steve pulled back to let you sit up. Finally noticing how much your hands hurt, you sat back against the head board and rubbed your knuckles. “You don’t love me anymore, Steve.” You grumbled, giving him a pitiful look. Steve reached out and gently took your hands in his own, rubbing small circles over the offended areas.
“I love you very much, that’s why I put in the effort that I do.” With a snort you pulled your hands out of his.
“Then love me less, Rogers.” Looking away from him was a mistake, as you found yourself flat on your back again, Steve hovering over you.
“I don’t think I can do that, Sugar.” He whispered, lacing his finger through yours and nuzzling your nose with his own.” The gesture would’ve been very romantic if at that moment you hadn’t realized you needed to pee.
“Steve.” You cleared your throat, looking up into his eyes.
“Hm?” He lowered himself to press more of his weight into you as he began paying particular attention to your neck. This only made your need for the bathroom more apparent. None too gently you began pushing at his chest. No dice.
“Steve,” Your plea turned into a moan when he reached the sensitive skin behind your ear. Taking that as a good sign, Steve focused his attack on that area. “Okay, whoa!” You reached for the only sensitive thing on him you could reach, his hair, and pulled hard.
“Hey!” He jumped back and hissed. You shoved him back and scrambled off the bed.
“I’m sorry, I love you, but I’ve got to pee!” You shouted, racing to the bathroom. Steve flopped back on the bed and rubbed the tender spot gently.
“You could’ve just said that.” He grumbled to himself. Blinking he stared up at the ceiling, not noticing the flush of the toilet or the running water. You inched back into the room and narrowed your eyes gleefully when you saw him stretched out on the bed. Quietly creeping into the room, you leapt on top of him. Steve groaned and wrapped an arm around you to keep you from rolling off and onto the floor. “Are you trying to kill me, woman? First my hair and now my ribcage!” You gave him an apologetic grin and folded your arms over his chest.
“I’m sorry. But I’m back.” You wiggled your brows and propped your chin on your arms. Steve gave you a dry look and sniffed.
“I don’t think I remember where we were.” You trailed the fingers of one hand up his chest and traced his jaw.
“I think I can jog your memory.” It was Steve’s turn to flush.