Steve Rogers Imagines

Tickles

WARNING: SMUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

It's 7.30 in the morning. You squint at the clock and blearily decide that you're never waking up this early for anything again.

You rub your eyes dozily and slide your body out from under Steve's arm, tiptoeing into the living room as quietly as you can. It's fall now – your body tenses and prickles in the brisk chill of the air, and the trees outside are awash in hues of red and orange. Your arms hug your torso and rub each other vigorously as you scan the room.

Aha. There it is.

Leaning against the utility closet door, gleaming in the morning light, is Steve's vibranium shield. You run your fingers over it, imagining the stories behind every ding, every scratch. You let your mouth fall open in wonder at the thought of what this trusty weapon symbolizes, not only to Steve, but the people of the world. Here before you sits an embodiment of what the truest, most virtuous heart on Earth stands for.

And you're going to make it disappear.

Knees bent, you delicately lift the shield from the floor and continue tiptoeing, this time towards the couch. Giggles bubble in your throat as you peel off the seat cushions, lay the disc on the couch frame and hastily cover it back up. In a split second, you're back in Steve's bed, snuggling up to him all sweet like a kitten.

Mission accomplished.

—–

"(Y/N)."

Your sleep-heavy eyes crack open to the sight of Steve looking so frantic it's as if he's about to piss his pants.

"Nnnhh." You arch in a lazy stretch and roll away from him, pulling the covers closer to your chin.

"(Y/N). Wake up." An annoyed grunt escapes you when Steve starts shaking your shoulders. "Wake up. Someone has stolen my shield."

"Wait, what?" Abruptly, you sit up, your face the world's most rehearsed impression of horror. When you get a good look at what's going on, you have to bite down hard on your lip so you don't burst out laughing. The world's most formidable super-soldier is pacing the room so fast and hard he's about to wear a trench into the floorboards. After checking every visible nook and cranny, Steve starts flinging an assortment of clothing off the floor. One especially smelly pair of boxers slaps you right in the face. You're too busy stifling a grin to care.

"Who on earth could've snuck in last night? Don't tell me I'll have to call in the team for this." Steve tensely runs his fingers through his hair, his brow furrowed.

In the meantime, you're done pretending that you're not having the time of your life. "Well, if you do, guess you'll have to sic 'em on me," you pipe up, throwing in a wink for added aggravation.

Steve's eyes narrow, then widen.

"Why you little-"

In a split second, he's on the bed, playfully wrestling you, pinning your arms down onto the bed. "Better tell me where it is, or you won't like what's coming next," Steve says, shooting you a lighthearted glare.

You giggle and squirm beneath the weight of him. "Never."

And then suddenly, his fingers are jabbing into your ribs, tickling you so hard you're about to explode. You erupt in squeals and writhe until you're practically dangling off the edge of the bed. Steve chuckles at the sight of you all disheveled and pink-faced, and raises his hands, fingers curled into cat claws.

"Had enough?"

You're panting so hard you can barely speak. "Never."

Wrong answer. A flurry of tickles assaults you all over your torso until you're almost in tears. You flail helplessly and try to grab onto Steve's hands to stop him, but you're a tiny slip of a girl and he's a two-hundred-and-twenty-pound tank who can throw a grand piano into the next century. Soon, he's pinned you down on the bed again, pressing in so close you can feel his breath on your face.

"I could do this all day." He grins, panting too. The feeling of him on top of you is driving you crazy. You give him a coy look, lean a little closer to him and kiss his lips.

Steve's breath catches in his throat. There's a pause that seems like an eternity, and then his mouth brushes against yours. Parting your lips gently with his fingers, he kisses you with a deep, animal hunger that thrills you to the bone. Steve moves from your mouth to your neck, from your neck to your breasts. You writhe and moan in pleasure as he pulls your shirt up.

"Steve." You tangle your fingers in your boyfriend's hair as his hands travel down to your panties. With a firm yank, he tugs them off and tosses them aside, looking at you with a hot glint in his eyes. The room is spinning around you, you're so limp with pleasure that when he flips you over onto your stomach you don't even make a sound. Steve chuckles and hoists your ass up, pressing his erection against you.

"When I'm done with you, you're going to wish you'd told me where my shield is." Steve's voice is thick with lust. You can't resist teasing him a little closer to the precipice and grind up against him, giggling softly.

"Bring it, captai-"

Before you even finish the sentence, he thrusts into you. Stars explode before your eyes. You grip onto the bed sheets and bite your lower lip in ecstasy as Steve pounds into you over and over again.He presses his torso to yours and reaches under you, cupping your breasts in his hands. You can feel his breath, hot and harsh against your neck, your name falling in ragged breaths from his lips. You gasp and moan his in return until the sound of your voice runs raw in your throat.

 Grabbing you by the arms, Steve lifts you up and roughly shoves you back on to the bed as you squeal with delight. He pins you down, his grip unyielding, and starts rubbing the head of his dick, all wet and slick, against your clit. Two blue eyes burn into you with blistering intensity.

"Steve-" You cry out as he plunges into you again and again. Your body arches to the roll and jerk of his hips; you squirm, writhe, tears of ecstasy pouring down your face. Steve kisses you hard and fast so you moan into his mouth, and when he comes, you come with him, the two of you losing yourself to wave after wave of obliterating pleasure.

Minutes pass with the two of you just lying there, one on top of the other. Breathless, sweaty, your heads reeling. Then you break the silence.

"The couch."

"What?"

"Your shield. It's in the couch. I hid it under the seat cushions."

Steve pulls himself upright and sits next to you, one hand cupping your cheek while he gazes at you with a mixture of fondness and amusement. "You sly minx." He raises an eyebrow. "This wasn't all some ploy to get me to fuck you now, was it?"

You smirk at him, folding your arms beneath your head. "The great Captain America, bested by a pint-sized girl in pajamas."

Steve laughs warmly and kisses you on the nose. "Only this once. I've got some great ideas about where to hide your laptop."