You should have seen it coming.

Steve never fights fair—not when it comes to you.

You’re already breathless, sweat dampening your skin as you circle each other on the training mats. His blue eyes are locked onto you, sharp and assessing, but there’s something else in them—something playful. You’d argue that’s unfair, too. How are you supposed to focus when he looks at you like that?

You lunge first, aiming for his midsection, but he sidesteps easily, catching your wrist and flipping you onto your back in one swift motion. The impact knocks the air out of your lungs, and before you can recover, he’s standing over you with a teasing smirk, offering his hand.

"Did you even train last week?" he asks, shaking his head. "Because it sure doesn’t look like it—"

You don’t let him finish. Twisting his arm, you yank him down with you, using his own strength against him. He barely has time to react before you’re on top of him, straddling his back, your laughter ringing out as he groans.

"Still think I’m slacking?" you taunt, pressing your palms into his shoulders to keep him down.

Steve groans dramatically. "Alright, alright, point taken." Then, his tone turns amused. "You’re really enjoying this, huh?"

"Immensely."

Too bad your victory doesn’t last long. Before you can gloat any further, Steve moves. One second, you have the upper hand, and the next, he rolls, taking you with him. The world tilts, and you land on your back with a sharp gasp, Steve’s weight pressing you down, his hands braced on either side of your head.

His grin is downright smug. "You really thought I was gonna let you win that easily?"

You huff, pretending to be unimpressed despite your pulse hammering. "Well, you do have a habit of spoiling me."

He chuckles, leaning in slightly. "Not when it comes to this." His voice drops, teasing but firm. "I’ll always be one step ahead, sweetheart. No matter how good you get, I’ll still be better."

You tilt your head, arching a brow. "Is that so?"

He nods. "Mhm. That is so, sweetheart,"