#instead of having to spend 98 bucks getting drunk at the bar

[isdalinarhot]

In Oathbringer flashbacks when the palace is out of violet wine/he doesn’t want Gavilar to know he’s been drinking, he instead turns to drinking in public instead of in private. This is due to a special quirk of Dalinar called “he has never paid money for booze in his life”

[bxcksdoll]

Enough

Pairings: Steve Rogers x reader

Prompts: 3# - “Please don’t walk out of that door.” 46# - “Dance with me.” 98# - “I’ve had enough.”

Summary: Steve comes home drunk again but this time you confront him about it. (This is set when Steve has long hair and a beard cause that was a mf LOOK!)

Request: Steve Roger's prompt 3 , 46 and 98 😁😁😁 go crazy 😁❤

Warnings: angst, swearing, drunk! Steve

A/N: thank you @marvelschriss for requesting this! I had great fun writing it :)))

There he was, late again. This was the fifth night in a row Steve had come home drunk (thanks to Thor and his Asguardian mead). In the last couple of months, he’d been out with the boys a lot more than usual; you felt a very distant from him.

The sound of keys knocking against the door was heard from the front of your apartment. Next, you heard the sound of two deep voices, laughing and talking.

You sat on the couch, turned sideways to face the entrance way, with your arms crossed against your chest; waiting for him.

Finally, the door creaked open to reveal two men; one supporting the other one. Your eyes didn’t have to adjust to know that it was Bucky carrying Steve. Most nights Steve would walk in either being supported by Bucky, Sam or Thor.

Thor was lucky that it wasn’t him helping tonight because, if it was, you’d make him sorry for giving Steve his infamous mead.

The pair toddled into the room, Bucky giving you a small smile and Steve giving you a lop-sided, drunken one.

“Hey, look, Buck, it’s that pretty girl I was talking about. Uh oh, why does she look mad?” Steve giggled and then, lowering his voice as much as he could in his drunken state, said, “did we do something to piss her off?”

“Yes, Steve, I’m sure we did,” Bucky replied, mouthing a small ‘sorry’ to you.

“Do you know what time it is, Stephen Grant Rogers?!” you raised your voice.

“Uh oh, she used my full name - she must be pissed,” Steve continued to giggle.

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the couch. “Thanks for bringing him home, Bucky, you can go now,” you stated, in a harsh voice.

“You’re welcome, Y/N,” Bucky smiled in an apologetic way. “Come on, Steve, let’s get you down on the couch before I go.”

Bucky began to help him over to the couch but Steve wouldn’t have it.

“I’m fine, Buck, you can go! I’m Captain fucking America - I’m able to stand up straight on my own!” he chuckled, snorting slightly.

Watching in annoyance, you nodded at Bucky to say that you had everything under control; he returned the nod and left.

After he’d gone, Steve began to stumble over to you. He tripped and almost hit the floor but you caught him just in time - keeping him upright.

“Able to stand up straight on your own, my ass,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What’d you say about your ass?” Steve giggled, for about the 100th time that night, and leaned in as he did so.

You could smell the stench of liquor on his breath; it was so intoxicating that you felt sick to your stomach. At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to push him off of you but you knew if you did he’d, most likely, hurt himself.

“Steve, your breath stinks. Please don’t lean so close to me,” you tried to breath in fresh air. Steve didn’t seem to hear you and leaned in further, brushing his lips against yours.

“Steve, come on,” you complained, trying to create some distance between the two of you - without causing him to fall over.

He, then, wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flash against him. His face was so near that you could feel his beard hairs tickling your chin.

“Steve, please stop!” you pleaded, placing a hand on his chest and trying to pull away. Instead, he held you closer to him, thinking this was some sort of game.

“Mmm, playing hard to get, are we, doll?” he whispered, in a low voice.

“No, Steve, I want you to get off me!”

“I’d advise you to stop doing this, sweetheart. You know I’m not patient when it comes to you...” he trailed, either not processing or deciding to ignore everything you said.

“I will not stop, get off of-” Steve shut you up by crashing his lips to yours, moaning as his pressed himself harder against you.

You struggled to get him off you, hitting his chest repeatedly. Finally, he gave in and let go of you.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Steve?!” you screamed, trying to catch your breath.

“I don’t know what you mean, doll,” he replied, swaying a little on his feet.

“When I say I want you to get off me - I mean it!” you tried to hold back threatening tears.

“I-I’m sorry, I thought we were just messing around,” Steve scrunched his eyebrows up.

“Messing around? I don’t mess around Steve! Especially not anymore since you come home drunk every night! I’ve had enough. Enough of your bullshit, choosing to go get wasted at the bar with the boys instead of spending time with me!” you screamed at him, leaving to go into your shared bedroom.

Steve followed quickly stumbling behind you. You grabbed a suitcase and began to look around for things you could pack.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, can I do anything?” he asked, calmly, placing his hands on your shoulders. You turned to face him and shrugged them off.

“First of all, you can stop touching me,” you warned, stepping away from him and towards your wardrobe to grab some clothes.

“What-what are you doing?” he asked, finally noticing that you were packing.

“I’m leaving; I can’t deal with this anymore, Steve. I’ve told you before that if you didn’t change how your acting recently that I’d leave. I’m leaving,” you answered, the burning sensation of tears bluring your vision slightly.

“No, baby, please don’t go,” Steve pleaded, his voice breaking.

“I have to, Steve, I don’t want to feel like a second choice.”

“You’re not a second choice!”

Shaking your head in response, you finished packing and walked passed him, back into the other room.

“No!” Steve’s voice bellowed, from behind you. As you glanced back, you witnessed him stumbling into the room, holding onto the side of the door frame for support. “Please don’t walk out of that door.”

“Steve, I’m sorry. I truly am but I hate seeing you like this. I hate that you leave me alone every night,” a tear broke free, slipping down your left cheek.

“I’ll stop; for you, I’ll stop. I promise you.” For a second, the feeling of hope spread through your chest. Steve walked towards you, holding out a hand. “Please stay, Y/N. I love you so much.”

Reluctantly, you took his hand in yours; whether you did it so he wouldn’t fall or so you could feel him, you didn’t know.

“Steve,” you gasped, looking deeply into his eyes. “I don’t believe you can keep that promise.”

Steve stepped closer, pressing the palm of his hand to your cheek and wiping away your tear with his thumb.

“I will, doll, I will,” his puppy dog eyes caused you to long to melt into his arms but you still resisted.

“At least, give me one last dance, doll, just one more?” he asked, keeping eye contact with you.

“Steve...”

“Please, Y/N. Dance with me.” he said seriously, taking your right hand in his left. You nodded your head, unable to say no to him.

Steve started to turn away, to play some music but you stopped him, not wanting him to fall down. You went over to play some music and came back to enclose Steve’s hand in yours again.

He placed his hand around your waist and pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes in a comforting way.

For a while longer, you swayed to the music wishing that this moment wouldn’t end. You knew it would have to eventually; you knew you’d have to leave.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, this made you feel like a dagger hit your heart. You loved him but couldn’t bring yourself to say it; you couldn’t bring yourself to stay with him and watch him do this to himself.