Limerence (Steve Rogers x Male Reader)

High On Your Love

Thoughts ran wild in your head, as if someone had pulled a plug on it or something. Some thoughts shouted, some purred. But one thought lurked in the dark. You acknowledged it but doubted its feasibility. You closed your eyes and saw the thought in its abstract form. It had Steve's essence, something poisonous.

But if dealt with carefully, the poison seemed a promising weapon. Anyway, how hard would it be to strangle Steve in his own game?

You sighed as you sat down on the cold floor of the roof, letting the thoughts run through you. The more you let them go, the less they hurt. You sat there for sometime before deciding to get up and to bed finally. You had just gotten up when the elevator in the lobby pinged, drawing your attention. You were curious to see who it was but didn't want to be seen so you jogged towards the entry of the lobby and hid in the side space next to the door that opened to the roof. 

A shiver went down your spine upon realizing who it was. Suddenly, this minuscule thing wasn't fun and intriguing anymore. It was terrifying and nerve-racking. And realizing those things only made you feel worse about yourself. It was Steve. You were scared of man, of another person. Steve wasn't just another person, of course, but still being afraid of someone you could've taken out years ago brought down your conscience in seconds.

You wanted to run away, he had just walked out to the roof and his back was towards the Lobby. There was a huge chance that if you ran for it, he either wouldn't know anyone was even there or even if he did notice, he wouldn't know it was you.

But no, you were done running. Especially from that person. 

And if you were to be honest, you pretty much were still curious about what could possibly bring Steve to the roof this late at night. Was it in his routine now? Or was tonight different? Not that you thought about, you did remember seeing bags under his eyes at the hearing. He hadn't exactly been sleeping so this could possibly be a part of his routine.

Steve walked to the very edge of the roof and looked down at the city lights and the still moving traffic on the lanes of New York city. He pulled out something from his pocket and upon seeing the luminescent flame, you noticed that he had just lit up a cigarette. You furrowed your brows, Steve had started smoking? You distinctively remember Steve being against it. And why would he do it anyway? It wouldn't exactly do much of anything to his body.

You almost flinched when Steve held the cig in his left hand and punched the boundary wall with his right fist. It sent vibrations down to where you were standing and left a big crack the stretched across the whole wall. Steve was breathing so hard now that you could see his back inflating and relaxing as he heaved in the dark. Was he... crying? You didn't know, and a part of you didn't want to either.

"No!" Steve yelled into the night sky, his voice breaking. It was coarse and husky, confirming your thoughts. He really was crying. He crouched down until his knees dropped to the ground and he sat down with his back resting on the wall he had just punched. "No..." He said once more, this time as low as a whisper. He put the cigarette to his lips once more and took a drag. 

As your eyes adjusted a bit more comfortably and you began to see a little clearer, you saw the unusual shape of the cigarette. No... it couldn't be, you said to yourself. It wasn't a cigarette, no. It was a joint? It was shocking, agreed. But after seeing the things you saw him doing, this didn't really surprise you. 

But the question wasn't if the whole drug thing aligned with Captain America's moral conscience or not, no, the question that was splitting your mind in half was that had this all been because of you? Because you left?

You felt sick. You didn't want to be here, not tonight. You knew how it was affecting you now was bad enough already, you didn't want to imagine how feeling bad for Steve would do to your hearing tomorrow. You slowly moved out from where you were standing and made it for the lobby but the door made a noise. Feeling your heart drop, you turned around to see if Steve had heard it or not, which he had. Just as you turned, Steve was standing behind you. His face was inches away from yours and you could see it clearly now. He really was crying. 

"You're not supposed to be here." Steve said. You could hear the disgust and anger in his voice. 

"N-Neither are you." You said, trying to keep your voice steady but your eyes failed to match his. You focused on the hem of his shirt again. 

Steve scoffed. "You don't own the building, Y/N. You don't get to own everything."

"Well, neither do you. Nor do you own the wall you just left a huge crack in." you said, suddenly finding it easier to speak without having to look into his eyes. 

"I'll pay him." he said. You hadn't realised that Steve was getting closer by the second until his you could smell the strange effluvium in his breaths. "I've got a lot of money now. All thanks to you, Y/N."

"Wh-"

"You're one of a kind, sweetheart." He whispered. You could hear the effect of whatever it was that he had been smoking in his voice, and in his words. Whatever it was, it wasn't like anything on the market. "A lot of people out there pay to watch you get fucked and toyed around... a lot of people with a lot of money." You couldn't make sense of what he was saying, none of it made sense. 

"Wh-What did you mean I don't own everything?" You said, changing the topic. Your voice trembled again, badly this time. You could barely speak the words as they left your mouth, "What do I own anyway? Shame, guilt, trauma and burdens of your insecurities?"

Steve chuckled, making you close your eyes in fright. "Well, you won me. Didn't you?" Steve said in an innocent happy tone. You opened your eyes to see him shaking his head. "No, Y/N. You weren't supposed to do that. You weren't supposed to take me."

"Is that why you punched the wall? Because you think I still own you?

Without a warning, Steve grabbed your hand and pushed it onto his crotch. His face was almost in the crevice of your neck as his you felt his breaths on your skin. "How long have you been here, watching me?" He asked as his nose brushed along your neck now. "Been touching yourself?" He rubbed your hand along his hard length over his pants. "Come on, Y/N. What's it going to be this time? Boy, have I dreamt of that ass. Just-"

You couldn't take it anymore. You somehow found the strength in you to push Steve away hard enough to getaway. You ran for the lobby. Steve hadn't followed you, but you could hear his sinister laughter from outside. You ran to the nearest elevator and hit the down button. As the doors opened, you got in and pressed the button to your floor. When you looked up, Steve was standing just in front of you. He wasn't entering, his eyes were on the button panel in the elevator. 

"43rd, huh?" Steve grinned as he saw the number you had pressed. The doors finally closed and the elevator moved down.

~A/N~

Hello! Since a lot of you seemed interested in my new horror fiction, I decided to finally write and post it. Go check it out, it's called "The Orison".

Hope you liked this chapter. A lot of shit is about to go down. Y'all ain't even ready. :)