#i should go to bed this took so much brain capital to formulate

[this-should-do]

Before i get into everything, I want to preface this with the fact that I wrote this in one sitting starting at 9 and ending at 1:40. It is long (so very long, approx. 2.2k words) and rambling, it is largely unedited except for spelling and grammar and I refuse to read it over, and my eyes are burning. @portal2divorce , I hope this is what you wanted when you left that looking emoji on the post where i mentioned wanting to write about my thoughts on barney and his relationship with gordon and how it changes after the rescas and hl2.

Anyways barney is a bitter old man who I want to learn to be a little less bitter and heal in the end because, if I may borrow phrasing from that one captain America/bucky fic I’m sure were all vaguely familiar with, these fuckers deserve a softer epilogue.

I will also be putting this under a read more becuz i remember that those exist now and im on the web instead of mobile rn becuz i wrote this all in word cuz i knew it was gonna be so long, so i can do that

So firstly, before we can address how the rescas changes barney’s relationship with Gordon, its important to just clarify that I feel that barney and Gordon were very close, whether as friends or as romantic partners, doesn’t matter which, what’s important is that they were so very close.

And with that clarified we can get into post-rescas stuff which will be helpfully separated into pre and post hl2

Pre-hl2:

So, the first time that barney has to deal with Gordon’s death is, as I’m sure were all aware, when he sees the military dragging Gordon at the end of blue shift, so he get to start the grieving process soon after that as he’s escapes black mesa soon after that. And he gets to go through the early stages of grief for the next few weeks, at which point I think he meets up with Kleiner, (who I have come to headcanon as managing to make it to the lambda labs before Gordon got there), who informs barney of the last time he saw Gordon, which for a few seconds gives barney hope that Gordon’s still alive before being smacked in the face with the fact that Gordon hasn’t been seen since. This starts his grieving process all over again, despite Kleiner trying to comfort him with the idea that Gordon hasn’t been confirmed to be dead (I also feel that Kleiner never truly makes it past the denial stage of grieving Gordon, which later becomes a point of contention between barney and Kleiner.)

As the years go on, but before Gordon truly becomes the semi-mythological figure who’s prophesied to come back, barney ends up spending most of his time bouncing between depression and anger about Gordon disappearing. Depressed that he couldn’t help Gordon (even though it was out of his control,) that Gordon presumably sacrificed himself to save the world, and just depressed that Gordon’s gone, his best friend (and possibly partner if you are fond of that ship) is gone. But he’s also angry that the world took Gordon away, that the other scientists (and Kleiner) sent him alone to certain death and they (Kleiner) won’t even admit that’s what they did, that they were too cowardly to even try to help him in the border world.

Eventually his anger ends up mutating and turns to Gordon. He’s angry that Gordon supposedly did all these great things but couldn’t even be bothered to come home, to come back to barney. He’s angry at Gordon for letting barney think he was dead when he saw him before escaping black mesa. He’s angry that Gordon made himself such a staple in barney’s life and had the gall to just disappear and not even have the courtesy to confirm that he’s dead, even though barney knows for sure that he’s dead, because he knows Gordon would come back if he could. He’s angry at Gordon even though he knows its unfair to expect al these things from Gordon, who he knows is just a person who was expected to save the world by himself but still managed to do so. Gordon was the victim, he shouldn’t be angry at him, but he wasn’t sure who to be angry with. The world wasn’t some conscious being. He couldn’t continue to blame fate. And even though he was angry at Kleiner for having sent Gordon to do that with such unrealistic expectations, he didn’t have room to talk when he expected Gordon to be able to come back from there. All that he had was to be angry at Gordon who was at the center of it all, he was the one who had ended the world and saved it, saved everyone but himself, and then ended the world all over again by not doing so. At least to barney.

Eventually barney stops being angry, and learns to live with the depression, which can’t really go away given the worlds state, and he’s almost ready to fully accept Gordon’s death. But its by this point that Gordon’s starting to have a mythos around him and have a Jesus second coming type prophesy courtesy of the vortigaunts. And he’s angry again. Angry that the world just won’t let Gordon rest, he already died for everyone once and now they want him to come back and do it all over again. They barely even recognize that he’s a person, almost exclusively referring to Gordon as Freeman; Freeman who killed and killed and saved and killed again. Freeman who didn’t really die, he’s just off somewhere else. He certainly tried his best to humanize Gordon, he tells stories about every stupid human thing Gordon ever did. It never really works though, the stories just further the mythos add fuel to the flames. He also tried to express his disbelief that Gordons dead, and he’s not going to come back, but nobody believes him and it makes them upset. He learns to leave it be, even if it hurts to hear it all, its not his right to try to take away others hope.

After years of hearing people talk about Gordon coming back he almost hopes its true. He tried to stamp down that hope before it can hurt him when it never comes reality. It never really works but he’s also realistic that it won’t happen, but it’s a nice thought. He knows Gordon’s dead and has accepted it. He can go long periods of time without truly thinking about Gordon now, even if when he does it’s through a rose-tinted lens, he barely remembers how Gordon really was, only that he was good and kind, forgetting how standoffish and frustratingly stubborn he could be, and forgets how rough every flaw Gordon ever had could be. It was all smoothened by time and distilled into the perfect memory of a time before the combine. He’s glad Gordon’s gone and that he doesn’t have to experience the world as it is now. But he’s also still so bitter about what happened to him, its just softer now and he can’t afford constantly thinking about it while he’s working as a spy in the CP.

Post HL2:

Gordon shows up at the station and barney thinks he’s finally snapped after over a decade of being a spy for the resistance and 2 decades of combine occupation. Disregarding the canon first meeting because it feels unrealistic, barney is in a major crisis, though he’s desperately trying to hold it together to get Gordon to Kleiner’s. He is suddenly being faced with Gordon who he knew was dead because he didn’t come back, but is now back, meaning he wasn’t dead and he chose to stay away. Barney is so angry, even though he tried at first to be funny and laidback, because that’s who he is. It doesn’t end up working and he snaps at Gordon when he doesn’t respond after barney “casually” asks where he’s been and for the general lack of communication. After Gordon goes off barney is left to grapple with Gordon being alive by himself. He is certainly relieved that Gordon is back, he can’t deny that, but he is so angry that Gordon’s back. He s angry because it means that Gordon could have been back this whole time and he grieved and mourned for nothing. And that to barney, Gordon chose not to come back to him, and his pain and suffering is Gordon’s thought. He’s also mad that Gordon is here to experience the combine and is now being forced (by his own hand this time too) to kill and kill and kill and save the world again, after all these years of barney being mad that people wanted that from Gordon, he’s forcing Gordon to do the same thing the people wanted this whole time.

And throughout hl2 barney also has to face multiple instances where he thinks Gordon is dead or going to die (teleporter malfunction at Kleiner’s, weeklong absence after nova prospect, and the explosion of the citadel) as well as the constant anxiety around what Gordon’s mission is and what he’s doing. Barney is constantly facing the abyss of starting the mourning process over and over again. Its constantly starting and stopping and is constantly building potential energy the longer Gordon’s around to reacclimate to.

Also ignoring the fast-paced plot of hl2, barney also gets more time to interact with Gordon, particularly once the rebellion starts. So, he’s forced to see Gordon as he is, with preexisting flaws and un-niceties, compounded with what is now weeks of trauma. Its jarring and hard to reconcile the Gordon he remembers and the Gordon standing in front of him. He never gets the time to truly be close to Gordon at this point, in fact Gordon seems resistant to anyone being close to him. He hurt by this and feels mor bitter and angry at Gordon than he did before. HE stops trying to be familiar with Gordon and falls back to his impersonal and pseudo-familiar persona he used for the many, many people he’d met in the resistance that he expected to die so it would hurt less when they did. It wasn’t that he expected Gordon to die (except he did if he were being honest) but it’s easier to deal with still not having Gordon back even if he could touch him.

He feels closer to a memory of Gordon than he did the real Gordon and he wasn’t sure how to bridge the gap that existed and wasn’t sure that he’d ever have to time to learn. He almost doesn’t want to be close to Gordon anymore; he’d already mourned him it wasn’t fair that he’d have to start all over again and it wasn’t fair that Gordon, who didn’t look a day older than he did before the resonance cascade, didn’t even seem to want to know him and it made him angry all over again. But he does want to know Gordon again, and he knows deep down that Gordon just doesn’t have the mental space to be a person right now, he was hardly sociable before, but now… he had to be something else that couldn’t remember how to do anything but survive, and neither could barney. They were in a warzone, the most anyone could truly afford to live as people was in the dark of night when only distant gunfire could be heard, and everyone has to be okay with that. For now, barney would try his best to remember that Gordon is a person being forced to live as an icon of a better future and expected to be a martyr if need be, and that he’s not a faded memory of a better time to be used as a small piece of relief in a world of suffering. For now, barney would make do with understanding Gordon as a battle partner, someone he could trust with his life and return the favor in turn and settling for only brief looks behind the curtain when no one else can see them.

Post good ending hl3 where everyone lives and everything is as okay as it can be where a future is attainable:

It takes barney months to completely work through the bitterness and anger he still feels towards Gordon for the abandonment, but it’s easier after Gordon explains what happened. He also has to grapple with the fact that Gordon is alive at all, everyday he wakes up and forgets that Gordon is there and then is suddenly faced with reality. It’s difficult to process. Though once things calm down properly, its almost easy to fall back into familiar rhythms from black mesa, thought of course new one had to be made and some old ones adjusted to accommodate for both their sakes. But barney struggles to truly bare himself to Gordon (who struggles to do the same.) they could function in a pseudo familiarity but truly getting close is difficult. It’s hard for barney to truly be vulnerable again, always fearing Gordon will somehow be ripped away again, and scared that showing that he cares for someone puts them in danger from the long gone combine. It takes at a year at the bare minimum to properly and fully reach a equivalent level of emotional closeness to black mesa, frankly they eventually reach a state closer than before, built on shared life threatening experiences during the weeks of warfare and the gentle understanding of the resulting trauma, reflecting on their shared life before, and looking forward to a future.

#anyways hope this is intelligible in anyway at all #im sure some of it communicated badly or that ill change my mind about how it works at sum point down the line but #who cares im developing characters and writing it down makes it more real and it is so much more fun that way than just letting it sit in #my brain festering until it is swept away and im left with nothing and no solid interpretation of the characters i so adore #iwillspeakincessantly #im sure ill end up tightening the chracterization too down the line #sometimes he feels a lil inconsistant when i was trying to add dualities of thoughts but this aint susmmin spose tobe proper #its brain dump and if yallre gonna read this mess ur gonna get what u get lol #i should go to bed this took so much brain capital to formulate #also almsot done witht he coward guard comic only like 2 pages and a few stray panels to color #goodnight yall im tired as fuck lmaoooo #ponderingradioactivedecay

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

kiss me in the d-a-r-k .epilogue.

november

masterlist

Warnings: dub con sex (oral, intercourse)

This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is back at school but her wild summer can’t be forgotten.

Note: Um, did I do this? Like did I just write this and is it going to be more than one part? I just...okay, well, this is where life is taking me right now so here ya go! I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply!

...

Everything was different and yet the same. No more English Lit, you were a Journalism major working hard towards your lifelong dream of typing for a living. Of capitalizing on the frustration of a blinking cursor as you tried to formulate a hook. After a summer of working weddings and overzealous parties, you were ready to hunker back down in your bookish university life.

Despite your shift in focus, Kylie was still very much a cornerstone of your campus life. You saw each other once a week, if you were lucky, twice. She messaged you almost daily, still grieving Taylor’s enlistment. You studied together and when you were particularly exasperated with her nagging, you let her drag you to one of her extracurricular get-togethers. 

You’d changed too. Still very much the honours student but a little less uptight. And you had a secret. A very big secret. One Kylie could never know. 

She had guessed, at least half of it. It didn’t take her much to catch on that you had finally taken the plunge. You’d finally lost your virginity. You weren’t sure if the sway of your hips had changed or your head was held a little higher, but she had guessed on your first day back in September. 

She’d beamed and bugged you for details. You were cautiously vague upon your recounting. She could never know that it had been with her own dad. You could only imagine her reaction. Never anything less than impulsive and dramatic, you knew the revelation would ensure the end of your friendship. And as one-sided as your relationship could be, it was preferable to being alone on campus.

As your communications class ended, you packed up along with the rest of the lecture hall. You were near the front as always. You folded up the small desk and shoved your books in your bag. You pulled on your harvest orange jacket as you glanced up to the front. Professor Barnes leaned on his desk as he talked with another student.

You hooked your bag over your shoulder and checked your phone as you descended the stairs to the front. Kylie’s message flashed in your vision and you swore. It had totally slipped your mind. Oh well, she could wait a couple minutes.

You neared the desk in the corner where the professor chattered with others and packed up his papers. You waited patiently as you looked up at the blank projection screen. Finally, you stepped up as the conversation ended and smiled up at him. His dark hair was limned with strands of silver, his blue eyes shone as he glanced over at you. You could have swooned, even if he was twenty years older than you. Hell, that hadn’t stopped you before.

“I wanted to sign up for that workshop,” You declared without greeting. Your nerves forced the words from your brain. “I have the form.”

You let your bag fall to your elbow and reached in to fish out the folded paper. You held it out to him and your cheek twitched as your smile threatened to fall.

“Great,” He took the form and placed it on top of the pile of essays. “I’m glad you’ve decided to do it. It will be a great experience, and seeing as you’re making up for lost time, it’ll help with that too.”

“Thanks,” You beamed. “I...I’m excited.”

He smiled and closed the folder over the papers and tucked them away. He rounded the desk as the last of the students filtered out the door. “Me, too. Your work is exceptional and I can only see it getting better.” He walked slowly towards the door beside you as he juggled his bag and pulled on his dark jacket. “Keep it up and you’ll be teaching this class in a few years. Or better, I might just see your name in the New Yorker.”

You giggled but killed it before it could turn pathetic. You preceded him into the hall as he waited for you to go ahead and he closed the door behind him. “Thanks, Professor.”

“I mean it,” He replied. “I made sure they approved your transfer. You had no place wasting away in Lit.” You smiled wider and he peeked over his shoulder and then at his watch. “Well, I’ll see you at the workshop. Monday morning.” He said. “Alas, I have a Friday night of marking to keep me company and no desire to leave it ‘til Saturday.”

“Okay, thank you, Professor,” You retreated as he turned halfway to head in the opposite direction. “Really. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Have a good night,” He winked and turned to stride down the hall as you mumbled your response. 

You watched him go and grasped the handle of your bag tightly. Shit. Okay. Stop. He was your professor. You shouldn’t make your questionable decisions a habit. Had you not learned last summer?

-

When you got to Kylie’s, you had to buzz twice. The dormitory door stuck and you barely managed to wrench it open before the lock clicked back in place. Your hands and face felt raw from the autumn wind as you climbed the stairs and the stuffy building smothered you. You knocked on her door; three other girls shared her flat and you could hear voices from within.

Marlo opened the door as she giggled to the girls in the kitchen to the right of her. She waved you in. You were there enough that they knew you by now. Shae stood in the doorway to the kitchen and they looked at each other knowingly.

“Hey,” Marlo finally stifled her scandalous trill. “Kylie’s just in her room…” She looked once more to Shae, “She’s got a visitor.”

Shae snickered. “Oh yes, her dad’s been lecturing her for twenty minutes... though I’d listen to any lecture he had for me.”

“Oh, yes, daddy,” Marlo returned. “Makes all these fratboys look like children.”

“Her dad?” Your face and heart fell. You peered down the hall to her door. It was open and you heard his voice. It was definitely him. “Maybe I should come back.”

“Nah, it’s fine, she’s tryna get him out ASAP as it is. She has a date with that Tristan guy.” Marlo mused.

“I thought his name was Troy.” Shae intoned.

“Whatever,” Marlo shrugged and nodded down the hall. “Go on and save her.”

The hallways seemed to get longer as you looked down the blue and grey carpet. The girls retreated back to the kitchen, the clink of glass jolted you. You slowly stepped forward and as you got closer you heard both Kylie and Steve. Steady, pleasant. They must’ve worked through whatever issue Steve had tucked in his back pocket.

You gulped and stepped up to the half-open door and knocked on it. They looked over in unison. For a moment the resemblance was stunning but faded away in an instant. Steve’s lips formed a crooked smirk and Kylie greeted you with her usual snarky brow.

“About time,” She crossed her arms.

“Class.” You returned sharply and reached into your bag. “Mind the state of it but here you go.”

You handed her your worn copy of Wuthering Heights and she took it with indifference and tossed it on her bed. 

“Hey,” Steve greeted, a hand on his hip as he flagrantly looked you up and down. “How’s it going?”

“Fine. Studying, you know.” You answered shortly as Kylie swiped up her phone.

“Dad, oh my god, are you staying here all night?” She whined as she looked up.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get out of your hair, just figured I’d check in while I was in the area,” Steve shook his head. “She thinks I don’t know but she’s got a boy coming over.”

“Dad!” Kylie fumed and lowered her phone.

“I’ll just be on my way too.” You assured her. “Midterms coming up.”

“Need a ride?” Steve offered swiftly. You glanced at Kylie but she didn’t seem to notice her father’s deft reply.

“I have a bus pass,” You said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Ah, let me drive you,” He insisted. “I miss the city.”

“Fine,” You accepted and Kylie was already back in her dms. 

“Okay, you guys, be safe,” She sat on the edge of her bed, “Love ya, dad.”

You lifted your brows and silently cursed her oblivion. You dared to look at Steve and he smiled triumphantly. In Kylie’s mind you’d already left so you turned and swept out the door. Easier to argue with him outside. He followed and you caught a glimpse of Marlo and Shae peeking out the kitchen as you opened the door. They gushed at the sight of Steve as he disappeared into the hall with you.

“I really don’t need a ride.” You sighed. “I appreciate the offer though.”

“Oh, come on, why are you being so cold? I know it’s been a while but...well...I missed you.” He descended the stairs behind you. “Didn’t expect to see you but I’m visiting and I can’t help but check up on Kylie.”

“I…” You turned down the next flight and huffed. “I just wanna forget about whatever it was that happened in the summer, okay? Kylie’s my friend and if she found out--”

“If she was gonna find out, she would’ve by now,” He caught your arm as you made to turn again and he pushed you up against the wall. “She won’t know. It’s fine. It was all very...natural. Didn’t it feel right?”

You looked away. Your face burned as you thought about that last night. The things you’d done with him. The sheer pleasure of his touch. The epiphany of the savage physicality. Those scene’s you had replayed in your head, and not just with him, though it had only been a reality with him.

“Steve--”

“Is there a boy? Hmm? It doesn’t bother me. You should explore your sexuality.” He cradled your face and ran his thumb over your chin. “Use what I taught you.”

“Stop.” You caught his hand. “We can’t--”

He smirked again. “So there hasn’t been anyone else.”

“No,” You answered the statement. He knew. He always read you so well. “Okay.”

He considered you for a moment. “But you’ve thought about it? About others?”

You lowered your head in defeat. He didn’t need your confirmation; he knew that too.

“So...you wanna come see my suite? It’s a nice hotel...balcony, hot tub, great view...better with you.” His breath was hot as he leaned in and you finally looked up at him.

“Goddamn it.” You cursed him just before he pressed his lips to yours.

-

The guilt wasn't enough to change your mind once your surrender was given. Why should you feel bad anyway? Kylie always ditched you for guys and she'd never know. And so it couldn't hurt her.

Steve's hand kept you distracted from your second thoughts. He gripped your thigh as he drove as he steered with one hand. You were the same nervous girl, this time barely more than a virgin. One night hadn't been enough to dissolve your natural timidity. One night could never be enough.

You stared at his fingers and your heart stuttered. You thought of all the ways he had touched you; the ways he had yet to touch you. Shit, what were you doing? Had you not promised yourself it was a one time thing? Was Kylie not your friend? Steve not her father?

The world blurred with your doubts and soon you followed Steve through the front doors of upscale hotel. Surely the man in his pressed suit didn't belong with the bookish student. Someone was bound to notice you. But this was New York and people didn't care about others or their scandals; not without a touch of fame.

"Wait, why are you in the city anyway?" You asked as the elevator doors shut.

"I got a friend down here. I had some business down this way and he asked me to hang around for a few days so we could catch up." He slipped his arm around you. "And of course I thought of you. The chance we might run into each other again."

"Oh," You said dumbly. You stepped off the elevator and he led you to a door at the end of the hall. "I...I don't know if I can do this."

"Fair enough but tell me something." He stopped and drew his arm away from your shoulders. "Did I hurt you last time? Did you not enjoy it? What is so wrong about us?"

You turned to him and searched his face. You shrugged, speechless.

"It's just sex. Whatever the circumstances, we're not doing anything wrong. We're two adults, we're attracted to each other. That's all it needs to be." He took out his room key and flicked the card with his finger. "So, you coming in?"

You looked at the door and swallowed. If you said no, you'd have to find your way home from there. You doubted he intended to drive you anywhere if you refused. Regardless, you couldn't deny the longing deep inside. These doubts were a poor mask for your real desires.

He unlocked his door and again waited for you to enter first. His suite was bigger than the boxy apartment you’d leased off-campus. He closed the door behind him as he followed you inside. You kept your distance and crossed to the large windows that overlooked the blinking and blaring city. You stared down at the distant streets as he moved around behind you.

“You gonna stay a while?” He teased and you turned to look at him as he removed his jacket and then his finely tailored blazer. You slowly unbuttoned your peacoat as he knelt to open the minifridge. “You wanna drink? Maybe it’ll help you relax.”

“I am relaxed,” The squeak in your voice was wholly unconvincing. He smiled and pulled out a small bottle of wine. 

“Sure,” He crossed to the small kitchenette and pulled out two wineglasses. He emptied the bottle into both. “So, you got into journalism after all?”

He took both glasses and neared you. He handed you one as he sipped from the other.

“Yeah. It’s...better,” You smelled the dry wine before you tasted it. “Not so repetitive.”

“Mmm,” He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed the empty space beside him. You sat tentatively and nursed your wine. “That’s good.”

His hand crawled over to your thigh and he drained the last of his wine. You stared at yours as he squeezed and you downed it as quickly as you could to still the nerves whirring in your stomach. You almost choked as you did and he removed his hand to take your empty glass. He stood and placed them on the small table on the other end of the room.

“So...anything in particular you wanted to try?” He smirked as he turned back to you. 

You shook your head shyly as the wine gathered warmly in your cheeks. He chuckled as he resumed his place next to you. He cradled your face as he turned to you and leaned in. 

“You’re so sweet.” He kissed you and you let him. He pulled away for a moment and rubbed the tip of his nose against yours. “I haven’t stopped thinking of you. I can’t stop…”

“Steve,” You warned and he pecked your lips again.

“I’m not being sentimental,” He breathed, “I think about you when I’m alone. Horny. I imagine you’re there with me...do you think of me?”

You lowered your lashes tellingly. He chuckled and kissed you again. His tongue pushed past your lips as he devoured you and his hand explored the curves of breast and stomach. You forgot about your reluctance. Forgot about the guilt. About Kylie and what she would think. He was right, she’d never know.

He finally pulled away, his blue eyes dilated and hungry. “I want you naked.” He rasped. “Then I want you to undress me.” His hand hovered just along your waist. “Can you do that, sweetie?”

You pulled your wool sweater over your head as you stood. The wine swirled your vision. A single glass and you were tipsy already. You should’ve eaten before class. You turned to him as you untangled yourself from the wool and revealed the slouchy tee hidden beneath. He smiled up at you and took the sweater. He rubbed it between his thumbs before tossing it away.

You knelt awkwardly as you untied your boots and set them aside. How very unsexy it was as you balled your socks up together. He kicked off his shoes too and you focused on your task. You tore your tee off as you turned back to him and his eyes never left you; they clung to your hands as you worked at the layers. Admired the plain grey bra that cupped your tits despite its fraying straps.

You pulled down your jeans and he hummed in delight. The front of his pants twitched and he leaned back on his hands as he watched. As you stood, your tits threatened to spill out. You unhooked your bra and dropped it behind you and tucked your thumbs under your panties, drawing forth the last of your courage.

“Sweetie, I just don’t know how you don’t have the boys lined up,” He purred. “Look at you.”

You couldn’t help your smile. You rolled your panties down and kicked them away. As you stood up straight, he rose and stepped closer. His fingers grazed the bare skin along your hip. 

“My turn,” He intoned.

You reached up, almost without thinking, and your fingers clumsily worked at his buttons. You pulled the hem free of his pants and when it was entirely loose you pushed it down his broad shoulders. He let you as he watched silently. You looked up at him and realized you were chewing your lip anxiously. You stopped yourself and he admired your lips.

“Keep going,” He urged.

You freed him of the expensive shirt and let it crumple on the floor. You unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his fly swiftly, yoyouru fingers working more deftly as the tickle stirred between your legs. You pushed his pants down his thick legs. Twice your age and in better shape, you marvelled. 

He stepped out of the trousers and your hand absently grazed his bulge. You gasped and he shivered at your touch. You peeked up at him as you grasped the elastic of his briefs. He grinned and nodded. You bit your lip again and he reached up to drag his thumb along it. You tugged his briefs down and slowly lowered your eyes as you uncovered his cock. 

You backed away and took in the whole of him. What were you doing?

He sat down on the bed again and his cock bobbed against his stomach. He beckoned you closer with two fingers and he fell onto his back. “Get up here,” He tapped his chest.

“What?” You crawled up beside him.

“Here,” He repeated. “I’ve been dying to taste you again.”

You blanched. You were unsure. Last time, he had been in control. You’d been on your back and his face was buried between your thighs. You just had to lay there; let your instincts take over. You shakily climbed up the mattress and looked over at him as he licked his lips.

He helped you as you carefully positioned yourself over him, your knees on either side of his head. It was awkward for you. His eyes clung to your pussy and he pulled you down impatiently. His tongue delved along your folds and you squeaked in surprise. 

He flicked along your clit and back down as he drank you in. You relaxed as he lapped at you and his hands snaked around your thighs. He kneaded them and suckled on your clit as the electricity gathered in a pinpoint. You moaned and arched your back as you longed for more. He tended to you more fervently and groaned. 

You spread your fingers over his golden hair and leaned into him. The currents travelled along your back and thighs as your breath hitched. You were soon grinding against his face as you felt your orgasm mounting. You threw your head back and let out a long moan as you came, your entire being shook at the sudden waves of ecstasy. His fingertips pressed into your thighs and he hummed in delight below you.

Your hips twitched one last time and you glanced down at him. You lifted yourself on your knees as you blinked at him numbly. “Are you okay?” You gasped.

“I’m in heaven,” He assured you as he drew circles along the back of your thighs. He slipped a hand down and you looked back as he gripped his cock. “Move back. I can’t wait any longer.”

Your lips parted; breathless, stunned. Your body worked without your consent. Like it wasn’t yours at all but his to play with as he would. You lowered yourself over him and his cock brushed against your wet pussy. He shuddered and wiped his glistening lips as he watched you intently.

You reached beneath you and stroked him. His eyes widened in surprised delight. You angled him towards your entrance. Your muscles tensed hungrily as his tip pressed against you. You sank onto him slowly and held your breath. It wasn’t so painful as the first time. Of course, after your first time, it had been much easier. He had fucked you until it was too easy.

As he bottomed out you let out an airy moan and he echoed you. He reached up to play with your tits, his thumbs circled your nipples as his eyes roved the rest of your body. “Fuck, your still so fucking tight.” He pushed your tits together and moaned again.

You rocked your hips carefully. You relished the feel of him. The fullness. You hadn’t realized how much you’d wanted to feel it again. His hands fell to your hips and he guided you. Steady, slow. He watched your pussy move along his cock and his eyes darkened with unadulturated lust. You pressed your palms to his chest and sped up just a little. Your clit rubbed deliciously against him.

“Oh, sweetie,” He purred. “I fucking missed this.”

He took your hands and pulled them over his shoulders as he sat up. You hooked your arms around him as he grabbed your ass and led your motion. You bounced in his lap, the friction between your sweaty bodies seared your flesh. You panted as he guided you faster and faster. He plunged into you over and over and your walls clung to him.

A pathetic stream of moans and groans escaped you as you felt the bloom again. You hugged him tighter and he bowed his head to nibble at your tits. You quaked as you came harder than before. He pulled his head away and grabbed the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours again.

He parted and whispered against your skin. “I’m gonna cum, sweetie. Can I cum on your tits?”

You nodded and he tapped your ass. You climbed off of him and knelt before him as his breaths were interspersed with heady groans. 

“Help me, sweetie.” 

He took your hand and wrapped your fingers around his cock. He led your first stroke than let go. He watched as your hand glided up and down his length and he clutched the blankets beneath him as he grunted. His cum shot across your chest and neck and his body trembled in his rapture.

You pulled away your hand, slick with his cum, and sat back on your heels as you hung your head. The afterglow didn’t last long as you stared at your glistening palm. You were so weak; so selfish.

“Sweetie,” Steve reached down and lifted your chin with two fingers. “Don’t do that to yourself. You’re beautiful, you deserve to be admired.” He grabbed your elbow and helped you stand. “Come here.” 

He pulled you close and fell back with you across the bed. He embraced you as his cum cooled between your chests. Your heart beat furiously against him and you closed your eyes. He sighed and ran his fingers along your hair.

“I’m here ‘til next Friday,” He said. “Lots of time to get caught up.”

#dad!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #mcu #marvel #fic #series #kiss me in the d-a-r-k #epilogue #sequel #au #dark!fic #dark fic #darkverse #dark!verse #captain america

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

When Time Flies

Requested: By no one but myself

Pairings: Harry Styles x Soulmate!Reader b>

Summary: Y/N hasn’t looked at the timer counting down on her wrist in a few days, but her soulmate was on their way. Warnings: I don’t think that there are any

Word Count: 1,811

A/n: I really hope that you guys enjoy this, because I can honestly say that I did not see the day that I would be writing Harry Styles fanfiction again. That being said, I really enjoyed writing this, and I am eternally grateful to @secretschuylersister for all of her encouragement, as always. And thank you to @fragmentofmymind and @butlinislin for listening to me ramble about this lovely human last night.

You were going to murder Janice as soon as you got to the office. You couldn’t believe that she had called you at midnight. On the other hand, you could believe that your boss would do such a thing. She had not been afraid to drag you out of bed at five a.m., so why should this be any different?

Your hair was still a mess, and you had found a small stain on your white shirt a few minutes after you left your apartment. In between ignoring your phone’s constant wringing and attempting to throw on a little bit of mascara at stoplights, you wracked your brain for a reason as to why Janice needed you to be at the office this late.

You ruffled through your bag, and after five minutes, concluded that you had forgotten your key card amid the chaos. You sent up a silent thank you that Katie worked reception, and wasn’t allowed to leave until all of the artists finished their sessions, and pulled out your phone in a last-ditch effort to not piss Janice off any more than she was bound to be.

Thankfully, Katie picked up the phone on the second ring. “Did you forget your keycard again?”

You rolled your eyes. Katie wasn’t one to let things go. “I don’t know what all of this ‘again’ nonsense is about, but yes I did forget my key card. Because as you may have noticed, my boss called me into work at an ungodly hour.”

You hung up the phone as Katie held the door open for you, giving you a look that could only mean that she was feeling pretty great about herself. “Did you forget her coffee again?” Kate asked, but before you could answer, she handed you Janice’s usual order. You only had time to give her a grateful smile before she took her seat behind the front desk and you hurried up to the studio.

If it was someone important enough to make you get out of bed at this hour, you knew that Janice would be in Studio C, her favorite. She always claimed that C had the best acoustics, but you knew that all of the rooms were exactly the same. You weren’t going to be the one to tell her otherwise.

You rushed into the room only to hear a loud beeping that was echoing loudly around the room. Janice had begun to yell, but you were too focused on the noise that was coming from your bag. You began to dig around in your purse, annoyed that you didn’t think to put your cell phone on silent before coming into work that morning. “I’m so sorry about this,” you said, mostly to yourself as you dug through your unsurprisingly cluttered work bag. But then, you noticed that the timer on your wrist was flashing zero.

You hadn’t looked at it in days, not wanting to know when it was going to happen. You kept yourself occupied with work, hoping that you wouldn’t psych yourself out. Clearly, it had worked, but you did find yourself wishing that you had taken the time to brush your hair, instead of haphazardly finger combing it in the car.

You took a moment to calm down, to remind yourself to breathe. Your soulmate was here, in this room. As much as you had been dreading this moment, you also knew that this was going to be something that you remembered for the rest of your life. You were pulled from your thoughts by a deep voice saying something that you couldn’t completely make out.

You shifted your gaze from the timer on your wrist to the man that was standing in front of you. And you immediately began to laugh. Of all the days that the universe could have decided to play a huge cosmic joke on you, this was not the day that you were hoping for. Your eyes searched the room for someone who had a matching timer on your wrist, but much to your chagrin, the only person with a matching time stamp was already standing in front of you.

“You have got to be kidding me.” The words had tumbled from your mouth before you realized what was happening.

Standing in front of you was Harry Styles, as in the Harry Styles. The Harry Styles who you were supposed to be helping your boss record with today, apparently. Harry Styles who was looking you up and down, from your messy hair to the worn out flats on your feet. Harry Styles that was your soulmate.

“Hi,” he said, voice surprisingly soft. You forced yourself to meet his eyes. He gave you the smallest of smiles, before glancing down at his wrist. “I was starting to worry that you were going to be late.”

You saw Janice shuffling herself and a few producers out of the room from the corner of your eye, and you couldn’t remember a time when you had been so thankful for your sometimes overbearing boss.

“I wish I had a witty retort for you, but I am kind of still processing this,” you said, motioning around the studio. You would have thought that you were prepared for any response that he could have given you, but as his laugh filled up the entire room, you felt a strange kind of tug in your stomach.

“You look like you need to sit down,” he said quietly, as if he was afraid to startle you. Harry placed a gentle hand on your arm, guiding you to one of the couches that lined the walls of the control room. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Not if you keep doing things like that,” you said, staring at your hands in your lap. Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. You could feel the heat rising to your face, and there was no way for you to escape this situation.

You had imagined meeting your soulmate a million times, in the most cheesy meet-cutes that you could think of. But this was ridiculous. He was supposed to be a sweet boy that you met at a coffee shop, or at the park while he was walking his adorable puppy. This was ridiculous, and this was actually happening to you.

“Is there anything that I can do? I can get a water or-” His voice was impossibly soft, and you could feel the butterflies intensify in your stomach.

“It’s not fair that you know exactly what to say.” You said, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I would have liked to think that was one of my better qualities.” He huffed, but when you finally looked at him, he winked at you, sending a shiver down your spine.

“In that case, I guess you should work on being a little less perfect.” You said under your breath as you sank further back into the couch. “I think they made a mistake,” you said, voice barely a whisper. Although you thought you had said it so quietly that no one would hear, his laughter immediately faded.

“Who did?” he asked. You attempted to ignore the warm feeling in your stomach at the sound of his voice.

“I don’t know, them,” you said, gesturing up at some unknown cosmic force. “They with a capital T.”

His hands wrapped around yours, and suddenly, you felt grounded again. “I don’t even know your name yet, but I already know that you are absolutely perfect. Do you want to know how I know that.”

You couldn’t formulate a response, and simply nodded your head.

He placed your hand on his chest, fingers splayed out over his heart. “Because I can feel it.” He held your hand a little tighter, pushing it closer to him. “Here.”

Your forced yourself to take your eyes off of where your hand met his chest, and attempt to formulate a response. After a few seconds of coming up blank, you simply muttered your name, figuring that would at least take care of that problem.

Harry was beaming at you, and you couldn’t help but beam right back.

“I would ask if you wanted to go and get a coffee, but I guess that it is a little late for that.”

“We could always get decaf.”

It took the both of you a few seconds to even realize that you had made a joke. You were both consumed in a fit of giggles. After you finally regained control of yourself, you realized that you had fallen over into Harry’s lap, and as you stared up at his smiling face, you were in no hurry to get up.

“Don’t you have music to record?” You asked after a few minutes of contented silence. Harry had taken to tracing the lines on your palm, the metal of his rings heating up as time went on, and although you would have been happy to lay there on that couch with him for the rest of your life, it had occurred to you that he had a career, and there was a reason why he was in your place of employment.

“I think that it could wait, at least until tomorrow.” He said, his voice slow and even.

“Well then,” you said, hopping off of the couch and offering him your hand. “How about that decaf?”

He took your hand in his, and lead you out of the studio. He gave Janice and the producers an apologetic smile as he lead you down the corridor. “Are you sure that you should be leaving like this?” You asked, not wanting him to get into trouble with the studio.

“I think that they will be okay with a few extra hours of sleep.” He laughed.

You spotted Katie at her desk, trying her absolute best to act like a normal human being. “Give me a few seconds?” you asked Harry. He glanced over your shoulder and pecked you on the cheek before making his way over to the couches and pulling out his phone.

“What is going on?” Katie practically squealed, eyes darting between you and your soulmate.

You simply showed her your timer, which was finally done counting down.

“Are you kidding me?” She asked, grabbing your wrist, examining the timer.

“That’s what I said,” you laughed, a little too loudly. Harry’s laugh echoed through the empty lobby, making your face heat up all over again. “I know that it sounds crazy, but I think that it is really going to work.”

“Well, I hope so, because damn,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You rolled your eyes at her, but promised to call before you grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him to the, thankfully empty, Starbucks around the corner.

You can find my masterlist here!

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