#jennifer goines fic

[islndgurl777]

the endings we choose

Fandom: 12 Monkeys

Length: ~3700

When Time allows them to remember the life-that-wasn't, Ramse, Katarina, and Hannah have different reactions. Luckily Cassie, Jennifer, and Cole are there to explain. Timelines can be erased. Love (and family) cannot.

Sequel to writing about the past for the future tense, hashtag not-a-red-shirt problems

Both on AO3 here.

/

YEAR

2043

Ramse

José’s been having weird dreams. Nothing specific he can put his finger on, nothing he can remember with real clarity except bright flashes of light, the staccato sound of gunfire, and the taste of his own blood in his mouth. 

Strangely, he doesn’t awaken from these dreams frightened, but rather… lonely? Aching. Like there’s something important to them that he’s missing. Someone .

It’s maddening to wake day after day with the persistent feeling that he’s forgetting something important. He starts making to-do lists so he can keep track of anything he needs to do in an effort to stop the dreams or make the wrong feeling go away, but it continues. For weeks, the same dream, the same feeling haunts him.

There’s nothing special about that day in March 2043 except that he awakens with a much clearer idea of what exactly it is that he’s been dreaming about for months, a plot so crystal clear and cogent in his early morning brain that he has to pause for a minute to marvel at the fact that his unconscious mind put such a wild tale together. 

A plague and a dead world and a time machine and a brother. 

That last is what drives him the most crazy, because he can feel the man’s name at the tip of his tongue, will open his mouth to say it like he’s said it a thousand, a million times… but he doesn’t know what that name is. He knows this man down to his bones, to his very soul, and José knows he’s the source of the ache in his chest, but he’s never seen the man before in his life, and he doesn’t even know his name. 

How can he miss someone who never existed? 

/

He takes Sam into the city for a boys’ day. They take the train in and wander for hours, José pointing out landmarks he remembers from his youth, and at one point he says without thinking, “Your uncle Cole once-.“ He stops dead in the middle of the sidewalk, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. 

Cole. Cole. Who was that?

He doesn’t register Sam guiding him away from the middle of the sidewalk until his back hits the rough brick wall of the nearest building, and his legs almost give out under him. 

“Daddy?” Sam says, sounding worried.

José blinks and shakes his head to clear it. His kid needs him and that takes priority over his weird mental break. “Yeah, buddy?”

Sam tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed, and says, “Who’s Uncle Cole?”

Tears spring to his eyes at the name and his breath hitches in his chest again. “I- I don’t-“ he shakes his head and tears his eyes away from Sam’s confused face, looking around for answers he knows he’ll never find and he stops at the sign of the hotel across the street. 

Emerson. 

A strangled noise catches in his throat and he suddenly knows.

It was all real. 

The Kalavirus. Splinter technology. Titan.

James Cole.

He swallows against a dry throat and straightens. Holds out his hand for Sam and squeezes it for his own sake as much as to reassure his son. “C’mon, buddy.” His voice is rough so he clears it. “We might have some people to meet.”

/

Cassie 

There’s a hesitant knock on the door to the room and Cassie’s heart leaps into her throat.

James should be here for this. He was the one who was supposed to greet his brother when Time finally caught up and he remembered them, but Jennifer had said it should be Cassie instead. 

“Why?” she’d blurted, knife raised in the act of slicing a block of cheese for their wine night. She’d frozen, mouth agape and stared at Jennifer as if she’d grown another head.

Jennifer rolled her eyes and put her hand on Cassie’s wrist, slowly lowering the blade. “Why not?”

Cassie let go of the knife and turned to fully face Jennifer, speaking a little slowly because it was absurd she even had to say it. “Because it’s Ramse. He’s Cole’s brother. Shouldn’t he be the one to-”

Jennifer was already shaking her head. “No, it should be you.”

‘Why?” Cassie pressed again. “Why does it have to be me?” Their mutual hatred for each other might have settled into a mutual understanding of each other there at the end, but that was hardly reason enough for Cassie to be the one to tell Ramse the story of everything he’d missed. 

“Because he might not believe it’s over if he sees me first,” Cole said from the doorway. He must’ve come to get refills for him and Deacon. “He knew Time was supposed to unmake me after Titan, and if he sees I’m still alive before we get a chance to explain how, he might panic and think this is all still… temporary. He doesn’t deserve that, not after…” He sighed and shook his head. “He deserves to be happy, and maybe that means he never knows I’m here, but if he needs answers, he should hear it from you.”

His eyes pleaded with her to do this for him, and there’s not much she wouldn’t do for James Cole, so in the end she nodded and agreed to be there in his stead.

She wipes the palms of her hands on her thighs and lets out a slow breath as she walks to the door.

He’s the youngest she’s ever seen him, aside from when they’d dropped James off at the orphanage in 2015, or maybe the difference in his eyes is that he hasn’t lived through the death of the world. He looks healthy, and so unburdened. 

His voice is the exact same though, as he lets out a raspy, “Hi,” that throws her back to just before the final battle at Titan.

“Hi,” she says, a little stunned by how happy she is to see him. 

They stand there staring at each other for a long moment before a high-pitched, “Hi!” comes from behind Ramse, jolting Cassie’s eyes away from him. 

She sucks in a breath and the tears break free. “Sam,” she breathes, reverent. He’s unmistakably the same boy she’d known in the unmade timeline - the one Ramse had been hellbent on destroying the world for, the one he’d become the Traveler for, the one he would have killed his brother, her and their son for.

They’d undone it all and yet he’s here, half-hiding behind Ramse and looking up at her curiously.

Cassie suddenly understands Ramse completely. This man had been willing to end the world for his son and his family, and she had almost done the exact same thing. And for both of them, there had been only one person who could have prevented them from doing so.

Cassie looks back to Ramse and can’t contain her happiness any longer. She pulls him into a hug, and he’s just startled enough to let her. He wraps his arms around her slowly, gives her one firm squeeze, and then pulls away, wiping his eyes as he does so. 

He clears his throat and turns to Sam. “This is your Aunt Cass,” he says, voice still rough.

Cassie doesn’t bother wiping away her tears, just opens the door wider and gestures for them to come in. “Have a seat. I’ll order us some lunch, and then I'll tell you a story,” she says. 

As she watches them settle in on the couch in suite 607, she bites her lip and considers her options. Finally, she decides that sometimes, Primaries and husbands don’t always know best, so she pulls out her phone to send off a quick text. She clears her throat and sits in the armchair next to them and continues, “After that, there’s some other people you might want to see.”

/

Katarina

“You ever think this technology could be used for something else?” Jennifer blurts as they watch a stack of crates disappear from the platform in front of them in a flash of blue light. 

Katarina turns to her and cocks her head. “Haven’t I taken enough funding from Markridge, Jennifer? And now you want me to start another project?” She can’t deny the little thrill that shoots through her at the thought of a new project, but she’s decided she’s retiring once this one is finalized. She’s ready to let the young scientists take up the mantle and usher in the future.

Jennifer shrugs and her voice is strangely intent as she says, “Might not be as difficult as you thought, adapting that machine for other uses.”

She lets out a short bark of laughter. “Like what?” She can’t think of anything her machine is equipped to do except teleport objects, except perhaps someday soon people, but that’s years of work down the line. Nothing she could do anytime soon.

With a huff and a bit of a pout, Jennifer turns away and says, “Just thought I’d ask!”

/

After Jennifer mentions it, Katarina starts having strange dreams. What other advancements in technology could her life’s work beget? For some reason, her unconscious mind leaps from travel to time travel, and a series of dreams keep her sleeping poorly for weeks. 

She keeps sneaking out in the middle of the night for a calming cigarette until one night when Elliot joins her. Instead of rebuking her for falling off the wagon, he holds his hand out for the pack and lights up alongside her. “I’ve been having the strangest dreams,” he murmurs, pressing a hand to his forehead.

Katarina nods and takes another drag of her cigarette. “Me too.” They sit in comfortable silence for a long time before she continues, “I dreamt I had radiation poisoning from the machine.”

Elliot freezes, then turns slowly to look at her. “I dreamt that too. And then I dreamt that Deacon shot me.”

Now it’s Katarina’s turn to freeze. She hadn’t dreamt that, but it still feels… correct, which is a strange feeling to have about a man who was a good friend to both of them and who gave such a beautiful toast at their anniversary party last year. “Elliot…”

He stubs out his cigarette and shakes his head, holding his hand out for her. “I think we need to gather more data, what do you say, Kat?”

She huffs and rolls her eyes, but also puts out her cigarette and reaches for his hand. “Dreams are not a science, Elliot. I don’t think ‘more data’ will help with this one.”

They walk through the door hand in hand and he gives her a little spin, dancing her into the circle of his arms as they cross the threshold. “Well, then, at least I will have gotten you back into bed, wouldn’t I?” he smirks as he presses a kiss to the corner of her eye.

She swears she doesn’t giggle as they make their way back into their bedroom.

/

Jennifer

In the end there’s no lightning bolt moment that marks the time before Katarina knew and the time after.

Jennifer and Deacon are sitting across from them at their dining room table. It’s their biweekly dinner double-date and they’re a couple bottles of wine down as a group when Jennifer says something so nonsensical that Katarina barks out a laugh and says with affection, “You’re still as batshit crazy as ever, Ms. Goines.”

And Jennifer pauses in the middle of her laughter, eyes still bright with happiness.

“I can’t thank you enough for your contributions to our project, Ms. Goines,” Katarina had said as she shook Jennifer’s hand at their first meeting.

Jennifer’s nose had wrinkled and she’d shook her head. “No, I don’t think we’re there yet. You can just call me Jennifer.”

Katarina found herself, for some inexplicable reason, bucking years of propriety instilled in her by her father and had agreed immediately. “Then you’ll call me Katarina.”

Jennifer reaches over to squeeze Deacon’s hand, finding it without looking, because this is it. This is the beginning of them starting to close their own little loop. And her smile widens further as she nods to Katarina and says, “Always, Jonesy. Always.”

/

Just the two of them are out on the patio finishing another bottle of wine when Katarina brings it up. “How on earth did you convince me to create some of the serum to send Mr. Deacon back to, when, 2016? 2018?”

Jennifer takes another sip, nearly finishing off her glass, and shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, Jonesy. Time said it was cool? Cole wasn’t the only one who worked his ass off to save the universe, y’know. I had a little something to do with it too.”

Katarina snorts rather inelegantly and absolutely does not spill any of her wine down her shirt, no siree. “And much like Time conspired-- with my help, by the way-- to return James to Cassie, so you and Time have conspired to return Mr. Deacon to you?”

“Uh, yeah!” Jennifer says with a roll of her eyes. “Well, Deacon-- this Deacon-- helps too. Because he wanted to. Wants to? Will want to?” Even though she forgot to tell him he wanted to until it was almost too late. But his books are almost finished now, so it’ll be fine. Just like she knew it would be.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Ms. Goines. Jennifer.” Katarina lets out a muttered curse in German. “I can’t believe you found a way to bring this family together again, despite… everything.”

Jennifer thinks of Lasky and Adler, both retired now, but whose work had once again been instrumental in technological advancements at Raritan. Marcus, whose path had not drawn him into their orbit in this life, but who she keeps tabs on anyway through a number of contacts in the military. A long list of the women who were once her daughters, some of whom she was able to help in this life, some of whom she was not, but every one of whom she’d loved in the life that got erased and this one.

She sighs. “Love can’t be undone, Jonesy.” She raises her glass in a toast - to everyone she’s ever loved -  and drains it. “Now about the machine…”

/

Hannah 

Hannah doesn’t think she can recall a single one of her own birthdays that her Uncle James wasn’t present for. There had to have been, when she was very young, because he and Aunt Cass didn’t meet her mom until her Aunt Jenny introduced them after Markridge became a major donor at Raritan, but that was so long ago now that it really doesn’t count.

Her Uncle James has been a constant in her life for as long as she can remember. Birthdays, graduations, the occasional soccer game before she got fed up with team sports. 

“Have you ever thought about fighting?” he’d asked her once, after she’d quit sports for good but was lamenting the lack of physical activity; she wasn’t meant to sit still.

She lifted a brow at him and said drily, “I’ve thought of punching one or two of the cheerleaders who bully the freshmen, if that’s what you mean.”

He barked out a laugh. “No, like boxing, or MMA, or some self-defense? I think you’d like it.”

She cocked her head. “I’ll think about it,” she promised. 

A month later he was helping her through some moves at the gym and he smiled widely at her, tears in his eyes, when she threw him over her shoulder on pure instinct. When she tried to apologize he waved her off with a laugh and said, “No, I’m fine. You just reminded me a lot of my mom just then.”

The point is, he’s such a large part of her life that it doesn’t surprise her when he pops up a lot in her dreams, and her parents are science freaks (stated with utmost affection), so having dreams with wacky stories about plagues and time travel really aren’t that strange to her.

She starts having weirdly specific and scary dreams but chalks it up to being too old to drink coffee past 5 pm and adjusts her diet accordingly.

/

“You should take your uncle out for this birthday,” her mom says to her apropos of nothing during one of their weekly phone calls.

Hannah’s fork pauses in the act of digging through her box of takeout, trying to remember what day it is today, and which uncle her mom could be talking about. “James? I thought Cassie was taking him to the Keys for the week?”

Her mom hums and says, “Something came up.”

Hannah makes a sound like she’s considering it as she finishes chewing her food.

“Get dressed up, go to that bar you two like so much. Make a fun night of it,” her mom prods, and her tone is so carefully casual that it sends a shiver down Hannah’s spine.

“Mom?” she says, and sets the box of noodles on her coffee table. “Is something wrong?” She hates how weak and thready her voice sounds. A pit is forming in her stomach; if something’s wrong with James she thinks she might actually die from the pain.

“Hmm? Oh, no, Hannah, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to worry you.” Katarina mutters under her breath in German, quiet enough that Hannah can’t quite pick it up. “I just know he misses you, and I thought it would be nice for you two to spend his birthday together.”

Hannah lets out a shaky breath and gives a short, sharp nod. “I’ll text him tonight.”

/

Her work schedule demands she meet him there rather than going together, and she’s a little late arriving at the Emerson. She rushes through the lobby and heads straight for the bar, an apology on the tip of her tongue, but she stops dead just inside the door when she sees him.

Cole is sitting in an armchair near the window, watching the amber of his whisky sour swirl in his glass while he waits for her. Headlights flash through the window, blinding her for a moment and in that moment she remembers a much younger Cole sitting in front of a fireplace with her and her mother as they all drank whisky sours on the promise of “one minute more.”

Before that the last time she’d seen him he’d been a few months old, a heavy weight in her arms that she’d wanted desperately to hold onto forever, but one she knew she’d have to give up. 

This version of Cole has salt-and-pepper scruff on his cheek and deep wrinkles next to his eyes. He looks like his father, she thinks. A deep ache presses on her heart at that and she feels a sob catch in her throat.

She feels like she’s wading through pudding as she crosses the bar over to him. If she’s here right now, he shouldn’t be, and now that she’s fully aware of who he is she’s afraid to find this miracle she’s known and loved her whole life is about to evaporate before her eyes.

He sees her then and his eyes light up as he stands to greet her, but he takes in the look on her face and pauses instead of going for his regular hug. “Hannah?”

She lets out a sob as she throws her arms around him, squeezing-squeezing-squeezing as tight as she possibly can. She never wants to let him go again.

“Mom,” he sighs into her ear, and she lets out a hysterical laugh into his neck. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

/

Cole

Hannah shakes in his arms, but she has a vice-like grip around him so he can’t pull away to look into her eyes and check on her. “Hannah,” he says quietly into her hair again, loosening his own hold on her. 

She shakes her head and whispers, “Just give me another minute. One minute more.”

He nods and tightens his grip again, happy to give her this.

In the erased timeline, he’d held her when she was four and nearly died of meningitis at Spearhead, and he didn’t hold her again until she lay dying in his arms that day at JFK when they killed the world. 

In this timeline, he’s held her countless times. 

“This is Hannah,” Jones said, bouncing the toddler on her hip and giving them an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, we may have to reschedule dinner. I’ve barely started cooking since this one’s being a bit of a grump about going to bed.”

Cassie nodded and opened her mouth to reassure her it was fine, but it snapped shut when Hannah launched herself from Katarina’s arms into Cole’s. 

“Woah,” he said, catching her with ease. “Careful, kiddo.” He adjusted his grip to put her on his own hip and looked into her eyes.

“Hannah!” Jones gasped, stepping forward to take her back even as Hannah leaned her head on Cole’s shoulder and snuggled in.

“It’s okay, Katarina,” he said, brushing his cheek along Hannah’s, meeting Cassie’s eyes.

She nodded and turned to Jones. “James can tell her a bedtime story in the living room while we finish up in the kitchen, if you want?”

Jones laughed at her daughter’s antics but left him to hold Hannah while he murmured a story to her about a serpent who only traveled in one direction.

That was the first, but there have been countless hugs since to mark hellos, goodbyes, congratulations, breakups, or even just because. They hadn’t had enough before, so he’s made sure to make up for it in this life.

“Okay,” she says, nodding into his shoulder and loosening her grip. 

He pulls away and looks down into her eyes, red-rimmed with her eyeliner and mascara smudged up so much she reminds him of when she used to be a Daughter. “Hi,” he says, his own eyes a little watery.

“How…” She swallows hard and shakes her head, eyes searching his face. “How are you here?” she asks, lifting her hand to cup his cheek.

He squeezes her other hand in his and guides her to the settee next to the chair he’d been occupying. Once they’re seated he starts, “At the end of the world, when Time was supposed to unmake me, one of the best women I know chose a different ending.”

[love-toxin]

Share some of your recs! I need some new crushes!

MEOW!!! ok!! tbh most of my top ones u probably already heard of or seen b4 LOL but first is probably the first Scream (1996) !! (also this list is in no particular order LMAO)

- based. classic. matthew lillard <33 all the goodies!! one of the first horrors i ever watched under my parent's noses LOL. 14 year old me was bisexually smitten <3

- og tcm, tcm the beginning, and leatherface! i also actually liked the 2022 version even if it wasn't particularly spectacular compared to the others--brain empty leatherface hot <33 (also there's some dilf eye candy u might enjoy hehe)

- friday the 13th 1 & 2! the og is soooo close to my heart i love. him <3

- carrie & jennifer's body......lesbians u know what's up.....i love weird <3 off-putting <3 unhinged <3 rage-fueled <3 demonic women <33

- the boy (2016)...................brahmsie.........he got me by the throat 💀💀 unfortunately i am not immune to huge dong-itis

- fear street! the whole trilogy is great (lotsa cuties <3 its got maya hawke!) but the 2nd installment (1978) is my favourite!! summer camp + interesting lore + continuity + axe-wielding maniac ahhhh! also im workin on the part 2 for my tommy slater fic 4 those who liked it hehe

- the ritual (2018) and prey (2021) are two non-slasher horrors i rlly like too! the ritual was based on a book i rlly enjoyed & its about 4 friends who go on a hiking trip in sweden n get lost n hunted by an eldritch deity--very cool if u like psych thrillers! prey's a german film (it's a little slow at times but i liked it!) so long as u don't mind subtitles its pretty good! same vein as the ritual, friends in the woods gettin lost & hunted n its got lotsa blood. i found it pretty creepy at times & the plot twists were cool imo! would you rather (2012) is another non-slasher i liked that's more death game media but i haven't watched it in a longass time so i can't speak on how good it holds up LOL

- most likely to die (2015). now. hear me out. i don't think a single person ive recced this movie to irl has unironically enjoyed it & not made fun of me for liking it but it has a special place in my heart........listen. it's dumb. but it has a psycho in it that i kinda love & i actually RLLY like the design of the graduate. so! if u have nothing better to do then give it a watch ehe </3

- for korean movie enjoyers: #alive, zombie movie so not rlly horror but the protagonist is a cutie & i got properly spooked in a few places! train to busan in the same vein, zombie movie + dilf protagonist + unending horrors <3 which brings me to not a movie but a netflix series: the silent sea! properly spooky dystopian space scifi that most certainly gave me the willies!! reccing it also cause....hehe....dilf

anyways! those r just off the top of my head so there's probably lots more im not thinkin of, & i got lots to watch now thanx to the recs so im gonna be goin on more deep dives <33 muahahaha!

[littleliteraturersj]

More Favorite Bickering Quotes From My Slasher Roommates Fic: (HoH:DC)

Chucky: *looking around the kitchen* "Okay, who do we want on groceries?" Freddy: *goes to open his mouth* Chucky: *shaking a hand at him* "Uh-uh, I don't even wanna hear it. I know you're not fuckin' goin'. You're one plastic wrap away from lookin' like packaged raw meat on a shelf. I ain't buyin' it, and neither would anybody else." Freddy: *pointing back at him* "You think I don't fit in? Ya look like you need to be sold with the coloring books and school supplies." Pinhead: *looking over at the doll with a subtle smile* "I believe you would fetch a fair price." Chucky: "You got jokes, Pinball? Because I got better chances of goin' out than you do. I'm a doll. I'm inconspicuous. All Jen's gotta do is carry me, and I'll let my good looks do the rest. You on the other hand, look like you crawled out of the basement of Home Depot. You ain't any closer to strollin' out and 'bout anymore than the rest of us. If anybody's got a chance, it's Mike." *gesturing over at Michael Myers* Michael: *silently grumpy* Chucky:*to Jennifer* "You just ain't ready to get your hands on some real wood, that's all it is. Not everybody can handle all of this." *gesturing down at his body quite seriously* Jennifer: *snorting* Freddy: *picking over his blades as if they're nails* "Let's be real, playpen. The closest you've been to 'real wood' is laminate flooring." Chucky: "You wouldn't know real wood if I planted a tree up your ass." Ghostface: "Who the fuck is Martha Stewart?" Chucky: "I dunno! But if the broad's taught me anything, it's how to improvise." Ghostface: "Don't talk to me about improvising, you couldn't improvise your way out of a cardboard box." Jennifer: "I'm sorry," *she thinks better of it* "Actually? No, I'm not. Did I just fucking time travel back to the 1950s without knowing it? Is this why you've been trying to get me out of my room all day? To get me to clean up after you and make your meals?" Chucky: "Don't take this the wrong way, but.." *pursing his lips* "Yeah." Jennifer: "If you’re so hungry, why haven’t you made yourself something to eat? You didn’t have to wait on me for it!" Chucky: "Oh gee, you’re right. Silly me, lemme just float on up to the counter and whip myself up somethin’ nic-I’M A DOLL!" *gesturing back at the stove* "THAT AIN'T EXACTLY AN EASY-BAKE OVEN!"

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

putting roots in my dreamland

jennifer x deacon, 12 monkeys. also on ao3.

i think i must have been pulling up randomly generated words as inspiration when i wrote this. little ficlet just for fun.

“When all this is over, we should go to an island. Wear big floppy hats, sip drinks with little umbrellas in them, and watch the waves.”

“I’ve never seen the ocean. It always sounded nice in stories.”

“Earth to Jennifer,” Deacon said softly, pulling her out of her thoughts. “What’s in that head of yours today?” 

“Summer. Belonging. Rushing crowds and getting lost in them.”

“Hmm.” He looked down, satisfied to see her hands relaxed at her sides. Not a bad day, then. 

“I feel more like myself when I’m with you,” Jennifer told him--then shook her head. 

“I feel like I can be myself, with you. I’ve never really had that. Even Cole, he thinks I’m crazy. He loves me anyway, we’ve got this nice little end of the world family,” she added in a rush, as if Cole needed her defending from afar. 

Deacon knew it was habit, easy as breathing for her. She trusted Cole instinctively, almost immediately. He didn’t inspire that kind of confidence in anyone, which was probably why he felt no guilt taking the low road. 

“Yeah, yeah, we are family. How about you go back to how I’m all special?”

“You like me.”

He waited for more, then shrugged. “Of course I like you.”

“You say it like it’s simple. Nothing with me ever has been. My own family didn’t like me, Deacon, and things have never really gotten better from there. At best I’ve been tolerated.”

She hugged herself. “Sometimes, that’s worse.”

“C’mere.” He knew she got cold in the bunker, though he also knew when the chill she felt wasn’t the weather. “I could never tolerate you.”

“I know,” she said into his chest. “You’re so honest, it burns. Right down to my toes.”

“Is that good?”

“Yes.” She pressed into him, forever trying to merge them into one being that would have perfect understanding. “When you tell me true things that nobody else will, or you look at me and you mean it, it burns like a summer day at the beach. I miss that, y’know.”

“Not much time for sunbathing these days,” Deacon agreed. 

“When all this is over, we should go to an island. Wear big floppy hats, sip drinks with little umbrellas in them, and watch the waves.”

“I’ve never seen the ocean. It always sounded nice in stories.”

“It’s better than anything you can imagine,” Jennifer said. “You have to see it. Someday.”

“Sure,” he agreed with a laugh that she pretended meant yes when really it meant he was humoring her. 

He never really talked about after, just nodded along when she did, or made the right agreement noises. She didn’t know if it was because Deacon didn’t think they would make it, or because he didn’t want to tie himself to her once things got better. 

Jennifer hadn’t asked, because she didn’t think that answer would burn like a day at the beach. 

For now, she just tipped her head up and waited for him to look down. “It’s a date, then.”

He kissed her, drawing it out to ease the sting of his silence. “Someday, you’ll see the ocean again,” he promised when they pulled apart. “In all its glory.”

“And you’ll come, too,” she hoped out loud. “I want to show you. Unless, after it all, you don’t want--”

Deacon kissed her again to stop that thought from where he guessed it was headed. “If I don’t want you? No chance.”

“So, it’s decided. You, me. Fancy drinks. A beach, somewhere far from here.”

“And in this future, we’re just going to jet off to an island?”

“I’m an heiress, remember? We could take a private jet, I could bankroll whatever adventures I feel like...if the world wasn’t broken anymore.”

“Right, right. Sometimes I forget you’re one of the wealthy.”

He sighed, just to make her smile. “Fine, then. Someday when we’re all safe and sound, we’ll get the hell out of here. You can find your island. Take me with you.”

[kacchansass]

I just need to tell you how much I LOVE Jennifer's Body and how ridiculously excited I am for this fic!

Thank you so much!!!! I hope I deliver with this story!!

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Fifty-Seven

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Smut and Fluff.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

As promised, Wednesday after work, you and Harry went to the tattoo parlor so you could get your nose pierced. You picked out a white gold stud, and picked out a few hoops you’d want to interchange with once you could.

“This one is so cool, it has diamonds on it. It could be for like special occasions.”

Harry couldn’t wait to see you with the hoop once it was time. He was already parched just thinking about it. You grabbed some thinner hoops for work as well. He watches you look over the naval piercings. He points to a few he likes and you grab one of them. Your name gets called and you go to sit in the chair.

“Which side?”

“Left, please.”

“And you’re doing this so you can have a hoop later, right?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, so I’ll do it a little lower down. Now, don’t twist this like you would an ear piercing. You need to let this be so it can heal properly.”

“Okay.” You reach out for Harry’s hand as the man cleans up your nose. You close your eyes, and Harry almost thinks to take your picture because he think you look so cute.

“Okay, here we go.”

You grit your teeth and white knuckle Harry’s hand. He places his other hand on your shoulder.

“Son of a bitch!” You yelp as the needle goes into your nose.

“Almost done.” The man reassures you.

Your nostril felt numb, but you were happy with it when he showed it to you in the mirror.

“Looks great, love.”

“Alright, Harry, you ready?”

“Yup.” He hands him a piece of paper from his pocket. “I’d like that on my forearm, where there’s space.”

Harry sits down in a chair as the man cleans up his arm. You sit next him.

“What are you getting?”

Before Harry can answer, the man puts a piece of paper over where Harry wants it and peels it back. You see a very small, very detailed sunflower.

“A sunflower, for my sunflower.” He winks at you.

“Oh, Harry…are you sure?”

“Positive. Will yeh hold my hand?” He smiles.

“Don’t make fun of me.” You pout. “It really hurt.”

“I know baby.” He puts his hand out to you as the man gets to work. You’re amazed that Harry doesn’t even flinch, but he had so many he could hardly feel it anymore.

Thirty or so minutes later it was done. You take a picture of it for him before the man bandages it up. You each pay separately for your things and head out.

“So my nose really looks good?”

“Yup, can’t wait to see the hoop in it though.”

“Six to eight weeks.” You smile. “I can’t believe you got my favorite flower tattooed on you, that was so sweet.”

“S’not weird?”

“Not at all! It’s so special, like, something for the two of us.” He takes your hand in his and kisses it.

//

Harry had confirmed your double date with Rachel and Mariah. The four of you agreed on a trivia night at a local bar. You all meet there Friday night after work. It was a little weird for Harry to be hanging out with someone outside of work, but he got on with Mariah pretty well, so it wasn’t totally awkward.

You and Rachel told stories from college, and Mariah talked about getting into photography. Rachel explains why she wanted to be a high school art teacher.

“I just think kids that age lose a lot of the fun in their lives. Art is important at any age, but when they’re getting ready to go to college, I wanna help them destress with my classes.”

“That’s so cool.” Mariah says and Rachel blushes.

“Mariah, what was it like when you and Harry first met?” You were a tad tipsy.

“Oh god, I was terrified of him.” She laughs and his jaw drops. “But then when he shook my hand and I saw the bright pink color on his nails, I knew wasn’t so scary.” She giggles. “I’ll never forget, after the first two weeks, he comes over to me and he says, ‘I think you’re the only person here other than myself that isn’t a blithering idiot’.” Everyone at the table laughs at her impression of him. It was pretty good.

“I was right though.”

“Very true. God, it’s so annoying when someone else tries to set up a shot for you, isn’t it? Like hello, I have a vision.”

“Exactly! If it was as easy as just snappin’ away, anyone would do it.”

“So was everyone scared of Harry?” Rachel asks.

“I think they were mostly intimidated. Everyone talks to each other and gets together, but H always stuck to himself.”

“Not the type of people I wanted to be chummy with.” He has a disgusted look on his face, thinking of Mykenzie. “I quite like Isaac though, he’s been a good addition.”

“Love Isaac, he always gets us everything we need.”

“He’s always so nice when I come to visit.” You say.

“He’s got a huge crush on Harry.” Mariah giggles.

“Stop it.” Harry says groaning.

“You know he does.”

“Thought he just thought I was cute or somethin’. Didn’t think it was a crush.”

“Well, I’ve never asked him personally, so he could easily just be attracted to you. I’ve heard him talk about it with Julia and Dana.” The sound of Julia’s name makes you want to vomit.

“Jesus, Harry, does everyone at your work have a thing for you?” Rachel asks.

“Everyone except this one.” He winks and nods towards Mariah, making both girls giggle.

Trivia starts and you all pick a stupid team name. You and Rachel were best at coming up with answers. You both knew a lot about pop culture, and luckily there weren’t too many other categories.

“How the fuck did yeh know that?” Was something Harry said quite a bit, and you both just shrugged your shoulders.

“Which Kardashian married an NBA player after dating for thirty days?” The emcee asks.

“Oh that was Khloe.” You tell Rachel to write down. Harry’s jaw drops. “What?”

“You’re obsessed with reality television!”

“Not true! I used to watch Keeping Up when I was in college. It was night to have on in the background when I’d do homework. It’s not a show you have to pay attention to.”

“What was the name of season twenty Bachelor?”

“Ben Higgins.” You, Rachel, and Mariah all say at the same time.

“Jesus Christ.”

“You watch the Bachelor?” Rachel asks her.

“Never miss an episode. You watch?”

“Yeah, we should get together to watch some time.”

“I’d like that.” They smile at each other. You put your hand on Harry’s leg and give it a little squeeze.

“What did Leonardo DiCaprio text back to Jennifer Lopez after James Corden texted him from her phone back in 2016?”

“Who the fuck would know-“

“You mean tonight boo boo? Club wise?” You say as Rachel nods and writes it down. You look at Harry whose mouth was hanging wide open. “Do you not watch carpool karaoke ever?”

“Can’t say I do, love.”

“You’re missing out.” You giggle.

“Do you still have that picture of Leo with that quote over his like serious face and it’s in black and white?”

“I do! It’s in a drawer in my office. Makes me laugh when I look at it.”

You were quirky, and Harry rarely got to see these little things come out. He liked it, a lot. You were sort of nerdy in your own right and he thought it was insanely cute.

Your group came in third place, earning you each a coupon for a free app the next time you came to the bar. You all say goodnight, and confirm what time with Rachel you should be over tomorrow to get ready.

//

Your hair was up in messy bun and you had sweats on before you left for Sarah and Rachel’s. You bring your large overnight bag out to the front hall, and go up to the loft to say goodbye to Harry.

“Any plans tonight, baby?”

“Yeah, Niall’s comin’ over. Think we’re goin’ to play Madden.”

“Oh great!”

“That’s what you’re wearin’ for your big night out?”

“God no, I’m getting ready with them. Like old times. We pregame a little while doing each other’s hair and make up. We decide on outfits, all that girly stuff.”

“So I don’t even get to see what you’re wearin’ out before you go?” He pouts and puts his hands on your hips as you stand between his legs.

“’Fraid not.” You lean in and kiss his forehead. “I’ll send you a pic though.” You kiss him on the lips. “Have fun with Niall.”

“Have fun with the girls.”

He watches you descend down the stairs. He was very curious to know what you might be wearing. He hoped it wasn’t too sexy since he wouldn’t be there. The thought of a bunch people looking at you didn’t sit right with him, but it was out of his control. He also hated that you wouldn’t be coming back to him tonight. He wanted your drunk cuddles, they were the best.

You drive to Rachel and Sarah’s and hug Sarah and wish her a happy birthday. You all start drinking and get ready. You each take turns posting to your Instagram stories. Giggles and music in the background.

Niall comes over to see Harry, and they both get set up on the sofa.

“How was your date last night?” Harry asks.

“Made her cry tears of joy, finally gave her a key to my place.”

“Good for you mate!” Harry smiles at him. Niall checks his phone and looks at all three of your stories. “What in the fuck was that?”

“Our girls havin’ a grand ol’ time. Look.” Niall shows him Sarah’s story and sees you with your hair half done, curling iron in hand, making a kiss face as Rachel dances behind you. “Like they never stopped livin’ together.” He chuckles.

“Any idea where they’re goin’?”

“Pinz I think.”

//

“Okay, what am I wearing?” Sarah asks.

“We got you this sash that says ‘birthday bitch’ so you have to wear it.” Rachel giggles.

“Guess that means I should wear my red dress to match, huh?” She snatches it. “What did you bring, Y/N?”

“Oh, just my fav party outfit.” You grin. You take out a skin tight quarter sleeve, olive green, midi dress.

“Ohhh shiiiittt.” Rachel says. “She back in town.”

“For one night only.” You wink.

Sarah puts on a short sleeve red dress that flowed around her thighs. Rachel put on a black pencil skirt and white crop top. You all looked great. None of you wore a bra, purposefully, to just make out all of your piercings. You set up your phone to take a few pictures of the three of you. The three of you were feeling sexy, and you were ready to show Sarah a good time.

“Wait, I told Harry I’d send him a picture.”

“Better send one to Niall too.”

“Okay, line up you heteros.” Rachel says sarcastically. You both stick your tongue out at her.

“Y/N, push your boobs up, really put a show on for him.” She giggles.

“Okay, like this?” You push your boobs up and pout your lips.

“Model! Model vibes!” Sarah screams as she takes a shot of tequila.

“Okay, now turn around and look over your shoulder. Gotta show that booty.” You do as she says.

“He’s gonna kill me.” You laugh.

“Why?”

“Because not only am I not wearing a bra, but I don’t have any panties on either.”

“Well, duh, you can’t with that dress.” Sarah defends you. “Okay, my turn.”

You and Rachel snap pictures of the birthday girl. You both send the pictures to your boyfriends. You take some more silly pictures altogether.

“You know what’s crazy? This is my first birthday without Kate in years…”

“Are you upset we didn’t invite her?” Rachel asks.

“Not really.” She shrugs. “I haven’t really missed her to tell you the truth.”

“Me neither.” You admit. “I miss the old times, but I’ve been less stressed without her in my life.”

“Agreed.” Rachel says. “Uber’s here! Let’s hit it.”

//

Niall and Harry’s phones go off at the same time. They look at each other and pause their game.

“Jesus.” Harry’s eyes pop out of his head.

“Holy hell.” Niall says looking at the pictures Sarah sent him.

Harry zooms in on the pictures best he can. You looked incredible. He wanted to tear the dress right off you.

“Mate?” Harry says with his mouth hanging open.

“Yeah?”

“She’s not wearin’ any knickers…”

“Doesn’t look like Sarah’s got a bra on either.”

“Same with Y/N…why would they do that?” Harry looks at him panicked. “I mean, look, not even any knickers!” He shoves the phone his face, but Niall pushes it back.

“Do ya really want me lookin’ at her arse?”

“Right, no, I don’t. And I don’t want anyone else to either. Why would she do this t’me?” He whines.

“To remind ya how fuckin’ lucky ya are.” Niall gets up. “Come on, we better break into the liquor instead of just beer tonight.”

“Good idea.”

//

The three of you get to Pinz, and Sarah is given a free shot and drink of her choice as the bartender sees her sash and ID. You all head to the dance floor once you have your drinks. The music was good tonight, really good. You were all laughing and singing, adding more to your Instagram stories. Niall and Harry couldn’t help but keep refreshing their feeds to see what the three of you were up to.

“They’re havin’ a lot of fun…” Harry says.

“Fuck girl’s nights. We should be allowed to show up.” Niall slurs.

“Even to just roll up and have a shag in the bathroom quick, then I’d be good.”

“Exactly! S’not askin’ too much.” He sighs. “But we can’t. I was told specifically not to show up.”

“Bullshit is what it is.” Harry slurs. How much did they drink?

You go up to the bar to grab the next round of drinks. You bump into someone by accident and apologize.

“Oh, no worries…Y/N?”

“Matt?!” You cross your arms over your chest immediately.

“Hey!”

“Hi, um, how are you?”

“Good! It’s great to see you.”

“Yeah, you too. How are things with school?”

“Good, new semester. Miss working with you all.”

“We miss you too.” You walk up closer to the bar. You lower your hands and flip your hair slightly to get the bartender’s attention.

“Whatya have gorgeous?”

“Three vodka cranberries please.” You push your boobs closer together.

“Got a tab?”

“Nah.”

“Alright, that’ll be ten bucks.”

“But that’s only-“

“Know it’s your friend’s birthday over there.” He winks at you, and you put a ten dollar bill and a couple of singles down on the bar while he makes the drinks. Matt was in awe of you.

“Come here a lot?” You ask him.

“A little yeah. We came here for my birthday like you suggested, so we come out when we can. Guys! This is Y/N!” A few of his friends look at you and their faces flush, they wave hello and you wave back.

“Alright, here ya go.” You hear the bartender say.

“Thanks so much!” You say taking the drinks.

“Get off at two by the way.” You blush and smile at him. “Just a girl’s night, but thanks.” He nods in understanding.

“Well, it was good seeing you. Have fun!” Matt and the bartender watch you walk away.

Rachel and Sarah each take a drink from you. You notice a napkin stuck to yours.

“Oh god!”

“What?” They both ask.

“The bartender gave me his phone number! What should I do? Just throw it out right??”

“Toss it on the floor!” Rachel says. And you do just that. You didn’t want to risk Harry finding anything like that.

The three of you continue to dance and pop your asses to the songs the club was playing. It was a really great time. You each have another round of vodka cranberries, courtesy of Rachel. Harry hadn’t texted you more than a kissy face since you sent him the pictures. You take out your phone and send him a drunk text.

You: having fun w ni?

Harry smirks when he sees it.

Harry: mhm, having fun with the girlies?

You: so much fun!! Miss u

Harry: miss you too baby

You: ur a cutie

Harry had a dopey smile on his face and Niall starts laughing.

“Oi, what’s so fuckin’ funny?”

“You’re so gaga over her.” He shakes his head.

“S’not a bad thing.” He pouts.

“Not at all.”

The three of you laugh and sing and are actually quite annoying in the back of the uber on the way back to Rachel and Sarah’s. The three of you set up camp in the living room with air-mattresses, blankets and pillows. Sarah uses the bathroom first to wash her face and change. You sit down and your head feels heavy. You decide to FaceTime Harry, Rachel sits next to you to get in on it.

“Oh check it out, she’s FaceTimin’ me.” He says to Niall. The two had just started a movie. “Hello?”

“Hey!”

“Hi Harry!”

“Hi girls.”

“Where’s my girl?” Niall pouts.

“Birthday girl got first dibs on the bathroom.” You explain. “Whatcha up to?”

“We just started a movie, love.”

“Ohhhh, fun. We’re gonna do that too, just waiting to wash our faces.”

“How was the bar?”

“So much fun! We danced the whole time.”

“I’ll bet. Any guys try to give yeh their number?” He jokes. Your face and Rachel’s lose all color. You both look at each other and laugh nervously. “Wait, did a guy actually try to give you their number?”

“Um…just the bartender.” Harry’s eyebrows raise. “But I didn’t even realize it! He had put a napkin with our drinks and I noticed it. I threw it right on the ground!”

“Why did he give it to you though?”

“Y/N only paid ten buck for the drinks.” Sarah giggles, sitting down with them, only in a large t-shirt. “Oh, hi Niall!”

“Hey baby!”

“You only had to pay ten dollars for three drinks?”

“Mhm.” Your face grows red. Rachel starts giggling. “Stop, you’re not helping.”

“What did you do? Why’d he discount it?”

“He said he knew it was Sarah’s birthday.” You shrug. You burst out laughing. “And I may have pushed my boobs up.” The other two start laughing.

“Y/N, that’s not fu-“

“You know what, I really need to pee. You know how I am when I really need to pee, Harry. I love you, have a fun rest of your night!” You end the call and get up to use the bathroom.

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“You cannot get mad at her, mate.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s drunk, clearly. She doesn’t know what she’s sayin’.”

“She purposefully showed off to get a discounted drinks!”

“Like you’ve never done the same thing.”

“Not while I was datin’ someone…”

“Oh Harry.” Niall shakes his head. “Please don’t make this a big deal. If I was a woman that looked like her, like any of ‘em, I’d do the same thing. Relationship or not. Don’t spoil her fun.”

“M’not.” He sighs. “You wouldn’t be mad if Sarah told you somethin’ like that.”

“It’s her birthday, she can do whatever she wants.” He shrugs.

Niall and Harry pass out on the couch, and they both wake up around three in the morning. Niall leaves and goes back home across the street while Harry sleeps in his bed alone. He imagines how lonely it must’ve been for you while he was away. He sleeps in the middle of the bed so it doesn’t feel so large without you.

//

You and the girls stay up until nearly five in the morning. You watch old movies and reminisce on your days in school together. You all pass out snuggled up together like old times. Harry woke up around eleven and you still weren’t home. No texts or anything from you. He sighs, and gets up to make some coffee. Just as he’s walking out to the kitchen, only in his boxers, he here’s your footsteps. He stands leaning against the wall of the outside of the kitchen, arms crossed waiting for you to enter.

Your hair was up in a messy bun, your sweat pants were hanging low on your hips, your dress from last night was rolled up to look like a shirt, and you had your sunglasses on. You drop your bag once you get into the living area, and you jump when you see Harry.

“Christ.” You say, pulling your sunglasses up on the top of your head.

“Fun night?”

“Mhm.” He starts chuckling. “What?”

“What are you wearin’?”

“I woke up sweaty and didn’t wanna wear my shirt home, so I put this back on, and these are your sweatpants, so they’re baggy, and I know I look ridiculous okay?” You walk towards him and go into the kitchen. He follows you. “Need coffee.” You go over to the Keurig.

“Do you remember FaceTimin’ me last night?” He asks with his arms still crossed. Yes.

“Vaguely.” You press the button on the machine after putting your favorite mug underneath.

“Do yeh remember sending me those pictures at the beginning of the night?”

“Course I do.” You turn to look at him. “I looked like a fucking stunner.” He looks down and sees your pebbling nipples through the top of your dress. You cross your arms over yourself.

“So happy everyone got to see your nips last night.”

“No one saw anything. It was dark in the club.”

“You didn’t have any knickers on.”

“And how would you know that? Easily could’ve been wearing a thong.”

“Were you?”

“No.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “You can’t wear underwear with this dress, it shows everything.”

“Why would you wear it then?”

“Because I felt like it.” The coffee finishes pouring. You go over to the fridge and grab your creamer, and pour a little in. You bring the mug to your lips and take a small sip. You sigh happily. Harry begins making his own coffee. “Did you and Niall have fun?”

“Yes.” He narrows his eyes at you.

“What?”

“Nothin’.” He takes a sip of his black coffee. “Yeh hungover?”

“No, stomach just feels gross. We drank vodka cranberries all night. Way too much sugar.”

“Need breakie?”

“No.” You giggle. “Thanks, we ate. We had some hash-browns and cheesy eggs, that’s why I’m just getting back now.” You finish up your coffee and put your mug in the sink. You yawn and stretch. “I feel like I need to sleep for like ten years.”

You leave the kitchen and start taking your clothes off as you make your way to the bedroom. You were desperate a shower. But Harry was more desperate for you. You feel him wrap his arms around you from behind. You had only taken your top off.

“You’re still not wearin’ knickers.” He says into your ear.

“Nope.” You press back against him, and you feel him growing hard.

“I missed you last night.” He whispers while nipping at your earlobe. You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your bare chest to his.

“And I bet you missed more seeing me dressed like that?” Your nose brushes against his as he nods. “My poor baby.” You rest your chin on his shoulder as you hug him closer to you. “Let me take a shower, and then I promise I’ll love on you all day.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You kiss him on the cheek and let go of him.

“I can’t shower with you?” He pouts.

“I need to, like, shave and stuff. Just ten minutes, get cozy and wait for me on the bed, okay?”

“Alright.” He sighs like you’ve denied him of the world, and gets on the bed.

You do your thing in the bathroom. You don’t need to wash your hair, so that saves a good chunk of time. Your stomach still feels like shit, but you know it’ll pass. You dry off completely and moisturize your freshly shaven legs. Usually you’re wrapped in a towel, have your robe on, or even have pj’s on after you shower. You and the girls were introduced to tik tok last night, and you kind of want to try the new challenge going around. You just hoped Harry kept his boxers on.

You grab your phone and start the video, showing the audience that you’ve dropped your towel. You open the bathroom door slowly. Harry had an arm behind his head, and the other hand was scrolling through his phone. You giggle as you open the door the rest of the way.

“Hey baby?” He looks over at you, furrowing his brows while he smiles.

“What are you doin’?” He reaches his hands out to you.

“Air drying.”

He gets up off the bed and walks towards you, picking you up, you stop your video and laugh hysterically. He puts you down on the bed, and wonders what’s so funny.

“Were you recordin’ me?”

“I won’t post it if you don’t want me to since you’re like naked.”

“Post it where?”

“Tik tok…”

“Jesus, how old are you?” He chuckles. “Dana and Julia are on that app all the time.”

“It’s actually a lot of fun. The girls and I all downloaded it last night. There’s this challenge going around for couples, so I thought I’d give it a try. Look, watch your face.” You play the video back for him and you both start laughing. “But I won’t post it if you don’t want me to.”

“S’fine, I don’t really care.” He shrugs.

You post the video and add all the hashtags, then put your phone on the night table. You turn over and rest your head on his chest. You drape your leg over his, and he pulls your thigh up closer. He rubs his hand back and forth.

“Ohh, nice and smooth.” He coos. “Not that I really care if you’re hairy.”

“So if I just stopped shaving my legs, you wouldn’t care?” You raise an eyebrow.

“You said it’s for your own comfort right? Do what yeh want. It doesn’t bother me, hair is natural.”

“How progressive of you.” You say facetiously. He looks down at you as he continues to stroke your leg.

Your hand goes up into his hair and he leans in to lightly kiss you. You kiss him back, and you both sink into it. Your mouth opens for him and his tongue slides in tasting you until your tongue meets his. You both let out soft moans. One of his hands is cupping the back of your head, the other leaves your thigh and moves up to your breast, kneading it.

You pull him on top of you, and you feel his hard cock press against your hip, as your kiss deepens even more. It wasn’t often the two of you just made out. You always really liked kissing, to have someone’s lips on yours. Harry had soft lips, always. He was good at pressing them hard against yours, always making yours puffy and swollen after. You loved the shade of his lips too, especially after kissing. They would become this raspberry color. It made you want to bite onto them even more.

Subconsciously that’s what you do. You bite his bottom lip and suck it into your mouth. He groans and grinds himself against your hip. You let go of his lip slowly, really making a show of it as you open your eyes to look up at him.

“Want you.” He says in a whisper.

“Take me.” You whisper back.

He groans again kissing you quick before tugging his boxers down his legs, and tossing them to the floor. He hovers back over you, and you put your hands on his shoulders. One of his hands reaches between your legs to make sure you’re wet. Of course you are. It doesn’t take much with him. He smirks as you spread apart for him. He lines himself up and he slowly pushes inside. You both moan at the initial contact.

Once he’s all the way in, he stays there for a moment, just savoring how your velvety walls feel around him. You tighten out of instinct, and loosen up letting him know he can move. He slowly starts to rock his hips against yours. Your head falls back against the pillow.

“Y’like that?”

“Yes.” You say with your eyes rolling back into your head.

He keeps up the same motion, just rocking in and out of you, his tip hitting your g-spot already. He picks up the pace only a little to give himself some of the friction he’s been craving, but he slows it back down for you because he knows that’s how you like it. One of his hands drops back down to rub slow, but purposeful circles on your clit.

“Ngh, Harry.” You moan softly.

One of your hands moves from his shoulder to the grasp at the hair on the nape of neck. He drops his head to the crook of your neck, kissing you softly. Your breathing was getting heavier. He could feel you starting to tighten against him in preparation for your orgasm.

“Gonna come f’me, angel?” You moan at his words, your eyes fluttering closed. “Go on, I know you can do it. Come all around my cock.” He nips at your neck, and your heels dig into the backs of his thighs.

You let out a large moan of his name, tears pricking at your eyes, and he feels you pulsate around him. He fucks you through it, not letting up on your g-spot or clit. You come really hard, and the sound in the room fills with squelching and skin slapping against skin.

“Gimme another one, come on, let’s see how many we can go for.” Your eyes pop open. You realize he still hadn’t let up on you. You start panting again.

“Harry.” You groan. It was too much. You were so sensitive.

“Don’t hold back baby, just relax. Don’t fight it.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” The way he was talking to you was sending you to another dimension. You release around him again and he groans against you, loving the way it feels.

He leans up a bit and looks down at you with a wicked grin.

“What?” You say trying to catch your breath.

“Can I hit it from the side, love?” Your eyes grow dark with lust and you nod.

He helps you turn your body with him still inside you. One of your legs going up over his shoulders, and the other staying between his own legs. He rocks into you and your back arches immediately.

“Feel good?” He smirks.

“So good.” You clutch at the blankets as he continues to rock in and out of you. “Fuck, Harry.” You grit your teeth. You reach down to rub your swollen clit.

“Jesus.” He moans watching you touch yourself.

“Harry, I…I want you back on top of me, wanna feel your weight on me, please.”

“Anything you want, angel.”

He pulls out of you only for a moment to let you adjust. Both of his eyebrows raise as he watches you flip onto your stomach. You look back at him over your shoulder.

“Go on, I’m okay. Want it this way. Just get fully on top of me. You’ve done it before.”

“Okay…but…if-“

“I promise I’ll tell if you if I’m scared.” You wiggle your butt back at him to let you know you’re getting impatient.

He uses his thumbs to spread you apart, and he lines himself up to enter you again. You feel his chest flush to your back, and he rocks into you slowly. You raise your hips slightly to slip your hand underneath yourself to rub your clit. Harry grabs your other hand with his, and you intertwine. That’s that good shit, you think to yourself. Your hands rest together by your head.

He’s getting in so deep this way, and the way he’s squeezing one of your hips just feels so good. You rub yourself a little faster, and you feel another orgasm coming on. He can feel it coming too.

“That’s it baby, come f’me again.” That was all he needed to say to make your release come. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” You pulse and vibrate around his cock. You wonder how much longer he’ll last.

You both have a pretty decent rhythm going. You push yourself back against him, and his hand moves from your hip to your ass. You squeeze tighter on the hand that’s intertwined with yours. He kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders. You arch up into him.

“I love you, Harry.” You groan.

“I love you too, so fuckin’ much. Wanna be able to look at yeh, can we do that?”

“Yes.”

He pulls out so you can flip back over. You grab back at his hand so you can continue to hold onto it. He knows you really like this. His other hand slides up your torso, feeling every inch of your smooth skin. His hand rest gently on your throat, he doesn’t even tighten around you, he just wants it there. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you. He thrusts in deep and stay there so you can grind against him.

“Harry.” You moan. You were overly sensitive at this point, but he was so rock hard inside you, it felt amazing.

“C’mon baby, show me how you do it.”

You nails from your free hand dig into his bicep as your fourth release comes out in waves.

“Shit! Fuck!” You scream. You were completely drenched in sweat now. You felt like you were going to need another shower. “Harry, please.”

“Not done with yeh yet, my love.” You look up at him. What the hell was he trying to do to you? He kisses you hard as he moves his hips in circles.

“Mother of fuck!” You gasp.

“Yeah, you like it when I do that, huh?” You nod your head yes as he continues you stretching you out like this.

You’re down for the count when you feel your legs start to shake again and your back arches fully off the bed. He smirks watching your body writhe underneath him.

“Harry.” You breathe. “It’s too much.”

“Want me to come now?”

“Yes, please. Fill me up.”

He grins at you and squeezes tightly on your hand as he thrusts in and out of you. It doesn’t take much for him to come. The warmth from it all feels incredible. He pulls out once he’s done, and collapses next to you. Your mouth hangs open as you look at him. Your legs felt like jello. It was some intense love making to say the least.

“What was that all about?” You say, reaching for him. He lays his head on your chest.

“Just something maybe you’ll keep in the back of your head next time you flirt with some bartender to get free drinks.” He looks up at you with a smirk, and your jaw drops farther.

Oh he was good, really good. He was telling the truth when he said he missed you. But he didn’t want to make you come over and over just because you both were in a lovey mood. No, he wanted to teach you a lesson. To remind you he was always there, no matter what. That he was the only one worth giving the time of day to. That he was the only one that was ever going to make you feel this way. Well played Mr. Styles, well played.

[marvels-writings]

It’s Just a Little Crush

Carol Danvers x Reader, Highschool AU

Requested by Anon: Can I request a carol x reader highshool fic where carol is the cool girl who has a huge crush on the reader the shy reserved girl. Her friends (the avengers) always tease her about her crush and put her in situations where she has to interact with her crush. Despite being the cool girl she gets so flustered around her crush and doesn’t know how to act normal, she’s pretty sure she’s in love and she had barely had a full conversation with her. Please make it as fluffy and romantic as possible.

Word Count: 1,532

A/N: Love highschool AU’s, here you go!

“I swear to god I hate algebra.” Carol groaned, slamming her head down on the desk, the sleeves of her letterman jacket scratching her face a little.

Her friends next to her laughed at her behavior before continuing on their homework. Natasha elbowed Carol’s side and she looked up at the redhead with a frown.

“What?” Carol whined, Natasha smirked, which was never a good sign.

“Your crush is walking over here,” Natasha commented, then pretended to get back to her work.

“And why would she do that?” Carol whispered urgently, trying to act normal and glaring at Natasha while fixing her jacket and brushing off her leggings, fixing her short hair and pulling out a few strands to dangle in front of her eyes before nervously pushing them back.

“Because Clint is calling her over.” Natasha winked at the blonde and got back to her algebra paper.

Before Carol could say anything back to Natasha, you walked over to her and asked the redhead if she needed any help, since Clint had practically been begging you for help earlier. Natasha grinned at you and said she didn’t, but Carol might.

“You really should move to our table, Carol’s hopeless at math,” Natasha remarked, you laughed as Carol elbowed her side lightly, subtly looking at you.

You wore a grey cardigan, a fav/color v-neck t-shirt, smoke grey ripped jeans, and black puma shoes. It was a simple outfit, but it looked gorgeous on you, your hair was let down, the soft hair/color hair falling onto your shoulders.

“That hopeless?” You asked, a shy smile on your face, Natasha nodded and lifted Carol’s paper to show you.

“It’s blank.” You commented the blonde glared at Natasha behind the paper before she set it down.

“Point in case, Clint already dragged your chair over here anyway.” Natasha shrugged, you turned around to find your bag slung on the back of a chair which was set up right behind you, you laughed and sat down, leaning over the desk to help Carol.

“Well, the first question isn’t that bad.” You said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and leaning back in your chair to look at Carol who looked completely stunned.

“Do you want me to give you the answers or explain it?” You asked Natasha leaned back in her chair, her head popping up behind Carol’s shoulder.

“If you explain it she might not need to copy the answers from us later.” She gestured to the rest of the team behind her, you laughed and went back to the paper, burying one hand in your hair and pointing the pencil to some of the numbers while explaining.

Carol was half focusing on what you were saying, most of her attention was on the way you bit your lip when you concentrated, the small strands of hair falling in your face which you kept pushing back, how you smiled and the way your eyes sparkled when you figured out the answer. You asked her in the middle of your explanation if she was understanding, Carol nodded, but at the end when you asked her what the answer was after explaining, she had no idea.

You raised an eyebrow, “You’re serious? I just explained it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just not that great at math,” Carrol confessed, rubbing her neck bashfully, you rolled your eyes and started explaining again when the bell cut you off.

“Next time then.” You sighed, moving to pack up your things and put the chair back, Carol couldn’t help but be disappointed when you left.

“Y/n, you should come with us,” Tony shouted from across the room, you turned to face him, your bag slung over your shoulder.

“Really? But I told Peter I’d go get a bite with him.” You answered, walking out of the classroom doors with them.

“Peter said he was planning to hang out with us after, might as well come,” Natasha stated, smirking when she saw Carol’s blush.

“Might as well.” You shrugged nervously, biting the inside of your cheek and inhaling sharply as you followed them towards their lockers.

Their group was one of the most popular on campus, they called themselves the Avengers, Peter hung out with Tony a lot and invited you sometimes. You mainly knew them because you let them copy your work often and because Carol tried to talk to you often. But you’d never really been invited to hang out with them before, you mostly opted to talk with Ned and MJ.

Once they got to their lockers, Peter joined you and clapped you on the back while grinning and eating a burrito. Tony pulled out a speaker out of nowhere and started plugging it in with Peter’s help, ‘Crush’ by Jennifer Paige started playing through the speakers.

“This song is so old,” Carol muttered, leaning back against one of the lockers, you stood next to her, nervously fidgeting with your hands.

“It’s a classic, the remix by Campsite Dream is also decent.” You thought aloud, you and Carol started talking about music when you Tony started playing ‘Iron Man’ by Black Sabbath.

“I seriously doubt it’s worse than this,” Carol commented, gesturing to the speakers, Tony glared at her before backing away.

“Bet,” You grinned and went towards the speakers, finding the song you’d just mentioned before playing it.

Tony frowned when you changed the song, but it transformed into a grin when he realized what song you were playing. Peter recognized it instantly, the rest of the group took a few seconds to realize but smirked when they recognized the song. You shyly smirked and blew a kiss to Carol before increasing the volume

‘See you blowin' me a kiss

It doesn't take a scientist

To understand what's goin' on baby’

Carol blushed and shrunk into the lockers, pulling her letterman jacket around herself. You were about to leave to put your things in your locker but Natasha stopped you, demanding that you stay and talk to Carol. You complained about the cold a little, pulling your cardigan tighter around yourself.

‘If you see something in my eye

Let's not over analyze

Don't go too deep with it baby’

Carol noticed how cold you were and shrugged off her jacket to reveal a white NIN t-shirt under it, offering you the jacket with a bit of hope in her eyes. You looked at her but shrugged and accepted the jacket, taking off your cardigan and shoving it inside your bag before putting on her jacket and tugging it around yourself, it smelt amazing.

‘So let it be

What it'll be

Don't make a fuss and go crazy over you and me’

The rest of the break was left with both of you talking while the music played softly in the background, Carol said the vocals were a bit choppy but the music itself was pretty good. Though she wouldn’t admit it, this was the first decent conversation she had with you. She couldn’t help but smile the entire conversation at the sight of you wearing her jacket.

‘Here's what I'll do

I'll play the wuss, not like we have a date with destiny’

Natasha noticed both of you and whispered something to Wanda, the brunette grinned at her and headed over to both of you, changing the conversation.

“Are you both free on Friday at 7?” She asked, you shrugged and nodded, Carol did the same, a light frown ghosting her face.

“Good, enjoy your date!” She said, grinning and walking off.

“Did she just…” You trailed off, Carol’s face was a bright red when she turned to face you, stuttering over her words before moving to chase after Wanda, when you stopped her by her wrist.

“If you want to, you don’t need to stop her.” You said softly, Carol’s eyes widened and she grinned at you, moving to lean back against the lockers, heart beating fast when she noticed you hadn’t let go of her wrist yet.

‘It's just

A little crush

Not like I faint, every time we touch’

Carol swore her heart was going to beat out of her chest when you motioned for her to sit down, still holding her hand. The blonde gently put her hand on top of yours as you nervously played with her fingers while talking about how boring the math teacher was.

‘It's just some little thing

Not like everything I do

Depends on you’

The bell rang, you got up and moved to take the jacket off and give it back to Carol when she stopped you.

“Just wear it, I don’t have practice anyway, do you want to hang out after school?” Carol asked hesitantly, hazel eyes staring at the floor nervously.

“I’d love to.” You grinned at her, tucking a strand of her short hair back into place before walking towards your next class, leaving Carol staring.

She made a mental note to cancel her practice later on, you were more than just a little crush

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart  , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

A/N: Thoughts?

[whindsor]

a small headcannon for Ariana, my oc from my 12 monkeys fic; while everyone finds jennifer goines obnoxious and thinks she doesn’t make sense, Ariana adores her and tries to understand jennifer’s ramblings!

YES I LOVE IT. tbh i never understood why jennifer drove them all crazy, but that’s also probably because i was sitting on my couch and not trying to time travel to save the world.

send me literally any and all headcanons

[summerdutkowsky]

12 and 27

12: (truth) What are your five favorite girls’ names and five favorite boys’ names? (dare) Copy and paste the 14th line of text from the last document you worked on in Word or Google Drive.

‘Sherolled over, expecting to find her bedmate in an equally state of annoyance, ifanyone annoyed quickly it was Jennifer Goines, but to add to her displeasureshe found that side of the bed empty and cold.’

from a frustratingly unfinished 12 Monkeys fic that i chip away at whenever i can’t sleep

17: (truth) Where is the last place you went that took over two hours to get to? (dare) Post screenshots of your phone’s lock screen and home screen.

that’s the weakest truth so i’ll answer both. took a roadtrip last october and literally every place we went took more than two hours to get to: buffalo to nyc. nyc to baltimore. baltimore to alabama (to see my gf). alabama to nashville. nashville back to buffalo. i wanted death

lockscreen: me and my idol brittany holljes from delta rae. met her before their concert in october and she wanted pics with me because of my shirt and talked to me like we were old friends. remembered me from tweets and found me after the show to take more pics

home screen: my favorite queen katherine howard from my favorite musical six during her very intense solo song

[samiholloway]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 12 Monkeys (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Deacon/Jennifer Goines Characters: Deacon (12 Monkeys), Jennifer Goines Additional Tags: Fluff, Books, Roadtrips, i had a headcanon i wanted to make into a thing, weekly fic project 2017, 12 monkeys season 3, jenncon Series: Part 11 of Weekly Fic Project 2017 Summary:

Jones tasks Deacon with getting books for Olivia, and sends Jennifer with him.

I meant to start a thing, like one paragraph, and then go take a shower...and accidentally wrote almost 1500 words. 

[jezzula]

Always and Forever: Prologue

Description: Reader is named Jennifer Turner, a young girl in her mid-20s from a rural town in the American south (read with your best Southern accent). After being drafted into SHIELD by agent Peggy Carter, Jen’s life is turned upside down when she meets James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers in the United States Army, as they begin their assault on Nazi Germany in WW2. Seventy years later, she wakes up alongside Captain America. This is her story.

Summary: Jen reflects back on how she ended up in Wakanda with Captain America by her side after being born in the 1920s, and serving as an agent for SHIELD during WW2. She flashes back to where it all began, a small farm in the American south with her two older brothers, Anthony and Ethan. 

I’m trying to keep this close to canon time-wise and event-wise. Bear with me for historic inaccuracies :).

Characters: Jennifer Turner (reader, original fictional character), Steve Rogers (modern), Anthony and Ethan Turner (older brothers of reader [kinda based some of their characteristics off of Sam and Dean Winchester oops], OFCs), unnamed father (OFC).

Pairings: None this chapter

TW: Implied past physical abuse (no description except that there’s bruising), implied past and current emotional abuse (minimal descripton), military enlistment?, that’s it I think? Let me know if there’s more!

A/N: Yikes!! This is my first ever fic on Tumblr and I’m actually super excited about it?? Tags at the bottom are blogs whose writing I admire, or they’re a Marvel/Bucky blog I adore. Feedback is totally welcome, just try and be gentle with me, as it’s my first go at writing and having other people read it.  Double lines indicate a transition between current (2000s) and past (1940s) events, single lines between scene changes.

Modern Day: Imagine it at the very end of Civil War, after Bucky has been frozen in Wakanda

“God Jenny. How did we get here?”

I glanced over into his tired blue eyes, sighing heavily. I was too exhausted to be angry at him anymore. I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. 

“I don’t know Steve,” I whispered, eyes burning with tears, “I just don’t know.”

It was true. I didn’t know. I had no idea how I went from being a young farmgirl from the South, having barely survived the Depression, to standing next to Captain America 70 years after the War. I don’t know how I am able to stand in an infirmary in Wakanda, staring at yet another cryo-chamber, the frozen face of the man I loved buried inside.

I have no idea how I ended up here. But I know where it all started.

Pre-War 40s: Currently pre-serum Steve though neither he nor Bucky is mentioned in this part, you haven’t met them yet :) Read with Southern accents!

I woke up to the sound of my father screaming. Here we go again, I thought. Yellin’ is not necessarily an unfamiliar sound to wake up to, though today’s seems different. 

It’s not directed at me, I think again, frowning in my sleep. That’s new.

I decide to tune in, and hear who was facing Pa’s wrath. 

“WHAT IN THE HELL YOU MEAN YOU ENLISTED ANTHONY?”

No God. Please no Anthony, please God tell me he didn’t.

“I mean exactly that Pop. America is goin’ to war, and I’ll be damned if I ain’t goin’ with her.”

My heart sinks in my chest. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe and I can’t talk. Tears fill my eyes and suddenly I can’t see anymore either. My body cannot function properly anymore. All I can do is cry and pray to God that this is all a nightmare.

I hear a gentle knock at the door, and my brother Ethan slowly pushes into my bedroom. “Jenny honey? Are you hearin’ this?”

I nod and let out a sob, the tears rushing faster down my face. He’s across the room in 3 steps, his long legs carrying him to me, and his long arms wrapping around my shuddering frame, holding me close. 

“Hey, hey, shhh it’s gonna be alright,” he soothes. “I’ll still be here. We can still get out of here even without Anthony. I’ll protect you til we can make it up to New York. I’ll look out for you as best as I can, I promise.”

“And who’s gonna look out for you Ethan? How are we gonna get the money? Pa won’t let me get a job, and at the rate you’re goin’, it’ll take us twenty years to get enough money to get to New York!”

I’m getting more hysterical by the second. By the end of my panicked rampage, I am almost screaming. Almost drowning out my father cursing out my brother below. 

“We’ll be ok Jen. We’ll be ok until we can get out of here. All three of us are gonna get out of here, one way or another.”

All I can do at this point is nod again, burying my face into my big brother’s chest.

Our parents had beaten us since we were little. But once the boys got to high school, they started fighting back. Then they started to fight for me cause I was still so young. The three of us always had each other’s backs. Anthony was the oldest, so he became our new father in many ways. He swore to us that he would never let either of our parents lay a hand on us ever again. And once he made that vow, he kept it to us. I never went to school with another bruise from my father. But even Anthony couldn’t make em stop talkin’.

Ethan is the middle kid. The more sensitive one. He fought too, make no mistake. He was right there with Anthony, the night of The Fight. Matching him blow for blow. But Ethan was always the one I would run to cryin’ after my daddy had called me an ugly, worthless, little whore. Ethan was always the soother.

We had been planning for years to get out. All three of us. Together, always and forever. Once I graduated high school, the boys started seriously talkin’ about gettin’ us out of there. Savin’ up enough money for food and gas to get out of the state, and eventually up to New York. 

My brothers are smart. Anthony worked himself through college, and Ethan’s workin’ right now. They’ll have the education, and certainly the work ethic to get good jobs and take care of us in the city. If we ever get there.

But now, with Anthony leaving, I don’t know what we’re going to do. I don’t know how we’re going to get there. I don’t know where I’m going to end up. But dammit.... we’re getting out of here. One way or another. 

Hope you liked this little prologue! Please let me know what you think! :)

@mar-gega @thatawkwardtinyperson @bovaria @itshiddleskittles @kit-kat-coffeeworld

If any of y’all do or don’t want to be tagged let me know! :)

[mousymissmousy]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 12 Monkeys (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Deacon/Jennifer Goines Characters: Deacon (12 Monkeys), Jennifer Goines Additional Tags: kinda angsty, Requested, fluff to i guess?, jenncon, jennifer x deacon, weekly fic project 2017 Series: Part 14 of Weekly Fic Project 2017 Summary:

Deacon deals with what he did and then Jennifer comes back.

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

a primary walks into a bar...

jennifer x deacon, 12 monkeys. also on ao3.

the first fic i drafted for these two, just a bit of fun set immediately post-canon. jennifer POV. 

(i’ve decided to embrace imperfections instead of holding onto my stories for these two until i feel better acquainted with them. if my later fics are more in character, then at least i’ll have written more fics, which is a net positive.)

“I don’t want to forget the past.” She tried to press meaning into every syllable, tried to gift him their history in code, if only it were possible. “I want to keep the past.”

He nodded, still leaned in close, like he actually cared about what she had to say. Excellent customer service. Five stars, above and beyond.

“But I’m not here to remember it, either. I don’t need a bar, or a drink, for that.” Jennifer grinned at him, the unbalanced scales of her smile a contrast to the sharp edges of his. “I just wish I could do it over again.”

“Don’t we all.” He glanced at the door when the bell above it rang. A new customer, somebody else to focus on, to cater to. He was good at this, Jennifer thought, the way she had every night she visited. It suited him, this destiny, the one he was always meant to have.

Just sucked that hers was meant to be so separate from his.

“But I guess until somebody invents time travel, we’re all stuck with the lives we’ve got, huh?” Deacon asked, and Jennifer’s eyes snapped to his, searching.

What was a Primary, once Time wasn’t broken anymore?

Jennifer could still see it, see it all: how things fit together, how they should run. But now things ran as they should. Parallel tracks, a train she didn’t have to fall in front of. Time didn’t need her, to hold itself together or to make sense.

Nobody needed her, now that the world was saved.

When Time rewound and she waited on that beach for Cole, salt in the air and her lungs, sun making it stick to her skin...most of her was just grateful she could finally rest. Take a breath on the beach. Close her eyes against the sun. Feel what Time was like when it didn’t need her so much.

She was free.

Freedom was lonely. 

People who couldn’t see Time’s motions, those people were leading singular ordinary lives. Though she could visit Cassie and Cole in their happy after, it wasn’t her life to share.

And the small part of Jennifer that missed Deacon, a man who was now a boy who didn’t know her, again--she could live with that part. She could console that part the way she consoled her lonely Daughters when they needed it. This mood will pass, you are better off as you are, everything is as it should be.

So she waited. 

She lived her life.

Jennifer Goines--genius CEO girlboss--had better things to do than spend decades wishing for a reunion with one guy.

She monitored his budding business because she had time to spare, Jennifer told herself. Not because she wanted to see him. Certainly not because she needed to. That cat dying of curiosity was an awfully convenient explanation anyway.

But the need was there. Ignoring it didn’t lessen it--made it worse, in fact. A new voice in her head, one that didn’t sound like her at all, but also not like a Primary calling out across time. 

Just a voice inside, saying, go to him. Saying, it doesn’t matter if he can’t see it, if he doesn’t know you now. 

Go, and there you’ll find home.

************************************

“Forget or remember?”

Jennifer blinked. Time kept on ticking. 

“What?”

It was Deacon asking, and she’d heard him, but her mind had been elsewhere before he spoke. Other than taking her order when she sat down at the bar, he hadn’t spoken to her all night.

Not like she expected him to; not like she was there at Brothers Deacon waiting for long heart-to-hearts with a guy who didn’t know her.

We saved the world together, she thought whenever he looked her way. Sometimes she yelled it internally, raising a voice only she could hear. We saved them all, together, you were there! And now you don’t even know my name.

“Are you drinking to forget, or to remember?” Deacon tried again, more slowly. “I like to ask. I always wonder.”

It was a slow Tuesday evening, which might explain his stab at conversation. Maybe he was curious because she’d come in every night that week--staking her claim as a new regular. An irregular regular, she thought with a snort. 

The other days, he’d left her alone, letting her people-watch and laugh at her own jokes. But now, he noticed her, turning her world around just like he did the first time. 

He was the only one who ever had, who saw her as a person-not-Primary and deemed her worthy of notice. In another life, Jennifer reminded herself, tugging her focus back to this one. 

“Do people drink to remember?” She considered that concept. Not one she’d thought about before, but it sounded plausible. Like the first time she saw a unicorn and thought, I believe it. If that’s not real it should be. Then, of course, it was. Good times.

Deacon offered her an easy grin, relaxed against the bar like they had all the time in the world for a philosophical discussion. There was an intimacy to it that Jennifer wanted to believe came from experience--that some piece of Deacon was linked to some piece of her, no matter what Time had to say about it. 

“Sure they do. Haven’t you ever missed somebody?” 

“Yes.” You, she told him with her eyes. His were mirrors reflecting back; she couldn’t tell if the reflection was one-way. Wrong room for an interrogation. Even worse for ballet. 

She had taken ballet classes as a little girl--Mother’s idea, of course. The funhouse mirrors never blinked, always staring, staring with their watchful eyes. Jennifer switched to tap.

“Well, I can tell you, as a proprietor of this fine establishment, lots of people find it a little bit easier...a little less painful...to lubricate the process. You want to forget the past, you get blind drunk until you can barely stumble home from here. You want to remember it, you nurse rounds slowly; you savor.”

Deacon grinned at her again, that slice of a smile she could feel down to her toes. “I keep myself entertained when it’s not busy, trying to guess which customers are which. Most people are easy, but you--I’m still trying to figure it out.”

She laughed. “Easy is definitely not a word that’s often applied to me.”

All the words that had been still lived inside her like brands, burning hot and painful even then. Murderer. Crazy. Fool. Once upon a time he gave her better ones, ones that sparkled. Sorry. Purpose. Take it.

Deacon didn’t know that, though. She could keep his words in her pockets like gifts but he was not the giver. Jennifer shook her head, cleared it of the past-future. Never was, in this reality.

“Wanna give me a hint?” Theodore of the Brothers Deacon asked, shifting closer so his elbows were resting on the clean bar.

Call it wishful thinking--wouldn’t be the first time, she remembered a pair of otter eyes and a head full of lies--but it almost felt flirtatious, the way he was looking at her and waiting to see what she said.

The tragedy of time was that when they were walking parallel lines, he just kept dying--and now that the world was saved, her line was thirty years too late. Didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little fun, Jennifer decided. If Deacon had a thing for older women, who was she to argue?

So she curled her fingers into her palms, roots into the earth grounding her where she sat, and told the truth. Wrapped her lips around the words like Jennifer would wrap herself around Deacon again, if she could go back. Time is a snake that only moves forward; no going back, not anymore.

“I don’t want to forget the past.” She tried to press meaning into every syllable, tried to gift him their history in code, if only it were possible. “I want to keep the past.”

He nodded, still leaned in close, like he actually cared about what she had to say. Excellent customer service. Five stars, above and beyond.

“But I’m not here to remember it, either. I don’t need a bar, or a drink, for that.” Jennifer grinned at him, the unbalanced scales of her smile a contrast to the sharp edges of his. “I just wish I could do it over again.”

“Don’t we all.” He glanced at the door when the bell above it rang. A new customer, somebody else to focus on, to cater to. He was good at this, Jennifer thought, the way she had every night she visited. It suited him, this destiny, the one he was always meant to have.

Just sucked that hers was meant to be so separate from his.

“But I guess until somebody invents time travel, we’re all stuck with the lives we’ve got, huh?” Deacon asked, and Jennifer’s eyes snapped to his, searching.

Too good to be true, too easy to hope. Somewhere in there, she wanted to see the man she used to believe in, the one she believed loved her a little.

A little was everything, compared to what she’d had before.

So Jennifer knew better than to believe her lying hopeful heart, coming here to drink and pass the hours and cross her fingers in case today was the day time unfurled again and they’d have to team back up to fix it.

Cole and Cassie were out of the pool, they got their happy future and it was where Time needed them to stay...so if anybody was gonna be called to new adventures, it might as well be her. And if anything else was going to be asked of her, there was no one she would trust by her side more than Deacon.

Excuses, really. It’d been thirty years, and Time was still ticking along, no hiccups. 

And while those two had landed a little bit outside of Time, just enough to remember what happened, most people only seemed to have room for one reality in their heads. Nothing felt more lonely than being Primary in a world where Jones and Hannah didn’t know her...except maybe being Primary in this bar, missing Deacon while he was three feet away.

“Yep,” she told him with a hollow laugh. It was just a coincidence, his comment. She could find needles anywhere with a big enough magnet. What did that prove to the haystack? “I guess we’re all stuck.”

He was already shifting his weight in the direction of the guy who came through the door, ready to move on to other business, but Deacon paused long enough to aim that smile at her a final time.

“How about the next round’s on me.” Well, now. He’d certainly never done that before, offered to pay for her beer.

First time for everything, she thought, wondering what had gotten into him that made the day different from other days. Frequent drinker program nobody told her about? Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to complain. 

Deacon passed the drink to her before crossing to the other side of the bar, tossing his last words over his shoulder--she could barely hear them above the music that filled the space. In every reality, he was still stuck in the 80s.

“Let me know if you need me for anything else, ma’am.”

A part of her bristled at the end of that sentence, annoyed by the way strangers treated her these days with extra years sketched on her face. Everybody likes a good chicken, until it clucks for itself. 

She couldn’t take it personally coming from him, though, Jennifer decided. After all, Deacon called her ma’am when she was his own age, when he barely knew her yet.

Wait.

Something about his use of the word, the glint in his eyes, the ease of his handing her a pint. It tripped that fucking hope again, and she couldn’t help it, her eyes followed him as he worked down the other end of the bar.

Taking folded bills from the new guy, pouring him a shot, then another. Polishing a glass while New Guy knocked them back, nodding when he held up a finger.

Deacon served the only other person sitting in front of him, and Jennifer wondered how long it would take for him to head back in her direction. Would she be able to see it, if there was something in his eyes? Was there any difference in the way he carried himself, now that he wasn’t carrying a lifetime of scars? 

Her head was a magic eight ball brimming with questions, like always. Shake it, you get answers. Or ask again later, seventeen times in a row ‘til you want to smash it against the wall and make the truth come out.

From her vantage point on the stool she couldn’t make guesses about his eyes, and he moved like always--coiled energy, potential for danger. Indoors in winter, nobody but Deacon could list his own scars.

New Guy was talking to him about a football game, and Deacon was making engaged listening noises, though it was obvious he didn’t really care.

She should have known better, of course, Jennifer scolded herself later. Time wasted looking for hints, subtle traces. Of all the things Theodore Deacon is-was-will-forever-be, subtle never made it onto the list.

His customer was a quick drunk--looking to forget, she thought with a twitch of her lips--and he required the barest show of interest. Deacon’s volume grew alongside his, their discussion more spirited, and her eyes were starting to glaze over. 

But Jennifer was still facing their way, and in the end it didn’t matter that she wasn’t actively listening. When it came to Deacon, she was pretty sure she could hear him in a hurricane. 

She could hear him even when he was silent. He was the hurricane.

After he slid New Guy another shot, Deacon glanced Jennifer’s way. His carelessly friendly expression faded, replaced by an unblinking intensity.

The bar wasn’t packed, but it held noise and people enough to entertain her on a slow night. She shouldn’t have been able to sense the room closing in, a narrowing tunnel and a ringing in her ears. 

Among the noise and the oblivious customers, Deacon was staring at her like they were the only two people left on Earth, and Jennifer felt the kind of shiver she hadn’t in thirty years, because nobody looked at her that way anymore. 

Nobody else ever had, swallowing hard across a table like his words were bees that would sting them both if they escaped. Jennifer wasn’t allergic to bees; she still wondered what they might have spelled out in the sky if he’d let them fly.

Sometimes after Time took what it was owed, it gave a little something back. She’d assumed that gift was reserved for Cole alone, but maybe Time had generosity left for its favorite cog in the wheel. Maybe it took pity on her fall from Primary grace to ordinary human living on a barstool. 

The reason didn’t really matter, did it? Not when the horse was there, to keep its mouth closed and unexamined?

Sometimes, Jennifer remembered as Deacon’s eyes stayed on hers, Time understood that it owed you, too. 

She’d already set her drink down, knew her mouth was gaping a little, didn’t care if she looked like a moron. Deacon tipped back his own beer before he smiled at her again, and she let the shiver repeat, run through her. 

Maybe hope wasn’t dead, a man on his knees in a crowd filled with blades. Maybe hope had been hibernating.

Deacon pointed at her beer, raised his eyebrows like he was asking if she wanted another, and she nodded, answering whatever question might’ve been buried beneath that one.

He took his time getting to her with it, dusting off a shelf and straightening a handful of vodka bottles along the way.

“Here you go,” he said when he arrived, the click of his tongue a punctuation mark and a memory.

Deacon set the fresh beer down in front of her, leaned against the back wall of his bar, and winked.

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

🌹

this line of jennifer dialogue should belong in my ‘stolen moments in canon’ WIP for 12 monkeys, but i’m not sure yet. it might end up in another WIP instead.

“Scientifically unsound bullshit. Platelets and hemoglobin are in blood. Hate isn’t. Love isn’t. Learned behavior, now that’s science. Could build a case from that. Put us in a courtroom, your honor, we’ve got the charts.”

for every "🌹" received in my inbox i'll post one random sentence of a random WIP i'm currently writing

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

just found out that 12 monkeys the show has less fics on ao3 than one day at a time does! congrats, me, you’ve found another tiny fandom where your otp’s specific fics number barely a dozen as you arrive in it. you are NOT ALLOWED to take over their ao3 category and play, do you hear me, me??? not until AFTER november. 

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

Last Seven Lines

Tagged by @prodigalleverage, thanks!  Posting more than just one last line is fun, it feels like it’ll have more context and make more sense this way.

All I’m doing is drafting disconnected snippets for my 12 Monkeys ideas right now, so this hasn’t been polished, it’s from last night’s update.

“I didn’t like how he was talking to you--like you weren’t even a person, let alone his kid. My father was like that. He didn’t have much in common with yours, but they were both assholes.”

Deacon set his book aside, rolled up his sleeve. Jennifer made a low humming sound at the sight of his scars, her fingers reaching out to hover over them.

She pulled back without touching, at the last second.

“Daddy never beat me up,” she said instead. “All my scars? Emotional.”

I feel like I always list the same folks for writing games, so anybody who writes and wants to do this one--please say I tagged you and go for it!