Cillian being expressive on the set of Dunkirk, July 28 2016. And exciting Dunkirk news! Confirmation that a 1 minute teaser trailer is attached to Suicide Squad which opens this week. The trailer will likely be online by Thursday.
a/n: You all have been so patient and I know I’m a bit late (4 months late soz about that). Every single one of you have been so amazing with the support of this, and it blows my mind every time I get a notification that TiC got another note. And when I posted earlier today that I was posting it, I absolutely loved the response I got in my inbox. It made my heart incredibly happy and with each message that came in, not gonna lie, i teared up a bit. You all have been so lovely and good sports (especially when i posted that fake TiC2 WHAT A TIME). So from the bottom of my heart, thank you for all the support. I have met some of the most incredible people through TiC and I cherish every single one of you. I feel so emotional posting this, but you all finally deserve the second part to probably the most angsty piece I have ever written (and will ever write omg). So, please enjoy the second and final installment to Trouble in Canada :)
THANK YA TO MY LOVELY @whitechocolateperfection for reading over this and giving me confidence :) you’re the best and i love you a whole lot
Those four words held a weight so heavy that you lost your grip on your tea. Your mug dropped to the floor, shattering in pieces and tea spilling all over the hardwood floor. You immediately went to pick up the broken pieces. On your knees, you picked up the shards of glass as Shawn was stood in the same exact position; not moving a single bone in his body to help you.
Collecting all the tiny shards in your hand you swiftly moved past Shawn to go throw the pieces out in the kitchen. You opened the trash bin, and right as you were about to throw out the broken mug, Shawn’s voice interrupted your movements, “Is that the mug I got you? The one from our first Valentine’s day together?”
Request from Anonymous: Can you please do one where the missus sees proof that Harry is cheating on her and he doesn’t have his wedding ring on but he doesn’t fess up to it so then she doesn’t wear her rings anymore and then Harry notices and his heart starts to race and asks her why she doesn’t wear them anymore and she tells him something like, “you weren’t wearing them the night you decided to throw our marriage away” you decide the ending :) xx
Three years. It took three years for their marriage to fall apart. It took three years for their happy bubble to pop. It took three years until one of them could no longer remain loyal to the other. She didn’t know how it happened. She didn’t know what she did to have her husband cheat on her with another woman. To have him remove his wedding ring from his finger. The ring that was slid on his finger the day they both promised each other that they’d remain faithful to one another. The ring that represented their love and promise that they’d stick by each other’s side in any problem.
The past three years of their marriage was filled with so much love and happiness. Sure, there were arguments here and there, but that was normal. They were happy and then all of a sudden they weren’t.
Y/N started noticing her husband become distant. He’d come home more late than usual, missing out on dinner. He no longer talks to her properly like he use to. She’d ask him something and he’d give her short answers, trying to avoid conversations. He no longer kissed her good morning or a goodnight and even if he did, they were no longer on the lips. They haven’t had sex in weeks, Harry always claiming that he was too tired.
Y/N also noticed that when she told Harry I love you before he left for work this morning, he didn’t say it back. And that’s what hurt the most.
There was a heap of laundry that needed to be cleaned so Y/N was currently in the laundry room, sorting out the dark and light colors. She reaches her hands into any pocket’s of the clothes, making sure nothing was there. When she put her hands in the pocket of one of Harry’s jackets, she feels a crumbled up paper inside. She pulls it out, thinking it was an receipt but her eyebrows knit together when sees that it was a note. Her eyes go wide when she reads over the words on the paper.
That was fun. Maybe we should do it again. Call me sometimes ;)
And at the bottom of the note was written an anonymous phone number. Y/N feels her throat become tight, her stomach churning at the thought of her husband sleeping with another woman. He couldn’t have been cheating. He wouldn’t do that. Harry himself said that cheating is one of the most vile things a man can do.
So why did Y/N find a note like this in the pocket of his jacket?
She didn’t want to believe that her own husband was cheating on her. The man who promised her, in his vows, that he’d remain faithful and loyal to her. This note has to be something else. She couldn’t bring herself to decide that he was cheating on her.
She crumples up the note in her fist but doesn’t throw it away. She puts it into the small pocket of her pants before going back to the laundry and trying to ignore the burning sensation of the paper.
She wasn’t going to ask him what it was.
It’s been a few days later since Y/N found the note. This time, she can smell her everywhere. The other day Harry came home drunk and when she gave him a hug which he half halfheartedly returned, she smelled the floral perfume on his neck. She felt the salt water burn her eyes but she didn’t say anything. She also didn’t say anything when she noticed the mark on his neck and his wedding ring from his finger.
Harry didn’t notice the heartbroken look on Y/N’s face when she noticed he was no longer wearing his wedding band. He didn’t notice the tears that were built up in her eyes because he was so fucking drunk.
“’M so drunk,” Harry mumbles as Y/N helps him out of his jeans quietly, ignoring the nonsense chatter spilling from Harry’s mouth..
“Go to sleep,” is all she says, caressing his hair before turning off the lamp. She goes to lay on her side of the bed, her back facing him. Her thoughts are consumed with images of Harry and another woman kissing. The woman marking his skin. The woman giving him pleasure in ways she hasn’t in a while. Why didn’t Harry want her anymore? Has he become bored with her? Is this woman prettier than her? Is that why he’s cheating on her?
She was immediately snapped out of her thoughts when she felt arms wrap around her stomach, a nose nuzzling into her neck. Y/N swallows the large lump in her throat and she brings her hand up to cover her mouth as she lets out a quiet sob while Harry sleeps. The tears finally stream down her face when she realizes that it was over. Their marriage was over. The moment Harry decided to sleep with another woman was when he threw away their marriage and broke all of the promises he made to her.
And in that night, she didn’t get a wink of sleep.
It’s been two days since Y/N found out Harry was cheating on her. He no longer wears the silver wedding band, thinking that Y/N doesn’t notice. He smiles down at his phone whenever he’s texting and when Y/N asks why he laughs, he’d mumble, “S’nothing. Just somethin’ Jeff said.” And with that he’d leave the room, no longer wanting to talk to her.
Y/N no longer wears her wedding ring either. The night Harry came home drunk, drenched in another woman’s perfume and a bare ring finger, she decided it was the last straw. She wonders if Harry noticed her not wearing the ring either. He probably didn’t considering he doesn’t stay at home anymore.
It was around seven in the evening, Y/N was cooking herself dinner in their large kitchen. Harry was out as always. Her ears perk up when she hears he front door shut. Why was he home so early? Her heart starts to race when she hears his voice talking to someone. She could hear him in the foyer, his voice talking lowly to the person on the phone.
“Yes,” He chuckles, “’ve just got t’ tell m’wife that ‘m staying over….No, she doesn’t know anythin’…” Harry sighs, “…look ‘ve been married to her fo’ three years now, I can’t just divorce her.”
But it sure was easy for you to cheat on her.
Y/N quickly goes back to occupying herself with dinner, ignoring the ache in her chest. Her hands are slightly shaking as she cuts some vegetables and she feels the tears well in her eyes which she tries to get rid of when she hears Harry’s footsteps walking towards the kitchen.
She sees his body leaning against the doorway of the kitchen in her peripheral vision. She glances up to see him looking at her with his pale green eyes. She could depict the look on his face but she gives him a small fake smile nonetheless.
“Hey,” She greets, trying to control her shaky voice. “Didn’t hear you come in,” She lies.
Harry gives her a small smile, walking towards the bar stool. He picks up a carrot from the cutting board, plopping it into his mouth.
“Yeah…I just got home,” He says lowly, looking at her face.
She tries not to look at him, pretending to act casual as she chops the vegetables. She tries not to cringe when she feels him lean up to kiss the corner of her mouth. The nerve he had to do that was beyond her. She wishes she could kiss him back but no longer feels like she has the right to when he’s been kissing someone else. Someone who now has his attention more than his own wife’s.
Harry eyebrow’s knit together when he sees how quiet she was being. His gaze lingers on her face before he slowly runs his eyes over her whole figure. He felt his airways constrict, making it less easy to breath. His heart was racing in his chest when he notices that her wedding ring was missing from her finger. Did she know?
He puts his hand on hers, refraining her from cutting the vegetables. She looks at his face in confusion, wondering why he stopped her. She notices his green eyes staring down at her fingers. Her heart clenches in her chest and she felt herself let out a shaky sigh because Harry finally noticed.
She sees him swallow thickly, his green eyes red around the rims. His lips part when he looks up to see the broken look on her face. She could no longer hold her strong facade and she immediately feels a single tear leave her eye.
“W-Why don’ yeh wear your ring anymore?” He asks in a whisper even though he knew the answer. It’s not like he didn’t notice before. Whenever he’d come home in the last few days, he’d notice her ring finger bare when she was asleep. He didn’t think too much about it at the time but now as he looks at her hand, he felt his heart break in his chest because she knew. He knew that she knew.
Y/N inhales deeply, gathering the courage to say what she’s been wanting to say for the past few days. “Stopped wearing it once I found out you were no longer mine.”
Harry’s eyes widen, the tears pricking the back of his eyes. He felt his lip wobble and he bites down on his lower lip. Y/N looks at his face, noticing how pale it went and how his eyes are glossy.
“I-I don’ understand I-I–” Harry stutters, twiddling with his thumbs, not knowing what to say.
“Please, don’t say anything,” She says calmly but on the inside, she felt like she was falling apart. She felt like her heart was going to burst at the amount of pain it felt. “What was it, Harry? Hm?” She asks him. “W-What made you do this? What did I do to deserve this? Tell me, did I do something wrong? Were you not happy anymore?”
Harry stays quiet, not knowing how to answer her questions. His tears can no longer be held and he lets out a choked sob.
“How long have yeh known?” Is all he asks.
Y/N shakes her head at the fact that he ignored her questions. “Three weeks.” She says, noticing his face break even more. “I notice how you were no longer there with me. You were there, Harry. But you weren’t there,” She cries. “And I tried so hard to convince myself that you would never do something like this. I tried not to jump to conclusions but Jesus, Harry, I smelled her on you and I saw the fucking marks on your neck when you came home drunk the other night! And you think I didn’t notice that you weren’t wearing your ring either!” She finally says, her chest heaving by the end. She felt her head spinning and her chest hurt from the agonizing pain of heart break.
The air was knocked out of his lungs and he felt like he could no longer breathe at all. He didn’t what to tell her. It wasn’t her that caused him to cheat on her. It was him. It was all of his fault. He met the woman when he out with some friends and he’d accidentally slept with her after getting too drunk. He felt guilty the next day, sobbing in his car outside of their home while his wife was waiting inside, worried sick.
He didn’t know how to tell her that after cheating on her, he saw that same woman again and developed a sexual affair with her. Harry should’ve known that he was going to get caught eventually. He would ignore the guilt that was at the back of his mind when he was kissing the other woman. He would ignore the sad look on your face every time he left.
Now he felt all the guilt and regret crashing down on him like a sudden wake up call. Seeing her look at him with the broken look on her face dawned him that he could never heal this. She was never going to forgive him. They both knew that.
“I-I can’t stay here anymore,” She whispers sadly and Harry immediately became alarmed at her words. He shook his head, going around the kitchen counter and getting on his knees.
“N-No, I messed up. I know I did. I wasn’t thinking. Please.” He begs, crying out and she pretends to act like it doesn’t phase her.
Y/N pulls his arms from her waist, pushing him off of her but he only tightens his arms.
“Harry,” Y/N cries out loud, “You can’t do this. You’re the one who ruined this. Ruined us. The moment you decided to even kiss another woman was when you ruined it. A-And the fact that you went back to that woman and decided to have…” She felt herself stop right there, her throat constricting, preventing anymore words from coming out. She couldn’t say the word because it hurt too much and the image that’ll come to mind
“Our marriage is ruined, Harry,” Y/N says coldly and Harry felt a sharp pain in his chest because hearing her say it out loud felt like a stab to the heart.
Three years of being married and it only took one decision for it to all crumble.
alright homies, this fucking sucked. I apologize to the anon who requested this if it’s not what you wanted :( I have a hard time imagining Harry as a guy who would cheat so this was a bit difficult to write so i didn’t know how to end it *sigh* plus this is my first angst one lmao. Hopefully i can finish up my other stuff soon to show you guys. I’m gonna be posting less due to vacation.
one more thing, I didn’t proof read at all so ignore any typos. Thanks.
She was his wife now. He couldn’t stop beaming at her, as she smiled and twirled and glowed with happiness.
Captain Hook, a married man. Married to the Savior no less, but even so: married.
He recalled the days when he pined after this woman, wondering if she might ever see him as something more than just a pirate.
Only in his most wondrous dreams did he ever think she would be his wife.
He stared at the ring on his hand. Somehow, the curse had left it untouched.
A wedding band. His wedding band.
It had been real. No curse could take that from him.
But it could take something else from him: his wife.
Climbing the beanstalk without his wife was eerie.
Bloody hell, he’d been teasing her at the time, hoping to unsettle her enough to get her to reveal more information about herself. The more he understood her, the better he could use her.
You never forget your first. How little he’d realized how much that would come to mean.
Last he’d been here, she’d been a reluctant ally who had, hours earlier, been fully prepared to let him die at the hands of ogres.
Now, she was his wife.
He was about to see his wife die.
There had been a small glimmer of hope this whole time, that she could defeat prophecy and visions as surely as she’d defeated so much darkness before.
But not now. She’d tossed aside her sword. Gideon was going to run her through, while the rest of them just watched.
While he just watched.
Watched as someone killed his wife.
His wife lay in his arms, with her head on his chest. He stared down at her left hand, which rested on top of his right; they’d found her rings in the little ring dish in the bathroom, much to her relief.
He was lying in bed with his wife. He chuckled weakly.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re my wife.”
She laughed gently. “Yeah, I know. And you’re my husband.”
can we talk about harry getting a little tattoo on his ring finger when he gets married?? just imagine how sweet it'd be aww
PLEASEEEE I THINK ABOUT THIS OFTEN BECAUSE IT’S LITERALLY SOMETHING HARRY WOULD DO!!! He’d be so cute about it, too, and maybe he doesn’t even tell you when he has one of his mates that have done a million of his other smaller tattoos do it. It could happen a month of so after the wedding and honeymoon (which was nearly a whole month itself and Harry had told everyone to fuck off while the two of you disconnected from the rest of the world for a bit). You’ve had a little over a week to settle in as newlyweds now, though, not that it took much, because you finally stopped paying rent at your own place and moved in with Harry completely about a year ago (even though he had been begging you to for months beforehand, because you mostly lived together, anyway, so it just made sense and you were just wasting money). Today’s been his first day back at work, though, which really just entailed going to a few meetings and getting a bit of writing done for his next album, and the rest of the time was spent fucking around with his team.
When he comes home, he finds you in the kitchen finishing up dinner, and he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and presses his face into your neck. “’F you tracked dirt into this house because you refuse to take your shoes off at the door, ‘m gonna’ kill you,” you tell him, placing a hand over his on your tummy, and you feel him smiling against your skin. “You wouldn’t. Can’t live without me,” he shoots back, and you spin around until you’re facing him, and he’s grinning down at you (and you, up at him). He leans in after that, but you turn your head so that he misses your lips and gets your cheek instead. You expect him to put up a fight, pretend that he’s hurt, but instead he just presses his lips harder against your cheek, grabs for your hands, and laces your fingers together. He’s got you pressed between his body and the counter by the time he starts peppering wet kisses along your jaw, and you groan, doing your best to move away from his assault. His grip tightens and he presses up against you a bit harder. “You’re so annoying,” you complain, but you’re out of breath from laughing so hard, and he knows you don’t mean it. “‘S too bad. Y’stuck with me,” he counters, bringing your intertwined hands up, and that’s when you see it.
You’ve had an obsession with looking at Harry’s left hand ever since you put his wedding ring there during your ceremony, and each time your heart has lurched and you’ve nearly caught a sob in your throat. This time it’s no different, but it’s more intense than it has been since the first few days, because there’s the tiniest bit of black ink just below where his new, shiny wedding band rests against the fourth finger. Said ink appears to be in the shape of your first name’s initial, in your handwriting, and there’s a red sort of glow around it, which leads you to think that it may be permanent. That thought makes you feel a bit dizzy and you must look very suddenly drained of color, because Harry narrows his eyes at you, and then follows your gaze to his finger. He smiles, and you look up at him with wide eyes. “You like it, then?” He questions, his voice his softer, but just hearing the rasp of it brings a smile to your face and you hold his left hand tighter.
“Is it real?” You murmur, and he lets out a breath of laugh, because it very obviously is, but your voice sounds genuinely filled with wonder as if you don’t quite believe it. “’Ve got ‘big’ tattooed on one of ‘m big toes, ‘nd you’re asking me ‘f your initial is real or not?” He teases, and you want to swat at his chest, but you’d rather keep holding his hands, squeezing them as if to encourage him to further explain. “Remember when I told you I didn’t even need a ring? That night when you thought I was proper smashed ‘nd I was beggin’ you to let’s just get marriedalready, and your argument was that we didn’t have rings yet?” He starts, and you give him a small nod, and he lets out another quiet laugh. “I believe I told you we could just get tattoos ‘f some sort on our ring fingers after, didn’t I?” You nod again, and he brings his hands up to cup your cheeks, and you wrap your arms around his middle, hugging him close to you. You had been together right around four years now, and you still were never able to get close enough to him. “Still wanted mine. Even if you wouldn’t let me marry you that night. You’re part ‘f me. Already were, but now y’can see it,” he says, and you turn your head to press a kiss to his palm and then you’re leaning up to kiss him properly right after.
Harry makes a choked off sound, like he’s surprised by the kiss, but he melts into it easily. You think you could probably kiss him forever, just like this – standing in the middle of your kitchen, you in your joggers and t-shirt, and Harry in the same except he’s got on jeans, feeling the newest sensation of feeling an extra ring on his hand as he cups your cheek. It’s breathtaking, and you’re certain no one has ever been as in love as the two of you are. When you pull apart for a bit of air, you tell him that you want his initial, too, and he raises an eyebrow. “Y’can have it t’night if you trust me enough t’let me do it,” he tells you, and you nod quickly. He’s no tattoo artist, you know that, but he does have a kit, and he’s got enough tattoos himself to know how to do it properly. He’s also tattooed a few of his mates, just as they’ve done him, so you know he knows what he’s doing. Also, there’s something about Harry tattooing his own initial, in his handwriting, into your skin that makes it beyond intimate. Just the idea makes you feel hot all over and needy for him, so you press closer and drag your hand over the dip in his back beneath his t-shirt. He clearly doesn’t pick up on it, though, because he smiles as he presses a peck to your lips and steps away. You whine because that’s all you get out of him.
Not a minute later, though, you catch his smirk and realize that he has, in fact, picked up on it, but instead of doing something about it, he’s taking two plates from the cabinet and placing them on the counter beside the dish of pasta you’ve successfully made (and forgotten about in the fifteen minutes he’s been home). When he speaks, it seems so sudden that you nearly jump. “Know tattoos get y’ all hot ‘n bothered, baby, but think about how bad y’gonna’ want it after I’ve done your tattoo,” he tells you, turning back to face you and setting both plates in front of the barstools at the island in the center of the kitchen. “Remember when y’got your first? Could hardly keep y’off ‘f me while I drove us home,” he says, and his voice is fond and you love when he does this – pretend he’s not just as affected as you are. You let him be cocky, even if you know the truth. “Promise I’ll take good ‘f you after we’re finished. Know how wet it gets you,” he murmurs, once you’re sitting beside him, and you lean over to press a kiss just below his jaw, and he places a hand on the inside of your thigh.
You end up getting two tattoos that night – an ‘H’ in his handwriting, just below where your wedding band rests, to match his, and a heart he’s drawn directly on the skin of your hip. “’S a fuckin’ shame ‘m not gonna be able t’get my mouth on y’there for a week now,” he tells you after he’s finished, and you tell him there are plenty of other places he can put his mouth in the meantime.
Summary: Most actresses would jump at the chance to play in a role opposite from their husband, but when your role opposite from your husband Matthew is designed to cause pain, it’s far from a dream come true. Based on the episode Entropy.
Word count: 1,545
A/N: This is my first time writing for MGG so bear with me if it’s a little rough! There are also some spoilers within since it is based on 11x11. I would love to know what you thought!
Being an actress meant that you had grown accustomed to a multitude of things throughout the course of your career.
Early morning wake up calls with equally late nights on set, script changes coming within ten minutes of filming, months on end spent away from the comfort of your own home, and even invasive encounters with unapologetic paparazzi.
But yet, the act of having another person apply your makeup for the day was one that you could never fully grow used to.
“Dayne, you do realize that you can apply mascara without destroying my cornea in the process, right?” your eyes darted upwards at the makeup artist whose wand-wielding hand inched closer and closer to your line of sight.
A chuckle resonated from Dayne as he took a step back from you, “I can’t tell who’s harder to work with,” sarcasm dripped from the smirk he wore, “You, or your husband.”
At the mere mention of Matthew, anxiety clenched your chest tight, but you managed to pass it off with a breathy laugh, “Just be glad that it’s me you’re putting fake lashes on instead.”
It was unusual, and incredibly unsettling, to experience such apprehension at the thought of even seeing your husband whilst preparing for your first role opposite him.
After meeting at the Tribeca Film Festival for his film ‘Magic Valley’ it was written in the stars from then on out for the two of you to be together.
Three years of dating and another two years of marriage later, Matthew and yourself had never once starred in a film together, despite both of your affinities for indie films, which only made it even more shocking when he arrived home from the Criminal Minds set one night with a script gripped in his hand.
I just think Jefferson needs so much love and I want to give him everything in this world, tbh.
Year after year, month after month, day after day; Jefferson watches through his telescope. He watches Grace every morning before she leaves for school and every night when she’s sitting down for dinner. God, how he wished he could see her everyday. How he wished she remembered him.
Then, after Grace walks out the door to get to class, he shifts to the other side of the room and leans down to look through his other telescope. And he watches his baby for hours on end.
He watches her wake up and go about her day, puttering around her house just as she used to do back in their realm. He watches as she reads and waters the plants and sometimes even paints when she’s having a particularly stressful day.
Jefferson watches her embrace her husband with his fists clenched at his sides. He watches her kiss him and hold him and smile up at him as if he put the stars in the sky. How she used to look up at him before this damned curse.
He watches his wife love another man with no recollection of the time they had spent together in the enchanted forest. His wife, his Y/N. She was his and now she was in the arms of another man. A man who angered Jefferson to the point of madness.
And to make it even worse, Jefferson knew the man. His name was Adam back before the curse and Jefferson couldn’t be bothered to learn his new name. And god, he hated Adam with everything he had.
Adam was a piece of shit. He had loved Y/N back home, had even tried to court her well after she was married and had Grace. He was the first man that made Jefferson possessive, the first man who made his blood boil. But that’s exactly why Regina made it so the two would end up together - to torture Jefferson more than she already was.
Regina figured that losing Y/N would just top it off, she didn’t know that Jefferson would react the way he did when he first saw Y/N. Regina knew what losing Grace would do to Jefferson, she knew he’d go crazy trying to convince people that she was his daughter.
But when Jefferson saw Y/N, he felt his entire world crashing down around him. He broke, became madder than any patient, threatened Regina within an inch of her life.
Regina quickly learned that Grace wasn’t his vice - it was Y/N.
So, she discarded her plans for the woman and let her be, only to keep Jefferson from killing her. She let Y/N stay who she was, she didn’t alter her. Regina sure as hell didn’t want to die by the hands of Jefferson.
Y/N hadn’t changed a bit in all the time since she was taken from her home and brought to Storybrooke. She still had the sweetest little smile ever and the kindest eyes - eyes that matched Grace’s in every way. She still wore long white dresses and kept her hair in loose curls down her sides and always, always wore a clip to keep her hair back from her face - a clip that Jefferson had given her long before they were married.
Sometimes he wonders if she remembers the significance of it or if it’s just mere habit that she places it in her hair everyday with a smile and lingering fingers.
Jefferson sits in the corner booth, a tea sitting in front of him thats gradually growing colder and colder with each untouched minute. This was his spot, he sat here everyday and watched.
It was almost like clockwork, really. The bus would pull up and Grace would get off, walking right by the window that Jefferson was looking out of. Then, around two minutes later, Y/N would stroll by with a bundle of freshly picked flowers on her way to the floral shop she worked at. He got to see his girls and that’s all that mattered to him.
He swirls the tea in the cup, bringing it to his lips to take a small sip. The squeaky brakes of the school bus catch Jefferson’s attention as he watches, waiting for his little girl to come bounding off. Through the sea of kids, he spots her easily.
Her golden hair bounces as she skips along with her friends, a smile across her lips and god, it replicated her mothers perfectly. He lets a small smile tilt at the edges of his lips when he sees her happiness.
Grace walks by, laughing and joking with her friends and that almost makes Jefferson wish he could be right alongside her. But he can’t. Because she has a new family. Because she doesn’t remember him. Because he’s a stranger to her.
His eyes faulted back to his cup when the sadness washes over him, just like it does everyday.
His fingers tap along the ceramic, his wedding band flashing up at him from his hand. He smiles a little, reaching into his pocket to hold the small, gold band in his fingers.
Y/N’s wedding ring.
It kept him sane on the days he felt he couldn’t go on without her. It brought him good memories of their days together, of whenever she would twiddle with the band and grin to herself. He kept it with him at every second, never letting it out of his possession.
He pulls his hand from his pocket, placing it back on the cup before lifting his eyes to look outside. And there she was, his Y/N, walking down the sidewalk with a bundle of white roses in her hands.
They always were her favorite flower.
She walks by, a slight flush to her cheeks from the brisk air. He bites his lip, watching her move past the window, her grin turning into a bright smile. That smile could brighten Jefferson’s mood on even his worst days.
“More tea?” The waitress asks from the end of the table, disrupting Jeffersons thoughts.
“No, thank you.” He mumbles, not turning to even look at the young girl. He wishes, prays, pleads to any god willing to listen, that Y/N would recognize him. He begs, just like he does every second he sees her.
Just for a minute, just let her remember for a minute so he can hold her again. It’s been so long, he just wants to feel her warmth against his chest again, he just wants to touch her. Just one touch, he’s sure it will silence his mind for the time being.
She’s gone as soon as she came, her white dress too far to see through the crowd of people.
He drops his head, inhaling before looking at his tea. He startles by the presence of a figure in the booth across from his. “She’s not going to remember you.” Regina hums.
“Leave me alone.” Jefferson snaps, pushing his tea from his before moving to get out of the booth.
Regina chuckles, shaking her head. “If you really loved her you never would have left her in the first place.” She dares to say, gripping onto his wrist to keep him in place.
“Don’t you ever talk about her again.” He snarls, ripping away from her hold in an aggressive manner. She was striking the correct nerve and she knew it, she was far from stopping.
“She belongs with someone who can make her happy, who can provide for her. You certainly couldn’t do that, now could you? You should be thanking me, I gave her the life she deserved.” She pries, eyeing Jefferson.
He glares down at her. “I loved her more than anything in the entire world, and you took her from me. You didn’t even let me say goodbye - you just took me away to die.”
“It was for her own good.” Regina nods, clasping her hands together. “If you truly loved her you would have gone right to her the second you saw her and told her all about the curse.”
“She wouldn’t have believed me - you know that.” He sighs, anger pulsing through his veins. “You took everything from me, everything.”
Regina shrugs, leaning back. “But don’t you see how happy your girls are? They’re happier without you, you were dragging them down, Jefferson.”
He gulps, pushing from the table and walking over to the door. It jingles when he pulls it open. He steps out into the cool air and takes a deep breath to calm himself.
He just wants Y/N and Grace to be back in his arms. He wants them to be back home in their little cottage, having pretend tea parties and laughing about anything they could. He wants his girls to come back to him.
Starting his short trek to his home, Jefferson takes one more look in the direction where Y/N walked. He knows he won’t be able to see her, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hope.
It happens within seconds, like a wave crashing down on an unsuspecting swimmer. The wind blows past Jefferson, a flash crossing the air. He stumbles back, eyes wide.
People stop on the street, looking around in a confused manner. It takes two seconds for a frenzy to start, people rushing around, screaming out the names of their loved ones.
“Jefferson!” Y/N’s voice fills his head, his eyes rapidly moving across the flurry of people. He looks to his left, seeing her rushing over to him. His breath all but stops, lungs closing up as he chokes for air.
Tears prickle his eyes as he stretches out his arms, catching her in a bone crushing hug. He lifts her up, burrowing his face in her neck. “Baby.” He gasps out.
“Let’s go find Grace.” She hums into his neck, encasing him further with her arms around the back of his neck, twirling along his shorter hair.
She holds him tight, her feet still off the ground. “I love you, so much.” He breathes.
Nursey saves the quarter and uses it to propose to Dex on the fifth anniversary of them getting Lardo’s dibs. He gets a jeweler to carve out a hole in the middle so it fits Dex’s finger. Dex rolls his eyes and calls him a sap before saying yes and kissing Nursey senseless. He wears it on a chain around his neck, and his (sensible) gold wedding band on his finger to match Nursey’s.
“I know m'a bit tipsy, but trust me, I swear. I know what I’m saying.”
The Café Habana Harry oh so dearly loves that’s filled with people erupted in laughter, making him look at you stood beside him as he told you awhile ago that he would make people laugh in here more than twice.
It’s his turn now to speak since ten years ago it was the both of you that spoke on your wedding yet he wanted to make it up to you up until now since he all he spoke were two sentences since he was too eager for the remaining night to come in your honeymoon.
“S'the last thing before everybody comes home — yes, that includes you Niall.”
Harry cleared his throat, taking a light sip from his drink before making you sit on the chair he asked for awhile ago, not wanting you to not go less than okay.
“Just so everybody would know, or if anyone else forgot since they’re too drunk, I’ve been married for ten years now.”
Cheers filled the room as you felt your cheeks heat up as he giggled knowing that he made you do yet with him following up his statement quickly.
“To, my love, and well my wife. Y/N Styles.”
He looked at you dearly with the look he uses when he’s adoring anything or anyone, a bright shade of green that surprises you every time.
“We have, uh, two kids. So far — so far,” he winked, a knowing look too being seen that everyone whistles and clapped that he was sure if his mother was there instead of being the one to take care of your children, she would’ve snatched his drink from him.
“So, yeah. For ten years, I got to wear this ring. S'the only one I never took off and the only one I wouldn’t.”
All the noise blocked out from Harry’s hearing as he felt his words shift in a new phase.
“M'saying this speech since there’s a lot of things I should’ve said. I’m only gonna say a few, then reserve the most of them between the two of us.”
He chuckled from the reactions, especially on the guys hinting their actions to who-knows-what but Harry simply smiled, his mind blanking at the thought of you since there really is a lot to say, but every time he opens his mouth, he can’t handle all of them.
“And well,” he trailed off, hesitantly biting his lip before shifting his weight from his foot to the other.
“Thought I was complete before with everything that I had, then it turns out I wasn’t.”
Harry’s admittedly nervous as it’s like when he was waiting for you to reach the other end of the aisle, his fingers brushing across his rings as a sign he really is.
“There’s this girl I know — the most gorgeous being I’ve ever seen. The most patient to be with me up to this day.”
There’s a knot in his throat even he knows for a fact that he shouldn’t. He thinks it’s his sentimentality taking him but it isn’t the case.
It’s the truth that’s making him like this. The absolute truth no one could be capable in denying.
“There’s this girl I know that makes me the happiest. The one who gets me grounded and the one who reminds me where I came from.”
There’s tears welling in his eyes. And if he’d be cocky, he’d say that it’s from the alcohol and not his own feelings that’s dragging him but he won’t say a lie tonight.
Not a single one because he knows it wouldn’t benefit a single one that’s present in this milestone.
He laughed, wiping his eyes that made a lot of people do too genuinely, including you who’s almost squealing from the pent up joy and everything.
“There’s this girl I know that reminds me everyday that the greatest — the greatest thing in life couldn’t be bought.”
He looked up at you as he smiled with tears of joy, all hollers and cheers being heard as he caught again the glint of his gold wedding band.
“And this girl I know, thankfully, became my wife.”
Harry cleared his throat, raising his glass as he’s excited to do this again and again, even if he’s given the chance not to.
“To the girl I know, love, here’s to every single day I would love you all over again.”
author:@broodybell pairing:stiles x reader word count:2,029
authors note:this is the first part of the series :) it’s gonna take a little while for things to actually get going, but there’s gonna be so much drama and soooo many twists. i know this is late, but i’m working on the second part as you’re reading this, just be patient!! anyway, enjoy!
Summary: I was watching Modern Family S01E15 and got inspired with the whole roleplaying going on between Claire and Phil. Word Count: 2,424 Warnings: Roleplaying, unprotected sex, dirty talk. A/N: No one is ever gonna look at me the same again, HAH. First time writing smut, so be gentle please! Also, leave feedback pretty please so I know you guys don’t hate me for this hahaha. Probably gonna delete this. xxx
You swirled your pick around in your Martini glass, teeth tucked into your lower lip as you rocked your leg back and forth where it was crossed over your other one as you sat on the high barstool. The hotel restaurant was prestigious, swanky, way out of your comfort zone but tonight it was the perfect setting.
It didn’t take you long before a tall, toned man approached you. You raised your eyes to meet his hazel ones, lips pulling into a soft smile.
“Is this seat taken?” He asked, voice low enough for only you to hear.
You glanced at the barstool beside you, quickly bringing your eyes back to his. His eyes were averted downward and you quickly realized that he was sweeping his eyes over your long legs that were exposed, stopping on the black Louboutin heels that you’d gotten gifted to you on last year’s Valentine’s Day. They fit you perfectly and they went well with the black dress that you were wearing.
“It is now,” you drawled, watching his eyes light up a tad bit as he moved to pull back the barstool so he could squeeze in, rough large hands smoothing over his suit, sitting down with a huff. “So what brings you here?”
littered across the campus of Maas University. Cassian had to slow to a stop
twelve times before getting to his parking space. Peering out the windshield,
Cassian gazed at the set of brick buildings. Memories of the best kind poured
into him: meeting Nesta, his friends, his family. People he hadn’t seen in
squeezed his wife’s hand before he turned the ignition off and peered over the
seat at his children. Aysel still slept, her military jacket thrown over her,
covering her ripped jeans and Halestorm
band tee, her headphones still in her ears. Bay too had headphones in, his eyes
trained on the book resting in his lap. “We’re here guys.”
Looking up from his book, Bay
pulled down his headphones and looked out the window, his hazel green eyes
filled with a quiet nervousness as he watched the students. He turned to shake
Aysel awake. “Ays.”
Kohl lined blue-grey eyes
fluttering open, Aysel pulled her headphones from her ears, music still
blasting from them and looked out the window. Face lighting up, she shoved off
her jacket and barreled out of the car, shouting, “I have arrived, bitches!”
When he thought about it, it shouldn’t have been that surprising. Of course the man that his cursed self would often confide in was none other than his own step-father.
Henry stepped inside the small, dark bar near the shipping docks and glanced around before heading to his usual stool. Leroy was seated at the far end of the counter, nursing a beer and glaring at the world; Henry had to bite back a chuckle at the fact that he’d been drinking with a dwarf all this time.
Humming sounded from the back room, and suddenly, Henry was nervous. He shouldn’t be, he knew, but the prospect of seeing him—really seeing him—had him feeling like a 12-year-old boy again.
In this life, Killian Jones was a navy vet who’d lost his hand in battle and his wife sometime later. He never took off his wedding band, though, and said she was his true love—that there wasn’t another for him. It had always warmed Henry’s heart to know that that kind of love was possible; now that he remembered the real story, he had to bite back a grin.
The melody grew louder and then, there he was: a few years older than when he married Henry’s mom (there were some grays peeking through at his temples), wearing a plaid shirt not unlike one of David’s, and with a warm smile on his face.
“Henry; it’s good to see you, lad.” Again, Henry stifled a laugh—Killian was hardly even ten years older than him in this reality, yet had always called him “lad,” just like when he was a kid. Some curse this was. “Your usual?”
You rolled over violently and looked at Jensen, his snoring keeping you awake as he laid there. You furrowed your eyebrows, grabbing for your pillow with thoughts about smacking him with it filling you up with enough peace to put you back to sleep. But as you gripped the corner of your pillow, another thought came to mind. Releasing the pillow, you spun around and grabbed your phone off the nightstand and pulling the charger out of it. Bringing up the camera, you began recording, putting you on the screen with a snoring Jensen just behind you.
You stared at Jensen on the phone for a solid ten seconds before releasing a sigh. “I love you, Jensen. Even if your loud snoring keeps me up at night, I’ll still love you. I’d rather be dead tired than to not sleep next to you. Love you, baby.” You turned around and kissed his cheek with a loud mwah before turning back to your phone and stopped the recording. You snuggled back into bed and forced Jensen’s arm around you, smiling widely as you closed your eyes and tried to fall asleep despite the snoring in your ear.