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tarontherocketman · 4 years

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Mr Madden | Madderton Teacher AU | Chapter 4

TW: BRIEF MENTIONS OF SUICIDE

Taron stirred in bed, glancing to the clock for the umpteenth time that night; it was only 4:57am. He had just over 2 long hours until his alarm was supposed to sound, it was still dark, and the birds hadn’t even thought about chirping yet. The entire night had been a series of waking up and drifting off, usually multiple times within the hour. His mind was disturbed by the thought of arriving at school to find out that Ella hadn’t made it, he had visions of her parents coming in to blame the school, leading to Taron being ratted out for not doing enough to help her, her poor parents screaming and crying at him, telling him that they killed their daughter. He made himself dizzy filling his head with these thoughts that deep down he knew just weren’t true, and Richard has done everything he could to assure him of that. The light from his phone and a soft vibration pulled Taron out of his dark thoughts as he rolled over to pull it out of its charging port and squint at the bright screen.

Rich: you up, T?x

Taron: yep, been up most the night, why are you up??x

Rich: set an alarm for 5 cos I knew you’d be up and I wanted to check up on you x

Taron: what? really? Rich you didn’t have to do that you have work too..x

Rich: course I did I couldn’t bear the thought of you alone in bed feeling shit so I thought instead of another 2 hours of that you’d want to go for breakfast before work? Obviously the only place open is mcdonalds but you can’t go wrong with a maccies breakfast x

Taron: you’re right you can’t go wrong with a maccies breakfast, thanks rich I need this I was preparing for a long couple of hours, was considering going for a walk but this sounds much nicer x

Rich: no worries bub, I’ll come pick you up in 20 mins then we can go straight to work after breakfast x

Rich got himself up and ready for work, a routine that didn’t take long. As long as his face was washed, teeth were cleaned and his hair was tidy he was quite happy to get dressed and go within 15 minutes. He grabbed his keys and jogged down the stairs of his apartment to the resident car park, making the short drive to Taron’s place and sending him a quick text to let him know he was outside. Taron appeared quickly, looking a little less put together than usual. His hair wasn’t quite as neat as he usually bothered to make it, and his eyes were puffy from the severe lack of sleep.

“Jeez you look shit T,” Rich commented.

“Cheers,” Taron sighed.

“No I mean you still look handsome, obviously,” Rich scoffed playfully, “but you literally look like you haven’t slept for a minute.”

“You’re not too far off the mark there,” Taron replied as he pulled the seatbelt over him. “Seriously though thanks for doing this Rich it means a lot, you really didn’t have to wake up so early for me.”

“Don’t worry about it I knew full well you’d be up most of the night worrying, I know what you’re like by now, I’d rather that you get out of the house and have some breakfast and coffee rather than tossing and turning for another 2 hours and coming to work without eating anything,” Rich said softly as he put the car into 5th gear along a long, empty main road.

“Thank you,” Taron replied, at a loss for what else to say to his incredibly thoughtful friend who knew him even better than Taron thought he did.

The pair rode out the rest of the journey in silence, neither knowing exactly what to say at a time like this. Rich pulled into the car park of the 24 hour McDonalds and made his way inside with Taron following miserably behind. Rich noticed him trailing behind and stopped at the door to wait, putting an arm round him when he caught up as they walked into the building. Once the two had ordered, received their food and sat down at a booth table in the window, Taron held his egg muffin limply, taking tiny bites. Rich, having already finished the tiny thing in what felt like less than 5 bites, sat with his hands wrapped around his coffee for warmth.

“Look T, I know this sounds obvious but please stop blaming yourself for this, no one is mad at you,” Rich soothed, taking one hand away from his coffee to place it on Taron’s arm.

“But what if she dies, Rich? How am I supposed to deal with a student dying at my hands?”

“T, if she did die it wouldn’t be at your hands! Not one bit! You did what you could. And anyway there’s no point worrying about death now, if you worry about something that hasn’t happened you’re potentially putting yourself through it twice, ok?”

“That’s actually not bad advice,” Taron said, perking up ever so slightly.

“Yeah I got it off one of those facebook posts with inspirational quotes,” Rich admitted, laughing quietly at himself.

“Oh christ,” Taron chuckled softly, “well thank you anyway, I don’t know why it’s got me this down, I know it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid at all you’re a worrier, you worry for the world Taron, and it’s a heart warming trait but you’re gonna worry yourself sick,” Rich spoke in almost a whisper, rubbing Taron’s arm comfortingly.

“I know, I know,” Taron took a long sigh and finally finished his breakfast. Rich’s words did actually make quite a big difference, he didn’t need to be so miserable about something that he shouldn’t even blame himself for in the first place. “Thank you again for this I do feel better.”

“Anytime,” Rich smiled. Taron and Rich sat for the rest of the wait before work, sipping their second coffee and chatting mindlessly to keep Taron’s mind off things. As the time passed quickly, the morning drew closer to them having to go to work. The sun rose at last, and they knew they’d have to go sooner or later.

“You ready?” Rich asked, offering his hand to Taron, who reluctantly took it, deciding that there wasn’t really anyone around at this time of the morning who would see them and so they walked hand in hand to the car.

“I might not even hear anything about it today, no point getting worked up,” Taron assured himself out loud, staring out of the window at the sunrise lined buildings of the city that zooming past the window as they travelled.

“Exactly,” Rich agreed, putting his left hand on Taron’s knee in between changing gear. They arrived at work, deciding that a third coffee probably wasn’t a smart idea, but a visit to the staff room before they started might be worthwhile, in case there did happen to be any news on Ella.

“Morning,” they both said politely to the other staff gathered around the room, all looking a little bit like they didn’t want to be there for another day in the mad house that they called a school. Taron bit his lip, not sure whether to ask the question. The Headteacher, who was leaning against the kitchen counter waiting for the coffee in the coffee pot to brew, seemed to have read his mind.

“Ella’s parents got in contact, she’s fine,” he smiled, almost as relieved as Taron.

“Really?” Taron beamed happily, relief washing over him like a tidal wave, his whole body relaxing as if he’d been tensing for a week straight.

“Yes she’s stable, already recovering, and will be back in school next Monday if she’s ready so she’s got a little while to get better,” he informed, now turning around to pour coffee.

“Thank god,” Taron breathed heavily, taking a seat on one of the old tatty sofas and slumping forward in relief, rubbing his temples. Rich looked at him, longing for a cuddle, but knowing he couldn’t so just settled on patting him on the shoulder casually, avoiding the curious gaze of Mrs Reynolds who was clearly trying desperately to sniff out some gossip again.

“Coffee?” the Head asked in Taron and Rich’s direction, who both declined rather quickly.

“Suit yourself,” he smiled. Mrs Reynolds was now looking quizzically in their direction.

“Already coffee-d out?” she questioned, an eyebrow raised suspiciously.

“Yep, uh, we do both have coffee at home, so,” Rich trailed off uncomfortably.

“No of course, I just don’t tend to get up early to use up the coffee in my house when it’s free here.” Taron was now looking up at her, his eyes narrowed slightly as if to say ‘keep your nose out of our business’ “Anyway,” she quipped, putting her mug in the sink and turning on her heel “I must be off to class.” At that she scurried out of the staff room making brief eye contact with the rest of the staff before she left, leaving them to sit in tense silence as they all attempted to sip their coffee nonchalantly, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Taron and Rich took this as their cue to leave and head to Rich’s class, walking quickly down the hallway.

“Oh my god do you think they’re all onto us?” Taron whispered, leaning into Rich as they walked.

“I don’t know, but like you said the other day, there’s no proof, they have nothing on us!” Rich loud whispered back.

“You’re right, we just have to be extra careful,” Taron nodded as they arrived at Rich’s classroom and scuttled inside.

“Yeah we will,” Rich assured.

“Extra careful,” Taron smirked, leaning flirtatiously against the door to the supply closet.

“Taron..” Rich warned, knowing exactly what he was suggesting.

“Do people usually come snooping in your supply closet at 7:30am on a Tuesday?” Taron joked.

“Well no, but they do walk past the classroom and snoop through the big obvious window in the door, what if we get seen going in or out?”

“We won’t! We’ll make sure,” Taron reassured the Scotsman, who stood shifting on the spot nervously, his hands fiddling with each other.

“Your mood has certainly improved in the past 10 minutes,” Rich observed.

“Of course,” Taron started, “I spent all night worried sick and now I know she’s ok I feel like a massive weight’s been lifted and I have some emotional catching up to do.”

“Right, that’s your logic?” Rich laughed, “in fact, you’ve changed your whole tune about doing things like this since I met you.”

“I know, like I said, everything changed when I met you! Now are you joining me or do I have to please myself?” Taron wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Argh, T!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking!” Taron assured quickly, laughing at Rich being a typical serious History teacher. “You coming in?” Rich shuffled on the spot some more, glancing back and forth at the door suspiciously.

“Hmm, ok, but we really shouldn’t be doing this though,” Rich muttered, following Taron into the cupboard.

“No we should not,” Taron agreed with cheeky smile, pulling Rich in and locking their lips firmly, hands running up and down each other’s backs lovingly.

“No really we can’t make a habit of this,” Rich said, pulling away for a moment in between breaths. Taron shushed him, pulling him straight back in, gently grabbing his thick, lovely hair from behind. The lovebirds carried on having their moment until they accepted that they’ll have to stop eventually and get ready for class. Taron cracked the door open slightly to look at the door to the classroom, making sure the coast was clear before grabbing Rich’s hand and pulling him out of the now fully open door.

“Hey look we literally came out of the closet,” Rich snorted, Taron nudged him playfully, laughing along. “Seriously though we can’t get too comfortable doing that.”

“I know, it’ll be fine!” Taron assured, following Rich to his desk to take a seat next to him. The two of them sat in silence while Rich turned his computer on and watched it boot up, the logo appearing across the screen in big letters. Rich looked down at his lap, and then back up at Taron, the secret kiss they just had now playing on his mind.

“T, what are we?” Rich asked, now ignoring his computer entirely to look into Taron’s pretty eyes. Taron sat thoughtfully.

“I don’t know, Rich,” he admitted, avoiding Rich’s gaze.

“Are we a thing or is this all just for fun?” said Rich, biting his lip in thought.

“Why don’t we talk about this later, you need to get ready for class,” Taron smiled, glancing at his watch.

“Yeah, you’re right, come round mine tonight?” Rich offered.

“Pizza and beer?” Taron said hopefully.

“Course,” Rich agreed, turning to his computer that had now turned on, asking for his password.

“I better get ready for class too, I’ll talk to you later,” Taron said, getting up from his chair and planting a small kiss on the top of Rich’s head. There was a somewhat solemn feeling between the two all of a sudden, they hadn’t delved into the relationship conversation yet. In fact, neither of them knew if they were ready for a relationship, it had all been fun and games up until now, but they had to decide if settling down was something that they both wanted to do now.

The day passed, slowly. Taron and Rich’s thoughts consumed by the reality of the conversation that they would be having that evening. At least there were some distractions through the day, working in a city secondary school always came with its daily challenges. Taron broke up two fights in one lunch break, had to mediate an argument between four girls in his afternoon class that had suddenly turned 2 vs 2 during a script reading exercise when he stupidly split the class into groups of 4 and not only let them choose their groups, but let them choose between them who gets to be which character, as if that could have ever ended well.

Rich had a student storm out of his class angrily after having to tell him more than five times to get off his phone, the students argument being ‘it’s my personal property fuck off’, and he had a 10 minute job of calming down an over-hyper class of year 7s that had just had a P.E class and were now on the last lesson of the day, which was just a recipe for disaster. Rich knew that being a secondary school teacher would come with challenges, based off his own experience as a student many years ago, but he swore teenagers had become 100x times crazier since then, but maybe that was just him remembering it from the point of view of a student, never really knowing at the time what teachers actually had to go through every day.

Once the day finally drew to an end, Rich and Taron met up to go straight to Rich’s seeing as they had both come in his car that morning.

“You sure you don’t need to pop home first? I don’t mind,” Rich offered.

“No it’s all good, these clothes are comfortable enough and we’ve got the same phone if I need a charger,” Taron replied.

“True.”

After a short journey home, Rich and Taron climbed the stairs to Rich’s apartment, he unlocked the door and let Taron in first, following straight after him. Taron stopped to look around the place, observing the colour schemes and decor themes going on.

“Nice place,” he commented, nodding in approval at the well decorated room.

“Thanks!” Rich said happily as he threw his bag on the dining table and slung his jacket over one of the chairs, Taron did the same and joined Rich on the couch, both sinking down into it after a long day. Taron even more exhausted from his extreme lack of sleep the previous night, knowing full well everyone he had talked to today had just politely ignored the bags under his eyes.

“So do you want a beer now, or?” Rich offered.

“I can wait, we should talk,” Taron said slowly, Rich nodded nervously, breathing heavy enough for Taron to hear it clearly now.

“So.”

“So..”

“Ok, look, T, I’m just gonna say it- I really love you, and I think I’ve fallen fast, and if you don’t feel the same and are just in it for the fun I understand but,” Rich babbled, Taron trying so hard not to giggle at not only his rambling but the fact that he swore the Scottish accent was getting thicker as the sentence progressed.

“Oh shut up,” Taron chuckled, shushing him fully with a kiss. “Mr Madden, will you be my boyfriend?”

“Um, obviously!” Rich breathed, laughing from relief and leaning back in for another sofa make out session, one that meant even more to the two of them than the last time it happened, now that this had developed into a real relationship. One that neither of them were expecting considering they both had intentions to lay low in their jobs, but they couldn’t help it. They wanted each other so badly and would freely admit at this stage that that had been the case for quite some time now.

“So you wanna order food?” Rich asked as the pair pulled away from each other.

“Hm, not yet,” Taron replied.

“You not hungry?” Rich asked in genuine surprise, feeling his own stomach rumble from a long day at work with not enough food, knowing Taron had eaten even less.

“I’m hungry, but not for pizza..where’s your bedroom?” Taron smirked. Rich scoffed in surprise at the extremely forward question.

“I- wow, that is very bold of you, Mr Egerton!” Rich said, taken back but not actual displeased by the question.

“Well, you’re my boyfriend now,” Taron smiled flirtatiously.

“Good point, right this way,” Rich grabbed Taron’s hand and let him into the door that was only a few metres away from the sofa, pulling him into the room and gently shoving him onto his king size bed, pulling his shirt off in excitement and kicking the door shut behind him, knowing that he hadn’t felt this content in such a long time.

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So. You may have just figured out, but I don’t write smut! Sorry! Love reading it but terrible at writing it, so you’ll just have to leave it up to your imagination if you so wish! Anyway sorry this isn’t quite as long as the previous chapter, I just went off on that last one, this is more the length that I’m keeping them. Although I’m slightly worried this chapter is a bit boring, but I hope you all like it regardless tho!

Tag list: @taron-eggmcmuffin @coffeetalkbaby @nataschalenasblog @stateofloveandvedder @winterismyfavoriteseason1945

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writingformadderton · 2 years

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Hello Hello‼️‼️

To our readers out there who’s still around for the ride, we are taking requests again 😊 So send them in and we’ll try to get them out as fast as we can in between working on the blog and other things 😊 We love you and can’t wait to see your requests! ~Miya, Nati, Amber & Haley💜💜

#taron egerton #richard madden #madderton #taron egerton fic #richard madden fic #madderton fic #taron egerton fanfiction #taron x richard #richard madden fanfiction

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applesfallingfromblondehair · 3 years

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First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Hey @dauntlessdiva, thanks for the tag and the love on my work! ❤️❤️ I don’t usually do these, but I loved having to go back and reread my writing for the past year or so.

Have this pic of the boys for the road, and let’s go. Here are my last 20:

1. “I guess what I’m trying to say is…” Taron pauses. Closes his eyes. Breathes in, then out. “…that I really don’t think you should come here.”

Silence, for a few seconds. Thick, insufferable silence. “T. C’mon, don’t tell me it’s because—”

“Yes,” Taron cuts him off brusquely, hugging his knees to his chest and shaking his head lightly. “Yes, Richard, it’s because of him. Of course it is.” You idiot. - a change of heart

2. Rob. The last time it happened, it was with Rob.

Rob was 36, fragile like blown glass, and, if one believed British tabloids, Gary’s ‘former worst enemy’.

Rob was already seeing Ayda, but Ayda understood: it wasn’t just sex, it was atonement. Redemption. Love, blooming out of hate. Hate that, really, wasn't ever even there in the first place. That's what he told Rob, after the first time, and after the few times that followed.

“I never hated you.” - boys go crazy over you

3. Wait for me, Patroclus.

I see him wave off the servant proffering his breakfast tray, like he has done every day since Hector struck me at the Scaean Gate.

I see him pick up his spear. I see him get his helmet on—just the helmet, not the rest of his armour, that ornate breastplate and those sturdy greaves and that thick, impenetrable shield, forged by Hephaistos himself, now lying in a corner of our tent, a thick layer of dust and sand gathering on top of it. I see him stride out to kill more Trojans.

He is weak now. It has been ten days, and he is weak. - wait for me in the sky

4. “A joint mission, guv?” Eggsy exclaims, incredulous. “Are you sending me on a fuckin’ babysitting job, Merlin?”

“Nothing of the sort, Galahad. It’s merely for logistical reasons—Clansman are short on resources at present, and they want one of ours in the field to assist with one of their high profile missions.”

“Clansman,” Tequila mutters, under his breath. “Sweet fancy Moses on buttered toast, I’ll never get used to that being a real thang.” - Kingsman: The Highlands Liaison (co-written with my dear @misslittlefreckles 💗)

5. “Alright then, Taron. Good talking to you, mate.”

They’ve only been on the phone about… Taron glances at the clock on his screen. Six minutes. “Yeah, you as well, Dad.”

“Oh and, you know, happy Christmas and all that.”

Taron answers, says something back, does his usual “love you” that goes unreturned, that’s standard, but what he’s thinking the whole time is It’s December 1st. He said happy Christmas. Is this the only time he plans to talk to me all month? - Can't Stop Christmas (aka The Magnum Opus™, co-written with my darling @its-a-soft-science ❤️)

6. “Alright, today’s the day.”

Taron makes his declaration at 10 in the morning, a little while after breakfast. Richard is reclining on the bed, mercilessly bending the creased paperback spine of From Russia With Love. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t respond.

It’s been a beautiful morning; an early breakfast in bed, slowly getting dressed but then lounging about doing nothing much, commenting on Jack’s stories with stupid filters, occasionally trying to snuggle under Richard’s arm and interfere with his reading. Just a regular Saturday. - #choosefuture (also co-written with @its-a-soft-science)

7. It really is the most beautiful pen he’s ever owned, Taron thinks, as he puts the finishing touches to the drawing he’s been hard at work on for five full minutes. It’s a dick. Just a dick. That has somehow just come out of a Montblanc pen. God, he loves his new gig. He almost wants to post the drawing on Instagram, to flex a bit. You know. #providedby. #whatmovesyoumakesyou. Except, this is exactly the sort of thing Hugh has advised him against. Thank goodness for mentorship. - #whatmovesyoumakesyou (you guessed it, it's another collab with my fave @its-a-soft-science)

8. “Oi, Ashley!” says Stu, “Head out of the Year’s Hottest Firefighters calendar, yeah? We have an actual fire we’re s’posed to attend.”

Ashley regretfully folds Mr July away — nicely built, just a little sweaty, charcoal down one cheek for effect. “Never know yer luck in a big city, eh?”

“You wish,” says Rachid, as he swings into the back of the rig.

Ashley straps in and nods at him as Stu flicks on the siren. “I do, son. Every night, on my knees next to my bed. I wish and wish and wish, but so far, no luck.” - Dial 999, I'm on fire (technically, 98% of this, the aforementioned bit included, is not mine: all kudos should go to @mordwen)

9. It starts one afternoon in April.

Taron’s just out of a steaming shower that smells like the South of France—rose and lavender and a touch of honey—and the podcast he’s been listening to lately, that was on for the duration of his time under the spray, cuts off; his phone starts insolently vibrating on the side of the sink.

Still naked and dripping, he scrambles for a towel to avoid making a mess in the small bathroom. Then, with his feet firmly planted on the shower carpet, he shimmies from the shower to the sink to check who’s calling.

It’s number he doesn’t know, but he still picks it up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, you.”

(The prefix might say Murica, but the voice at the end of the line quite unmistakeably spells out Caledonia.) - love it if we made it (aka: my Quarantine Masterpiece)

10. Richard hasn’t even been thinking about it. Not at all, in fact. He’s just let himself get lost in an enjoyable routine, mainly consisting of heeled boots, sharp suits and wigs—in short, the intoxicating euphoria of doing his job and doing it well.

Late nights. Castmates. Happy hours.

And Taron, of course.

Taron.

On set. Off set. Sat in front of him in crowded bars. Pinned against the door of his trailer. Naked between his sheets. - where we're going

11. 8:30 PM. His room at Chateau Marmont. Three vodka-tonics, and an ache in his gut.

Useless.

He’s been on edge all day.

Press. Two screenings. Q&As with adoring fans. Dexter looking at him inquiringly when they headed out for a Starbucks and his face—his mask—dropped.

He must have let that side of him peek through. The one that threatens to explode any minute of any day, lately. Neurotic Taron, normally locked in the basement of his brain, out for his hour of yard time. He hates letting him out. - 4AM in London

12. “Everything’s closed, now, eh?” Richard prompts, nodding in the general direction of Boris on the telly.

“’parently so,” Taron replies, taking a generous swig of his beer. He wishes the telly was off already.

“Emilia texted in the groupchat—theatre’s done for. For the next three months at least. S’pose it makes sense.”

“It does, but that still fucking blows, love. I know how much you were looking forward to that. Are they cancelling the show altogether or just pushing it?”

“God knows,” Richard replies, eyes to his phone, blue light from the screen hitting his beautiful features. Three-day old stubble. His nose. Mmh. “But hey, they just announced that Chalamet’s gig is definitely still happening, when this is all over. There’s that, at least.” He looks up. Smiles wickedly.

Taron scoffs, blowing air inside the neck of his bottle. Grins. “Glad you’ll still get your yearly dose of twink, darling,” he says, sardonically. “Still think he’s too young for you. Then again, you do have a type.” - sometimes, just sometimes (aka: the one that I regret writing)

13. Taron is grocery shopping at Marks & Spencer’s when he spots them. An array of cans. Eye-catching, bright colours and more understated, hip hues of metals and pastels, sitting in the refrigerated beverages section. Among them, the loud, emerald green one that brings about a tsunami of memories. The very same gin-in-a-tin that Richard brought to his trailer that first night during filming, that night when—

He doesn’t even ring him. Picks up four cans and a bottle of red. Tries not to linger over the Percy Pigs next to the self-service tills. Ends up buying two packs, because there’s an offer on—which is the same as usual, to be fair, but shut up. Pays, flies out of the store and back to his car. Puts on some old Ed Sheeran while he drives. That album that makes him think of the summer of 2014 and filming Kingsman. - when you're with me, no judgement

14. The first time it happens, the sky is cloudless and dark, and everything is still. The courtyards and the grounds of Winterfell are silent, calm, immovable. The moon is high, and it is full. Every strand of grass in the surrounding fields and every thick, humid lumber from the endless piles all around the castle is bathing in the silver sheen that she shines on all men. - how easy you are to need

15. From the first fitting at MacGregor and MacDuff’s, it’s clear to Taron that it’s not just about the outfits.

It’s not just because they’re the best kiltmakers in town. It’s not about the tasteful blue and green with strands of real fucking silver thread that Richard chooses as his signature tartan colours. It’s not about the hilt of his new sgian, his dad’s wedding present—a silver and onyx Lion Rampant—peeking proudly from Richard’s sock, its shiny ruby eyes somehow managing to blind Taron from across the room.

It’s not just the tight brogue and the ridiculous amount of Gaelic he hears when he’s hanging out with Richard’s clique of childhood friends and school mates from the Conservatory—which he adores, and which never fails to make him weak at the knees.

It’s not even just about the sun going down on a bottle of eighteen-year-old Scotch and four dram glasses in the garden of Dick and Pat Madden’s country house one late night in early June, when days are longest and when Scotland is somehow clement even temperature-wise.

For Taron, it’s really all about the look in Richard’s eyes when he’s in Glasgow. There’s a glint in that gaze of bluest blue, clear as the sky over the River Clyde when winds are fast and the current is roaring. - there's nowhere compares tae my hometown (aka: a wedding planning fic for which I was planning to write a sequel, but never actually managed to get it out)

16. Just off a plane from LA and away from the champagne glitz of the Golden Globes—he went there to see someone else win an award he was nominated for, and there’s no way in the world he’s going back in two weeks for the SAG Awards, thank you very much—Kit’s phone starts buzzing uncontrollably.

Three voice messages, fourteen SMS, five e-mails and, when he gets home, an actual fucking letter in his actual fucking mailbox informing him that he and the Eternals gang will be filming on location in London for ten consecutive nights, starting next week on Thursday. It’s unusual that he would get the same piece of information via so many different outlets—but then it is a Monday afternoon in the middle of filming a colossal movie for bloody Disney, so it feels like the whole extra element of it is, what, justified? Maybe. Maybe it is. - I could get used to having you around (aka: part 2 of--see number 17)

17. Come to set, Richard texts him one morning, as he’s grinding the beans for his morning coffee. He smiles down at the phone, closes his eyes, and indulges himself picturing what that could look like.

Warm weather, white sand, pink sunsets.

Driving a convertible or, better yet, a Jeep Wrangler with the top off.

Wind in his hair, sun on his skin.

Endless nights in trailers.

Salty kisses.

Ugh, get a fucking grip.

Another text comes in. Come see me. Please, Kit, please. - we were too young to know we had everything

18. They’ve just had to stand in a line like a bunch of trained dogs and smile politely and make empty conversation with the Prince of fucking Wales and the Duchess of fucking Cornwall, and Richard has had just about enough of this evening, thank you very much.

He eyes Mark imploringly, waits for him to mouth go on, then, and finally gets out into the chilly London air with his lighter and his Camels and—fuck, it’s freezing, how was this a good idea again?

Ah, nevermind. He’s out now. Might as well make the most of it. - hold your head in deep devotion (aka: Richard Madden has the hots for Andrew Scott, loosely based on my own Hot Priest phase back in 2019 and tightly based on them looking like hot pieces of ass at the 1917 London premiere)

19. "Oh, c'mon, T, it's not that bad!"

"Are you kidding me? It's so steep!"

Richard shrugs, and he pokes Taron's thigh with his walking stick.

"It's only a couple of hours, darling. C'mon, we'll fall behind!" - ho, mo leannan bhoidheach (aka: the one I wrote on my phone in Glasgow, because I'd gone hiking around Loch Lomond and was inspired by the beauty of Scotland)

20. Taron’s phone starts buzzing in his jacket pocket right after his eyes flick away from the eye of the camera that just recorded him walking off stage.

It’s a rhythmic, increasingly more intense vibration that some genius probably originally devised to be a silent alarm. It’s like a climax, really—which is maybe why Taron decided to associate it with one particular contact in his phone.

He eyes one of his chaperones, makes a phone sign with his right hand next to his ear, quick phone call? He receives an OK sign, and he sighs in relief as he reaches for his phone.

“’ello, y’keen bastard.”

“Told you I’d call as soon as results were in, didn’t I? Fucking hell, Duckie.”

“I know, right?” - you're so golden (aka: Taron won a FUCKING GLOBE)

Phew, this was a long post. If I had to choose a favourite, it would probably be the one from Can't Stop Christmas, except I didn't actually write that bit, so... Let's go with love it if we made it, because that story saved my sanity last year.

Not gonna lie, I don't *know* ten authors. I'm going to tag my friends and peers, as many as I can think of: @its-a-soft-science, @misslittlefreckles, @mordwen, @channellingmyinnerelton, @johaeryslavellan, and @himbomcavoy. You guys seriously rock.

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writingfortoomanyfandoms · 4 years

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5K Music Prompts

Here are the prompts you can use to request for 5sos (INY included), BoRhap (+ the cast and their characters), Rocketman (same deal) and One Direction

“I’m your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that”

“After long enough you kind of just get used to having an ocean between you”

“I’m not good enough for you”

“We can’t keep doing this - I can’t keep doing this”

“Kiss me?”

“Talk to me, you can’t take on all of this alone”

“I’m sorry - I didn’t know where else to go”

“Why did my heart have to choose you to fall in love with?”

“I feel like loving you shouldn’t hurt this much”

“What’re you thinking about?”

“You’re trembling”

“I said I don’t like surprises!”

“And you said you’d never settle down”

“Just trust me”

“Well you see I was walking home and went past a pet store and I couldn’t help but think how cute one would be at home with us”

“Wanna, like - I mean, if you’re not busy… we could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?”

“How long have we known each other and you still don’t know my name?”

“Alright, who the fuck drew a dick on my face?”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“I want you to have this”

“I have no clue what this is supposed to be”

“I will physically fight you for that last piece of chocolate if it comes to it”

“You’re the only person who could ever pull off wearing that jumper, my grandma is going to be so proud that someone has finally worn it”

“IS IT ACTUALLY SNOWING?”

“I know you said not to buy you anything but...’tis the season and all that!”

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rocketmanmadden · 4 years

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Angst requests or ideas anyone?

Anyone have any angsty prompt ideas or requests for Richard Madden or Taron Egerton? Or even Ben Hardy! If so please send through! Thank you! Doesn’t matter how bad they are, the more angst the better;)

#richard madden #richard madden fanfic #richard madden fanfiction #richard madden fic #richard madden imagine #richard madden x reader #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton fanfiction #taron egerton #tarom egerton fanfic #taron egerton fic #ben hardy #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy fic #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy angst #taron egerton angst #richard madden angst

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bluesfortheredj · 4 years

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The Talk.

Talk of an STD and a little bit of depression ahead. No male named, so will tag all those I write for.

His fingertips glide over the warm skin of your neck, making their way down from your jaw to your shoulder, then he slips your vest and bra straps down to your arm while his tongue swirls around yours tantalisingly slowly. Your hands move from his waist to slip their way up the front of his shirt and eventually clasp together at the back of his neck. The kiss had made your mind go completely blank, but as soon as you feel your other straps fall from your shoulder you’re snapped back to reality with a gasp that breaks you from his lips all too suddenly.

“I can’t,” you breathe, letting go of him immediately and pulling your straps back into position, “I really can’t.”

“Do you not want to be with me?” he asks with a slightly furrowed brow.

“I do! I really do, trust me. But I can’t.”

“What do you mean by can’t? Talk to me, (Y/N), please,” he begs.

This wasn’t the first time you’d almost got caught up in the moment, it was so easily done; especially when he caressed your face so sweetly with his slender fingers while his lips left a trail of fire down the side of your neck. You’d always managed to stop in time though, but you knew your excuses were wearing thin and the truth would have to come out one day, and it was looking as though today would be it. Tears were already building up in your eyes and you knew you couldn’t sob your way through this difficult conversation; he needed to hear every detail loud and clear. No other relationship had got this far because you’d been quick to end things before the need for this conversation would arise, yet things were so different with him, and you hadn’t been able to do your usual dump and run.

“How about you go and sit in the living room and I’ll get us a cup of tea, yeah?” he questions desperately, trying to get you to stay instead of run judging by the terrified look in your eyes.

You nod slowly, “yeah, okay.”

He walks down the hallway, the two of you only reaching the bottom of the stairs anyway, and you watch him until he’s out of sight before sighing and making your way into the lounge and perching yourself on the edge of his sofa. It’s the longest five minutes of your life as you await his entrance and he can’t help but give you a smile when he sees you practically ready to run at the drop of a hat.

“You can sit back and make yourself comfortable,” he encourages softly, “it’s okay.”

“Oh… yeah,” you reply nervously as you shuffle yourself backwards.

“Where would you be comfortable with me sitting?”

“Uh… probably the other end?”

“Right,” he nods, stepping back after placing your tea down on the coffee table in front of you and settling into the opposite corner of the sofa.

There’s a long pause as you think carefully about how to say what you need to without bursting into tears or making a run for the front door to avoid it altogether, and your gaze alternates from him to your cup, then finally to your hands that are fiddling with the inner seam of your jeans anxiously.

“I… I don’t really know how to say this… I’ve never had to do this before… I’ve never come this far in a relationship because I’ve been so scared of this conversation.”

He nods slowly, unsure of whether to say anything or not.

“With you though, it’s different, and no matter how much I didn’t want to face this, I couldn’t bring myself to leave you.”

“Well that’s a relief,” he chuckles.

“I wouldn’t say that just yet; you haven’t heard what I have to tell you.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“You’re going to hate me,” you say, inhaling a sob that was threatening to escape as you reach for your cup.

From the corner of your eye you can see him moving to reach out for you, “no, please, don’t,” you say as you put your free hand up to stop him, “please.”

“Okay,” he whispers, knowing this must be serious.

The hand that lifts your cup shakes as it makes its way to your lips and you take a tentative sip of the hot drink before returning it to the coaster for fear of spilling it onto your lap. You take a deep breath and close your eyes as if you’re about to dive into a pool, then the words that had never left your mouth before suddenly come tumbling out in three quick bursts, “I’ve got herpes.”

You hold your breath and clench your fists as if bracing for impact with your eyes squeezed tightly shut, and your body is completely frozen in place while you wait for some sort of reaction; him getting as far away from you as possible, him grimacing at the thought of you, him shouting at you to get out of his house… the possibilities were endless. It must be only thirty seconds until you feel him moving along the cushions and pressing his body against your side as he wraps an arm around your tense figure, yet it feels like forever, and you’re still unsure as to whether you should relax or not.

“Talk to me,” he encourages softly.

You shrug him off as carefully as you can then huddle against the arm of the sofa until he backs away a little and gives you some space, then you cuddle your cup in your lap and keep your eyes fixed on the liquid inside it as you bite back tears.

“I don’t really know what to say,” you eventually reply, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Talk me through what happened,” he whispers, “you seem to expect me to be horrified at this revelation; why?”

“Because I was when it happened. I felt sick constantly, I was disgusted by myself, it made me feel dirty and repulsive, and…” you pause as you shudder at all those thoughts that had invaded your mind all those years ago, “…it was only the second person I’d ever slept with, despite what this sort of thing connotes. He went down on me, there was nothing visible around his mouth, but when I was diagnosed it was confirmed it was the oral type.”

You have to stop as a sob erupts and the first tears begin to fall down your cheeks.

“When I told him he said he couldn’t see how it was him,” you scoff, remembering how hurt you’d felt when he accused you of lying, “as if I’d lie! Absolute bastard.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” he sighs, reaching out to your back and stroking it gently.

“Then when I confided in a couple of close friends I had one say ‘why don’t you just get with him, then it doesn’t matter?’ and the other who was male said ‘it’s a shame we can’t mess around now’,” you laugh through the tears before returning your cup to the table and dropping your face into the palms of your hands as you heave out one long sob.

He can’t hold himself back any longer and he leans forward to wrap his arms around your shaking body so he can then pull you back to rest against his chest while he lets himself fall against the back cushion, “it’s okay,” he soothes while he runs his fingers through your hair, “shhh. I hope you’re not friends with those people any more.”

You shake your head and he nods in approval, “good!”

“I won’t blame you if you never want to see me again,” you mumble, “I won’t mind if you want me to leave.”

“Leave?!” he laughs, “what are you on about?! Do you really think I’d chuck you out just because of this?”

You lift yourself off of his torso but still avoid any eye contact with him, “I would if I were you. You don’t have to deal with this if you don’t want to; it’s my problem.”

“First off it’s not a problem, and secondly you’re meant to share things when you’re with someone, so anything that’s bothering you is our thing to sort out, okay?”

“You’re being too nice. You can’t say this hasn’t changed how you think about me though, and I understand that you won’t want to touch me; I felt exactly the same. I was scared of my own body for so long, it took me years to build up the courage to touch myself after everything.”

“(Y/N),” he exhales sadly, “I’m not scared, and the only way it’s changed how I think about you is that now I know exactly how strong you are. I’m a little intimidated in all honesty!”

“Don’t be silly,” you scoff, then wipe your face with your hands, “can I use your bathroom?”

“You don’t need to ask. Of course you can.”

You scurry out of the room, still feeling those old emotions laying heavy on your shoulders at your admission, and as soon as you shut and lock the door to the bathroom behind you, you let out heaving sobs as your hands grip the sides of the sink. The shame, the sensation of dirtiness, the thoughts of self loathing all come rushing to the surface so quickly you feel as though you’re about to vomit. You manage to lift your eyes to the small mirror on the windowsill in front of where you’re standing and you immediately see a different person to the one you were expecting to see; you’re older now, stronger than what you’d been when it happened, and the changes in your face only reminded you how far you’d come since then. You take a deep breath before grabbing some loo roll and dabbing your eyes, then you click open the lock of the door and open in slowly. When you get to the living room he’s sitting there with his phone in his hand, his eyes fixed on the screen as his thumb scrolls.

“Did you know that around 70% of people have herpes but only about one in three will have symptoms?” he asks, his eyes not straying from the device, “so I could have it and not even know… plus apparently shedding of the virus decreases after time and after two years and barely any flare ups you hardly shed any of it, so the risk of passing it on is pretty minimal.”

“Yeah… I did know actually.”

“Shit, of course you did. That was stupid of me to say, I’m sorry. I’m just reading up, that’s all, and honestly none of this matters to me…” he pauses as he watches your face carefully and lowers his phone, “but I have a feeling that it’s not really the virus that’s the problem… it’s what it represents in your mind, right?”

You nod in reply; he was completely right and it had taken opening up to someone for you to realise it. There was absolutely nothing wrong with having herpes, you were one of millions, but the stigma and sequence of events that had played out during your time of being diagnosed was what had made you so terrified about admitting it.

“I’m really sorry,” you sigh, suddenly embarrassed about getting so worked up about it all, “that was more than a little dramatic.”

“Don’t be sorry! I’m honoured to be the first, and hopefully only, romantic partner you tell so of course it would be an emotional roller coaster for you. Don’t beat yourself up for feeling things so deeply, especially with everything that went on at the time and the shitty people you had around you,” he stands from the sofa and holds his arms out, “now will you please come here so I can hug you without you trying to escape me?”

You let out a short laugh at his question, “I think I can manage that.”

He leans his cheek against your hair as his arms envelop you into a tight embrace, “so… uh… when we do, y’know, I think you’re going to have to demonstrate what you like. I don’t wanna do it wrong after you having perfected it over the last few years.”

You lean away from him to see his face now slightly flushed, “I’m sure you don’t need any… oh! Right,” you chuckle, realising that he wanted to see you pleasure yourself, “I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

“I can’t promise I’ll keep my hands to myself though,” he winks, giving your bum a quick squeeze.

You smile up at him then bury your face into his neck as you resume the much needed cuddle and he sighs contentedly as his arms hold your now calm body.

#gwilym lee x reader #ben hardy x reader #taron egerton x reader #richard madden x reader #imagine #fanfiction #male insert x reader

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

Robin and Gale Hood; Ben Hardy x reader Chap. 4

*Author’s note*

After thinking about how in some versions of Robin Hood they expand more on the Merry Man and how Disney’s only version doesn’t (just has Robin hood and little John) so I’ve decided to rectify that and add more members of the Merry Men. Now these names are actually the names of other members (well except for one name I had along with keeping the original name) so here’s the final cast list of what I have in store for you all.

Cast list:

The Scotsman: Richard Madden

David of Doncaster: Jamie Bell

Gilbert Whitehand: Taron Egerton

Friar Tuck: Brian May (think early 1990′s Bri)

Chapter 4,

Sherwood forest

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@queendeakyy

@wormzteef

@geek-and-proud

@queen-paladin

___________________________________________________

Gale Hood was riding along back to Sherwood forest to meet up with her brother and Little John, and along the way three more lovely chaps came riding up behind her and called out to her.

“Oi Gale!” cried out a handsome dark haired, blue eyed Scotsman riding a pure black stallion. She turned and smiled and said.

“I see you gentlemen have returned from your voyage. Tell me how were the other towns?” she asked the men.

“About the same as Nottingham is. I fear that if Prince John isn’t stopped he’ll suck the taxes out of not just Nottingham but all of England.” Said a young Welsh man with a tuff of brown hair riding a white horse.

“We’ll find a way Gilbert. One way or another. So how were the Sharpe’s Gale?” said the third gentleman with long shoulder length brown hair riding a brown horse.

“Veronica will soon be feeling better thanks to the medicine you helped me find David.”

Guess I should explain to you gentle readers. These three dashing young men are also apart of Robin and Gale’s Merry men. Sure there have been many tales of just Robin and Little John, but in this story we’re going to shed some light on some more members of the Hood sibling’s gang.

The Scotsman, well that’s really his name in the gang. He was wanted for such crimes back in his Scotland home, that he rid his real name forever and just went by ‘The Scot’. But every now and then he would be called ‘Kit’ by our gang of outlaws.

At first he wasn’t even permitted to join the group (mostly because the Scots and the English didn’t really like each other) less he bested Robin Hood in fair combat (to which he did).

The second chap on the white horse is known as Gilbert Whitehand. He is really the only person (besides Gale) that is up to Robin’s skill with a bow and arrow. He has a keen eye and it is said he can even shoot an arrow without even looking at the target.

He can be quick and rash at times, especially when it’s about protecting the poor people but when need to he can be reasoned with and is above all else loyal to a fault.

The third gentleman with the long brown hair is David of Doncaster. He’s more like the voice of reason of the band. Whenever tempers fly or someone’s about to get killed (and it has happened before on an occasion or ten) David is the one there to make the peace. He and Gale were especially close since they both had a similar experience on how their mother’s were killed when they were kids.

He’s also been her confidant (basically he’s her Little John in a way) especially when James left for London and she was heartbroken.

“That’s good.” There was silence through the air, an awkward silence. So much so that Gale stopped her khaki colored mare and turned towards the three men whose horses stopped and let out a few nickers and neighs at the sudden stop.

“I know what you three are thinking. And believe me I already know.”

“Know what?” asked David.

“Yeah we-we-we don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gilbert tried to play off.

“Don’t lie to me boys. I know that James and Marian are back.”

“What?!” they all faux out innocently. They then each began to say how they didn’t hear about it.

But one look from Gale and they broke down and all said that they knew and heard about it from the town’s over.

“You lot are so adorable.”

“Well it’s just that…..we look at you as our own little sister and well—when James left never did I want to beat the shit out of royalty before.” Gilbert said.

“Yeah and that would’ve gotten you a front row seat to the hangman’s noose.” David said.

“Look we know how happy he made you and—how miserable you were the first few months lassie. So we—but secretly we’ve been thinking that maybe with him back in Nottingham you both could……”

“I’ll stop you right there Kit. It’s been over 6 years since he left. And in that time with him being the next in line he’s destined to find a woman of royalty to marry and support an heir. There’s no future for us anymore.”

“Gale…….”

“You know as well as I do David. Besides he’s probably forgotten all about me.”

“If he had Gale, then why would he give you his family’s ring?” Gilbert asked. Gale clenched the ring around her neck into her fist.

“Robin and Little John are waiting for us. We can’t keep them waiting.” She urged her mare onward.

The three gents looked at one another sympathetically for their female leader but urged their horses onward.

When they got back to the entrance of Sherwood forest. Which lay right by a medium sized water fall. They got off their horses and took the saddles off before sending them off back into the woods.

One by one they walked across the stone-cobbled path that stood over the water before entering behind the waterfall and walked through a tight cave entrance.

And there in the middle of the vast extension of the forest was a campsite with laundry hanging to dry, a few tables and chairs, and a large fireplace surrounded by stones and rocks to keep the flames from spreading.

“YOU’RE BURNING THE FOOD!!” Little John’s voice exclaimed.

“Uh-oh. He’s at it again.” Kit muttered. The four of them walked around a large tree and there was Little John fanning a smoking pot with one of his newly washed clothes.

“Sorry Johnny. Guess I was thinking about Maid Marian again.” Robin said as he wiped his shirt of the soot and ash from the burned dinner. “I can’t help it……I love her John.”

“So you’ve heard too brother?” Gale’s voice soon spoke up. Robin and Little John turned and when they saw the rest of their gang and family arrive, Robin nodded.

“Yeah. And I assume you—”

“Please not—I don’t want to hear another word of it.”

“Look why don’t you two stop pining and moaning about just marry those two already will yah?” Little John said as he tried to cool down and save the burnt food.

“Marry them?!” the siblings exclaimed.

“You don’t just walk up to a girl, hand her a bouquet and say ‘hey remember me? We were kids together will you marry me?’ No. It just isn’t done that way.” Robin said as he mimed out his first statement before turning away solemnly and going to check the laundry.

“Oh c’mon Rob, climb the castle walls. Sweep her off her feet. Carry her off in style.” Gilbert said.

“It’s no use Gilbert, I’ve thought it all out and it just wouldn’t work. Besides what have I got to offer her?” Robin sighed.

“Well for one thing you can’t cook.” Little John said as he sniffed the food before trying to save the taste by dumping some water into it.

“I’m serious lads, she’s a high born lady of quality.”

“So the lass has class. So what?” Kit said.

“I’m an outlaw that’s what!” Robin shouted as he hung the shirt Little John used to fan the food back over a tree branch. “That’s no life for a lovely lady always on the run. What kind of future is that anyways?”

Gale looked at her brother solemnly before looking down at Prince James’ ring and clenched it in her palm.

“Oh for heaven’s sake son!” a voice suddenly cried out. Robin fell into the laundry basket and when he looked up he saw standing before him was the good Friar of Nottingham, Friar Tuck.

He was a middle aged man that stood about 6’2. Surprisingly for a Friar, he had wild curly dark hair. He was a kind hearted soul who not only gave his life into helping the poor people of Nottingham in this time of crisis, but he also was a father figure to our gang of outlaws.

In fact Robin and Gale’s mother had asked the Friar to watch over her two children before she died and he kept that word like it was the word of God.

“You and your sister aren’t outlaws. Why someday you both will be called great heroes.”

“A hero?” laughed Robin. “You hear that sister? We’ve just been pardoned.”

“Well that’s a gag. We hadn’t even been arrested yet.” Gale said releasing the ring from her grip. Friar Tuck walked up to her and gently ruffled her hair as he said.

“Alright laugh and doubt an old Friar you young rouges. But I swear to you there’s going to be a big to-do in Nottingham.” He then walked over to the stewpot, took the spoon that Little John was using and took a small sip of it.

Before anyone could have a chance to warn him that the stew was beyond repair, he started coughing and tears began to stream down his face.

“Well done ain’t it?” he croaked out. David quickly prepped a cup of water and handed it to the good Friar who took it and rinsed out the bad after taste of the burnt stew.

“You’re lucky your cooking didn’t kill him.” Gale hissed lowly to her brother.

“Like you’re any better at cooking than I am.” Robin sneered back.

“No need for arguments children.” Friar Tuck gently scolded as he cleared his throat.

“Sorry Friar.” The two rebels said solemnly like two children being caught doing something naughty.

“Anyway. I bring news from the minstrel.”

“Ahh. And what does ol Alan O’Dale sing about these days?” asked Gilbert as he perched up along his favorite tree branch.

“Tomorrow, Prince John is hosting a championship archery tournament.”

“Archery tournament. Ha! Robin, Gale and I could win that standing on our heads with our eyes closed.” Boasted Gilbert as he fiddled with one of his black tipped arrows and gave a wink at the siblings.

“Oh Gilbert you flatterer. But I’m sure we’re not invited.” Gale said.

“No. But there will be a couple people who’ll be disappointed if you don’t come.” Friar Tuck said as he took another sip of the water.

“Oh yeah. Like ol bushel britches the ‘honorable Sheriff of Nottingham’.” Little John mimicked the Sheriff’s deep monotoned voice.

“And of course let’s not forget the ruler of this land Prince John. ‘Mummy!’” Kit mimicked as he began to suck his thumb.

“No……Maid Marian and Prince James.”

“Marian?” Robin said in shock.

“And James?” Gale whispered in the same tone.

“Yes. The prize along with a golden arrow is that she’ll also be giving a kiss to the winner.” Friar Tuck winked at the rest of the band before softly chuckling.

“A kiss to the winner?” Robin gasped happily. “Oo-de-lally! C’mon you lot what are we waiting for!?” Robin cheered ecstatically.

“Wait a minute now Robin! What if this is a trap? You know how both Prince John and the Sheriff both want your head for different reasons. What if this is some plot to lure you out?” David warned.

“You underestimate me my dear David. Besides, faint hearts never won fair lady. So fear not my friend, this will be my greatest performance!”

“Where’s Gale?” Little John soon spoke up. As the six men looked around, they did notice that their only female rouge was in fact missing.

“I’ll go find her.” Robin said.

“Pardon me Robin, but allow me to go find your sister.” Friar Tuck offered. Robin, secretly knowing that his own sister probably didn’t want to talk to him, allowed Friar Tuck to go search for his sister.

Further down the trail that Friar Tuck used to enter Sherwood Forest, he found Gale sitting among a field of veronica flowers. Friar Tuck smiled solemnly and walked up towards her and said.

“It is said that the Veronica flower symbolizes fidelity and love. I even saw Prince James pick up a few of these flowers when he and Marian first arrived back to Nottingham. And I could tell that he was thinking of you.” Gale continued to look down at the flowers, fiddling with the purple buds within. “You doubt my words my dear?”

“No. I believe it.” She muttered. Friar Tuck looked at her with soft eyes. “Friar Tuck……was it my fault for loving him?”

“Love is not a fault. Nor is it a flaw.” She looked at him confused. He did sometimes like to talk in strange riddles and tongues and it sometimes did get annoying to her when he did that, especially to her. “I also seem to recall seeing the scar on his chin from when you first met and you knocked that rock against his handsome face.”

That at least got a smile out of Gale. A real smile to which the good Friar softly chuckled.

“Listen my child;” he placed his arm over her shoulders and the two looked at each other as he continued, “Love is a deep magic that is the most powerful thing the good Lord has given us. It helps us define right from wrong. And governs all of our destines. Yours, mine, your brother’s, as well as Marian and James.”

“But what if he’s forgotten about me?”

“If he had then he never would’ve come back with Marian.”

“And what about forgiveness?” she said sadly as she looked down, tears filling her eyes. Friar Tuck gently wiped a hidden tear from the corner of her eye and he said.

“My sweet Gale. I understand your fear about meeting James after what happened between the two of you. But I need you to also consider of what James has gone through. My good friend King Richard has told me of how depressed his son has become since that day.”

“You really think I should go see him, don’t you?” she asked after a long silence between the two of you.

“It’s not my place to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do. You are a mature, beautiful young woman. All I ask is that you make the choice that you won’t regret making.” He tucked a strand of her wild black hair behind her ear before placing his hand against her cheek.

She nuzzled against his warm palm before Friar Tuck placed his forehead against hers.

The two of them remained in that position. Gale Hood drawing strength and love from the good Friar who had been the only father figure she had ever known in her whole life.

He gave her a gentle and loving kiss to her forehead before standing back up and left her to return to the church. Gale looked down at the ring and unhooked the chain from her neck. She let it drop down to her palm and she looked down to admire the family crest.

The proud lion staring right into her very soul. As tears poured down her face, she placed the ring to her lips before finally for the first time in years, placing the ring back onto her left thumb (since it was the only finger it would fit on her).

When she returned back to her camp, her brother was the first to look up at her. The others soon followed and the men waited patiently for her to speak.

“Whatever you lot have hatched up—I want in.” Robin walked up to his sister and asked her.

“You sure?”

“I’ve been wallowing in self-pity and guilt for years. I—I want to finally clear my conscious and finally face my past head on.” Robin smiled at his little sister and pressed his forehead against hers, their noses grazing one another’s.

“I’m proud of you sister. We’ll get through this together.” Gale nodded and repeated.

“Together forever.”

“Never apart.” Robin whispered. He then came around to her side, slinging his arm over Gale and he said. “Gents, slight change to the plan now. We’ve got ourselves a new actor in our midst. Here’s what will happen now.”

Throughout the night, our band of rouges rehearsed and rehearsed their upcoming performance and this time both Robin and Gale would get the closure they needed.

Finally reuniting with their childhood lovers and hopefully rekindle the flames that they feared were long extinguished.

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taronfanfic · 5 years

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One All

Madden: Taron Egerton, Golden Globe winner! Big congrats man, all the love, knew you’d get it! Catch up when you’re back in London? R Xx

Taron’s phone hadn’t stopped since the announcement was made and he could feel it vibrating in his jacket with every new text that came through. It was only as his award was getting engraved that he had a chance to look at the screen and that one text in particular. He caught himself smiling widely as he read the message and then remembered that there were plenty of cameras and eyes still on him, so he tried to act more cool as he formed a reply.

T: Thanks Rich, we need a drink or 5 for sure! I feel exactly how you looked when you’d won yours this time last year. It’s insane! Xx

Madden: Take as much of it in as you can. I was so glad to have you there with me that night… ending the night in the best way ;)

T: Well it’s 1-1 now so are you jumping on the next flight over here, or do I have to wait?

Madden: I’ll make it worth the wait, don’t you worry!

T: The fact I know you will is both terrifying and deeply arousing. Shit. Love you. Xx

***

The look of shock and surprise on Taron’s face when he answered his door and found Richard standing in front of him with a bottle of red wine was priceless. The night of the Globes was a total whirlwind for him and he’d completely forgotten that he’d text Richard in the middle of it all.

“My gamble paid off! I was hoping you’d be back by now and also at home tonight so I figured we could have a catch up over a few glasses of this?” Richard held the wine bottle up for Taron to take as he stepped back and invited Richard inside.

“Yeah yeah, of course! What a nice surprise. How are you, man?”

“I’m good, it’s been a while though hasn’t it?” Richard slipped his jacket from his shoulders and hung it over one of Taron’s on the coat rack.

“Way too long. You’re a busy man these days and if you’re not working then you’re clearly in the gym, look at these arms!” Taron couldn’t help but touch Richards bicep, noticing the change to Richard physique as his black t-shirt now fitted snugly across his bulked out chest, shoulders and arms.

“Comes with the marvel contract.” Richard shrugged nonchalantly but the grin that appeared on his face let Taron know he was pleased he’d noticed. “Which I’m sure you’ll be reading over imminently…”

“Yeah?”

“Oh come on, you don’t have to keep it quiet around me. I’ve put in a good word for you, and I’m sure that new shiny Golden Globe will be in your favour.” As Richard turned around to point to Taron’s award, proudly placed in the centre of his shelf, there was no stopping Taron’s eyes from drifting down Richard’s back to his bum.

“We’ll see…”

“You’re quiet tonight, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” Taron replied too quickly.

“Relax then, open the wine and come and join me.” Richard sat with his arm spread wide across the back of the sofa, watching as Taron pulled the cork from the bottle and poured two large glasses. “Have I made you nervous?” It was genuine concern coming from Richard as he took a glass from Taron’s hand and had a long sip.

“Caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting this tonight.” Taron replied honestly as he sat next to Richard. “My head’s not really settled from the weekend yet. It’s a lot to take in.”

“I know, it’ll take a few weeks. You’ll be fine by the time you have to do an Oscars winning speech.” Richard teased and made Taron laugh.

“That won’t be happening!”

“I hope not! I have no plans to be here on my knees two months running.”

“Shame.” Taron joked back this time with a smirk and suddenly the atmosphere was lifted. “So do I have to continue the small talk or can I put your mouth to better use?”

“I’ve not even finished my wine yet!” Richard blushed and giggled.

“You can finish it after, I’m not going to kick you out.”

“Why the rush then?”

“Because I was turned on as soon as I realised why you were here, and more turned on when I saw how ripped you are… also Emily could be back any minute and-” Taron never got to finish his sentence as Richard rushed in to silence him with a kiss.

“Now is good with me.”

Taron’s hands were frantic with the button and zip of his jeans, lifting his hips so he could bundle the denim down his thighs far enough for Richard to free his semi from his boxers. Smiles were shared in close proximity, eyes looking straight at each other as Richard’s hand wrapped around Taron’s shaft and caused Taron to giggle softly.

“It’s been way too long.” Richard thought aloud.

“Us or in general?”

“Both.” He admitted and Taron responded with a heavy, needy kiss. It had definitely been too long for them but nothing felt weird now they were back in this position. Taron’s hand gripped in the back of Richard’s hair as he continued to kiss him, his erection grew harder under Richard’s touch and then a thought entered his mind that amused him.

“Rich?... I’ve sort of won a Golden Globe for doing this with you.” The pair laughed loudly and Richard shook his head as he slid off the edge of the sofa and settled himself between Taron’s legs.

“I’d call you a dickhead for that comment, but I’m not exactly in the best position for making those kind of insults. I am, however, so pleased that you won it, and so proud. So enjoy.” With that Richard set to work, engulfing Taron quickly and letting his tongue lubricate as much of his shaft as he could. Taron groaned softly as he relaxed his head back to the cushion and took in the sight between his thighs. The change of mouth, tongue and lips working over him was refreshing and exciting. Richard had different ways. He knew what he was doing for sure. The rhythm he moved with was spot on, the way he applied pressure just before the tip and dragged his tongue was sending Taron wild. His moans turned into deep groans and whispered swears started to become audible to Richard. It wasn’t going to take long at all for Taron to spill everything to the back of Richard’s throat. Richard wanted to take Taron to the edge and keep him there; he did for a while, teasing his balls between his fingertips and watching the pre-cum drip from his tip until Taron was almost begging for more.

“Rich. Fuck, Richard.” Taron sighed as his hand slid over his own thigh and into the back of Richard’s hair, pushing his face back towards his needy cock. It was all the asking Richard needed and he bobbed over Taron’s length for another minute before feeling and then hearing the moan of satisfaction that came with Taron’s orgasm. “God, you’re good.” Taron sighed as he kept his eyes closed and felt the sofa shift next to him from Richard’s weight, basking in the calmness that now flooded his body.

“Made up for not being with you on the night?”

“Absolutely.” He moved himself back into his boxers and pulled his jeans back up before sitting forward to collect his wine. “Might have to make you my awards show plus one from now on, just in case.”

“I think Emily might have something to say about that.” Richard laughed just before they both heard the front door open. A look of ‘fuck that was close’ was shared before grins and giggles were hidden with long sips of wine and then desperately replaced with what they hoped to be innocent expressions.

Tag list: @aynsleywalker @tom-hollands-wife @nataschalena2 @captaindirtcowboy

#taron egerton #Richard Madden #taron x richard #taron egerton x richard madden #madderton #taron egerton fanfiction #taron egerton fanfic

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takeontaron-blog · 5 years

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Personal Assistant - Chapter One

Hey, everyone. A request for a threesome one-shot turned me wanting to write a multi-chapter story, so here it begins. Will become NSFW rather quickly. Please leave feedback, and thank you for reading!! <3

Taron x Reader x Richard

You inhaled deeply as you stepped out of your car, straightening your skirt before striding towards the door. Today was your first day as a personal assistant to actor Taron Egerton’s PA. His fame had risen so rapidly within the past few months that his PA, Connie, had decided she needed some extra help, and you two took to each other immediately in the interviewing process. You hadn’t met Taron as of yet, but you were sure you would soon enough, and as you stepped into the elevator that would take you to Taron’s suite where Connie and the rest of his crew were this morning, you tried to calm your nerves. First days are always nerve racking, this would be no different but just stay quiet, do as you’re told, you’ll be fine, you told yourself repeatedly in your head. You stepped out of the elevator and knocked on the specified door, and Connie herself opened it with a smile.

“Y/N! Come on in, thanks so much for being on time.”

“Oh, of course!” you smiled back, stepping inside as Connie closed the door. She quickly motioned around the room, casually introducing you to the rest of the crew, who all welcomed you warmly. Good, this was going well. Not as stressful as you had imagined it might be. You followed Connie to a large sofa and sat down beside her, being careful to keep a respectful distance as you perched on the edge of the sofa.

“So,” Connie began as the rest of the crew went about continuing their work and talking amongst themselves, “here’s your work phone.” She handed you a shiny new cell, the latest model of its kind. “Everyone you’re working with in this room has already had their numbers and contact info put into the phone. This will be on you at all times, night and day, never silenced. You will only use this phone for work purposes, and you can contact me at any time on it.”

You nodded as you took the phone from her. “This is what we need to have finished by the end of the week.” You were handed a few sheets of paper. “Everything is pretty cut and dried, I need you to book all these rooms and events. The people you’ll be calling have already been notified by me that we’ll be in touch to confirm reservations. That’s your job for now. Also,” she dug through her folder and pulled out a ticket, “I need you to pick up Taron’s dry cleaning as well as his tailored suits that are waiting for him downtown at Armani. On your way back, you’ll grab a coffee order for everyone, I’ll text you what to order in just a bit. Also, this is your credit card, which you already know is solely for business purposes. If there’s any unexpected charges that come up when you’re going to, for example, pick up the suits and the cashier has an extra fee for something that was not paid for originally, go ahead and use this card, just always keep the receipts and bring them to me. Okay?” she smiled, and your head reeled a bit. She had just given a lot of information in less than a couple minutes and she didn’t even seemed fazed. You smiled back as you accepted the ticket and credit card. “Got it.”

“Perfect. So I’ll let you get on with your work. Always know what time the stores close that you’ll need to be stopping at, and other than that, work on your own time, as long as we get all those reservations confirmed before the end of the week.”

Seemed easy enough, you mused. “Do you mind if I go begin my work at that table over there?” you nodded towards a glass breakfast table that sat in an upper corner of the room by a ceiling-to-floor length window. It was bright and a little ways away from the rest of the group.

“Oh, yeah, just make yourself at home.” Connie waved her hand in a casual manner as she immediately went back to the paperwork she had been working on when you had arrived. You moved yourself and your work to the table, tucking the credit card and dry cleaning ticket into your wallet before scanning the phone list where each entry had a company name, person to ask for/speak to on the phone, as well as multiple numbers for each contact. You took a breath and dialed the first one.

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

A couple hours later, you decided it was time for a break from phone calls and stood up to stretch. You weren’t sure if you should interrupt Connie to tell her you were going to head out to pick up the clothes and coffee, as she was in deep conversation with someone and they seemed to be having a disagreement and you didn’t want to get in the middle of that. Instead, you decided to quietly slip out and opened your phone, sending Connie a quick text saying you were getting the clothes and to send you the coffee order when it was convenient. You were stepping out of the elevator in the lobby when your phone chimed, and you sighed in relief when you saw Connie’s text: “perfect, thanks. :)”

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

The coffee shop Connie had told you to go to was a couple blocks down from the hotel, which wasn’t the end of the world except you were struggling to carry all the heavy clothes draped over one arm, the Armani bag hanging from the other, and two coffee holders full of hot drinks in each hand. You somehow maneuvered yourself into the elevator, pressing the floor button with your hip, and exhaled happily when you reached the door to the hotel room, “knocking” on it with your foot. One of the crew, Michael, opened the door for you, taking the coffee holders from you as you gratefully thanked him.

“Uhm, excuse me,” you said softly, “where should I put the clothes?”

“Usually Taron likes to look at them before they get hung up in the closet, there’s a display rack right inside the bedroom.” He pointed to the door, and you thanked him, heading that way and finding the rack Michael had mentioned easily. You hung up the dry cleaning and began pulling the suits out of the bag to hang them up on the empty wooden hangers to the left of the rack when you were startled by a voice behind you.

“Oh, thanks so much!”

You turned around, still holding one of the suits. Taron’s smile greeted you, and you begged yourself not to say or do anything stupid. “Oh! Hi, yeah, no problem.” Okay, that wasn’t that bad, you told yourself as you went back to hanging up the last suit.

“You’re Connie’s new assistant?” Taron asked, coming to stand next to you.

You smiled. “I am, yes.”

He extended his hand. “Taron.”

You shook it. “Y/N.”

“Very lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

Just then Connie popped her head around the corner, knocking on the wall to announce her presence. “Hey, Y/N, emergency.”

You nodded, attempting to finish putting the hanger into the coat of the suit when the wooden piece fell from your hand. Fuck. It wasn’t a huge deal, you knew, but it still irked you, especially looking clumsy on your first day and in front of both your boss and Taron. You felt the coat being taken away from you gently and looked up to see Taron nodding towards Connie. “You’re busy, I’ll take care of the suit. Thanks so much for picking everything up, Y/N.”

“Oh…of…of course,” you stammered, following Connie out of the room, willing your face not to flush.

“Hey,” Connie said quickly, beginning to explain the issue at hand. Something major had come up and she would end up needing your constant assistance tomorrow and the next day, and so she needed the reservations to be completed before midnight tonight. You eyes grew wide the tiniest bit, but you didn’t want her to think you weren’t able to get handle it.

“Done,” you said simply.

Connie smiled in relief. “You’re doing great. Be here at 6 am first thing tomorrow. Text me if you need anything.” With that, she turned on her heel and hurried back to the sofa to her work.

You suddenly felt a little uncomfortable in this room full of strangers, and you approached Connie quietly. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but would it be alright if I finished the phone calls elsewhere?”

‘Yeah, that’s fine. Just get it done.” Connie did her little wave thing that basically meant “whatever, just leave me alone.”

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

You hung up the phone, sighing loudly as you glanced at the clock. 11:54 p.m. You had made it, you realized with relief. Every reservation confirmed. You checked off the final one on the list and groggily stood up to get ready for bed.

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

You woke up at 4:30 a.m. to the chiming of your work cell, blinking back against the bright light as you glanced at the screen. “Coffee order enclosed, the shop opens at 5:30.” You groaned at the text from Connie, wanting to get some more sleep especially since you had gone to bed so late, but you knew you wanted to look your best for work and it took a good thirty minutes to drive to the hotel where you had to be at, so you forced yourself awake as you read through the coffee order and padded into the bathroom, hoping a hot shower would stir up the senses a bit.

An hour later, you were the first in line at the coffee shop. You still felt exhausted but your excitement for the second day of work was helping you push through. You had worn your favorite baby blue skirt suit today, which made you feel pretty, and you glanced at your reflection in the window of the shop, tucking a loose hair behind your ear as you picked up the drink carriers and began your two block walk to the hotel.

You made it up to the room, knocking on the door using your foot again. Silence. Confused, you set down one of the carriers and looked at your phone to see if Connie had changed the meeting place, but upon not seeing anything, you sent a quick text. “I’m here.” You pressed send as you knocked again, this time with your fist, then picked up the second coffee carrier again. Your phone chimed at the exact moment the door opened slightly, and you were taken aback by seeing a half-asleep Taron peeping through the crack. You both stared at each other for a moment, confusion taking over, but then he opened the door a bit wider as he laid his head sleepily on the doorframe.

“Y/N.” He smiled, his morning voice breathy with a hint of rasp.

“I, uhh, I’m so sorry, I thought I was supposed to meet Connie here.” You stumbled over your words as you glanced down to notice he was only wearing a pair of sweatpants, and you forced your eyes to stay on his face, embarrassed. Your phone chimed again.

“Here,” Taron took one of the coffee holders from you, chuckling. “I bet that’s Connie panicking that she forgot to tell you she would be at a different location.”

You looked at your phone. “I don’t see you?” the first text read, followed by, “OH shit! I’m so stupid, I forgot to tell you that we’re meeting at my place this morning!” As you finished reading the second text, a third one came in with an address, followed by a fourth. “So freaking sorry, Y/N. Don’t knock on the door at the hotel, you’ll wake Taron.”

“Too late?!” you wanted to text back. Instead, “On my way,” you typed quickly, then looked apologetically at the half-naked, half-awake man standing in front of you. “I am so sorry,” you began, reaching for the coffee.

Taron chuckled again, running a hand through his hair. “Not to worry, you woke me from a shit nightmare anyway.” He smiled. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He began closing the door, then paused before completely shutting it. “Nice suit.”

The door shut and you heard the lock click in place. You thought you might start crying or raging or….just….something. Okay, just get the fuck to Connie’s place and everything will be fine, you told yourself, basically running back to your car, carefully placing the drink holders in the floor of the back seat to negate any spills, as you sped to the correct destination, the image of Taron burned into your mind and making you not really want to think about anything else.

Connie had been insanely apologetic when you had arrived, and you tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal, making sure to avoid any mention of waking Taron. You figured Connie wouldn’t actually be upset about that, since it had been an honest mistake, but she already seemed stressed out and on-edge this morning so you didn’t want to push your luck. There were twice as many people at Connie’s place as there had been at Taron’s the day before, and you found out that he and Richard Madden had decided to work on a short film together with the plan to premiere it at Cannes the following year, and so Richard’s crew was busy planning and working out the kinks with Taron’s crew. You were quickly introduced to all the people you hadn’t met the day before, and work began.

Two hours, a few dozen emails and phone calls and a large black coffee later, you rubbed your temples and tried to breathe. This was absolutely crazy. You didn’t know all the details, as you were just there to cover what Connie didn’t have time to, but basically it seemed that Richard and Taron had planned this last-minute and there were issues with funding and the studio having sufficient stage room, etc. It was all overwhelming and since you were super green when it came to how films were made, you tried not to think too much about it and just focus on your work.

Richard’s PA stood up, loudly announcing he had news. “Richard’s plane is landing in forty minutes, and he wants to be involved in talking to the execs and helping us get things pushed through. Connie, would Taron be game to join?” Upon seeing her nod, the PA said he’d confirm the meeting place and would send texts out accordingly.

A little while later, everyone was back at the hotel where Richard had booked the largest suite the building offered to accommodate everyone who needed to be present. You settled on the end of one of the sofas, wanting to stay out of the way of those who were leading the meeting. Richard had opened the door for everyone upon arrival, and even though you hadn’t met him directly, he smiled kindly at you as you had stepped inside, making eye contact for a second longer than you would have expected. You tried not to stare, of course, but for some reason you were mildly fascinated with the way Richard’s hair had a silver streak in it -

“Hello again!” a cheerful voice brought you back to reality. Taron sat down on the couch arm right next to you, smiling cheekily. Your heart skipped a beat, both from surprise and also from embarrassment from earlier that morning.

“Hi,” you smiled shyly. You hadn’t seen him come in, so you assumed he must have been in another room when you arrived.

“I’m about to make some tea, would you like some?” Taron offered. You weren’t exactly sure what to do, since technically you were the one supposed to get drinks and snacks when people wanted them -

“Don’t overthink it.” Taron broke through your thoughts, winking at you. “It’s just tea.”

You let out a small laugh. “Yeah, alright, tea would be great. Thank you.” Taron headed to the kitchen area, and you realized you’d never been in a room this large and fancy before. You leaned back into the sofa in an attempt to relax a little when you noticed Richard on the other end of the room, staring at you. You shot him a small smile before your eyes went to stare at the carpet, still aware of his soft eyes looking your way for a moment longer before being distracted by his PA coming over to talk to him. Taron returned, handing your cup to you.

You sipped the warm liquid as everyone began settling down to start the meeting, Taron choosing to remain next to you on the sofa arm.

“I’m, uhh, sorry again,” you said softly, referring to earlier that morning.

“No harm done.” Taron lightly traced a finger along the seam of your suit that connected the arm to the shoulder. Your eyes followed his fingers before looking up at him, and his eyes met yours. “This really is a beautiful color on you, Y/N.”

#taron egerton #taron #taron egerton hot #taron egerton fanfiction #taron egerton fic #taron x reader #taron x reader fic #taron x richard #taron x reader x richard #richard madden #richard madden fanfiction

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tarontherocketman · 4 years

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Mr Madden | Madderton Teacher AU | Chapter 1

Ok SO, here’s the first chapter, I know it’s boring and short but just bear with me I didn’t want to jump straight into the action and drama because I genuinely haven’t written fanfiction since I was a teenager (I’m 22!) so I needed to familiarise myself with writing again and re-establish my writing style it’s a little bit choppy right now but I’ll get there over the next few chapters! Anyway, here goes! lowkey nervous that it’s been too long since I wrote and everyone will hate it

Taron sat in an empty classroom chewing mindlessly on the end of a pen, a stack of unmarked homework in front of him that he was already 95% sure he would be taking home with him tonight if this day didn’t get any better. Why did Drama students even need to do homework like this? They have enough homework from all the other classes, Drama should be their slice of freedom and self expression for the week, that’s how Taron saw it anyway. Of course, he could never say this aloud, he had to follow the system regardless of whether he liked it or not. After a small argument in his head about staying focused, Taron finally put pen to paper and began to write, not even writing one single letter before-

“For fuck sake,” he groaned quietly, forcing himself out of the chair and kicking it back behind him as he got up and walked to the door and around the building to the window he had just spotted it out of, another fight.

“Ok break it up lads come on,” he said sternly, not even needing to fully intervene with the wannabe hard nut year 7s. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Sorry Sir!” they both said hurriedly as they scuttled off around the corner, afraid of receiving a detention. Taron rolled his eyes and sauntered back to his classroom, not even reaching the door before deciding he needs a coffee before he can even think of marking more homework. At this thought, he veers away from the door to the drama block to head toward the main building to the teachers lounge, muttering a polite “alright” accompanied with a small nod to the students greeting him as he walked down the hallway. Said students, of course, being girls. The girls all had a thing for him and he knew it, he saw the way they all gushed at him. Little did they know.

“Have you seen the new History teacher?” a girl in the hallway squealed to her friend as she stood leaning against the wall, phone in one hand, bright pink bedazzled water bottle in the other. Taron’s ears pricked up, new History teacher? he thought, picking up the pace to the staff room to find out what was going on. Once he arrived, he pushed the door handle and poked his head round the door before fully entering. That’s when he saw him.

New History teacher, indeed..

In front of his eyes was the most gorgeous blue eyed man he had ever seen, thick lush brown hair with just the right amount of curl, perfect body, nice legs-

“Ah, Mr Egerton! Meet Mr Madden, he’s just joined today to replace Mr Little in the History department!” the excessively perky Head Teacher exclaimed, waving rather over enthusiastically towards the blue eyed beauty.

“Richard,” he introduced, extending his hand to Taron.

Scottish, as if he wasn’t dreamy enough.

“I- nice to meet you, I’m Taron, Drama,” Taron just about spluttered out, going in for the handshake offered, looking to the floor for lack of a better place to look without dying inside a little. Taron mentally pinched himself, he knew he needed to stop feeling like this. He vowed to himself as soon as he got this job that he’d keep out of anything of this sort, the last thing he needs is the entire school finding out he’s gay, so with this in mind he generally keeps his head down and lays low. Does his job, goes home. He can’t get soft for a teacher now after he’s come this far without screwing up and letting his guard down.

“Drama? I admire your confidence,” Richard commented with a smile. Taron chuckled softly.

“Not your thing?” he asked.

“Nah, just getting in to teaching was far enough out of my confidence zone! It’s done me a lot of good though- sorry I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this,” Richard stopped himself suddenly, a bit flustered.

“No no don’t worry,” Taron assured, “coffee?” he offered, gesturing as he walked over to the small staff coffee machine to make his own.

“Yeah would love one, thanks” Richard replied. Taron grabbed an extra mug for Richard, pouring two coffees from the pot that had already been prepared by the other staff who were coming and going from the cosy staff room. Taron handed Richard a coffee and the two naturally gravitated to a pair of chairs sat by the window.

“So, History?” Taron sparked up a conversation.

“Yeah!” Richard laughed softly, habitually rubbing the back of his neck. “I just got interested in it I guess, not sure I remember how..” he began to trail off, taking a long sip of coffee, “I actually used to be interested in acting.”

“Ahh my speciality,” Taron smirked, “what happened to that?” Richard sighed heavily, taking another sip of coffee.

“Ah I just don’t have the confidence,” he admitted.

“That’s fair enough mate, takes a lot of that I have to admit,” Taron nodded slowly, “never know, maybe one day!” Richard looked down and made a small ‘hmm’ sound with a smile. The pair sat in peace finishing their coffee before Richard placed his hands on his legs and sighed, signalling that it was time for him to get going.

“First class?” Taron asked gently.

“Yeah..I’m really nervous not gonna lie,” Richard confessed, feeling his cheeks go slightly pink.

“Aw don’t worry mate you’ll be absolutely fine, first one’s the worst. Do you have another teacher there observing you?”

“I do, and I’m not sure if that’s making me feel better or worse,” Richard replied, Taron laughed and nodded in agreement.

“I’ll walk you there if you like?” he offered.

“I would actually love that I’m still finding my way around,” Richard replied gratefully, standing up to put his coffee cup in the sink and walk to his new classroom with Taron, making small talk on the way there such as ‘what are the students like?’ or ‘are the other teachers nice?’ questions which Taron had elaborate answers for but not enough time to tell all his stories about, which resulted in him awkwardly asking Richard if he would maybe want to meet up for a drink at some point so he can “tell him his many stories”. Richard quickly agreed, which actually surprised Taron.

“Great, yeah, cool, I’ll talk to you soon then and we can..you know, arrange..something,” Taron stumbled very ungracefully and not near as smoothly as he thought that would sound in his head before he said it, inwardly facepalming.

“Yeah yeah good shout, see you later,” Richard smiled warmly, disappearing into his new classroom, pretending not to be trembling ever so slightly.

Later that night

Taron was curled up at the end of his sofa, iPad in his lap ready to open Facebook to try and find Richard and have a small social media stalk just to see his face again, those big blue eyes were calling him. He racked his brain for his surname, what was he introduced as? It definitely began with an M. He began typing ‘Richard M’ hoping facebook would magically know who he was searching for, but Richard was too common of a name.

“Mm…M…Mmm, ma?” he thought aloud before pausing suddenly, “Madden!” he sighed, rolling his eyes at his own forgetfulness. He typed in the name and found him pretty easily. Excitedly clicking on his profile and doing the obligatory flick through the profile pictures, short scroll down the feed, clicking on some pictures he’d been tagged in, asking himself if this was creepy or if everyone did it. Or both. He also mentally noted to himself to remind Richard that now he’s a teacher, changing his privacy settings would be a very smart idea, some of those students are crazy, especially for young male teachers like Richard and Taron.

Cute Taron thought to himself, zooming in on a group photo when he spotted Richard chilling in the far left of it. He came out of the picture and hovered his finger over the ‘add friend’ button, wondering if it was too soon. At that moment, as if in some sort of cartoon or movie, the bread he had put in the toaster a few minutes ago suddenly popped up, making him jump and press the button by accident. How does that even happen? He definitely looked too eager adding him already but it was done now, no point cancelling the request in case Richard already had his phone in his hand, that would be even more weird. Taron put his iPad to the side to grab his toast, buttering it and bringing it back to the sofa, noticing his iPad light up with a message. He hurriedly sat down and ignored the toast he had just made, picking the iPad up hastily and opening the message.

1 new message: Richard Madden Richard: hey, again x

“Heh,” Taron chuckled, loving a guy that puts a single kiss at the end of a message, deciding he should reflect his message the same way.

Taron: hey you x

Taron flinched after hitting send, realising suddenly how weird that sounded.

Richard: ha, ‘you’ love that x

Taron: yea sorry wasn’t thinking haha x

Richard: no you’re fine it’s sweet! when are we going for that drink then? x

Taron: well when are you free?x

Richard’s typing bubble appeared, disappeared and reappeared quite a few times suggesting he was on the fence about his answer, a quirk which Taron found quite cute.

Richard: ...tomorrow night?x

Taron: yep definitely up for that! How did your first day go by the way? Didn’t end up seeing you for the rest of the day x

Richard: yeah was all good definitely didn’t need to be as nervous as I was x

Taron: nice one knew you’d smash it mate! Anyway I better eat the toast that I forgot about and get to bed, bright and early for school tomorrow!x

Richard: I know right feels weird saying school tomorrow again but as a teacher now not a student, sure I’ll get used to it, night T x

“T, I like that..” Taron thought, should he nickname Richard too? It only seemed fair..

Taron: night Rich x

Taron lay his iPad down on the table for the last time that day, shovelling toast in his mouth before taking his plate to the kitchen to wash up and get settled for bed, trying to ignore the slight feeling of butterflies in his stomach every time he thought about his drink with Rich the following night, this might be a doorway into the exact thing he promised himself not to do when he started this job, but he couldn’t resist.

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Tag list: @taron-eggmcmuffin

#madderton #madderton fanfiction #richard madden #taron egerton #taron x richard #richard x taron #fanfiction #teacher #madderton teacher au #alternate universe #teacher au #rocketman

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writingformadderton · 4 years

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Just wanted to let you know that I'm working on several of your requests at the same time which is why we haven't posted any yet, I'm trying to get them done and edited 😘 ~Nati 💜

#request open #requests #request #taron egerton fanfiction #taron x reader #taron x richard #richard madden fanfiction #richard madden x reader

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agent-ccarter · 5 years

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I fucking love you. taron egerton.

Request for @fuckyeahsebastianstan

Request (Honestly the way this is written made me laugh so much i lOVE IT): “mate your taron omggggggggggggggggggg I CRIED. PLEASE DO SOMETHIN W TARON BEIN INSECURE N WANTS HIS ROOMMATE TO BE W HIM FOR LONGER THAN 30 MINS (cuz he loves her but she doesn't know n shite) fuck I'm not good w givin bloody ideas. But loved the Taron Imagines, keep it goin mate”

Pairing: Taron x reader

Warnings: none really, a lil bit of angst, some swearing

Summary: Taron can’t stand the idea of the girl he loves going out on anymore dates, but unluckily for him, she’s too blind to see what’s right in front of her.

(CAN I JUST CLARIFY, I’M FROM YORKSHIRE, AND TEA = EVENING DINNER. I’M SORRY :’))

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“What do you fancy for tea tonight, Y/N?” Taron shouted from the kitchen, poking his head out from behind the fridge door as he looked at what they had in. You’d been living with Taron for quite a while, and had seen him go from a small actor in plays to a huge Hollywood star. You had fully expected him to move out and buy a huge mansion once he started becoming more of a household name, but he stayed in your little house in west London, something you never properly understood. You didn’t dislike living with him, in fact, that’s far from it, but you could never understand why he’d still want to live with you when he is so famous.

“Didn't I tell you?” You asked as you walked down the stairs, “I’m out tonight, sorry!” Taron couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice as he shot back an “Alright”, but your position in the living room meant that you couldn’t hear the upset. He walked to join you in the living room, settling on ordering a takeaway for tea. You sat on the sofa, scrolling on your phone in a red dress; Taron could barely control himself. He’d loved you since he could remember, and every time you went out on a date and it wasn’t with him, he could swear he felt his heart break a little bit.

“Who are you out with tonight? Someone from tinder? Or just a random guy you picked up in a bar?” Taron almost seethed as he sat in the chair with a huff. He hadn’t meant to come across so cruel, or maybe he had, but his last intention was to upset you. You locked your phone, the tiny click cutting the tension in the air as you looked up at the red-faced man.

“Have you got a problem, Taron?” You could clearly see he took issue with your many failed date attempts, but you could see that it wasn’t the whole story.

“Have I got a problem, Y/N?” He looked into your eyes for the first time since he had entered the room, his voice raising slightly with every word, “Have I got a problem with the fact that you’re out every night with random guys you’ve never met? Or a problem with the fact that we share this flat, yet I can’t remember a time that we spent more than 30 minutes together, just talking or drinking or watching a movie like we did at Uni?”

You couldn’t quite believe what you just heard. You took a big intake of breath; you intended to simply sit in silence, yet Taron’s angry words just didn’t sit right.

“Well, Taron,” you sat further forward in your seat. “I’m sorry my personal life bothers you so much. What do you expect me to do? Do you want me to sit in the flat all day, cooking and cleaning ready for you to get back from set and to have a meal and talk about your day? Because, I’m sorry if it hurts for you to hear it, but I’m not going to stop living my life just because you don’t like it.” You angrily wiped the tears from your face and began to walk to the kitchen.

“No, Y/N. You can live your life, go out drinking with friends, I don’t care,” Taron too was just crying at this point, the odd tear rolling down his cheek, and falling from his jaw onto his blue t-shirt, “all I ask is you stop wasting nights going out with men who just want quick sex and will leave you in the morning. I want you to stop in your quest for love with a random guy from a pub and see that I fucking love you. I’ve always loved you.” He widened his eyes, the realisation in them mimicking your own.

I fucking love you.

He took your silence as a negative sign, beginning to blurt out a mixture of “I’m sorry” and murmurs of “That was out of line”. You stood, furiously wiping at your face and sniffling loud as you tried to process what Taron had just said.

I fucking love you.

He huffed loudly, regretting everything he just said and sat back down in the chair with a thud, head resting in his hands. The hands meant he didn’t see you smile slightly as you fully digested what he said, or see you kneel in front of him; it was only when you grabbed his chin that he even realized you were sat there. He looked astounded and watched your every move as you moved forwards and kissed him, softly at first. His eyes remained open as he allowed himself to fully digest that you, Y/N Y/L/N, the girl he’d been in love since freshers week, was actually kissing him.

You pulled away, allowing a smile to rise on your face.

“I fucking love you too, Taron Egerton,” you whispered, leaving your lips so close to his own that he could grab you this time, slipping the girl he’d loved for so long into his arms, finally.

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I really hope you like this imagine, lovely! I had so much fun writing it!

Requests are open!! Ask away!!

#taron egerton #taron Egerton imagine #taron Egerton x reader #taron Egerton x y/n #taron Egerton fanfiction #taron #egerton #kingsman #eggsy unwin #testament of youth #sing #rocketman #legend #Elton john #Richard madden

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