#richard madden x nurse

[bbywhitefox123]

description: Essex in an ER nurse and Richard Madden needs his wound stitched.

warnings: cheating

Essex leaned against the marble bar, the hard, smooth surface cold against her bare arms, and let the thumping bass of the nightclub drown out the roar of her thoughts. All around her, bodies moved to the pulse of the music, but she couldn't shake the gnawing memory clawing its way to the surface.

She'd dragged her tired ass home that morning, practically dragging her feet, dead on her feet from a double shift that left her hollow inside. That little girl...fuck, she hadn't even been five years old. Essex had stood there, helpless as the flatline echoed through the sterile room. And now she just wanted one thing - Andrew. She needed him to hold her, to tell her everything would be okay, to breathe some goddamn life back into her.

But when she walked into their bedroom, the bed was empty. Sheets twisted in a mess of sweaty fabric, undone, like he'd just rolled out of it. The fuck? It was seven in the goddamn morning - Andrew never got up this early unless he was dragged by the hair.

She heard the shower running from their en suite. A bitter smile tugged at her lips. "You, showering this early? Fuck me, maybe the world is ending," she called out as she leaned against the doorframe.

But there was no answer. And then, she heard it-Andrew's voice.

From behind her.

Essex had spun around so fast she nearly tripped over her own feet. There he was, standing in the doorway of the bedroom, holding a tray with breakfast. A smug grin plastered on his face like he hadn't just ripped the fucking floor from under her.

Her breath hitched as she whipped back to the bathroom. And that's when she saw her - a woman, dripping wet, stepping out of the shower like she fucking belonged there. Her face flushed, her dark hair stuck to her shoulders like some goddamn soft-core porno star. Her hair smelling of Essex’s new vanilla shampoo, and Essex’s soft towel wrapped around her lean body.

"You sick fuck," Essex hissed. The fury ripped through her, white hot. She barely remembered crossing the room, barely felt the sting of hot coffee splashing over her hand as she hurled the tray of breakfast straight at Andrew's chest.

Andrew had stammered out something, trying to backtrack, to gaslight her, as if there wasn't a naked woman right behind her, scrambling to cover herself with the towel. "Babe, it's not what it looks like—"

"Shut the fuck up!" Essex screamed. Her voice had been raw, brutal. She'd snapped. Chasing him around the house like a goddamn lunatic, plates smashing, her anger tearing through every fucking inch of her. The woman had tried to sneak out - god, the nerve of her. Essex had grabbed her by the hair and dragged her sorry ass out the front door, naked as the day she was born. She didn't give a shit who saw.

She caught her reflection in the mirrored walls of the nightclub now, her eyes hard, lips pulled tight in a sneer. No wonder Liam had told her not to come tonight. She'd debated it herself. Staying away would've been smarter - less messy. She wasn't sure what the fuck she was doing here anyway.

But she was here now, and there was no turning back.

She caught the eye of the bouncer guarding the entrance to the VIP section. The guy looked her up and down like she was another drunk chick trying to sneak her way in. Her lips twitched.

"I'm with Liam Keller," she said, her voice biting and sharp, daring him to challenge her. The bouncer's demeanor changed immediately, stepping aside with a nod.

As Essex walked past, she forced herself to think about anything other than that night. But it didn't work. She could still feel the rage simmering under her skin. Still taste the satisfaction of that door slamming shut behind the naked woman she'd thrown out like yesterday's trash.

She shook off the memory as she entered the dimly lit VIP lounge. Screw Andrew. Screw everything that had led her here. Tonight was for Liam. Maybe not the smartest choice, but fuck it. She wasn't here to make good decisions anymore.

Essex squared her shoulders as she entered the VIP section, the lights softer here but still pulsing with that nightclub energy that made everything feel charged. She spotted Liam near the back, surrounded by a cluster of people, his face bright with that easy, carefree grin he always wore. He looked good — better than good, actually, and for a second, she wondered why she'd even considered skipping this night.

She strutted over, her heels clicking on the floor, and as soon as Liam spotted her, his face lit up even more.

"Look who finally decided to show up," he said, opening his arms wide.

Essex smirked and rolled her eyes as she closed the distance between them. "Couldn't miss the chance to see you freak out about turning ancient," she teased, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "How's it feel, old man?"

"Ancient? I'm in my prime, baby." Liam laughed, his arm sliding around her waist for a half-second before he released her. "Thanks for coming, Essex. Thought you might ghost."

She shrugged, her eyes scanning the crowd around him. "I thought about it."

He smirked, but before he could respond, a familiar face caught her attention. Her old friends—people she'd left behind when she'd cut Andrew out of her life. They saw her too, a moment of surprise flashing across their faces before warm smiles replaced it.

"Essex! Oh my god, is that you?" one of them squealed, rushing toward her. It was Zara—God, she hadn't seen her in ages. They'd been close once, but after things went to shit with Andrew, Essex had disappeared without a word.

"Hey, Zara," Essex said, forcing a grin as she hugged her. The others followed, all chattering and throwing arms around her like nothing had changed.

"You've been a ghost!" Zara accused, half-laughing, half-pouting. "We missed you. You just...vanished."

Essex gave a noncommittal shrug, her lips twitching into a forced smile. "Yeah, well...life's a bitch." She gave them a pointed look. "You know how it goes."

They nodded, sympathy in their eyes, but the small talk buzzed on, and Essex let herself fall into it for a few moments. It was easier to pretend, to act like everything was fine, than to face the mess of emotions brewing beneath her skin.

But then, from the corner of her eye, she saw him—Andrew. That familiar swagger in his step, that smarmy fucking grin on his face as he approached. He opened his arms wide as if expecting a hug, his eyes gleaming like he still had some kind of hold on her. Like she would just fall back into him, forget everything that had happened.

"Essex," he said, all too cheerfully, stepping closer. "You look—"

She didn't even let him finish. Without missing a beat, Essex brushed right past him, her shoulder deliberately bumping into his chest as she made a beeline for the bar. She heard his footsteps falter behind her, could feel his confusion lingering in the air, but she didn't care. Fuck him. He wasn't worth the breath it would take to acknowledge him.

The bartender gave her a knowing look as she leaned against the counter. "Vodka. Double," she snapped. She needed to drown everything in her head—the memories, the regret, the anger. She couldn't do this sober. Not with him here, not with everything inside her screaming to explode again.

The glass appeared in front of her, and she didn't waste a second before throwing back the first shot, the burn sliding down her throat like an old, familiar friend. It wasn't enough, though. She needed more.

Another drink appeared, and this time she sipped slower, letting the alcohol seep into her bloodstream, trying to take the edge off. She could feel her old friends watching her from a distance, whispering among themselves, probably trying to figure out what the hell had happened between her and Andrew. She could feel Andrew, too, lurking nearby like some fucking vulture, just waiting for his chance to pounce.

She didn't give a shit. She was here for Liam, for a night of drowning out everything in her mind, not to play nice with her ex.

She downed the second drink, ignoring the voice in the back of her head telling her she had work tomorrow. She didn't give a fuck about that either.

Essex could feel the vodka hitting her bloodstream, dulling her edges, and pulling her deeper into the swirling madness of the nightclub. After downing two more drinks, she found herself pulled onto the dance floor, bodies grinding, the music pounding too loud to think straight. She wasn't even sure how it had happened - one second she was at the bar, the next she was pressed up against Liam's chest, his hands roaming a little too freely down her back, tugging her closer than she wanted to be.

Her arms were loose around his neck, and her body moved on autopilot. But her mind...her mind was fucking screaming. The longer she stayed here, the more the haze in her brain cleared, the more she saw just how screwed up this entire scene really was.

Zara, with that plastic smile plastered across her face, had waved her over earlier, all bubbly and fake as fuck. But Essex had caught the way Zara leaned into another friend's ear when she thought Essex wasn't looking, whispering something that had them both giggling like fucking teenagers. Something about how Essex had "disappeared" because she couldn't handle Andrew's wandering dick.

Essex clenched her teeth as she pushed harder against Liam, using the rhythm of the music to drown out her fury. Zara wasn't worth it. Not tonight.

But it got worse. Every time she glanced over at Andrew, there he was, laughing with some girl who was giggling way too fucking much at whatever dumb shit he was saying. His hand was on her thigh now, edging higher, and Essex felt a surge of bile rise in her throat. She had once been that girl. She had once been the one laughing at his shitty jokes, thinking she was special. She was sick of it, sick of all of them.

Liam's hands slid lower, brushing the curve of her ass, and she shoved him back instinctively, just enough to send the message.

He gave her a cocky grin. "What's the matter, babe? Thought you liked a bit of fun." His fingers brushed the waistband of her skirt again, trying to reel her back in.

She narrowed her eyes, her voice sharp. "Keep your hands where they fucking belong, Liam."

He laughed, but his hands didn't move for a second. "Relax, Essex. You're just wound up. Come on...we can pick up where we left off." He leaned in close, his breath hot against her neck. "You know you missed me."

Essex shoved him harder this time, breaking free of his grasp. "I didn't miss shit," she snapped. "Keep dreaming, though."

She turned away from him, her eyes scanning the crowd. She felt trapped - by the sweat, the bodies, the bullshit games everyone was playing. It was like she'd fallen back into a cesspool of all the reasons she'd walked away. Zara, gossiping behind her back. Andrew, still a snake, flirting with anything that had legs. And Liam, always thinking he could fuck his way into her life like nothing had changed.

The realization slammed into her like a punch to the gut - this was why she'd cut all these people off. This was why she'd distanced herself. They were toxic, selfish, and nothing had changed. If anything, they were worse now.

She needed out. Fast.

Essex made a beeline for the edge of the dance floor, weaving through the grinding bodies and flashing lights, barely muttering apologies when she bumped into someone. She needed air. Space. Fuck, she needed a fucking cigarette or a stiff drink - or both.

As she reached the exit to the VIP section, she heard Andrew's voice behind her. "Essex, wait—"

She didn't wait. She didn't even slow down. She didn't have the energy for his bullshit tonight, not when everything inside her was screaming for an escape.

But Andrew, stubborn as ever, caught up with her. "Hey, I'm talking to you," he said, grabbing her arm, a sliver of anger in his voice now. "What the hell's going on? You've been weird all night."

Essex yanked her arm free, spinning to face him. Her blood was boiling, and she was done holding back. "What's going on?" she spat. "Are you fucking serious? Look around, Andrew. You're still the same goddamn asshole you were when I left. Flirting with anything that moves. Acting like you're the king of this fucked-up little group."

Andrew's smirk faded, his brow furrowing. "Come on, don't be like that. You know how it is. It's just-"

"No, Andrew. I know exactly how it is,"

Essex cut him off. "That's the problem. I fucking know you. I know all of you. And I'm not playing this game again." She took a step back, her eyes blazing with anger. "So fuck you. Fuck Liam. Fuck Zara. I'm done."

Andrew opened his mouth to say something, but Essex didn't care. She turned on her heel and stormed toward the bar again. She needed to get drunk. Like, really fucking drunk. More than she already was. Because if she stayed sober, she knew she'd end up making some fucked-up decisions - decisions she might not be able to take back.

And right now? She didn't give a single fuck.

And she drank for that. She drank for not giving a single fuck. She drank so much that her throat was still burning even when she went outside the ridiculously priced nightclub. The cold London air did nothing to sober Essex up. She sat on the grimy pavement, legs sprawled out in front of her, a bottle in hand, laughing bitterly at the mess of her life. Her throat burned from all the vodka, and tears stung her eyes as memories surged—Andrew, that cheating prick, Liam, the disloyal bastard. All of it hit her like a punch to the gut, and the absurdity of it all made her laugh again, wild and broken.

Her laughter abruptly stopped when she heard a rich, familiar voice cut through the night.

"If it isn't Essex from London," Richard Madden drawled, his voice teasing but holding that touch of curiosity she remembered all too well.

Essex blinked and looked up, and there he was, standing over her with that cocky grin on his stupidly handsome face. She smirked through the haze of her drunkenness. "If it isn't Richard Madden from the ER," she shot back, her words slurring just a little.

Richard let out a low laugh, his eyes running over her with that irritating charm that always seemed to disarm people. His brows furrowed as he noticed her smudged makeup, her red, swollen upper lip like she'd been biting it raw to stop herself from crying. She didn't say anything about it. Why the hell should she? She didn't owe him an explanation.

"What's this, then?" Richard tilted his head, his smile fading as concern crept into his eyes. "Are you following me around, Essex?"

Essex barked a laugh, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it. "That's the cops' job," she fired back, waving her bottle lazily in the air. "I believe you still haven't given them a statement."

Richard grinned wider, stepping closer. "Or maybe you're just a fangirl," he teased, his voice dropping lower as he looked at her, eyes gleaming with amusement. "You can admit it. Don't be ashamed."

Essex snorted, rolling her eyes. "Oh, please," she groaned, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Sign my tit! Have my babies!" She made a dramatic gesture of grabbing her chest, shoving it forward with a drunken grin. "Is that enough for you to leave me alone?"

Richard's laughter was deep and real this time, his shoulders shaking. He crouched down in front of her, his face inches away, eyes glinting with mischief. "You're absolutely mental," he said, shaking his head. But his gaze lingered on her lips, noticing how red they were. Essex could feel his eyes on her like a heatwave, and despite the night's cold air, her skin tingled.

"Don't flatter yourself," she shot back, but her voice wavered slightly. She swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of how close he was. His presence was overwhelming, the scent of his cologne filling her senses, mixing with the alcohol already buzzing through her veins.

Richard's eyes flicked down to her lips again, and she bit her swollen lip harder, trying to control herself. It was like he could see right through her, through the bravado and the sarcasm, and that pissed her off, made her want to push him away and pull him closer all at the same time.

"Sign your tit, huh?" Richard said, smirking as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek. "Don't tempt me, love."

Essex scoffed, trying to laugh it off, but her heart hammered in her chest, her body betraying her. She shoved him back lightly, forcing some distance between them, trying to regain her composure. "Don't get any ideas," she said, her voice steadier this time. "You're not that special."

But the heat between them was undeniable, and as she stared into his eyes, she could feel the pull. Richard wasn't moving away either, his gaze fixed on hers, and for a split second, everything else fell away—the shitty night, the memories of Andrew, Liam, all the bullshit.

It was just him. And her. And the charged air between them.

"Come on, Essex," Richard murmured, his voice low and teasing, but with an edge of something darker, something real. "You've had a rough night. Maybe what you need is a distraction."

Essex arched a brow, her lips quirking up into a smirk. "And you think you're that distraction, do you?"

Richard's eyes sparkled with a challenge, his lips curling into a confident grin. "I'm a damn good one."

Essex laughed at that, loud and genuine, pushing him back again with a bit more force this time. "You wish, Madden," she said, her voice a little steadier now, though her heart was still racing. She stood up on wobbly legs, brushing herself off, and gave him a pointed look. "Not tonight."

Richard stood up beside her, watching her carefully, but there was no disappointment in his eyes—just that same amusement, like he was enjoying the game they were playing. "Suit yourself," he said with a shrug, though his grin told her this wasn't the end of it. Not by a long shot.

As Essex turned to walk away, she could still feel his eyes on her, burning into her back. The night wasn't over yet, and something told her that this encounter with Richard wasn't either.

But right now, all she needed was to put one foot in front of the other and get the hell out of here before she did something stupid. Something she couldn't take back.

Not tonight.

Essex staggered back into the club, the loud thrum of the music immediately hitting her like a wall. She should've called a cab, gone home, curled up in bed, and tried to get at least a few hours of sleep before her morning shift. But the idea of facing her empty apartment right now felt worse than staying in this chaotic mess of a night.

She wobbled up to the bar and dropped the half-empty bottle of vodka onto the counter with a clink. The bartender—an attractive guy with an easy smile—raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm returning this," she said, voice slightly slurred. "You know, like in Lidl or Aldi with the beer bottles? Do I get a discount?"

The bartender chuckled, shaking his head. "I wasn't supposed to give you that bottle in the first place," he said, his tone playful.

"Well, you did," Essex said, smiling back at him. "So, now I want my refund."

He leaned in a little, still grinning. "I can't give you a refund, but how about another drink on the house?"

Essex laughed, her mood lifting just slightly. "Fine," she said, shrugging. "But make it strong."

The bartender winked and slid a cocktail her way, something fruity with a lot of alcohol. She grabbed the glass and took a long sip, savoring the burn as it went down.

"You come here often?" the bartender asked, his tone flirty now.

"Only when I'm not busy saving lives," Essex replied, deadpan. She didn't have the energy for anything more tonight, not even banter.

Still, the drink did its job. Essex slid off the barstool, tossing a quick "Thanks" over her shoulder, and made her way back to the dancefloor.

The pulsing lights and the beat of the music felt like a reprieve from her thoughts. The drink in her hand, she let herself melt into the crowd, the bodies pressing in on all sides, the bass thudding through her chest. Dancing seemed easier than thinking, easier than feeling. She closed her eyes and let the rhythm take over, losing herself in the noise, in the haze of alcohol and sweat and bodies moving around her.

She didn't care that she had work tomorrow. She didn't care about the shitty night she'd had or the hangover she'd regret in the morning. Right now, all that mattered was the music, the heat, and the oblivion she was chasing one drink at a time.

Essex's head was swimming, but the club was pulling her deeper into its wild, intoxicating embrace. The guy she had been dancing with - some tall, well-dressed bloke with a sharp jawline and a grin that promised trouble - had leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, "Come with me."

She didn't hesitate, not in the state she was in. One drink had turned into five, and her judgment was more than a little clouded. She let him guide her through the crowd, their bodies brushing as they moved, and she found herself stumbling into a VIP lounge she hadn't noticed earlier. This place was far more upscale than the area Liam had rented for his birthday. Velvet ropes, leather seats, a few private booths tucked into the back. It screamed luxury. And money. A lot of it.

Essex leaned in closer to the guy, smirking. "So, what do you do again?" she asked, her voice a little playful, a little slurred.

He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that vibrated through her bones. "I'm a director," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"A director, huh?" Essex repeated, half mocking, half intrigued. "Of what? Porn?"

He chuckled again, clearly enjoying her cheekiness. "Nah, love. Movies. But who knows, maybe one day."

Essex rolled her eyes, though she smiled back at him. He led her to a booth in the far back, the plush seats sinking under them as they sat down.

<- Chapter 2 Chapter 4->

[mcsstydia]

Worry- David Budd

request:

prompt: you get into an explosion and david, your bodyguard/boyfriend isn’t allowed to see you

pairing: david x fem!reader 

warnings: mentions of injury, guns and an explosion, also a lot of angst but fluffy ending! 

words: 1.6k

A/N: I love Richard Madden. Not yet proof read so expect some typos <3

Masterlist is in bio! 

Anxious. All David felt, and all David was, was anxious. From the moment he had woken up, he was anxious. Anxious about your whereabouts, anxious about your well-being. Anxious about not being with you. 

He didn’t remember much. The last thing he recalled doing was throwing his body over yours, trying to get you to safety and away from the gun shots ringing through your ears. But there had been an explosion, and David hadn’t seen that coming. 

  And as soon as he woke up, he freed himself from anything the doctors put on him, and made his way to wherever hehoped you would be. And so, he started running. Running down endless corridors and countless hallways, all in search of you. 

Sure, he was your bodyguard and it was his duty to keep you safe. But, what nobody else knew, was that he was your lover. Well, more than that, to be honest. You loved him. You hadn’t told him yet, but you loved him, oh, so much. And he loved you just as much.

  Otherwise he wouldn’t be running as fast as he could, without even ebing able to think straight and with every muscle and every bone in his body hurting like hell. He ran and he ran, and people tried to stop him, tried to slow him down and take care of him. But all he wanted to do was be with you. All he wanted to know was whether you were okay. All he wanted to do was kiss you, and never let you go again.

Failed. He had failed you, he thought, as he was running down the slippery hallways as fast as his injured legs would carry him. When he finally reached the floor where he knew they put the influencial people, he came to a screeching halt at the front desk. Utterly out of breath, lungs and overall, his whole body, aching from the effort of sprinting along numerous corridors, he asked the nurse. 

  “Y/N Y/L/N,”, he brought out. “Where is she?”, he asked, panic and determination equally seen in his eyes. “Sir, I can’t give you this information. How do you even know-”, she tried to finish her question, but David was quicker. He rolled his eyes and the nurse saw the pain in his eyes as he spoke. 

“Please,”, he pleaded, tears glistening in his eyes. “Please I just have to know if she’s okay. I’m her bodyguard. PS David Budd. I was with her when the explosion happened.”, he explained, the pleading, yet strong tone never leaving his voice.

  And maybe it was the nurse pitying him, or maybe she saw how much he cared for her, but she, finally, gave him the answers he so much desired. “She’s still asleep and the doctors don’t know why,”, she began, sadness filling her eyes as she saw David’s reaction. His shoulders slumbed a little and the edges of his lips began to quiver. He was more than happy to hear she was’t dead. But this? This wasn’t much better. He worried so much about her. 

“When can I see her?”, he asked, now much quieter than he had been before, thousands of thoughts flying around in his head, making it hard to concentrat to speak up. “I’m afraid you can’t, sir,”, the nurse spoke up. David directed his gaze towards her again. “Family only,”, she added, a sad smile playing on her lips. 

  “Where is she?”, David repeated his question, hoping for a different outcome. The nurse looked down at her papers and sighed. “Room 458.”, she muttered lowly. “Thank you so much.”, David replied with grattitude before rushing away, down yet another horribly long hallway, still in search of you. 

When he finally reached your room, he saw two bodyguards guarding your door. He knew this meant trouble. “Name?”, one of them asked him. “PS David Budd, I’m Ms. Y/L/N’s bodyguard.” he stated, his nerves ripping on his fingers, trying to get to you. 

  The guards exchanged a quick look, then the other said: “Sorry, you can’t get in.” David was filled with so much dread and so much anxiety he thought he would explode. He was too impatient to put up with this right now. “Yeah, yeah I know only family but I’m her boy-”, David stopped himself from telling them the truth. “Bodyguard. I’m her bodyguard. Please let me in, I have to know she’s okay.”, David pleaded. Again. He hated pleading. 

But for her, he would do anything. And he was prepared to do so. “Sorry, man. Can’t.”, the first guard replied again. Anger was building up inside of David and he was ready to fight them both if he had to. But he knew he physically couldn’t regarding his state. 

  “Guys, c’mon, please-”, he tried again, but the second guard stepped forward and placed a calm hand on David’s chest. “Sargeant, I’ll have to call the hospital security if you don’t back off. Stay calm and you can stay here, outside her room. Otherwise you will gladly be brought back to your room.”, he threatened. 

Anger still in his eyes, David bit his lip and huffed before turning around and sitting down on a chair opposite of Y/N’s room. Hours passed and it felt like years. He was devastated. He couldn’t live with the uncertainty much longer. He had to see her. Hold her. Kiss her. Protect her. 

  Head buried deep in his hands, he sat there. Not even considering closing his eyes for a mere second, no matter how exhausted and both physically and mentally tired he was. He couldn’t sleeep. Not now. Not when he didn’t know whether she was okay.

After endless hours, something finally happened. A doctor and a nurse came hurrying down the hallway, making David stand up in an instant. They walked past him, straight into your room. David tried to follow them, but was yet again held back at your door. He tried to listen to what they were discussing, when he finally, finally, heard your voice. 

  A laugh escaped his mouth, not believing his own ears. “Where is PS Budd?”, you asked, trying to sound professional, but David could hear your voice was about to break. Once you had woken up, you had pushed a botton next to your bed, alarming the nurse. But all you really cared about was where David was. Why wasn’t he with you? Was he hurt? Was he de- No! He couldn’t be, he just couldn’t.

Upon hearing your question, David stormed past the guards into your room, and as soon as he saw your bruised face, tears of relief welled up in his eyes. Once you spotted him, you let out a laugh of relief as well, he was there, he wasn’t severly injured and he was alive.

  But your moment of reunion was short-lived as the guards grabbed David’s arms and wanted to pull him out of the room again. “No!”, you almost yelled, sitting up in your bed although it hurt to move. “Let him in!”, you demanded and the guard let him go. 

“We’ll come again later.”, the doctor stated and he and the nurse left the room as well. David hurried to your side before the door was closed, siiting down on your bed and gently but firmly pulling your body into his. 

  At this point, the tears he so hard tried to hide ran down his cheeks. He caressed your back as he spoke. “They wouldn’t let me in. I wanted to be with you, Y/N. Believe me,”, he whispered, holding your face in his hands now, looking into your eyes with so much love and care. 

“I know, I know,”, you whispered, barely audible. He kissed your head repeatedly, then your forehead, all while still talking. “They said only family could get in and nobody even knows I’m your boyfriend so I couldn’t do anything and then they only said you wouldn’t wake up and I’m so sorry for not protecting you, Y/N. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you, I-”, David rambled on, but you cut him off.

  “Love, love,”, you whispered, trying to get his attention while he was full on sobbing, but you were crying just as much. “You protected me. You did so good, baby. And I’m so thankful for you. But most importantly, I’m just so fucking thankful you’re okay and-”, you hesitated, still holding his gaze, staring into his ocean blue eyes. 

“Let’s tell everyone.”, you decided, catching David off guard. “Let’s tell everyone we’re dating, I don’t care. All I know is that I never want to be without you so we might as well tell it everyone else, as well,”, you grinned shyly, not knowing how he would react. 

  He smiled in response, kissing your head again and again and again, then locking your gazes again. “I love you,”, he stated, still looking at you for your reaction. Your whole face lit up and a new load of tears filled your eyes. 

“Really?”, you asked, your voice hoarse and quiet. David chuckled, then kissed your forehead again. “Yeah, really,”, he replied, grinning at you. “I love you too,”, you confessed, earning a smile just as wide as yours in return. “So much,”, you breathed out before gently grabbing his neck and pulling him towards you.

  It was a kiss full of passion and so many different emotions that it was bound to not last long. You were both out of breath and chuckling as you broke apart, but reconnected your lips within the blink of an eye. 

The kisses were messy first, then in sync and it had never felt better to taste him as of this moment. He still tasted of blood and you could feel a few cuts and bruises along his cheeks, but you were so relieved that he was with you that nothing else in the world mattered in this moment. 

[stateofloveandnegan]

Broken Ankle I - Richard Madden

It’s been a while, once again. I'm not super happy with this one, but I didn’t want to make it too long. so there’s gonna be a part two! I hope y’all like it anyways :))

Requested by: no one

Part one / Part two / Part three

“Dad, come up here, it’s beautiful!” I say with an excited smile. We’re somewhere in a beautiful village in Scotland. The view from where I’m standing is incredible. I chuckle as my dad struggles a bit to come up to me, but smile at him as he reaches me. “Look.”

My dad looks at the view and smiles brightly. This trip we’re on means a lot to me. My dad and I always wanted to make a trip through Scotland on his motorbike, and after years of talking about it, we’re finally doing it now.

“It’s beautiful, indeed.” My dad smiles at me. A short while later, we’re headed downstairs, and soon the happy and delightful atmosphere changes into one that’s the exact opposite.

I let out a loud scream as I fall down, a loud crack coming from my ankle. “(Y/N)!” my dad yells and rushes to my side, “Shit, where does it hurt?”

My finger points at my ankle as I bite down on my lower lip, “I think I broke my ankle…”

Not much later, I’m in the back of an ambulance, a little bit out of this world because of the medication they’ve given me. My dad is on his bike behind the ambulance as we’re on our way to the nearest hospital. It’s only a ten-minute drive and soon the paramedics are wheeling me into the A&E. They tell the doctors and nurses what happened and send me a smile before getting back to the ambulance.

“So, (Y/N), I heard you tumbled down a set of stairs.” One of the doctors says in a thick accent. I smile a little and nod, feeling stupid for making a fall like that. “It seems to be a pretty nasty break, but we’re gonna have to make some x-rays to be sure, yeah?”

I nod and let the doctor know I understand what’s going to happen. Just before one of the nurses takes me away for the x-ray, my dad comes in and I tell him which cubicle is mine so he can wait there.

After a long wait for the outcome of the scans and x-rays, the doctors tell me I don’t need surgery, but they need to cast it and run another test before I can go. I sigh in relief at the news and my dad squeezes my hand as the doctor leaves.

“I’m gonna go get some food at the restaurant, can I take anything with me for you?” My dad asks softly. I shake my head lightly, feeling quite sick from the medication and the pain. “Alright, I’ll take some lemonade with me, though. Is that okay?”

I smile, “Yeah, dad. I’d like some lemonade.” He smiles and nods before standing up and leaving the cubicle.

After about fifteen minutes, I start feeling nauseous, but there’s no bucket or anything in sight. I start calling for my dad, hoping he’s already near, but there’s no response. I then start calling for nurses and doctors, but they, too, don’t respond to me. I start growing a bit panicky, not wanting to throw up in the bed.

Just as I’m about to give up on calling for help, someone slowly and carefully opens the curtain to my cubicle, “Can I help with anything?” his voice speaks hesitantly. He looks so familiar, but at this moment that’s really the last thing on my mind.

“Something. I need something, feeling really sick…” I speak in between breaths as the nausea grows worse. The guy immediately gets what I’m saying and starts opening some cupboards and soon finds some sort of bucket, handing it quickly to me.

I let out a deep breath, feeling the nausea die down, but very thankful for the man’s help. “Thank you so much. I really thought I was gonna need it, but who knows, maybe I’ll need it later.”

The man chuckles, “You’re welcome, really.” he looks at me and his eyes soon wander down to my leg, which is stuck in some weird splint. “What happened? If I may ask.”

“I fell down a set of stairs and broke my ankle.” I say, my cheeks a little red. The man winces with a small smile on his face, “Ouch… I’m sorry to hear that. Does it hurt a lot?”

I shrug lightly, “Not right now, but it comes and goes.” I look at the trolley near my bed and reach for the cup of water, but am unable to get it. I look back at the guy and smile sheepishly, “Would you mind?”

He chuckles and hands me the cup, “Thank you.” I say and drink some of the water. It’s quiet for a moment, but the guy doesn’t leave. “Are you from around here?” he suddenly asks. I shake my head and smile, “No, I’m from Ireland.”

“I thought so, whereabouts do you live?”

“In Mullingar.”

“Oh nice, I’ve been there a couple times. Are you here on your own?”

I smile and shake my head, “No, I’m here with my dad. We’re on a bike trip, but I’m afraid that has now come to an end…” Right at that moment, my dad returns with a small bag of food and a bottle of lemonade. “(Y/N)- oh, hello there.”

My dad smiles, a little confused as to why a man he doesn’t know is sitting in the chair he previously occupied. The guy stands up and makes place for my dad, “Hello. Your daughter was in need of some help, I heard her and figured I could help. Enjoy the food, sir.” The guy makes way to leave the cubicle, I speak up, wanting to say his name, but only then I realise I don’t know his name, yet. He chuckles, “It’s Richard.”

I blush lightly, “Thank you for helping me, Richard.” Richard smiles, “Of course, (Y/N). See you around.” And with that, he’s gone, leaving me in a weird state of mind, but it’s definitely a positive state of mind.

When I turn to look at my dad, he has a smirk on his face. “What?” I say with a laugh, my cheeks still slightly red. “Nothing… he was just a very handsome man, hm?”

“Oh, dad! Stop it!” I laugh, but damn, he’s right about that. After a silence, in which I keep trying to think of why Richard looked so familiar, it suddenly comes to me.

“Dad,” I begin, and he looks at me, showing he’s listening, “Do you remember the Stark family members in Game of Thrones?”

He looks a little confused, but nods nonetheless, “I think I remember them all, yes. Why?”

“Richard… he played Robb. He looked so familiar earlier, but I just didn’t know why. Now I do, it must be him.”

I notice my dad thinking and his eyes widen before he nods, “You’re absolutely right! I didn’t know he looked familiar until now. Wow, that’s pretty cool, isn’t it?” He laughs softly and continues eating.

My dad can be so simple about those things, it humors me, really. I mean, I’m glad he isn’t secretly freaking out like I am.

A while later, my leg is finally casted. It feels pretty sore, so they gave me some prescriptions for medication. Now, they’re helping me get a hand on how to walk with crutches. It’s not super hard, but it’s nice to get some tips.

As I’m trying out the crutches in the hallway, Richard comes by again and smiles, really handsomely, at me. “You already look much livelier than before. And it seems like you’re a natural at those crutches, aye?”

I blush and chuckle, “I’m not too bad, no, luckily.” I look at my dad, who just smirks and mouths, ‘I’m gonna get something to drink’.

Richard chuckles quietly and looks at the ground for a moment, before looking back up at me, “You guys headed home, soon?” he asks softly as I struggle a little to sit down on a chair in the hallway. “Yeah, well… my dad’s gonna get going soon. He has to go on his bike, otherwise it’ll be stuck here and he doesn’t wanna leave it here. I’m gonna go with a taxi, but it can take a while before it arrives.”

Richard seems to be thinking for a moment before he speaks up, “Where are you guys staying?”

“Uhm, I think it was Ferguslie. It’s a small bed and breakfast.” I say. My dad returns with something to drink and Richard looks at him. “Hi, sir. Let me introduce myself properly before anything else. I’m Richard.”

Richard holds out his hand and my dad, a little confused, shakes it. “John.”

“I was thinking… you can’t take (Y/N) back on your bike, because of her foot. And it’ll take really long before the taxi is here, besides that taxis are quite expensive here. I need to go to Elderslie myself, my mum lives there and it’s where I’m staying as well. As you may know, Elderslie is pretty close to Ferguslie. I can take (Y/N) with me and drop her off at the b&b you’re staying in?”

My cheeks grow red and my eyes go slightly wide at his proposal. Feeling my heart flutter, I clumsily stand up again and walk over to them. “Are you sure, Richard? I don’t want to be a bother…”

“You won’t be a bother, I promise. My mum won’t mind, either.” He assures me and my dad. I look over at my dad and he looks at me, debating for a moment, but soon agreeing. “That actually sounds much better than a taxi. Alright, yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

I smile, stupidly excited for the ride. My dad and Richard arrange some things before my dad leaves, leaving me alone with Richard. “Are you sure?” I ask softly one more time. Richard laughs softly and nods, beckoning me to follow him. “Of course I am, otherwise I wouldn’t have proposed it.”

I follow Richard through the hallway, and soon we reach a woman standing at the reception, handling some stuff. “We’ll be having a guest on our drive home, mum.” Richard tells the woman and I smile kindly, “Hello ma’am, I’m (Y/N).” the woman smiles and shakes my hand as Richard explains why I’ll be joining them.

Soon, we’re all in the car together. Richard’s mum got in the back so I could sit in the front, having more space for my leg. It’s a little quiet at first and I can feel Richard looking over at me every now and then, me obviously doing the same until we both catch each other one time. My cheeks grow red and I swear I can see the same happening to Richard, but I quickly look back out front.

Richard looks into the rearview mirror to see his mum with her headphones on and softly starts talking. “Was your day a bit okay, even though you fell?”

I smile and nod, “Yeah, it was really nice, actually. My dad and I had lunch at this really nice place. And we drove around a bit, visiting some nice villages. Scotland is absolutely beautiful, I really don’t want to leave, yet.” I sigh softly, knowing I’ll have to find a way to get back home, since we can’t continue our trip with my ankle broken.

Richard smiles sympathetically, “I wish I could do something for you.”

“No, it’s fine.” I smile back at him, “I’ll come back once my ankle is healed. Why were you and your mum in the hospital, if I may ask?”

Richard smiles as he looks in the rearview mirror, noticing his mum has fallen asleep. “My mum was feeling really dizzy earlier, it made her feel better if we’d go see a doctor, so I took her to the A&E just in case. You never know as they get older… seems she just had a really low blood pressure, so they gave her something for it.”

I nod and let out a soft sigh as I look outside, “I hope she’ll feel better soon.”

“Yeah, me too. But I’m sure she’ll be fine.” He says and focusses on the road for a moment. “Were you and your dad planning on staying much longer in Scotland?”

My eyes drift from the road back to the side of Richard’s face, “Yeah, we were gonna drive around for a couple more weeks and then head back”

“That’s a pretty long time. I’m sorry it had to end like this.” He says sadly.

Richard and I keep our conversation going until we’ve arrived at the Bed & Breakfast. We all get out and his mum falls into conversation with my dad, chatting away for a while. “Why don’t we all sit down at the balcony and have a drink?” my dad offers, and we all chime in.

My dad and Richard’s mum take a seat at one of the tables, but Richard and I walk over to the edge of the balcony and sit down. We gently clink our bottles against one another’s and enjoy the breeze of the evening.

“How old are you, (Y/N)?” Richard suddenly asks. I look up at him and can’t help myself as I stare at him for a moment. “Hm?” his voice breaks my gaze and I blush, looking at my lap. “I’m twenty-three.”

“Are you still in school?”

“Yeah, I am. I study journalism, but I took a break from it to go on this trip with my dad. What about you? Are you currently working on something, or aren’t you allowed to tell me that?” I ask and Richard’s eyes widen a little, a smile entering his face.

“You know who I am, then?” he chuckles, and I shrug a little, smiling. “You looked familiar when I first saw you, but I didn’t immediately know. It wasn’t until you left that I recognized you as Robb Stark. But it’s an overstatement to say I know who you are, I didn’t even know your actual name was Richard…” I smile sheepishly.

Richard tells me he is working on something, but isn’t allowed to say on what. We talk for a while longer, but when we’ve all finished our second drink, Richard and his mum decide it’s time to go home.

Just as they are about to get into the car, and I’m about to go back inside, Richard comes back up to me. “(Y/N), wait. Here..” he hands me a small piece of paper. “If you’d like to stay in contact, you can message me on this number.”

I feel my cheeks heat up and I take the piece of paper from him, my fingers brushing against his. He smiles sweetly down at me. “I hope you will…” he whispers softly before going back to the car and leaves.

I let out a deep sigh, today has been a long day. “Hey, dad. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Of course, darling. Tomorrow we’ll arrange some new plans. Get a good night’s rest, call me if you need anything, alright?”

I nod and give him a kiss on the top of his head before going inside, a little clumsily making my way to my room. Once I’m in bed, I grab my phone and put Richard’s number in my phone.

-

You:

Hi Richard, it’s (Y/N). I hope you got home safe and sound.

Sent 10:48pm

-

After sending the message, I put my phone away and turn the tv on. A little while later, my phone buzzes and a smile enters my face when I notice it’s Richard.

-

Richard:

Hey (Y/N)! I’m glad you texted me.

I got home safe and sound.

How is your foot feeling?

Sent 11:03pm

-

You:

My foot is feeling alright!

Tomorrow we’re gonna make plans on what’s going to happen now.

I really don’t wanna leave Scotland :(

Sent 11:04pm

-

Richard:

Maybe you can stay a little longer?

Sent 11:04pm

-

You:

I hope so, I would like to stay even here in this B&B if it’s possible.

But I’ll have to wait and see what my dad thinks.

Sent 11:04pm

-

Richard:

Ah yes, that’s true.

Well, I hope you’ll stay a little longer.

If you do, I can show you around a little bit, there’s actually some really nice places nearby.

Sent 11:05pm

-

I smile at the thought of spending more time with Richard. And just the fact that Richard is offering to spend his time with me, meaning that he wants to spend it with me, makes me blush once again.

I yawn softly and feel my eyes getting heavy. I turn the tv off before grabbing my phone again.

-

You:

That sounds like a really nice plan!

I’m going to sleep now, thank you for helping me at the hospital earlier, you’ve really made the rest of my day better.

Sent 11:06pm

-

Richard:

I’m happy to hear that.

I’m glad I did that, too. Otherwise I wouldn’t have met you.

Good night, (Y/N).

Sent 11:06pm

-

You:

Good night, Richard.

Sent 11:06pm

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

RPF Masterlist

Queen/BoRhap Boys

The Origins of Rogerina [x] Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader   Word Count: 4,563 [3 Parts] Rating: Mature

I’m In Love With My Car [x] Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader  Word Count: 1700 Rating: Teen 

Inspirations [x] Pairing: Roger Taylor x Original Character Word Count: 1563 Rating: Explicit

Frosty Love [x] Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader Word Count: 1442 Rating: Teen

Dear Diamond [x] Pairing: Roger Taylor/Brian May/Reader Word Count: 893 Rating: Teen

Mr Rockstar [x] Pairing: Brian May x Reader Word Count: 2349 Rating: Teen

Fat Bottomed Girls [x] Pairing: Brian May x Plus Size! Reader Word Count: 2665 Rating: Explicit

We Are A Family [x] Pairing: John Deacon x Reader Word Count: 5000 [4 Parts] Rating: Teen

Early Christmas Present [x] Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader Word Count: 1289 Rating: Gen

Tell Me You’re Pretty [x] Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader Word Count: 630 Rating: Gen

Due Date [x] Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader Word Count: 1968 Rating: Teen

Actors

Rave Review [x] Pairing: Richard Madden x Original Character Word Count: 2046 Rating: Explicit

New Man [x] Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader Word Count: 1500 Rating: Teen

Galway Girl [x] Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader Word Count: 2050 Rating: Explicit

Instagram Famous [x] Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader Word Count: 2050 Rating: Gen

Getting You Home [x] Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader Word Count: 3400 Rating: Explicit

Warm Welcome [x] Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader Word Count: 1300 Rating: Gen

Double Jeopardy [x] Pairing: Bradley Cooper x Reader  Word Count: 1550 Rating: Explicit

Amnesia [x] Pairing: Colin Jost x Scarlett Johansson  Word Count: 800 Rating: Teen 

Oh Baby [x] Pairing: Zendaya x Reader Word Count: 668 Rating: Teen

Not Just a Storyline [x] Pairing: Alycia Debham-Carey x Reader  Word Count: 650 Rating: Gen

Chris Evans

You’re The One [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 3200 Rating: Mature

Lessons In Love [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Original Character Word Count: 41,500 [30 Parts] Rating: Mature

Conflicted [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 24,000 [12 Parts] Rating: Explicit

Just A Fling, Yeah? [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 20,000+ [11 Parts] Rating: Explicit

More Than Just a Fling [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 1945 Rating: Teen

The Cutest Customer [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: Gen Word Count: 2062

I’ve  Missed You [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 2242 Rating: Explicit

A Tipsy Nurse and Her Patient [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 1000

Fine Dining [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Original Female Character Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2500

Never Have I Ever [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: General Word Count: 861

Happier [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 1200

Age Is Just A Number [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 3095

Oh Daddy [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 400 Rating: Gen

I’ve Missed You [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 2250 Rating: Explicit

A Wake-Up Call [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 925

Only If You Want Me To [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 3352

Sebastian Stan

I Got the Boy [x] Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Rating: General Word Count: 643

Such a Cute Couple [x] Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Rating: General Word Count: 2005

Are You Flirting With Me? [x] Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 1214

Any Fool Can Make a Baby? [x] Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Rating: 513 Word Count: Teen and Up

Is That the Only Reason? [x] Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Greek Reader Rating: Gen Word Count: 1782

Jesse Williams 

Let’s Play A Game [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 640 Rating: Teen

Baby Brain [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 900 Rating: Teen

A Gentleman Never Tells [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 1500 Rating: Teen

Spill Your Guts [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 950 Rating: Teen

Marry Me? [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 400 Rating: Teen

Nervous Babe? [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 1000 Rating: Gen

Newsworthy [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 1100 Rating: Teen

Teeny Tiny Crush [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 1500 Rating: Gen

Royals

Breakfast Then Bed [x] Pairing: Prince Harry x Reader Word Count: 800 Rating: Gen

[hip-young-beamslinger]

Stupid Ask List, feel free to answer these questions yourself

1. What’s one animal you wish you could have as a pet but can’t? Probably one of those huge Frisian horses? I can’t have them because I have no money and horses intimidate me.

2. Favorite thing to wear to sleep? When I’m cold I wear a long nightgown. I love long nightgowns

3. What song really gets you going? That is actually a song I came across on tumblr once: Mahishasura Mardini (Droplex Remix) - Shanti People https://open.spotify.com/track/3NWXBvMdXaoEvW8Tvw8qk3?si=XlTRbI01TPu1K11kiPRZbg

4. Where do you usually eat your meals? On the couch, in front of the tv

5. Favorite meal: breakfast, lunch, or dinner? Dinner!

6. Most embarrassing habit? I pick at scabs a lot. And I sniff my fingers.

7. Chocolate or fruity candy? Chocolate 1000%

8. Soft or hard tacos? Soft ones!

9. Worst way to break up a fight? Getting punched?

10. Best thing to say in an elevator of strangers? NOTHING.

11. What color/design are your bedsheets? Something IKEA. I believe it’s the purple one with a Baroque pattern.

12. Any hidden talents? Can sleep everywhere.

13. Favorite thing to drink out of (mug, glass, etc.)? Mugs for everything and I like to drink my tea out of small cups (like the Japanese type of cups)

14. Socks or bare feet around the house? Feetsies!

15. Favorite board game? Rummikub (I hate board games)

16. Do you sleep with the fan on or off? On, I am super bad at regulating my body temperature.

17. Heat on or keep it cold with lots of layers? Keep it cold, I get warm very easily.

18. Do you sing in the shower? Nope.

19. Favorite song to belt out at the top of your lungs when you’re alone? Love me Wrong by Allie X & Bad Romance by Lady Gaga

20. Last thing you cried about? I wrote a sad RP tag 

21. At what age did you first have alcohol? Sixteen, Fifteen? It was Baileys.

22. Relationship status? Single with cats

23. What’s the most amount of money you’ve spent on a single item of clothing? Nike Air Max shoes for 250 Dutch guilders. 

24. What do you typically wear to formal events? Fancy dress

25. Favorite memory? My trip to China and Tibet in 2013.

26. Gum or breath mints? None.

27. Favorite shoes? I love my Dr. Martens boots. They’re high boots with embroidery on the side.

28. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? My nose.

29. What is the natural state of your hair? Straight and uninteresting.

30. Have you ever had braces? I think in total for at least 10 years, yeah

31. Most dangerous thing you’ve ever done? Jumped from a boat into the sea

32. Most embarrassing thing your parents have caught you doing? Probably finding my collection of sex ads. I collected sex ads from the newspaper which were mostly texts like ‘my ____ are so big and your ___ is huge’

33. Last time you had an orgasm? A week ago? I don’t know, don’t keep up.

34. Celebrity crush(es)? Richard Madden

35. Windows or Mac? Mac!

36. How old were you when you learned to ride a bike? Six or seven.

37. Makeup or natural? Both.

38. What color do you wear the most? Yellow and black, but also blue.

39. Favorite season? Spring

40. Umbrella or rain coat? Umbrella

41. Have you ever fallen out of a tree? Nope

42. First car you ever owned? None.

43. What time do you usually go to bed? Midnight

44. Are you a competitive person? A little. 

45. Least favorite color? Bright fluorescent things

46. First pet you’ve ever owned? A bunch of fish

47. Sweet or salty? Salty

48. Favorite pasta dish? Chicken with pesto

49. Favorite kind of chips? Ringlings!

50. Talk about something you’re passionate about. I am deep into Fate hell recently, won’t recommend it. 0/10, won’t do ever again.

51. What are some of your hobbies? Drawing, embroidery, online roleplay, being a goddamn boring hermit

52. Caffeine? If so, what kind? Tea and sweet iced coffee (frappuchinos)

53. Favorite kind of pizza? The truffle pizza from New York Pizza. Also 4 cheeses.

54. Fast food or sit-down restaurant? Sit down 100%

55. Lots of acquaintances or a handful of close friends? Handful of friends

56. Something that ruins your appetite? Bugs.

57. Favorite labels about you? I don’t get this question. Define labels?

58. Are you a religious person? Oh no. Noooo.

59. Night out with a bunch of friends in public or night in with one friend having deep conversations? I’m too old to go out so deep conversations it is

60. What size shoe do you wear? European size 40

61. Favorite thing about yourself? I’m creative??

62. Have you ever told someone you loved them first? Nope. 

63. Have you ever had sex on the first date? I have had 2 dates in my entire life, come on. 

64. Heroes or villains? Villains

65. Favorite fruit? Banana and apple

66. Least favorite fruit? Not too wild about melon

67. Favorite vegetable? Spinach

68. Least favorite vegetable? Celery and cauliflower 

69. How many plates can you eat at a buffet? One well filled one

70. Favorite dessert? Ice

71. Do you play any sports? Not currently, no

72. Age you learned how to swim? The moment we got swimminglessons at school. I was 5 or 6

73. Tell a funny story. I was once in New York together with my friend. We were attending NYCC and who do we encounter? An old friend I haven’t seen in ages. Like this Dutch dude just being there after 8 years. That was funny.

74. What’s one interesting thing about your culture? Idek, really. 

75. What’s one annoying thing about your culture? Probably Black Pete

76. What job would you be terrible at? Anything with children. I don’t like kids. 

77. Would you rather watch a TV show or a movie? TV show

78. What’s your favorite compliment to give? Any compliment.

79. What’s your favorite compliment to receive? That my art is good.

80. Has your opinion changed on something recently? Yep.

81. Do you always order the same thing at a restaurant or order something different each time? I’m an adventurer

82. What’s something you’ve always wanted to try but haven’t yet? Going to the gym. I really need to do something about my stamina.

83. If you could learn to do anything right now, what would it be? Probably proper digital coloring

84. Favorite physical feature about yourself? I have an hourglass figure?

85. Least favorite physical feature about yourself? I have a big butt and there’s this extra lump on it that makes me an L on the top and an XL on the bottom. My nose.

86. What’s one amazing thing you did that nobody was around to see? I scuba dived

87. If you could change your height, would you? Nope

88. What’s something you would rate 10/10? My ability to eat large amounts of food in a short time.

89. Heels or flats? Flats!

90. What’s something you wish you had more knowledge about? Programming

91. Would you want to be famous? Never! :D

92. What’s something you would get arrested for? I jaywalked.

93. What’s your spirit animal? A sloth

94. What’s the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to you? That the previous owner of my apartment accepted my offer instead of the other two.

95. Are you the type to have an organized mess, or no mess at all? Organized mess.

96. Do you tend to make decisions based on the past, present, or future? Future

97. Are you a planner or a more spontaneous person? Planner

98. Thoughts on the oxford comma? It’s a comma and it has to do with English grammar and I’m Dutch.

99. What do you hope never changes? I hope my family will be alive for a long time.

100. How would you celebrate your 100th birthday? Alone in a nursing home

[chwesolai]

Dr. Madden

Pairing: Richard Madden x Wife!Reader

Request! Richard taking care of the reader after a surgery!

A/n: this is gonna get fluffy and cutesy really quick so

Warning: HEAVY fluff

—

��Mrs. Madden, we’ll now be putting you under the anesthesia now,” the doctor explains as you feel your eyes getting extremely heavy. Then completely darkness.

For what felt a few minutes was a few hours, you walk up to the bright white light you saw before closing your eyes and having a slight ringing in your ears. You couldn’t make out any of the figures in front of you just yet but you can sort of hear what they were saying.

“Mr. Madden, you’re welcome to come in now, the Mrs is awake.”

What the doctor didn’t really matter anymore because he was here, “R-Rich?”

“Hi, lovely.” Richard flashes his million dollar smile as he gets ahold of your hand, “how are you feeling?”

“Little disoriented but you’re here so I could honestly care less,” we both laugh as the doctor begins to explain how long I’ll need to recover for.

“So, Mrs. Madden, you’re actually all set to be discharged by the looks of your state. But we’ll need you to be out of work for the next 2 weeks just to ensure nothing is damaged in your knee, meaning we want to limit your mobility as much as possible. So Mr. Madden, if you can, help her get out of bed, avoid stairs if you can, limit her walking for the next 2 weeks because we can’t risk anything.”

“Of course, can do.” Richard tightens his grip on my hand, almost in a concerned way.

“Now, Mr. Madden if you can come with to get the discharge papers and Mrs. Madden we’re getting a wheelchair ready for you to be wheeled to your car.”

“Thank you,” You smile at your doctor and you look back at a concerned Richard, “it’s going to br alright love, I’m going home.”

He squeezes your hand one more time and kisses your forehead before following the doctors out. A nurse comes to your bedside and helps sit you up, “what a husband you got there,” she smiles at you as she helps you walk into the chair.

“I really lucked out with him,” I laugh to myself as the nurse wheels me to the front desk where I wait for Richard.

—

Papers were fully done and Richard wheels me to our car and carries me in and we were off home.

London was cloudy per usual, but still a pretty sight. With Richard playing David Bowie softly in the car, I feel my eyes beginning to get heavy again and my head lean against the window.

Next thing I knew we were home and I was being carried by my love, “Rich you dont need to do this,” I laugh as I hold onto his neck.

“My love, I want to do this. The doctor said to avoid having you walk and I have nothing against carrying you everywhere.” I laugh into his neck as he continues to be this lovey dovet Richard.

“Madden, when did you become so mushy?” I smile as we enter our home.

“I think I’ve been hanging around Taron too much.” We both laugh as Richard sets me down on the couch and sets my leg up, elevated on a pillow, “But if its for my lovely Y/n, I will do anything, so hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Chicken?”

“Yes please.” I nearly salivate at the sound of fried chicken.

“As you wish my love.” He kisses my cheek as he orders our food over the phone.

I grab the xbox controller as its the closest to me and put on netflix, “hmm, let’s watch my favorite show.” I mutter to myself.

—

“Ok chicken is ordered and I-” Richard’s voice stops mid-sentence as he realizes what I’m watching, “Babe, why are you watching Bodyguard? You already know the ending” Practically cringing at himself on screen.

“Its my favorite show,” you pout looking up at him, “plus its an excuse to look at you for an hour.”

He rolls his eyes, “you’re so lucky I love you.”

You look at him and smile and put your hands on both sides on his face, “Love youuuu.”

“Love you too.” He pouts.

You bring him closer and pull him into the sweetest kiss you’ve ever felt. Both your cheeks get hot and both of you giggle like children, “how is possible you still make me feel like a teenager when we’re already married?” Richard nuzzles his nose against yours.

“I’m known to have that effect,” you kiss his nose.

“I would tackle you with kisses but I can’t risk hurting you so I’m resisting.”

“What a gentleman,” You kiss his cheek and lean your head on his shoulder, “you’re not leaving any day soon right?”

“With you in recovery? I’m not moving an inch away from you.”

[drtymen]

obs: all female characters can be played as femme, as trans or as genderbent upon request. "modern verse” would mainly mean an au with no sci-fi or fantasy elements.

ARCHIE COMICS / RIVERDALE.

archie andrews / kj apa bertie cooper / michael provost cheryl blossom / kj apa fred andrews / c evans + hemsworth + pratt hermione granger / alfonso herrera hiram lodge / mark consuelos jughead jones / timothee chalamet kevin keller / mason dye reggie mantle / charles melton + ross butler veronica lodge / noah centineo + gavin leatherwood

FRIENDS.

chandler bing / joe keery + tom holland + richard madden joey tribbiani / noah centineo + matthew daddario monica geller / casey cott + jack falahee phoebe buffay / froy gutierrez + aaron tveit rachel green / michael provost + gus kenworthy ross geller / alex fitzalan + julian morris

GAME OF THRONES (+ modern verse / strong books influence).

arya stark / tom holland / soldier brandon stark / timothee chalamet / his dad’s store clerk cersei lannister / nikolaj coster-waldau / socialite daenerys targaryen / alexander ludwig + froy gutirerrez / heir eddard stark / chris hemsworth / small business owner joffrey baratheon / austin butler / trustfund baby khal drogo / jason momoa / mafia boss ramsay bolton / iwan rheon / sadistic robb stark / richard madden / dad’s store manager sansa stark / kj apa / dad’s store manager

MARVEL UNIVERSE (+ modern / mainly mcu based).

bruce banner / hugh dancy + cgi face / scientist bucky barnes / sebastian stan / hit-man clint barton / justin hartley / circus perfomer natasha romanoff / richard madden + joseph morgan / spy peter parker / tom holland + andrew garfield / photographer steve rogers / chris evans + armie hammer / war veteran thor odinson / chris hemsworth + charlie hunnan / heir tony stark / rdj + oscar isaac / ceo

STRANGER THINGS (+ modern verse).

billy hargrove / dacre montgomery nancy wheeler / timothee chalamet + nick robinson steve harrington / joe keery

SUPERNATURAL (+ modern verse / s1 based only).

dean winchester / dacre montgomery / mechanic sam winchester / lorenzo zurzolo / college student

TEEN WOLF (+ modern verse / s1-3 based only).

allison argent / gavin leatherwood jackson whittemore / dacre montgomery lydia martin / kj apa scott mccall / diego tinoco stiles stinlinski / tom holland

THE WALKING DEAD (+ modern verse).

carl grimes / nick robinson / hs student beth greene / taron egerton / nurse maggie greene / jake gyllenhal / farmer negan / jeffrey dean morgan / gym teacher rick grimes / andrew lincoln / detective shane walsh / jon bernthal / detective

UNTIL DAWN.

ashley brown / daniel sharman chris hartley / alberto rosende emily davis / harry shum jr jessica riley / austin butler joshua washington / avan jogia matt taylor / michael b jordan michael munroe / michael trevino samantha giddings / taron egerton

X-MEN EVOLUTION (+ modern / film influences).

bobby drake / brandon flynn / student  charles xavier / patrick wilson + james mcavoy / principal evan daniels / jordan calloway / student hank mccoy / richard madden / secretary jean grey / kj apa / student kitty pryde / tom holland / student kurt wagner / noah centineo / student logan howell / hugh jackman + taron egerton / pe teacher ororo munroe / jesse williams / co-principal rogue / gavin leatherwood / student  scott summers / alex fitzalan / student

[agent-ccarter]

jealous. richard madden (part 2)

part two of this, requested by @coffeebooksandfandom , @supermassiveblackhope  & @rexorangecouny  

pairing: Richard Madden x reader

warnings: swearing, alchohol abuse

prompts from @witterprompts (whose prompts i love, go check out their blog!)

“You’re my first choice. Always. Okay?” & “Don’t go behind my back. Whatever you have to say about me, say it to my face.”

You weren’t really sure where you were going. Your own apartment felt alien, only a technicality that made you feel slightly better about your constant living at Richard’s place without paying him rent; technically, you didn’t live there, you have your own flat. You wanted desperately to walk to the nearest pub, to drown your sorrows on bitter beer and liquor, though you knew that was a terrible idea; not only would you greatly regret it in the morning, but the paparazzi would have a field day seeing the girlfriend of Richard Madden wandering the streets of London crying before leaving a bar hours later, significantly more intoxicated than you were before. 

You have no family here and you couldn’t exactly ring Richard to pick you up, so instead settled on hailing a taxi to take you home, offering you freedom from the now pouring rain and the ability to conveniently stop at an off-license for a cheap bottle of vodka.

The apartment felt wrong; you’d grown so used to living at Richard’s, so your kitchen cupboards were empty besides a few packets of instant noodles and various jars of spices, and your wardrobe wasn’t much better. You couldn't help it; before you knew it, you were sat on the sofa, cuddling a large woven blanket as you nursed the bottle of cheap alcohol. 

The loud rain hit the windows, drowning out any outside noise, which is why, when you finally realised someone was knocking at your door, you couldn't be sure as to whether they’d been there for a minute or an hour. 

It wasn’t exactly difficult to figure out who it was; you barely had and friends besides from Richard, and they weren’t known for showing up at your door at 2am.

“Go away!” You slurred, turning on the kitchen light to see the large frame stood at the door to confirm your suspicion. You could see him slumped over, resting his forearm on the glass of the door.

“Please, Y/N,” he pleaded, trying to see you through the frosted glass, “Just let me in. I want to sort this, Y/N. We can fix this.”

The extremity of the situation was highlighted by the fact that he hadn’t just walked in; the locked door wasn’t stopping him as he’d had a key from 6 months into your relationship. He could walk in, but he knew far too well that he couldn’t overstep the boundary as it would only make matters worse. 

You leaned on the door frame, partly due to your intoxicated state and partly because you were so heartbroken, so fucked up you weren’t even sure you could stand.

“No we can’t, there isn’t anything to fix.” The alcohol meant your speech was becoming slowly slurred, and, when combined with the doorway separating the two of you, Richard had no chance of hearing you.

“Please let me in. I can’t hear you and I’m soaked.” 

You took a moment to consider leaving him out in the rain, letting him feel the bitter London winter for a little bit longer, but you weren’t that heartless. You switched the lights in the kitchen off before swaying over to the door, inserting the key and twisting it. He pushed the handle gratefully, but you couldn’t see the expression on his face as you quickly turned around.

You stood there in silence for a few minutes before you slowly slid to the floor, using the drawers as a back rest; he joined you, not sitting close enough to make you uncomfortable, but near enough that he could reach the bottle of alcohol when you offered it to him. He took a swig, allowing the harsh liquid to burn his throat before muttering a “Cheers” and placing it down onto the floor.

“You’re my first choice. Always. Okay?” The vodka meant your words were anything but clear, but Richard could mostly understand you, “But, I can’t do it. I know it’s your job. I know you work with gorgeous women, I know you kiss them, they’re your friends. I knew what I was getting into, I think. But, I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

Richard sighed, fiddling with the cap of the glass bottle between his fingers.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” You tried to smile, but it came across as more of a grimace.

“Can’t we at least try?” He asked, although he certainly knew what the answer was, he couldn’t expect you to carry on. You didn’t even need to answer.

“I know I’ve been a dick,” He said, trying to break the awkward silence in the room, “But, can I just ask you for a favour? Don’t go behind my back. I know you won’t, but, just, whatever you have to say about me, say it to my face. Ring me at 4am and scream at me for treating you badly, swear at me all you want. Just, don’t go around and try and ruin my career. Please.” He questioned what he had said as soon as the words left his lips.

“I won’t.” You replied, not sure whether to laugh or cry. You knew it was precautionary, because his job is his life and he’d probably just disappear if he didn’t have it; but, it definitely stung a little bit to hear him say that. 

You sat in silence for a little bit longer before the scot shifted slightly, sitting forward before getting up completely. He squatted in front of you, pushing your hair gently behind you slowly. He looked into your eyes one last time before pressing his lips to the top of your head, a gesture you welcomed gratefully.

“I love you.” You sighed, looking properly into his eyes for the first time since the argument.

“I love you too.” You whispered back. 

And, before you knew it, you were alone in the apartment, watching the love of your life leave for the last time.

****

....

Sorry, I never promised that it would have a happy ending..;)

Hope you enjoyed, requests are open!!

[thedarklightwithinus]

Looked After.

A/N; I haven’t written in awhile and i feel like I’m rusty, brb crying. MY ASK BOX IS OPEN AGAIN.

Summary; Surgery is never a fun ride. 

Pairing; Richard Madden x Reader

Requested By; emmaelizabeth2014

Y/N was dying. There was no other way to explain the pain she felt. Sure, some would say that it was an exaggeration and that she was in fact, not dying. However, the fact still remained, she felt like crap and it wasn't up for discussion about just how crappy she was feeling. Beside's, who was the one currently under house arrest and all but bed-ridden due to said pain? Y/N. 

In her bid to feel anything other than slight pain, Y/N thought on her time at the hospital. She had understood quickly the reasoning for why people took flowers to hospital rooms. It was bland and boring. Sure she knew that hospitals were where people went when they needed life saving treatment, but would it kill them to add some colour? Maybe paint the walls a light shade of something that would give the rooms a bit of life?

The room was essentially a concrete pen with a window the size of a biscuit tin lid. It has that all to familiar disinfectant smell that almost smelt as though the cleaners had poured two whole bottles over every piece of furniture they could reach, and more. She sighed as she shook her head, trying to rid her ears of beeping that she had heard constantly at the hospital from her heart monitor.

"You carry on with your face stuffed in that pillow and you'll be back at the hospital 'cause you forgot to breath." An all to familiar Scottish accent filled the silence of the bedroom. "C'mon now, turn 'round before you do pass out." 

Y/N grumbled under her breath, ignoring him as she gripped the side's of the pillow tightly. "You can't possibly understand what I'm feeling right now." 

"You're right, I don't." He replied, softly. "But I'm trying to help you feel more comfortable here. Can you just turn 'round for me?" He asked, moving around to her side of the bed and picking up the empty glass. "Please?" 

Y/N sighed, lifting her head and turning it to glare up at the Scotsman who was sending her one of his sweet smiled that had her falling apart at the seems. She sighed and nodded, releasing the pillow and turning slowly until she was lead with the back of her head on the pillow. He raised a brow at her as his lips turned upwards, finding it slightly funny that she seemed to be sulking like a child. 

"Do you want more water?" Richard asked, shaking the glass in his hand slightly. "Doctor said you need to keep hydrated. Can't have you ruining my reputation as a good nurse now can we?" He grinned, watching as she snorted a small laugh.  

"You know what they say, snitches get stitches." She muttered, smiling slightly as he laughed, shaking his head as he pointed down at her. 

"You've been snitching on me have you?" He asked, raising a brow as the pair of them laughed quietly. 

Y/N sighed, fiddling with the top of the blanket. "I would like some more water... Please." Y/N muttered, riding herself of the small and eyeing him with a small pout. "Will you lay with me when you come back?" 

He laughed slightly, shaking his head with a found smile at her form. "Of course. I'll be right back." Y/N watched him go, her eyes narrowing at the door when he left, wishing he had not left in the first place.

Three days after the surgery, and she was left feeling a little needy. Not that she was embarrassed by it, she had just went under the knife for a ridiculously amount of time and it wasn't like Richard was bothered by it either. She had spent twenty four hours after the surgery in the hospital where she was monitored before being released under the exception that she rest. 

Y/N was sure that if she didn't have Richard, she wouldn't have been able to cope. She felt as though she could survive anything with him by her side. To her it felt as though when he was around her, she thrived as though he was her prescription, finer than any doctor could ever prescribe. When he left, she felt down, even if it was just to grab some more water. 

"Hey," Richard tore her from her thoughts as he entered the room, glass of water in one hand and a packet in his other. "I know you said no more tablets but this'll help you with the pain." 

"They make me sleep." She told him blankly, raising a brow. 

"Then we'll sleep." He told her, moving to place the glass on her bedside counter. "If that's what happens. We've still got a couple hours till dinner, let;s sleep." 

"Will you stay here?" She asked after a moment of silence, eyeing him for any sign of a lie. 

"Course I will." He told her, smiling as he handed over the foiled packet before making his way around to the other wide of the bed. "I said, we've got a couple hours not you. I'm not going anywhere. I've taken time off." 

"You didn't have to tak-"

"You would have done it for me." He told her, essentially silencing her. 

[bbywhitefox123]

description: Essex is an ER nurse and Richard Madden needs his wound to be stitched up.

warnings: blood

The ER smelled like antiseptic and desperation. It was just another night of chaos—overdoses, accidents, and the occasional fistfight fallout. Essex, tired as hell and running on coffee fumes, was at the nurse's station when the automatic doors slid open with a loud whoosh. She turned her head, more out of instinct than curiosity, to see a man staggering inside, clutching his hand with a tight, blood-soaked rag.

"Fuck me," she muttered under her breath, grabbing a pair of gloves off the counter. "Another gunshot wound."

The guy wasn't screaming like most would be. Instead, he looked pale and clenched, like he was holding back more than just blood. Essex stalked over to him, her boots slapping the slick linoleum as she went.

"Sit down. Now," she barked, pointing to the closest empty bed in the triage area. He looked up at her, and for a moment, something about his face flickered in her brain—something annoyingly familiar. But she was too busy trying to figure out how deep his injury was to care.

He sat, trembling slightly, and let her pull his hand into the light. The rag was soaked through, dark red with fresh blood.

"I shot myself," he said, his voice calm but strained.

Essex raised an eyebrow. "Well no shit. How'd it happen?" she asked, cutting through the rag with a pair of shears to get a better look. "And before you start, I'll need to contact the cops."

"No, no, no," the guy blurted, shaking his head. "It was an accident. Totally an accident."

"Everyone says it's an accident, but I'm not risking my license because some idiot shot himself," Essex said flatly, tossing the rag aside. The wound wasn't life-threatening, but it was a fucking mess. Bullet grazed right through the palm, luckily missing any vital tendons. Still, the blood was flowing freely. She grabbed some gauze and pressed down hard.

"Look, seriously," he panted, as if on the edge of panic, "I'm an actor. It was on set. Prop gun, okay? Just...decorative."

Essex shot him a look. "Decorative guns don't usually go off, mate. You sure about that?"

"Yeah," he said, eyes wide and desperate. "I swear. You can google me, I'm—" He winced as she applied more pressure to the wound. "I'm Richard Madden."

She paused, the name meaning nothing to her. "Who?"

The guy—Richard—looked like he was about to lose his mind. "I'm an actor! Game of Thrones, Eternals, Bodyguard...you don't watch TV?"

Essex snorted. "I don't have time to watch people pretend to die on screen when I'm cleaning up the aftermath of idiots doing it for real."

He winced again, more from her words than the pain in his hand. "Please," he begged, pulling his phone out of his pocket with his good hand. "Just—just let me show you."

She stepped back for a second, watching him frantically scroll through his phone, searching his own name like a man trying to prove he wasn't losing his grip on reality. His breathing was getting heavier, and Essex worried the blood loss might be getting to him.

"Relax, you're hyperventilating," she muttered. "Not gonna help your case."

"Here!" He thrust his phone at her. "Look."

Essex took the phone, still unimpressed, and glanced at the screen. His face was plastered all over Google—red carpets, movie stills, interviews. She squinted at one of the pictures. Something clicked.

"Oh, holy shit," she said flatly. "You're the dead guy. From Game of Thrones. The Stark guy."

"Yes! Yes, Robb Stark!" He looked relieved, almost too relieved. "That's me."

Essex huffed, tossing his phone back to him. "Alright, fine, Robb Stark. You still need to file a report if you shot yourself, famous or not. And don't go getting all medieval on me."

"Jesus," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "It was a fucking accident. Can't we just...skip the police part?"

She wasn't having it. "Nope. Look, I don't care if you're royalty in some fantasy world, Madden. You got shot, and I've got protocols. You'll be lucky if the cops don't laugh you out of the station when you tell them how your 'decorative' gun did this."

He sighed heavily, eyes closing as she finally started stitching up the wound. "Fine. Whatever. Just...don't make a scene, okay?"

Essex smirked as she worked, her needle threading with the same kind of precision her grandmother used for knitting angry scarves at home. "Oh, darling. You're the one that walked into an ER with a bullet in your hand. If anyone's making a scene, it's you."

For a minute both of them kept quiet until she finished stitching Richard's hand, the needle threading through his skin with an efficiency that came from years of dealing with dumbass injuries. She tied off the last knot with a sharp tug, then grabbed a roll of bandages to wrap the wound.

"Alright," she muttered, pressing the bandage against his hand a little harder than necessary. "That should hold you together for now. Sit tight. I'll go grab the doctor, get him to sign off on this, and—"

"Let me guess," Richard cut in, his voice a bit more strained now. "You're still calling the cops, right?"

Essex rolled her eyes. "You got it, genius. Someone shoots themselves with a 'decorative' gun, the cops are getting called. Protocol. Doesn't matter how pretty your face is."

Richard sighed heavily, leaning his head back against the wall behind him. "Yeah, I figured. Just thought I'd try one last time to get out of that."

Essex snorted, her lips curling into a smirk. "Good luck with that. You might've been a king on TV, but here? You're just another dumbass who shot himself."

He let out a small chuckle, his good hand massaging his forehead as if he could rub away the embarrassment. "Brilliant. Really fantastic. This is going to make for a hell of a story."

Essex stood up to leave but paused when she felt his eyes on her again. "What now?" she asked, a bit impatient.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, voice low, almost hesitant.

She sighed, turning back to face him. "What?"

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, almost boyish despite the situation. "What's your name? I mean, I should at least know the name of the nurse who just saved me from looking like a complete idiot."

Essex raised an eyebrow. "Essex."

He blinked. "Essex? Like the place?"

"Yeah," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Essex living in London. My parents weren't exactly creative."

Richard laughed, the sound louder than she expected. "Essex from London! That's brilliant."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, laugh it up, Stark. I've heard all the jokes."

He grinned at her like he'd just found something amusing in the whole miserable situation. "Nah, I'm not laughing at you. It's just... I dunno. It suits you. Essex from London." He said it again, like he was trying it out in his mouth, like it was some kind of personal joke.

"Whatever," she muttered, shaking her head. "Don't get too attached to it. I'm not here to be your fucking comic relief."

Richard raised his hands in mock surrender, a playful glint still in his eyes. "No, no, of course not. You're definitely not the type to fuck around, are you?"

"Damn right," she said with a smirk. "And if you don't stop stalling, I'll have to remind you I'm the one who decides how tight those stitches stay."

Richard laughed again, a bit more quietly this time, but his eyes softened. "Fair enough, Essex from London. Fair enough."

She turned on her heel and started heading out the door. "Stay put," she called over her shoulder. "Doctor will be in soon. And the cops too, whether you like it or not."

He sighed again, but there was no fight left in him. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be here."

As she walked out, she could still hear him muttering her name under his breath, as if it was some inside joke only he understood.

"Essex from fucking London," she muttered to herself, shaking her head with a grin she couldn't quite suppress. "What an asshole."

Essex marched down the hall with a mission, her boots echoing sharply on the hospital floor. The whole encounter with Richard Madden—the Richard Madden—had left her mildly annoyed but more amused than she cared to admit. She found the attending doctor, Dr. Patel, by the nurse's station, filling out a chart.

"Doctor," she said, walking up briskly. "Patient in triage, gunshot wound to the hand. Richard Madden, actor, shot himself with some bullshit decorative gun. He's stable now, but we've got to call the cops."

Dr. Patel raised an eyebrow, barely glancing up from his paperwork. "Richard Madden? The actor? Seriously?"

Essex rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know. But I still called the police. He's not getting out of that just because he played a dead guy on Game of Thrones."

The doctor sighed, scribbling something on the chart before handing it off to her. "Alright, I'll head over and sign off on his discharge. You made sure the cops are on their way?"

"Already done," Essex replied with a firm nod. "Shouldn't be long before they get here."

She turned and made her way back to the triage room, her mind already racing through the next steps. Paperwork. Police statements. The whole damn circus that followed when someone did something stupid and famous enough to attract attention.

But when she walked into the room, her stomach dropped. The bed was empty.

For a second, she blinked, thinking maybe she was seeing things wrong—he couldn't have just vanished, right? But the crisp, white hospital sheets were perfectly undisturbed. No trace of blood. No sign of Richard fucking Madden.

"Shit," Essex muttered under her breath, her heart rate kicking up. She scanned the room as if he might've ducked under the bed or behind the curtain, but there was nothing. He was gone.

That idiot had fled.

She stormed back out into the hallway, cursing under her breath as she grabbed a passing nurse. "Did you see a guy leave here?" she demanded. "Tall, dark hair, injured hand, thinking he's fucking clever?"

The nurse blinked in confusion. "Uh, no. I didn't see anyone."

"Fuck!" Essex snapped, shoving a hand through her hair. Of course. Of fucking course he'd bolted. Celebrities, they always thought they could escape the consequences because they were pretty and famous.

She turned on her heel and headed back to the nurse's station, already dialing the number for security. When the guard picked up, she barked into the phone, "Hey, this is Nurse Essex. We've got a runner—Richard Madden. Gunshot wound to the hand. Check all the exits. Don't let that bastard out."

The guard acknowledged her command, but Essex was already hanging up, slamming the phone down harder than necessary. She could feel the irritation bubbling inside her, threatening to boil over. She'd just fixed him up, followed protocol, and now the asshole thought he could just sneak off like nothing happened?

"Son of a bitch," she growled, pacing back and forth. "Of all the fucking things to happen tonight..."

The police would be here soon, but if Richard had a head start, he might already be halfway out the damn building. Maybe he figured fame could get him out of dealing with the cops—or maybe he just didn't want to face the embarrassment of explaining why he'd shot himself with a prop.

Either way, Essex wasn't about to let him get off that easy.

Not five minutes had passed when Dr. Patel strolled up to the triage area, chart in hand, looking as calm as ever. Essex was still fuming by the nurses' station, trying to keep her cool while waiting for security to radio back. Her heart was racing, but she was outwardly composed—barely.

"Where's your famous patient?" Dr. Patel asked, raising an eyebrow as he approached.

Essex exhaled sharply through her nose, leaning against the counter. "Gone," she said flatly.

Dr. Patel blinked, then tilted his head slightly as if he hadn't heard her right. "Gone?"

"Yeah," Essex repeated, her voice dripping with irritation. "Fucking fled. Out the door, gone. Vanished into thin air like a goddamn magician."

Dr. Patel's brows furrowed in disbelief. "You're telling me Richard Madden just walked out of here with a stitched-up gunshot wound to his hand, and no one noticed?"

"Exactly what I'm telling you, doc," she snapped, the frustration seeping into her tone. She folded her arms across her chest, her gaze darting toward the entrance. "I've already called security. They're checking the exits. But he's probably halfway to whatever posh fucking hideaway he crawled out of by now."

The doctor sighed, rubbing his temples. "Of course. Of course, this would happen on your shift."

Essex shot him a look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he said calmly, "that somehow you always manage to get stuck with the patients who cause the most drama. And now we're dealing with a runaway actor who's going to have to explain himself to the police sooner or later."

"Well, I did my part," Essex grumbled. "Fixed him up, called the cops—hell, I even gave him a little life lesson on not being a complete idiot. But apparently, he thought he could Houdini his way out of here."

Dr. Patel looked at her for a moment, then shook his head with a resigned smile. "You really don't care about who he is, do you?"

"Why should I?" Essex shot back, her arms still crossed. "Bleeding out in front of me or bleeding out in front of a fucking camera—either way, he's just another guy who needs stitches. Being famous doesn't change the fact that he's a dumbass who shot himself."

The doctor chuckled lightly. "Fair enough. But now we've got a missing patient and cops on the way. They're not going to be thrilled about this."

Essex shrugged, completely unbothered. "Not my problem. Let them chase him down. I'll give them all the details. He's the one who made this harder on himself by running."

Dr. Patel sighed again, looking around the empty room as if hoping Richard might suddenly reappear. "Well, I hope he's not planning on dodging us for too long. Otherwise, this is going to turn into a whole new level of chaos."

Essex smirked. "Let him deal with the chaos. I'm just here to patch people up and make sure they don't bleed out on my floor. If he wants to play the escape artist, that's on him."

The doctor gave her a half-smile and patted her on the shoulder. "Alright. Well, I'm sure the cops will love hearing this one."

Essex watched as Dr. Patel headed back toward his rounds, shaking his head slightly. She grabbed a fresh cup of coffee from the break station and leaned against the counter, waiting for the inevitable questioning from the police when they arrived.

"Fucking celebrities," she muttered under her breath, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. "Always think they can do whatever they want."

Still, a part of her couldn't help but feel a tiny bit impressed. Richard Madden had been stitched up and covered in blood, but he'd still managed to vanish like a ghost. She couldn't say she hadn't seen worse, but something about the audacity of it all made her laugh quietly to herself.

Let the police deal with him. She had more important things to worry about.

Essex was ready to move on with her night, shaking off the Richard Madden debacle as just another bizarre ER experience. She grabbed her clipboard and made her way toward the ward to check on her next patient, trying to refocus her mind on the work ahead. But just as she was rounding the corner, the receptionist, a chatty woman named Dana, flagged her down.

"Hey, Essie!" Dana called out, leaning over the counter. "Wait up a sec!"

Essex sighed internally, forcing herself to stop and turn around. "What is it, Dana? Got another patient bleeding out that needs stitches? Or did some other celebrity decide to shoot themselves?"

Dana grinned, shaking her head. "Nope. But some guy left this for you."

She held up a crumpled twenty-dollar bill, waving it in the air like it was something special.

Essex blinked, eyeing the money with confusion. "What? Who the hell left that?"

Dana shrugged, but her grin widened mischievously. "He said it was for 'Essex from London.' Told me to give you this and said to tell you, 'Thanks for the stitches.'"

Essex stared at the twenty in disbelief for a moment, then snorted. "Oh, for fuck's sake. He's tipping me now?"

Dana laughed, handing her the bill. "Apparently. Who am I to question it? It's not every day we get celebrity patients leaving tips like we're a goddamn diner."

Essex took the money, shaking her head in amused disbelief. "Unbelievable. The guy pulls a runner and then sends me a fucking tip."

Dana winked at her. "Well, at least he appreciated your work! Maybe you'll get a shout-out in his next interview or something. 'Essex from London saved my ass.' Could be your big break."

"Yeah, right," Essex scoffed, stuffing the twenty into her pocket. "I'm sure that'll do wonders for my career. 'Nurse Essex: fixing up idiots and getting tips for it.'"

Dana chuckled. "Hey, take what you can get, girl."

Essex gave her a smirk before heading back down the hall. "Yeah, sure. Maybe next time he'll leave me enough for a drink."

As she walked away, the absurdity of the situation settled in. The whole night had been one for the books—patching up Richard Madden, watching him bolt like a scared rabbit, and now being tipped like a waitress for her troubles.

Still, twenty bucks was twenty bucks. She'd make sure it didn't go to waste. Maybe she'd grab a beer after her shift, toast to the ridiculousness of it all, and then let it fade into just another weird night in the ER.

"Fucking celebrities," she muttered under her breath, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she headed to see her next patient.

chapter 2->

[bbywhitefox123]

description: Essex in an ER nurse and Richard Madden needs his wound stitched.

Essex kicked off her shoes as she stepped through the front door, the weariness of another long night shift weighing heavily on her shoulders. She dropped her bags of Indian food onto the kitchen counter, the savory scent of curry wafting through the air and making her stomach growl. All she wanted was to sit down, shove some food in her face, and forget about the craziness of the last week - namely, the unexpected run-in with Richard Madden.

"Essie, come see this!" her grandmother called from the living room, her voice a mix of excitement and warmth.

Essex sighed, her heart sinking slightly. "What is it, Gran?" she called back, already guessing.

"Richard Madden is on the Graham Norton Show!"

Great. Just what she needed. Essex had hoped to avoid any reminders of that bizarre encounter, but here was her grandmother, thrilled and raving about the latest celebrity gossip, as if Richard were a long-lost family member.

"Yeah, I'll be right there," Essex replied, washing her hands in the kitchen sink. She scrubbed away the remnants of the hospital - antiseptic and the faintest trace of someone's blood - before drying her hands on a towel.

With a resigned huff, she made her way to the living room, Indian food in hand. As she rounded the corner, she caught the tail end of Richard's story, his smooth voice filling the room, charming and full of that signature British wit.

"...and then I realized the gun wasn't a prop at all!" he said, leaning back in his chair, a playful glint in his eye. "Turns out, I shot myself with a decorative gun that was meant to be on display. I thought I was gonna die from embarrassment more than the actual injury!"

Essex rolled her eyes, dropping the food onto the table with a bit more force than necessary. "Great. Just great," she muttered, earning a curious glance from her grandmother.

"What's wrong, Essie? You don't like him, do you?" her grandmother asked, beaming. She loved to watch the latest celebrity interviews, and Richard was one of her favorites.

"Yeah, well, I had the pleasure of stitching him up last week," Essex replied, crossing her arms. "He's just another overgrown man-child who thinks he can do whatever he wants because he's famous."

Her grandmother laughed, clearly amused. "Oh, come on! He's just telling a funny story. Look how he's making everyone laugh!"

Essex plopped down on the couch, trying to suppress her irritation while pouring herself a glass of water. She could feel Richard's charisma seeping through the screen, and she hated that it annoyed her more than it should have.

"I don't care how charming he is; he still ran off like a scared rabbit," she muttered, her eyes glued to the screen.

Richard continued to regale the audience with exaggerated gestures, the audience erupting with laughter at his every word. "And that nurse, she was a real lifesaver!" Richard said, grinning widely. "Honestly, I owe my career to her. She's the real star of the show."

Essex nearly choked on her water. "Oh, for fuck's sake. Really? Is he really doing this?"

Her grandmother shot her a look. "What? You didn't want him to say something nice about you?"

"Nice?" Essex scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "More like he's turning it into a pity party. He could've just owned up to being a moron."

Richard went on, clearly enjoying the attention, but Essex couldn't help but feel a tiny twinge of annoyance mixed with something else - a begrudging respect, perhaps. She had done her job, but hearing him talk about her like she was some sort of heroine was both infuriating and a little flattering.

"Essie, he's really funny! And cute!" her grandmother chimed in, her eyes sparkling. "You should try to find him on social media or something."

Essex only stared at her grandmother for a mere second. There was something about old people and the internet - they thought they could reach anyone who had Wi-Fi.

Her grandmother sighed, glancing back at the TV. "Well, I think he's charming. And so humble, considering the situation."

Essex rolled her eyes again, but she couldn't completely dismiss the charm. As much as she wanted to, she was still curious about how he was handling this newfound fame from that ridiculous incident.

"Whatever," Essex muttered, getting up to grab the takeout containers. "Let's just eat before it gets cold."

As she dished out the food, she couldn't help but listen in as Richard wrapped up his story. "And I just want to say a massive thank you to Essex from London - if you're watching, you're a legend!"

Essex dropped the ladle, splattering a bit of curry on the counter. "Son of a bitch," she muttered, a mix of embarrassment and irritation flooding her.

"See? He's talking about you!" her grandmother said, laughing. "You really are a celebrity now, Essie!"

"Great. Just what I wanted," Essex replied, trying to mask the flush creeping into her cheeks. "Now let's eat before I change my mind and end up throwing the food at the TV."

"Too late!" her grandmother teased, her eyes glued to Richard's charming smile, completely oblivious to Essex's rising annoyance.

As Essex sat down with her food, she couldn't shake off the ridiculousness of it all. A week ago, she was stitching up Richard Madden in the ER, and now she was watching him charm his way through a talk show, all while her grandmother gushed over him like he was the second coming.

"Fucking celebrities," she muttered, though the smirk on her face betrayed her true feelings.

Essex was finally starting to relax, enjoying the spicy, fragrant food after the insanity of the past week, when her grandmother turned to her with a playful glint in her eye.

"By the way, Essie, your mother called earlier," she said, leaning back in her chair with a smug expression. "She wants to know when you're planning on visiting her in New York."

Essex groaned internally, stirring her curry with a bit more force than necessary. "Yeah, I'm busy," she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She hated the pressure of her mother's expectations, especially when it came to family visits.

"Busy? Busy doing what? Working yourself into the ground at that hospital?" her grandmother pressed, her tone teasing but insistent. "You haven't seen her in months! She'd love to have you."

Essex took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. "Gran, I said I'm busy," she reiterated, her irritation rising. "And besides, I don't need a lecture about family. I'm a grown-ass woman."

Her grandmother raised her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it. But you know how your mother can be. You don't want her worrying about you, do you?"

Before Essex could respond with another snarky remark, there was a sharp knock at the door. Thank God, she thought. A timely distraction from this conversation that was going nowhere.

"Hold on," she said, pushing herself up from the table. She walked to the door, half-excited to see who it might be. Maybe it was a neighbor with some hot gossip or a friend stopping by unannounced. But when she pulled the door open, her heart sank.

Standing there was Andrew, her ex-boyfriend. The sight of him brought a flood of memories, all tinged with frustration and anger. Andrew was the reason Essex had nearly moved in with him, the one who had made her feel all those hopeful butterflies, only to crush them with his infidelity.

"Hey, Essie," he said, a casual smile plastered on his face. He looked good, as always—dark hair tousled just right, wearing a fitted jacket that accentuated his build. But she wasn't going to fall for it again.

"What do you want, Andrew?" she snapped, crossing her arms defensively.

He stepped closer, trying to keep his tone upbeat. "I wanted to invite you to Liam's birthday party at this new club. It's going to be amazing! You should come."

Essex's eyebrows shot up, caught off guard by the sudden proposal. "You've got to be kidding me. I'm not interested in hanging out with you or your friends."

"Come on, Essie," he urged, his smile faltering slightly. "It'll be fun! Everyone will be there. It's been ages since you've seen any of them."

"Yeah, and the last time I saw them, you were busy cheating on me with half the city," she shot back, her voice low but firm. "What part of that do you think I'd want to relive?"

Andrew ran a hand through his hair, looking slightly defeated. "I know, I know. I messed up. But I've changed, I swear! Can we just put that behind us? It's Liam's party—he'd really love to see you."

"Look, Andrew," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "I'm not doing this. I don't want to see you or anyone from that part of my life. It's over."

Andrew's expression shifted from hopeful to defensive, and she could see the frustration building. "You can't just keep running away from everything. It's been over a year!"

Essex inhaled deeply, her patience wearing thin. "And what do you expect? That I'll just forget everything because you show up with an invitation? You're delusional."

"Okay, okay. Just think about it, alright?" He stepped back, hands raised in surrender. "I'll text you the details. Just... don't shut me out like this."

Before she could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, heart racing and irritation boiling.

"Fucking Andrew," she muttered under her breath, shutting the door firmly behind her. She leaned against it, taking a moment to gather herself. The nerve of him—inviting her to a party like they were old friends after everything that had happened.

Her grandmother, who had witnessed the whole exchange from the living room, looked at her with wide eyes. "Well, that was... unexpected."

"Understatement of the year," Essex said, pushing away from the door and walking back to the table, her mind still swirling with the conversation. "I'm not going to that party. No way in hell."

"Essie, you can't avoid him forever. Maybe it's time to talk things out," her grandmother suggested gently.

"Talk things out?" Essex scoffed, exasperated. "He cheated on me, Gran! I'm not interested in hashing out old wounds."

"Maybe not, but he's still part of your life. You'll run into him eventually," her grandmother countered.

Essex plopped back down at the table, frustration coursing through her. "Yeah, well, that doesn't mean I have to keep letting him in. I can't believe he had the gall to show up here."

"Maybe it's a sign," her grandmother said thoughtfully, picking at her food. "You can't avoid your past forever, Essie. But it's your choice."

Essex rolled her eyes, stirring her curry with renewed vigor. "Thanks for the advice, Gran. I'll pass."

As she chewed on her food, the memories of Andrew and their relationship flooded back—mostly the anger and betrayal, but also the good moments they had shared. It made her stomach turn.

"No way in hell," she muttered again, determination firm.

"Still not interested, huh?" her grandmother said, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"Absolutely not," Essex replied, lifting her chin defiantly. "Now, can we change the channel before Richard Madden pops back on?"

"Only if you promise to visit your mother soon," her grandmother shot back playfully, and they both laughed, the earlier tension dissipating.

But as Essex settled in for her meal, she couldn't shake the feeling that Andrew's unexpected appearance might just stir up some unresolved feelings—like it or not.

<- Chapter 1 Chapter 3 ->