#taron

[taronismysugerdaddy]

I need him

It’s funny how attached you can get to a person you don’t even know

[pankowcrumbs]

Fame X Taron Egerton

MasterList

The vibrant red carpet stretched before Y/N like a sea of flashing lights and echoing voices. Her brother, a rising star and newly minted cast member of Kingsman: The Secret Service, walked confidently ahead, basking in the glow of his big moment. Y/N, already a celebrated actor in her own right, was here to support him—tonight wasn’t about her. She lingered a few paces behind, taking in the chaos with a warm, supportive smile.

“Y/N! Over here! Can we get a picture?” the paparazzi yelled. Despite herself, she obliged, pausing to flash a practiced grin before quickly rejoining her brother’s entourage. She hadn’t anticipated much attention tonight, but it seemed the world wasn’t about to ignore her presence.

It was in the midst of this chaos that she first saw him. Taron Egerton stood a few feet away, effortlessly charming a reporter with his signature smile. Dressed in a tailored black suit, his boyish features radiated confidence, but there was a softness to his demeanor that made him approachable. Y/N found herself momentarily captivated.

As if sensing her gaze, Taron glanced her way. Their eyes met—just a fleeting moment—but it was enough to make Y/N’s cheeks flush. She quickly looked away, focusing instead on her brother, who was now deep in conversation with Colin Firth.

“You're Y/N, right?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with Taron, his warm hazel eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“That’s me,” she replied, offering a friendly smile. “And you’re Taron.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his neatly styled hair. “Guilty as charged. I’ve seen a few of your films. You’re incredible.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. “Thank you. That means a lot, coming from someone as talented as you.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he quipped, his grin widening. “Are you here for the film, or…?”

“My brother’s in the cast,” she explained, gesturing toward the group ahead. “I’m just here to support him.”

Taron nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. It’s nice to meet someone who knows what this whirlwind feels like but isn’t caught up in it tonight.”

Their conversation flowed naturally, the noise and chaos around them fading into the background. Taron’s humor and genuine interest made Y/N feel at ease, and she found herself laughing more than she had in weeks. Before they knew it, the premiere was starting, and they were ushered inside.

The days that followed were a blur of headlines and social media buzz. Fan edits of Y/N and Taron on the red carpet flooded the internet, their brief interaction sparking speculation and ship names. At first, it was amusing—the edits were creative, the captions lighthearted—but as the rumors grew, so did the scrutiny.

Y/N’s phone buzzed incessantly with notifications. Her fans were largely supportive, but the darker corners of the internet were less kind. Anonymous comments picked apart her appearance, her career, even her intentions. It was overwhelming.

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” Taron’s voice on the other end of the line was a balm to her frayed nerves.

“You could say that again,” Y/N admitted, sinking onto her couch. “I didn’t think one conversation would turn into… this.”

“Neither did I,” he said, his tone laced with humor. “But for what it’s worth, I’m glad we met. Maybe we should give them something real to talk about.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “Are you saying…?”

“Let me take you out,” Taron offered. “Away from all this noise. Just you and me.”

Their first date was perfect in its simplicity. Taron picked her up in a modest car, far from the flashy rides the tabloids might expect. They drove to a quiet little restaurant on the outskirts of the city, where the staff greeted Taron like an old friend. Over candlelight and hearty food, they talked about everything—their childhoods, their careers, their dreams for the future. Taron’s easygoing nature and genuine interest in her life made Y/N feel seen in a way she hadn’t in years.

As the night wore on, they found themselves walking along a nearby riverbank. The city lights reflected off the water, casting a soft glow over their surroundings. Taron reached for her hand, his touch tentative but warm.

“I know this might be moving fast,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I really like you, Y/N. And I don’t want to let the press or the fans dictate how we go about this.”

Y/N squeezed his hand, her heart full. “I like you too, Taron. And I’m willing to figure this out with you, one step at a time.”

Their relationship wasn’t without its challenges. The fan edits evolved into invasive paparazzi photos, and the online hate grew louder with each public outing. But through it all, Y/N and Taron leaned on each other, their connection strengthening with every obstacle they faced.

One evening, as they sat side by side on her living room couch, scrolling through a mix of supportive and hurtful comments, Taron took her hand.

“You know what I’ve learned?” he said, his voice steady. “The people who matter—our families, our real friends—they see us for who we are. Not for what the tabloids say, or what some stranger on the internet thinks.”

Y/N nodded, his words resonating deeply. “You’re right. And as long as we have each other, we can handle anything.”

Taron smiled, pulling her into his arms. “Exactly.”

In that moment, Y/N realized that while the world around them might always be chaotic, their relationship was a safe haven. Together, they could weather any storm.

[astrollacium15]

Taron moodboard 🐏

The ride is themed to old norse mythology which is pretty cool

[clumsyunicorn87-blog]

[taronfanfic]

Pause

Masterlist

Chapter 9

There wasn’t a plan for where you were heading on your walk, you were letting your feet lead the way. It was nice to have the fresh, crisp morning air hitting your cheeks and nose. Dog walkers, joggers and a few elderly residents passed you by and you cast each of them a polite small smile. Before you knew it you’d arrived at the park and stopped to sit on the bench beneath the oak tree that overlooked the children’s play equipment. It’s emptiness reminded you that it was Tuesday and no kids would be allowed down to the park before school, so the area was left open, peaceful and calm. You’d seen it packed out in the summer school holidays; the kids running, screaming and laughing; the adults watching on with coffees in hand, often chatting to each other around the collection of push chairs, bikes, scooters and everything else that came with parenthood. That would be you soon. You and Taron, hopefully. A whole new chapter of life ahead, new friends, new experiences, new challenges. You’d never felt ready for it. You were never sure if you wanted to let go of the life you had, the free evenings to go to the pub, the free weekends for spontaneous trips away, a Friday night out with the girls where you could dance away the stress of the week and take the whole weekend to recover. It had been your life for so long that changing it was terrifying. But being able to picture the future now made so much sense. Knowing it was on the horizon brought excitement instead of fear. You looked down as you placed your hand over your lower stomach and smiled to yourself. This was going to be the best thing that ever happened to you. You and Taron. You just needed to get things back on track.

The early morning sunshine didn’t last for long, and the grey clouds soon took over the sky. You continued your walk back through the streets and spotted the chalk board being placed outside the local café, ready to take on breakfast orders. Having barely eaten yesterday you were starving. So much so that you didn’t even consider the smell of coffee making you nauseous as you stepped inside. It was like you paused mid-step as it hit you, the swirling scent hitting the back of your throat and making your eyes water as you willed yourself to hold back a gag.

“Morning!” The café owner greeted you cheerfully. “How are you today?”

It took everything in you to let out the breath you were holding and take in another deep one to try and steady your panic. There was no way you could form a reply, or offer a smile.

“Are you alright?” She asked again. “Do you need to sit down?”

You managed to lift your hand and gesture to her to give you a minute. Each new breath you took was better than the one before. This was like a drastic exposure therapy, except your feet weren’t telling you to run.

“Sorry.” You finally replied as you looked up and offered a weak smile. “I’m alright.”

“You sure?” She checked before accepting your nod and moving back behind the counter.

“It’s the coffee smell. Makes me nauseous. New pregnancy thing.” You shook your head as you regained your focus and started to feel a lot better. “Just caught me off-guard. I should have remembered!” You managed to laugh a little. “Clearly thinking with my stomach.”

“Oh bless you, but congratulations too!”

“Thanks.” You felt yourself blushing at her congratulating you. “Good job no one else is in here, I probably shouldn’t be saying it out loud yet.”

“First time?” She asked warmly.

“Yeah, it’s a bit terrifying.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine, let’s get some food in you anyway. That always helps!”

She was 100% right and her full English breakfast hit the spot. The smell of the bacon, toast and beans was enough to mask the coffee takeaway orders that flowed like a river as the morning commute to work kicked in. You were thankful to have a few days off work after phoning in sick yesterday but had no idea what Taron was planning for today. He’d be way too hungover to make it in for 9am. You smiled to yourself as you looked down to your empty plate and knew exactly what he’d need.

“I don’t suppose you could you do a takeaway full English, for my fiancé.” You added on to clarify that you weren’t literally eating for two as you made your second request at the counter.

“Of course I can, lovely. I’ll throw in some extra bacon in case you get peckish on your way back too.”

“Amazing, thank you! It was delicious.” You paid up and collected your takeaway bag, feeling a bit smug about the treat you were bringing back for Taron. It was only as you walked up to your front door that you started to feel nervous about how he’d still be reacting to everything. You did your best to unlock the door quietly and make your way inside, kicking off your shoes and hanging up your jacket before you peered your head around the door into the living room. Taron was awake and sat up, still beneath the throw you’d laid over him before you’d left. He had your note open in his left hand and you watched silently for a few seconds, barely breathing in case you disturbed him. It was as he lifted his right hand to wipe away a tear from his cheek that you couldn’t stand and watch any longer.

“Hey.” You said softly as you stepped inside the door. Taron looked up from the note to take you in and there was a small smile toying at the corner of his lips. “It’s ok, I won’t disturb you, but I have got you breakfast so I’ll plate it up and bring it through.”

“It’s alright, I’ll have it in there. I need to move.” His voice was hoarse and deep, his hair messy and stubble thick but you didn’t stay for too long to admire him, simply nodding in understanding and leaving him in peace.

As the kettle clicked off you grabbed the milk and brown sauce from the fridge, closing the door to see Taron sliding onto the bar stool and looking impressed at the size of the full English breakfast before him.

“This is exactly what I need.” He commented as he picked up his knife and fork. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, it’s good stuff.”

“Oh my word I’ve got like 7 pieces of bacon here.”

“Jesus, there’s extra and then there’s excess!” You replied as you filled two mugs with hot water.

“You asked for extra?”

“No, no. She offered it to me as a snack for the way home, but I saved it for you.” You slid a mug towards Taron and stayed on the opposite side of the breakfast bar, still trying to work out where he was on the scale of pissed off to understanding to forgiveness to whatever else might happen.

“You can have some, there’s plenty. You didn’t eat much yesterday either so you should make up for it, if you’re feeling less sick?”

“You sure?”

“Mmmhm.” He nodded with a mouthful and set his knife down so he could move the bar stool next to him out from the counter for you to take. It was his first gesture of warmth and you felt a weight lift from your stomach and allow you to relax a little.

“Thanks.” You replied as you took a piece from his plate and nibbled at the end. “I think she felt a bit sorry for me in the café as I nearly threw up on her clean floor, and then had to explain the coffee thing.”

“It’s still that bad?”

“I held it back, so maybe not? Plus, people were ordering plenty of coffee when I was eating my breakfast and the nausea didn’t come back, so maybe I’ve cured myself in the process.” You laughed a little in optimism.

“Just be careful with it. I do want you in one piece.” Taron stopped eating with that last comment and held your gaze for long enough for you to know that he was deadly serious. You tried to hold back your smile by taking another bite of bacon, finally feeling the full relief of knowing things weren’t totally fucked.

“I will.”

A few minutes of silence fell between you as Taron focused on eating and you removed the teabags from your mugs before pouring in the perfect amount of milk. It didn’t feel like it was your place to bring up the massive elephant in the room so instead you took the civil mood as a good sign and decided patience was the best plan.

Nothing else was said until Taron got up and slowly walked over to the kitchen door. Your eyes had followed him all the way and you watched as he paused, one hand resting gently against the door frame, but he didn’t turn back to you as he spoke.

“I’m gonna call in sick today. I thought about turning up late and making a lame excuse, but I think we need to… I don’t know, talk? Be together? Just figure this all out at least.”

“Okay.” You replied simply and quietly.

“I’m going to freshen up.”

“Take your time.” That comment had Taron turning back to face you with a frown on his face.

“You don’t want to talk?”

“I do. I just meant I’ll follow your lead, go at your pace. You don’t have to rush if you want longer to process things or…”

“Oh, ok.” His face softened slightly.

“Just come and find me when you’re ready.” You tried your best to be calm, warm and open but that feeling of dread had returned to your stomach. It felt like your future was resting on a spinning coin, undecided on heads or tails and ready to fall the wrong way at one wrong word, tone or expression.

[ex1stenc3]

Welcome to Rookburgh!

THIS TOOK SO LONG TO MAKE IT OMG-

(If you see my smiler oc on top of the building with the clock, it’s because in my lore him and fly are friends)

(Speedpaint because why not)

(Also can you tell who are the characters in the wanted signs? 👀)

[njnetails]

Character voice tag!

Thank you @drchenquill for the tag!

My line: Clearly, you thought wrong.

Taron: "You're so dumb. That's not it."

Corelion: "I was wondering when you would have realised you were, in fact, wrong."

Luna: "No, dummy, it's not like that!"

Himmel: "I am aware that your capacity of understanding is low, but I would have never thought it is this low."

Nihil: He laughs. "Keep going, I like hearing you speak like you know what you're talking about."

I tag @cheshawrites, @writingsfromspace, @the-ellia-west, @possiblylisle and everyone else who sees this!

Your line will be: Just come back home.

[soob1nn]

MY LOVE INTEREST - ADULT ACTRESS FAME DR

REMINDER! I haven’t shifted yet, so all these is just my imagination 🤍

masterlist - main mastelist

Ah, the person who holds my heart's key – my love interest. They're the protagonist of the captivating story that is my life. Every time our eyes meet, it's as if the pages of a romantic novel come to life, painting my world with vivid emotions, suspense, and a hint of enchantment. Waiting for their messages is like unwrapping a sweet surprise, and their mere presence infuses my world with the comforting warmth of affection. They're the composer of the symphony that makes my heart dance to the joyful rhythm of love.

TARON EGERTON

Taron Egerton and I crossed paths during a time of transition in my life. I had just wrapped up filming "Top Gun: Maverick" and returned to my home in LA, seeking a fresh start.

Our meeting was a result of my father's influence. In March 2022, Taron was invited to a family dinner at my parents' home in LA. He happened to be in the city due to the shooting of a TV show. After that initial meeting, we began chatting via Instagram, and a connection slowly started to take shape.

I confided in Taron that I wasn't ready for a new relationship, and to my surprise, he was patient and understanding. Over the course of a couple of months, he managed to change my mind, and by July 2022, we officially started dating.

Despite wrapping up his TV show in June, Taron chose to stay in LA for me. He rented a house for a few months before making a big step by moving in with me in October 2022. It was a significant milestone in our relationship.

Notably, my father Hugh had mixed feelings about our relationship at first, but with time, he came to love and support us (he didn’t had another option)

Taron's interests included playing the piano and enjoying the serenity of the beach. He had a deep passion for food, particularly Chinese cuisine. Together, we bonded over building Legos and cooking, with a special fondness for Star Wars Legos. He was, in many ways, a 32-year-old geek at heart, and I adored him for it.

[ascendantking]

;; The Royal Roast

Pairing: Jaron/Tobias, Amarinda of Bultain/Imogen Words: 1045 Chapter: 1/? Summary: A modern college au set in a coffee shop between two rival universities. While the Carthyan Patriots and the Avenian Dragons clash, a quiet courtship begins between Tobias, an overworked med student, and Jaron, a young entrepreneur with a penchant for trouble.

Baggy eyes and a hunched back marked the man who came in every morning like clockwork, stealing a table hidden away in the recesses of the cafe–barely lit by the only window that wasn’t taking it upon itself to blind the patrons at this hour. His order was always the same: a coffee with way too many shots of espresso, a cream cheese bagel, and, if he was feeling daring, an eclair that they had to assume he took with him to whatever classes were breaking his back because he definitely didn’t touch it when he was here.

The red eye staff had their bets placed on if he actually ate it after it had, inevitably, been squished in his bag or if he only ordered it to prove to himself that he could order something else. Most of them were leaning towards the latter, of course, with the way he stumbled through his words whenever he did decide to vary it.

But Jaron had thrown his hat in the ring on another, more far-fetched idea–one Imogen and Roden hadn’t cared for much at all. He was of the notion that since he had happened to be the only one to convince him to try something different then it was only logical to assume that he liked him. 

Continue reading below or on AO3! ( Link on blog. )

Right. That’s what this was. Imogen couldn’t let this fantasy go on any longer as she rolled her eyes. “Or you make him nervous.”

“Because he likes me,” Jaron insisted as he emphasized his teasing with a smolder.

”Or, get this,” she said, smiling as she shook her hands in front of herself, her grin immediately falling, “he may not like being put on the spot.”

Jaron laughed, stacking the cups off to the side. “I dunno, I think you’re just jealous that–” Imogen cocked her hip, putting her hand on her side, snorting herself. “Sure. If that’s the rabbit you want to chase today, just make sure it doesn’t get in the way of your job. Why don’t you help organize the back once you’re done there?”

“You don’t want my pretty face up front today?”

Imogen tilted her head at him, fluttering her eyelashes innocently. “Are you asking me if I want customers today?” She paused, putting a finger on her lip. “Hm.” She let a moment pass as if her question held any of the significance that warranted such a lengthy pause. “You know, Jaron,” she said, nodding slowly, “you should be up front. Give the door your best smile.”

He snorted, waving her off. “It’s like you have no faith in me.”

“Is it that obvious?” Imogen asked with a grin. She nudged him as she passed. “Just make sure you’re ready to go. We open in five.”

Jaron rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. It can’t be any worse than yesterday, can it?”

Imogen stopped abruptly. Her eyes flicked back to him with faux seriousness. “Do you like testing god?”

“When it suits me,” he said with a wink. Imogen took in a breath, shaking her head as she finished cleaning off one of the machines on the back wall. Jaron leaned down on the counter, crossing his legs behind him as he watched the streets slowly come to life, cars lazily drifting by as the street lights went off one by one, each one taking a bow as the morning sun took its rightful place on stage.

“Do you think he’ll be here today?” he asked barely above a whisper.

Imogen looked back at him, raising an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes. “I’m beginning to think you’re the one that likes him. Careful, wouldn’t want people thinking you can catch feelings.” She held her nose as if the concept itself stunk before snickering to herself. 

Jaron snorted, looking back out towards the door, a slight tinge of red on his face. Sure, maybe he wanted to get to know the guy, but that was all it was. He let out a sigh, pushing himself up off the counter to flip the sign to Open. He wasn’t one to pine over someone, he thought to himself as he peeked his head out to look down the sidewalk. No sign of him–oh, no, he meant anyone yet, yeah.

He closed the door again, brushing off his hands before he cracked them in front of himself. “Time to get down to business,” Jaron said to no one in particular as he hopped the counter.

Just because he had noticed that Tobias had come in almost every day for the past two weeks since he started working these early shifts meant nothing. He had a unique look to him! Wiry and tall, with perceptively kind eyes, as if he could read someone like a book but without even a crease or dog-ear on the pages as he went through their life story. It seemed silly now, Jaron realized, comparing him to an old librarian type when Jaron was the one attempting to judge a book by a cover himself. 

But he just couldn’t help it! Tobias carried himself like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders–like if he stopped for one minute, it would all collapse in a messy heap at his feet. Jaron sighed, furrowing his brows as he leaned against the counter again. It wasn’t fair for a man to carry the world alone–what a lonely thing that was, the heaviness of a responsibility only one man knows. If only he could do something to help–then maybe Tobias’ face might not wrinkle up as much as it did in the few moments Jaron saw of him a day. Jaron stood back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh–maybe he’d get him that eclair for free today. Sure, it wasn’t much, but sometimes even little things could make a big deal, even if they seemed insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

A nervous energy ate at him as he rocked back and forth on his heels. God, he hoped he came in today–maybe they could say more than just the usual pleasantries, maybe he could even get a how’s the weather out there started.

A guy could dream, couldn’t he?

[caulfixld]

HE’S ALIVEEEEEE

[wholesome-madderton]

I'm about to say something extremely cringey

[taronismysugerdaddy]

He is one sexy man

[chicinsilk]

Pierre Balmain Haute Couture Collection Fall/Winter 1954-55. Marie-Thérèse wears a lamé brocaded frock coat with Persian designs of small pink, green and gold palmettes on a white wool, silk, acetate and metal background from Staron lined with brown mink, brown velvet toque and mink of the same tone.

Pierre Balmain Collection Haute Couture Automne/Hiver 1954-55. Marie-Thérèse porte une redingote en broché lamé à dessins persans de petites palmettes roses, verts et or sur fond blanc laine, soie, acétate et métal de Staron bordée de vison marron, toque en velours marron et vison de même ton.

Photo Mark Shaw.

[clumsyunicorn87-blog]

[taronfanfic]

Pause

Masterlist

Chapter 8

The nerves in your stomach had gone into overdrive before you’d even had a chance to register how nervous you felt. You sat down at the kitchen table and tried to take a few slow and deep breaths. A wave of nausea hit you and you weren’t 100 percent sure if it was from the smell of the toast or this weird fear of being vulnerable to Taron. It wasn’t like you hadn’t opened up to him before. He’d been by your side throughout everything that happened with your Dad, and he’d always done his best to put you first, to look after you and care for you and be the perfect boyfriend. Those memories should have put your mind at ease but as you looked over to him, watching his back as he buttered your toast you knew this was different. This was as much his life as yours and you were being selfish, difficult, fickle and right now emotionally draining too. Something in your gut knew this wasn’t going to go well and there was nothing you could do about it.

“I’ve left it plain but if you want jam or something let me know.” Taron placed the plate down in front of you and then held the back of his hand against your forehead to check your temperature. “You’re not roasting, but you’re not looking that good either. Maybe you should have a lie down once you’ve had this.”

“Taron, can you stop.” You swatted his hand away from you. “Less fuss, more space.” You were too blunt from your nerves and immediately cursed yourself for not helping matters.

“Sorry. Can I sit, or do you want me to go?” He lingered by the chair opposite you and waited for you to nod before pulling it out and sitting down. “Talk to me. You seem all over the place.”

“I just can’t do it.” You sighed. “I can’t see a way of anything working out… like, I don’t think it’s what I want anymore.”

“What’s not?” Taron was frowning in confusion.

“The wedding. We need to cancel the wedding.” The piece of toast you’d picked up and held to your lips was swiftly returned to your plate as you said the words out loud.

“What?” Taron asked quickly. “Completely?”

“I can’t do it, it’s too much.”

“Y/N, why? I thought-” You cut him off before he could finish.

“I know I was pushing for it, and I did want it, but now it’s just… it’s not going to be right. For us. Too much has changed.” You added on in the hope of him seeing that you’d tried to think of him too.

“What the fuck?!” He stood up from his chair and the sound it of it scraping against the wooden floor made you jump slightly. “Where has this come from?... You don’t want to marry me anymore?” He took two steps back and ran both hands over his hair. “Wow. How have we gone from everything that just happened in the living room to this, here, now? Or did it not go to plan back there? You’d been ignoring me all afternoon so you could plan what to say but you bottled it. Or I was too nice, so you told me you loved me but didn’t mean it?”

“No. No, that’s-” He cut you off this time.

“This is insane.”

“You’re not listening to me.” You said firmly but Taron was gone. Lost to a rage cooked up far too quickly.

“Oh, I am! What about the baby? I bet that’s next on your list. Start with the wedding as it’s minor in comparison and then say you want an abortion... Fucking hell!” He turned his back to you.

“Taron, no!” You shouted back, trying to get him to snap out of his thoughts and listen to you. “That’s not what I meant. You’ve got this all wrong.”

“But it’s what you said.” He turned back to face you with a stubborn fire in his eyes. “It’s not what you want, you can’t do it, you don’t see how it can work. You can’t get much clearer than that, Y/N. Cancel the wedding! I was listening.”

“Stop. This is so, so wrong.” You succumbed to tears too easily, feeling too weak to put up much of a fight. Your head was still a mess and however hard you tried you couldn’t think quickly enough to find the right words to pacify Taron before he’d jumped to the next conclusion.

“I honestly don’t know what I’ve done wrong here. I’ve gone out of my way so many times to make sure you’re happy, and for what? What is it? Do you suddenly feel trapped? The thought of being stuck with me for the next 50 years has made you want to run now before it’s too late?”

“No. No, no, no.” You sobbed, unable to find any other words.

“I’m fucking lost, Y/N… and I don’t think I can do this either. If you don’t want me anymore then… I’m out of here. I’m not sticking around to feel you put the knife in my heart again and again. You’ve fucking blindsided me today and it’s brutal.”

“Stop. Please, just stop.” You held your head in your hands, unable to look at Taron and see the pain you’d caused him. “Let me explain because this has gone way too far and it’s not where we should be. I didn’t mean any of it like that. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t even know if I want to hear anymore right now. If you dare try and justify how you can go from making me the happiest I’ve ever felt to wanting out in the space of 48 hours… No. I can’t let you do that to me. I can’t.”

“Taron, please. That’s not what I want. Not at all.” You sighed, struggling to find the energy to fight him.

“No, I’m going out. You do whatever you need to do. Cancel the wedding, pack your bags and go to Gemma’s. I don’t care right now.” He picked up his phone from the table and his keys from the sideboard in the hall before stopping to look at you one final time.

“I love you.” You offered him weakly but only got a sarcastic shake of his head in reply.

***

It was still dark when you woke up. Your skin felt rough and brittle beneath the dried-up tracks of your tears that fell freely when you’d cried yourself to sleep. You’d not bothered trying to call or message Taron. He wouldn’t have picked up or replied even if you had. You knew he’d have gone to the pub and got the boys down to help drink him into oblivion. It was what happened last time when you’d fallen out over the house renovation. With no spare room to resort to you had packed a bag and gone to stay with Gemma. All of that seemed so trivial compared to now. That was months of living on top of each other on a ridiculously tight budget and constant bickering. You were pressing each other’s buttons for fun, and then revenge, and one night it all blew up in your face. It took a few days for things to calm, but you talked, you listened, you apologised, and you had the best make up sex of your life. Things didn’t feel remotely similar now.

Taron’s side of the bed was empty and cold, the bedding left untouched. You thew on your joggers and hoodie and made your way across the landing, pushing open the door to the spare room slowly only to find it empty too. It was horrible to feel your heart sinking down your chest at the thought of him deciding not to come home last night. It was even worse knowing you’d caused his pain.

You continued your path through the house, down the stairs which were softly lit from the early morning dawn and headed to the kitchen, stopping instantly to do a double take at the figure sprawled out on the sofa. Taron’s shoes were still on, his keys and phone dropped to the rug beneath where his arm was dangling over the edge. You hadn’t realised how deep the breath you’d been holding was until it released from you in relief. He was home. That might have meant nothing, or it could be everything. All you knew was that you had some serious apologising, explaining and making up to do, and it started here.

Warmth was provided from your favourite throw as you lifted it from the back of the sofa and placed it over Taron’s body, taking a moment to watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest and reminding yourself how lucky you were to have him in your life. You left a fresh glass of water and a packet of pain killers on the coffee table for when he woke up and then started on the more important part of your plan. A note, or perhaps a letter if it became too long, saying all the things you failed to say yesterday.

I’m so sorry.

I never intended to hurt you, but I know I really did. I’ll always be sorry for it.

I love you.

I want you. I need you.

For the rest of my life, I’ll be yours.

This family we’re building, growing, together means everything to me.

I want it more than anything, and I want it with you. Only you.

That’s a promise.

I want to marry you, I want to be your wife. That has never changed and never will.

But my priorities have.

I don’t know if I can call myself a mother just yet, but I feel protective of our future already. I have to put it first, even if it means cancelling the plans we’d just made to celebrate our love. I can’t do that when I’m 9 months pregnant. I can’t handle the stress of both. I know it’s selfish, and I’m being weak and vein, and probably a perfectionist too. But that’s just who I am.

It doesn’t mean I don’t want to marry you, ever. It just means maybe not right now.

Life threw us the most beautiful, precious curveball. I want to prioritise it and protect it. For us.

Because I love you. Eternally.

Xxxxx It didn’t feel like enough, but it was a start. You folded the piece of paper in half and drew a quick heart on the top before propping it up against the glass of water. Taron still hadn’t moved an inch. It would take a bit of time and space for him to get to the right headspace to read it, take it in and then hopefully give you the time of day to talk it out properly so you pulled on your trainers, grabbed your jacket and slid out the front door as quietly as you could.

[ex1stenc3]

Phantasialand gang

Since I’m going to Phantasialand in July (Cologne in general,Cologne cathedral my beloved <3) as a birthday present (YIPPEE) I decided to humanize some of the rides

Funny how they are like, all serious…and then there is F.L.Y