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jakegooglyeyes · 11 months

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Emblem of Roses - 5

Hi, everyone, sorry for the radio silence. I have been dealing with a lot of issues in my life, with both my health and my job. I'm doing better now, so don't worry. I'll try to keep Emblem of Roses updated more regularly from now on. Thank you for everyone's support and patience. Your asks and messages meant a lot to me and they really pulled me through a tough time.

Special thanks to @gyllenhaalstories for countless encouragement and beautiful wishes.

Pairings: Jake Gyllenhaal x reader, Maggie Gyllenhaal x reader (Medieval AU)

Summary: You were content with your quiet life as an illegitimate daughter of the King, hanging out with the maids and learning your craft. All that ended when your father married you to Lord Gyllenhaal, the Usurper, as a peace offering and a hostage.

Word count: 5,400

Warnings: 18+ MINOR DNI , RPF, DUBCON, angst, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, hate to pining, polyamory, slow burn with smut, political marriage, mean!Jake to pining!Jake, cunning!Maggie, kind!reader.

*** Your online experience is your responsibility. You have been warned. If any of these content upsets you, DO NOT READ!!! ***

Divider credit: @/firefly-graphics

"Who are you?"

Lady Maggie's voice turns cold and distant. An immense presence you have never felt corners you like a helpless animal. Your feet grow heavy as though they are chained to the ground. Thousands of thoughts race through your head as you contemplate how to respond to ensure your head will remain on your shoulders. Ultimately, there is no other way but to speak the truth.

"I am the bastard daughter of the King." You try to still yourself, preventing the cracking in your voice.

Relief. In a split moment, that is all you feel, relieved that you no longer have to carry the burden of a lie. You tell them your given name, at which the Lady doesn't seem surprised, leaving you to wonder how much she has learned about you. And for how long.

"It is never my intention to deceive you. The King ordered me to marry Lord Gyllenhaal in the princess' stead. I was not given a choice, my Lord, my Lady." You attempt to look at the Lady in the eyes but quickly avert your gaze.

Lady Maggie eyes you like a hawk, searching for any sign of deception. You don't even want to know what kind of expression is on the Lord's face right now. The silence suffocates you like tangling vines. You hang your head low, making yourself appear as humble as possible. Now, you have said all that you can. Only Gods know if the Lord and Lady Gyllenhaal believe you. If they do not find your answer satisfactory, well, you fear your fate has been sealed.

"And you have no nefarious intentions? Another order by the King, perhaps." The Lady asks, her voice calm but grim. The cold glint of the dagger and the King's command flash through your head. There was indeed another order. One you would never have the courage to obey.

"Never, my Lady. I swear on my life that I never had a single ill intention." You reply, struggling to keep your voice from shaking. Your ears are ringing from the dread so much that you cannot even hear yourself speaking, only your thundering heartbeat. What you said is not a lie. You have no intention of taking anyone's life. You can only hope your nervousness doesn't make you seem guilty.

"No? So you are not spying on us?" The Lady's eyes gleam as she looks upon you with a mocking expression. Or it could have been her disappointment, not that you can discern what she thinks. "Well, I wonder why the Lord's little wife has been dressing as a servant and running all over the place."

As you hear the Lady's inquiry, you feel the life force being sucked out of your limbs. Blood is drained from your knuckles as you tighten your grip on the fabric of your dress. Being cast aside by the Lord has made you careless. You have guessed that the Lady knew all about your activities but were too foolish to realize how incriminating they were.

"What is the meaning of this?" The Lord frowns. It's not just you who are caught off guard. He is also stunned by Lady Maggie's revelation.

"Oh, my dear brother. You truly ought to spend more time with your wife." The Lady's tone is nonchalant, with a drop of sarcasm pointing toward her brother. She is not entirely pleased that her brother sees you as her responsibility.

"Who gave you permission to act freely within our premises?" The Lord demands an answer. His sharp tone and piercing gaze reveal his apparent distrust toward you, making you almost jump from your chair. "Speak!"

"I... I was merely trying to be useful during my presence here. I swear my motives are without malice." Another attempt to diffuse the Lord's hostility seems to be in vain.

In a brief moment, your eyes met with his. The creases between his brows remind you of the first time you saw him. It is the same hatred he always has for the royal family. The Lord's hand never leaves the dagger by his side. And you know, just one wrong word could cost you your insignificant little life.

"Do you truly expect us to believe the words of someone sent here by the King? How can we trust that you are not here to do his bidding?" The Lord questions your pleas. The idea of letting a spy run amok inside these walls makes him regret not being able to just sever your head right now and end all doubts. A quick swing of his blade for peace of mind? It is very tempting.

Ever the diplomat, Lady Maggie interferes after sensing the Lord's mounting thirst for blood. Her hand raises with grace in a gesture of restraint. "Rest assured, my Lord. My people have kept a watchful eye on her since her arrival. The girl can do no harm... even if she wants to."

You are somewhat thankful for Lady Maggie's intervention. Even if the Lady's scorn is carefully concealed in her sophistication, at the very least, she is more level-headed than her brother. However, it makes you wonder why she didn't deal with you or inform her brother sooner. Why force you to face him now?

You open your mouth, wanting to say something, but soon are cut off.

"Before you say anything, I wish to remind you that lying will not benefit you nor us." Lady Maggie raises her hand to shush you.

As you wonder about the Lady's implication, a steady footstep draws everyone's attention. The steward comes carrying something in her hand. The middle-aged woman leers at you before approaching her mistress, presenting Lady Maggie with the objects she has brought. The Lady nods in acknowledgment before dismissing her loyal servant.

You freeze in place, and your heart cannot stop drumming as you notice the familiar roll in the Lady's hand. You recognize the yellow hue of the parchment, the dry ink, and your very own unfinished sentences.

Your body is quicker than your brain as your composure crumbles, lunging forward, trying to take the letter from the Lady's hand. An act you greatly regret as soon as a tremendous force blocks your airway. You only have enough time to cast your fearful gaze over the Lord, who is closing his fingers around your throat with the intent to kill.

"I wonder who this 'mother' could be. I am quite flattered you speak so highly of our House, princess."

Lady Maggie's slender fingers brush across the material, unbothered by your predicament. Her casual remarks obscure the threats bubbling underneath a peaceful facade. You struggle to draw a breath, starting to feel light-headed as you try to claw at the grip on your neck. Even as your chest burns and your vision blurs, your eyes fixate on the parchment as you mouth the phrase "give it back."

As suddenly as it has started, the chokehold is gone. The Lord huffs with disapproval. His fingers loosen after his sister's discreet hand gesture. You fall on the ground, choking on your own spit as your body becomes greedy for fresh air. Your hand reaches out for the letter as if it were a lifeline. In a delirious state, you can only make out the embroidered hem of the Lady's dress. The patterns swirl in front of your eyes, digging out old memories you thought you had forgotten. In a dreamlike trance, you crawl to the Lady's feet, the cold stone floor beneath reminiscent of another time.

You are back at the King's castle once more. A long time ago. Before Mother was there. Before you could fight back. Tiny hands and bare feet, riddled with blisters and scabs. Groveling at someone's shoes, pleading for them to give you little food scraps. You no longer know what you are begging for, only an echoing desperation to protect your little peace.

Lady Maggie's demeanor shifts. Her feigning smile disappears as she looks down at you. While she has anticipated a response, the depth of your emotional upheaval catches even a seasoned strategist like her off guard, though she swiftly conceals her surprise. A delicate touch brushes under your chin. Lady Maggie lifts your face with deceptive grace.

"Now, care to enlighten us about the intended recipient of this letter?"

The coolness of her fingers brings you back to the present. Something in your head is gnawing at you, warning you to keep your secret. You do not understand. It should not matter whether you tell the Lady about your mother. And yet, you cannot help but feel a sense of dread, as if you were curling up, fearing you would be disemboweled by a great bear.

"I... it's... it's no concern of yours." You catch yourself stammering.

The Lady's smile widens, seemingly unoffended by your refusal to cooperate. "Oh, but I am genuinely curious. I did not mean to frighten you, my dear. It's my duty to know more about those under my care, after all."

As you hesitate, the Lord, who has been observing silently, interjects, "Get to the point! What are you trying to hide?"

The Lady shoots him a glance, a mix of annoyance and amusement dancing in her eyes. Ignoring her brother's impatience, she refocuses on you. "I promise, no harm intended. Just a little explanation to satisfy my curiosity."

You finally relent under the pressure.

"She's just an old healer, my Lady. She took me in and treated me like her own flesh and blood. I only write to ease her mind about my well-being."

The Lady shoots you an inquisitive eye that you cannot decipher. "Ah, the blood of the covenant is always thicker, is it not. I can only surmise your father wasn't particularly benevolent toward an illegitimate child."

You lower your gaze in response, your silence serving as a confirmation of the Lady's assumption. As she speaks, the Lord notices a rare glimmer of empathy in his sister's eyes. Well, even he pities you a little, not for whatever misery you went through but for the road you are being led down by his sister. He knows her well, and he understands her convoluted games even better. She pokes and prods until she uncovers people's weaknesses, then uses them to either control or break those who cross her path. But her showing guileless compassion? This is an unfamiliar territory even for him.

The silence lingers until a sudden knock echoes through the door, with the steward's voice soon following suit, announcing the arrival of the royal delegates. The Lord grimaces, a flicker of frustration crossing his features as he is not amused by the abrupt conclusion. He exchanges a secretive look with his sister before shifting his focus to you.

Lady Maggie nods at her brother, who maintains his ever-present frown. "Please escort your Lady to the Great Hall, my Lord. Let's not make our prestigious guests wait. I will join you later." Then, she turns to face you. Her words carry an unwavering seriousness, no pleasantries, no pretense.

"We'll resume this conversation when the timing is more fitting. However, bear in mind that whatever you were before, right now, you are Lord Gyllenhaal's wife. And every step you take will be subjected to scrutiny."

Your head lowers as you can only muster a quiet "Yes, my Lady" before the steward enters the chamber to help you back up on your feet. The Lady orders the woman to aid you in fixing your appearance into a more presentable state. Afterward, the steward leads you to the Lord, who awaits you in the hallway, seemingly lost in contemplation.

A swift glance is all he affords you before turning on his heel and taking long strides toward the Great Hall. That is your cue to follow. You make your best effort to keep up with the Lord's unforgiving pace but deliberately trail a few steps behind him, mindful not to stay too close. For whatever it's worth, you are grateful that he stays silent throughout the trip. His thoughts remain unknown to you while you take the time to admire the impressive breadth of his shoulders and his steadfast posture, reminiscent of a warrior marching to the battlefield.

On the way, you notice quite an unusual presence of heavily armed guards, roses insignia carved into their armor plates. The air is stagnant, and the festive mood of the previous days is replaced by caution. As the Lord and you approach the towering double doors of the Great Hall, your pulse quickens with the palpable uneasiness permeating the stone walls.

"Raise your head." A voice, as measured as it is unexpected, cuts through the silence. The Lord's command disrupts your thoughts, momentarily catching you off guard. It is the first time he has ever addressed you in such a manner, devoid of either contempt or revulsion. Instead, it reminds you of the words Lady Maggie told you last night.

Do not let anyone think that House Gyllenhaal is to be trifled with.

You are a lady of the House.

The Lord and Lady are indeed kin, you observe. They are different from each other in every way, and yet, at times, they are almost the same person.

As the heavy doors swing open and the servant loudly announces the Lord and his wife's arrival, you step into the grand chamber where the esteemed guests are waiting. Your eyes lock onto the royal delegates seated at the long table, their opulent attire embroidered in gold threads, contrasting the austere clothes worn by House Gyllenhaal's people. Two sides greet each other with false flattery, an intricate interplay of feigned courtesy and veiled intent.

The Lord leads you to the front, reserved for the heads of the family. His presence makes heads turn, though you can tell many of those gazes fall on you. This is only the second time you walk next to him as his wedded wife. You focus, keeping your posture poised and expression composed, trying to mirror the image he presents to his people and guests.

The delegates, sent by the King, rise from their seats and bow to the Lord in an exaggerated display of etiquette. Honeyed words drip from their lips, laden with poisonous insincerity. The Lord reciprocates with polite nods and faint smiles. You are somewhat surprised to see this stone wall of a man can be such a diplomat. Now that you think about it, he used to be a respected general in the King's court before the rebellion. He must have been no stranger to court intrigues.

Among the delegates, you catch the subtlest of glances, fleeting stares that linger for a heartbeat too long. You don't recognize anyone, but you have no doubt that a few of these nobles know your true identity as the King's bastard, a pathetic replacement for the real princess. Some of them can't even hide the condescension on their face. Even as they address you with the princess title, a trace of mockery flickers in their eyes.

"Your Highness, rest assured that we shall bring the news of your well-being to your father, the King. The magnificence of Goldenhall undoubtedly befits your greatness." One of the delegates gives praise, a middle-aged man whose smile, though broad, carries an underlying tone of sarcasm towards both you and House Gyllenhaal.

You hold your head high. Compared to the things you've heard, this is next to nothing compared to the spiteful words you heard. You reply with humility and ambiguity, avoiding saying too much as you have never had to participate in diplomatic affairs. It feels surreal to stand here on the same footing as the people who see your whole existence as a disgrace. Within these walls, they will not be so foolish to bare their fangs at you. You do not want to admit it, but you feel almost invulnerable with the Lord by your side, as strange as the idea is.

"Indeed, my wife is doing well. We are not the treacherous monsters who imprison and torture the guests coming into their homes." The Lord sneers with an edge to his voice, his words masking a touch of disgust. A wry smile appears as he raises his cup toward the delegate. The man returns the Lord's gesture with the same broad smile.

Before long, the musicians begin to play their songs, signaling that the feast has started. You finally get to see with your own eyes how the Lord and his people enjoy the festivity. Unlike the servants, whose idea of celebration is basically an abundance of food and drink, for the nobles, it involves people presenting their gifts and good wishes to the Lord's family. That, and the endless praises being thrown back and forth.

The whole event is exhausting. Your face and neck go stiff after having to smile and nod every other second. Even the Lord himself appears to be weary of the constant pleasantries. With the royal delegates' presence, he cannot allow himself to be reckless for even just a moment. One can tell Lady Maggie is definitely the more adept navigator of these delicate interactions.

Nonetheless, seeing how the Lord puts on such a courteous mask is very eye-opening. He appears to be much less threatening than he was during your wedding, that, or the wedding was much more miserable for him than practically anything else.

An old couple whose clothes are embellished with House Gyllenhaal symbols approaches, bearing a modest wooden box. With respect, they place the container before you, emitting a subtle fragrance of herbs. Inside the box are three rare flowers that exclusively grow far up north. The plants immediately pique your interest as you have only ever seen drawings in your mother's book.

"Milady, we hope you accept our humble offering. May you soon be blessed with the Lord's sweet fruit." The elderly woman speaks, her smile radiating warmth and kindness.

"Allow this old man to offer a piece of wisdom." Her husband, who seems to have had one too many drinks, turns to the Lord. "Children are important, yes, and hardly any pleasure in life can beat a woman's embrace. But please do not exert your wife. For the soil must be well tilted before the seeds can thrive." After his slight jest, the man holds his drink up to the Lord, provoking a chorus of laughter among the guests and a scolding from his elderly wife.

The words of the wife and husband send warmth surging to your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and discomfort. Surprisingly, the Lord appears unbothered, raising his cup to thank the couple for the gift. Instead, he leans over to you with his elbow on the armrest and his face resting lazily on his hand.

"My sister's handy work," He murmurs, his voice a hushed undertone meant only for your ears. You cast a quizzical glance in his direction, perplexed by his unexpected initiation of casual conversation. "I do not know what tall tales she has spun about you, but it seems to give the elders strange ideas," the Lord elaborates. "Whatever puts our elders at ease."

You don't know what to say, nor do you think the Lord wants your input. You have undoubtedly noticed a subtle shift in how you are regarded by House Gyllenhaal. Their caution around you still lingers, yet hatred has given way to a more neutral stance. You even receive the occasion curtsy from the lower-ranked members of the House.

The light of day in the winter is fleeting. Soon, the Hall begins to bask in the fuchsia hues of dusk. With a polite request, you ask permission to leave the chamber for fresh air, earning a nonchalant dismissive wave from the Lord.

As the chattering of the guests is left behind you, a moment of respite envelops your body and mind. In the crispness of the outside air, you finally find solace, and the pent-up breath you have been holding is released in a gentle exhale.

Without a destination in mind, you wander through the courtyard, feeling the chilling night air seeping through your clothes. In your solitude, your mind wrestles with your current situation. You have not forgotten the King's order to assassinate the Lord nor the threat hanging above your mother's life. But you have never had the gut or heart to commit such an act. You have no intention of taking anyone's life. And even if you did, getting the chance to do so would be an entirely different problem.

The mere thought of obeying the King's command sends shivers down your spine. The memories of your miserable life are hard to ignore. You want nothing but to stay far from this power struggle between House Gyllenhaal and the King, and to live your life in peace. But you understand with your circumstances right now, it is a luxury you know you cannot afford.

The letter is still in Lady Maggie's possession. Neither she nor her brother are going to simply trust your words. Your life under the King was pathetic, but people treated you with disregard, allowing you to just disappear. Here? You are, at best, a useless captive and, at worst, a threat. The only silver lining is when you are not playing the unwilling role of a princess, your life here is fine, good even.

A daring idea flashes through your mind. One doesn't have to be well-versed in politics to know that the peace between the King and House Gyllenhaal is incredibly fragile. This uneasy balance can shatter at any moment. When things come to that, you need to find a stable ground to stand on, and you know you will never achieve that by the King's side. Not that there was ever a place for you. If, and this is a big if, you are able to secure favor with House Gyllenhaal, it could guarantee your safety here and dispel a little bit of their ill will against you. Such an endeavor might improve your situation considerably. And then, maybe, just maybe, you can find a way to bring your mother here with you.

The problem? It's one thing to put on the servant's garb and duck your head to avoid being seen. It's another thing to actively support the King's enemy. Your sense of self-preservation keeps tugging at your soul. What terrible fate awaits you and your mother were the Gyllenhaal to fail? At times like this, you wish the old healer were here to tell you the right thing to do.

The biting cold reminds you that you must return to the feast soon. At least there is a large fire in there, you tell yourself. Looking around, you find yourself having wandered to the servants' quarter. The guards are spread thin in this part, and most servants are busy tending to the guests. You cup your hands over your mouth to warm them up before making your way back, not noticing a group of people wearing the King's symbols approaching.

"You are late, lady Maggie."

The Lord snorts, displaying his displeasure of being left alone fending against these diplomats. Lady Maggie lets out a hearty laugh, apologizing to the guests with a socially acceptable excuse. She then takes the seat beside the Lord, positioned opposite your now vacant chair. The Lord leans closer to his sister as the music and revelry shield their conversation from prying ears.

"What is it that you're scheming, sister?" The Lord inquires.

"Ah, is this about the girl?" The Lady lifts the cup to her lips, musing at her brother's annoyance. She takes a small sip, allowing the aromatic liquid to warm her from the inside. "Have you frightened her off, my Lord?"

The Lord scoffs at his sister's evasion of his question. "I am curious as to why you seem to take pity on her? Has House Gyllenhaal's ruthless strategist suddenly grown a conscience?"

The Lord expects his sister to retort with her usual witty remarks, but they are nowhere to be found. Instead, she falls into silence, pondering ideas only she herself knows of. After taking another sip of her drink, the Lady speaks in a soft voice while watching her distorted reflection within the ripples of the wine.

"Brother, I have been wondering. Would it not be easier to throw away something you do not want?" The Lady doesn't look up from her drink. She speaks as if to herself.

The Lord knows full well that she is speaking of you. He has not really given much thought about you unless he has to. However, his sister's question gives him pause. That's right. It should have been far simpler for the King to consign you to a family of peasants or abandon you in the forest. Why did he keep an illegitimate daughter all these years?

He glances at his sister, who is exchanging courtesies with several guests. He has so many questions but this place is not suitable for them. Well, he suspects Lady Maggie has already sent out her little ravens searching for information. This is not his domain to worry about, anyway. He never doubted his sister. When has she ever led him astray?

After all the ordeals you have gone through today, the last face you want to see is the one standing before you. You recognize this woman - the Head Maid from the King's castle, undoubtedly bringing back many unsavory memories.

"Oh my, isn't this our princess? Thriving, I see, unlike us humble servants." She stands at the forefront of a dozen servants brought here to serve the needs of the delegates, effectively blocking your path. You haven't seen them with their masters as they are not allowed in the Great Hall.

Wishing to avoid confrontation, you maintain a stoic expression, refusing to acknowledge her jibe, and press on, determined to walk past the group. However, a vicious force yanks on your arm, almost making you lose your balance. You glare at the Head Maid's chilling face. It reminds you of the past when her authority and cruelty loomed over you like a shadow.

"Why the rush, princess? Forgot your manners?" She sneers. The mockery in her voice sounds unpleasantly familiar.

Resisting the urge to retaliate and risk tarnishing the image of the Lord, you fume in silence, baffled by her audacity to assert power over you even beyond the castle walls. You are no longer the lowly bastard subjected to her whims.

You wince as she pinches your arm, something she often used to do any time she believed you were out of line, which is every time. As you attempt to push her away, a sinister grin twists the Head Maid's features as she deliberately invokes your mother's name.

"Well, well, princess. Perhaps you've forgotten the lessons I taught you." Her words are full of malicious intent, and her fingers dig into your arm like a crab's pincers. "I may be unable to teach you another lesson here, but mark my words. If you don't learn to behave, your mother will pay the price for your insolence."

Like a spark to dry hay, the threat ignites a torrent of anger within you. The frustrations of the day, the weight of your struggles, and the danger your mother has to face because of you all converge into an explosive outburst. You can no longer contain the seething rage that boils in your blood. Everyone wants something. You just want to be left alone.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you push the Head Maid away with a force that sends her tumbling into a freezing puddle. The unexpected defiance leaves the other servants stunned with disbelief. Clearly, the Head Maid's distasteful tales of your supposed powerlessness have given them the idea that you are underneath, and they never anticipated such resistance.

Some of them rush to help the sputtering woman up from the icy water, while others cautiously encircle you, uncertain what they should do. They look at each other with hesitation, for this place is not their territory, and your status is not exactly their equal.

"Make the bitch pay!" The Head Maid, shrieking at the other servants, declares that you must pay for your transgressions. The notion that even within the Gyllenhaal's fortress, the King's authority still holds sway takes root among royal servants. Tentatively, one of them reaches out to subdue you just as the guards arrive, alerted by the escalating commotion. However, they are not the only ones to have come.

The guards soon part to make the way for the Lord and the head of the delegates. You don't know how much of the unruly display the Lord has seen, but he has a look on his face you can only describe as "heads will roll tonight." You look down, fumbling with your dress, unsure what will befall you now.

The Head Maid, soaked and enraged, scurries to the delegate, seizing the opportunity to blame the altercation on you. She launches into a mad tirade, claiming the incident was an unprovoked attack when she was simply trying to greet you. A knot of anxiety tightens inside you as you can only stand there, unable to meet the Lord's gaze, grappling with the fear that your actions may have brought shame upon him.

"Come here." The Lord's voice cut through the wailing. Indeed, he sounds angry, but the anger is not directed at you. Furthermore, there is an underlying assurance in his words that steadies your racing heart. The chaos seems to recede as you approach him. His presence should be apprehensive but now oddly comforting.

"Tell me what happened?" He offers you a chance to defend your name, a gesture you did not expect. The residual rage clears your head, and the threat the Head Maid had made about your mother still rings fresh in your mind.

Rolling up your sleeves, you reveal the vivid red marks inflicted by the Head Maid, some even breaking the skin. "This woman attacked and threatened me. I had no choice but to defend myself,"

The Lord's brows knit together as he examines your injury. It seems his sister was right about your miserable life at the castle. He turns to the delegate, his voice grim. "Handle your people swiftly, or I'll deal with the perpetrator myself. I assure you, you will not like my methods."

Sensing the gravity of the situation, the delegate acts decisively. The delegate detests House Gyllenhaal, but he is not keen on upsetting them, at least not for the sake of a mere servant. The Head Maid's eyes widen at the turning tides. She opens her mouth to spew more of her venom but is immediately cut short with a resounding slap that almost causes her to fall again.

"Beg for the Lady's forgiveness, NOW!" The middle-aged nobleman orders.

The woman is flabbergasted. It finally clicks in her head that her master will not be on her side. The Head Maid reluctantly takes a step forward and bends her knees. Her usual arrogance crumbles, replaced by a forced submission. With a hesitating voice, she never imagined she would have to say to you, unwillingness evident in every syllable.

"I... I apologize, my Lady. I beg you to forgive my impudence." She mumbles insincere words.

"I want you gone." The words escape your mouth before you can rein them in. The metallic sound of a sword being unsheathed echoes, accompanied by the Head Maid's fearful cry. The Lord has drawn his sword and is aiming for the woman's neck. Realizing your sentence has been taken the wrong way, you catch the Lord's hand to prevent any more escalation.

"I... I mean, I want her out of my sight. I want her to leave the Keep." Desperation colors your voice as you tightly cling to the Lord's arm. He exhales sharply before sheathing his weapon in disappointment. The delegates had given him the urge to spill blood the whole evening, and he was really looking for an excuse, any excuse.

"I'll make sure this maid departs before dawn." The delegate rubs his hands together, relieved that this matter is finally resolved.

"Before midnight." The Lord commands.

One of Lady Maggie's servants comes forward, bringing a cape made of soft fur, and hands it to the Lord. He accepts the cape and drapes it over your shoulders, shielding you against the lingering chill. Of course, he completely ignores your sheer bewilderment. The unexpected gesture and the weight of the fur leave you awestruck.

"Return to your chamber. I'll have the physician look at your arm." The Lord instructs you. You are still so speechless that you can only nod. He then turns to the delegate and his servants, issuing a warning to those who even think about overstepping their boundaries.

"The moment she crosses those gates, she is no longer a princess or whatever she once was. She belongs to House Gyllenhaal and is under my protection. Tell your people to remember that."

Tag List:

@looloolily

@boydhoebrook

#jake gyllenhaal x reader #maggie gyllenhaal x reader #fic: emblem of roses #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #maggie gyllenhaal fanfic #nat writes #fics #cw: rpf

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rnebbie · 3 years

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Connected

Jake gyllenhaal x teen!Reader, jake gyllenhaal x costar!reader

Warnings: anxiety & unhealthy coping mechanisms ig??

(A/n): lolz so this was originally a request I was writing and then after I finished writing it I read the request one more time before posting it and realized it’s nothing like the request wanted LMFAOO so I cried and then I was like I’m not just gonna waste this. So if this seems similar but not identical to ur request I’ll write ur request soon but actually follow it correctly!!!!! Don’t worry <3

You kept your struggles with anxiety quiet, trying to keep it on the down low. And honestly, you’d done a pretty good job. A lot of people didn’t even know about it. But maybe that was your first mistake.

It was aggressive, and ruthless. It had no regard for your everyday life and it was hell trying to manage it, especially at such a young age. Jake didn’t even know about it for the longest time.

One day when the two of you had finished filming earlier than expected, he asked if you’d wanted to go to lunch. But you freaked out just at the idea. He said he made reservations for a very open and crowded and popular restaurant and that screamed absolutely terrifying to you. He was confused at why you were so upset, and you had to explain yourself to him.

“Have you heard of this place? 5 star reviews! There’s literally a waiting list, I may have had to use our names and fame to get us a reservation, but it worked and it’s in thirty minutes! Just be prepared for attention, and most likely paparazzi.”

He didn’t understand why you started stuttering, hyperventilating, and crying. And honestly you didn’t really either. It was just a buildup of anxiety that you’d been holding in for too long, and you were tired of hiding it. You hated how that was the way he found out about your anxiety, though.

Jake felt terrible for not knowing, and springing such an uncomfortable situation onto you. And you felt terrible ruining Jake's plans. You were both left feeling terrible, but in your defense, you always felt terrible about something in the back of your mind.

Jake always had a suspicion about your anxiety. You were always painting your nails over and over whenever you had free time, because you wanted to appear put together. But everytime he looked at you you would be biting it off. Just to repeat the vicious cycle.

And you'd be watching someone else do a scene on set, or listening to what other people had to say, whenever you thought you were in the clear and no one was looking, you’d slap a strategically placed hair tie against your wrist.

And almost inevitably, wherever you were, you would be tapping your foot, up and down, all the time. Constantly. To the point where it sometimes annoyed jake.

But recently, you felt like your anxiety was getting better. You were doing good. You didn’t really take your meds anymore, and you lived much more in the moment, and took better care of yourself.

You had a few months off, since filming was over. Because recently the film you and Jake were in had been released. And today was the first day of the press tour. The first interview you’d done in a very long time, but you felt like you had it in the bag.

You met up with Jake again a few days ago, to make sure the spark in your friendship was still there before going back in front of the screens, and to the public. Of course, it remained. And you were very happy to be with Jake again. You were good friends.

He asked how everything was going, and you assured him you were better. You told him all the ways you were improving and he was happy for you, though, still a little worried.

He was more worried than you were, and for a good reason. Because you didn’t even really feel anything coming on, no intense emotions. But that’s usually how it went, coming out of the blue.

The entire morning while you were riding in the taxi to where the interviews were being held, Jake kept asking you if you felt alright.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Do you need anything? Some water?”

“Y/n, how do you feel?”

“You alright?”

“See, there was slight hesitation.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“We don’t have to do this, you know. Let’s just call it off, hey! Can we call it off? It’s me, it’s my stomach.”

It was annoying you a tremendous amount.

“Jake, please stop. I’ve assured you a hundred times, I’m doing just fine. Alright? I can manage. And if I start to feel… not fine, then I’ll still manage. I’ll find a way.” You say, getting fed up.

Jake nods slowly, and turns his head.

And you really were feeling fine! You don’t know where it came from. But once you saw the large crowd of fans waiting outside this building you were supposed to go in, you completely were back to being not fine. You turned back into the kid who had no idea how to deal with their anxiety, and you realized you only got better because you didn’t need to handle your triggers anymore. That was an irresponsible decision on your part.

The most stubborn part of you refused to show any sort of vulnerability to Jake at that moment, and as he looked at you, he could tell something was wrong. He almost asked if you were alright, but he didn’t want to be told off again. So he just smiled at you.

You hesitantly smiled back, and nodded. Reassuring his unspoken question for you. Silently screaming, ‘oh my god Jake, I’m alright.’ Even though you really weren’t feeling all that hot.

Once the taxi is parked, Jake opens his door and leaves the taxi. You pause for a moment before working the courage up to open your door. You breathe a few long breaths before reaching for your door handle.

You reach, but nothing happens. “Nope.” You whisper, and your hands fall to your lap, before gripping your head with both your hands. “Shit.” You say, slightly more loud than your last complaint.

At this point, Jake has walked over to your side of the car, waiting for you to exit. After a little too long, he leans down to the window to check and see what you’re doing, and you’re avoiding looking at, or being seen by the group of people. You’re rubbing your sweaty hands on your thighs and leaning back and forth. He opens the door, and pushes you to the opposite side of the taxi that he was just sitting on.

“Y/n what’s wrong, kid? C’mon, talk to me.” He grabs your arms, trying to get you to look at him.

“Hey, we’re sitting in each other’s seats.” You try to hide the fact that he was right about you not being okay, and you wonder how he knew before you did.

Jake stares at you, dumbfounded. “I’m aware, dummy. What’s wrong with you?” He responded.

“I’m fine, it’s fine, jake.” You assure him, trying to brush it off. “Yeah but you're obviously not, though.” He doesn’t buy a single second of it, because he’s not an idiot.

You shake your head and wish you could just shake off the anxiety and be like Jake. You wish you could be as carefree and cool as he is right now. You wish you were dealt a better hand in which you were able to deal with everyday situations.

“I was getting better,” you shake your head, “I was getting better, jake. Everytime I feel like it’s getting better, it just hits me all over again.” Tears immediately start to cloud your vision and you throw your hand to your face to wipe your eyes.

Jake hurts for you. He wishes he could understand every aspect of your hurt and figure out how to help you in the exact way that you need, but he knows that the best healing you could experience is within yourself. And that’s what he tells you.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry. I know it’s hard, and you’re gonna trip a ton of times before you get to the finish line. But those trips are gonna be minuscule to you after you’re out. But I believe you’re strong enough to do it. And I can help you as best I can, even though I don’t understand everything you feel. I can try.”

You try to compose your tears, you nod in response to Jake's reassuring speech. “It’s just a group of teenagers, and they like us. I’ll be with you every step of the way. We can make it through this.” He promises you.

You sniffle and look up, before leaning over to hug Jake. “Thank you.” You muffle into his shirt. He chuckles, you’re welcome, weirdo.”

After you pull away, he reaches for his door handle, but you grab his arm, to get his attention. “How did you know something was up before I did?”

“I guess I just know you better than you know yourself,” he leans closer to you, “we’re connected.” He whispers. The two of you burst into laughter. “Yeah, right.” You laugh. Then you make your way to the group of fans, and they’re not as bad as you originally thought.

…

Taglist: @ohworm-writes ( lmk if u wanna be added to my taglist :)

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rachaelswrites · 3 years

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Gyllenhaal!reader Moodboard

#x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #x child reader #jake gyllenhaal x teen #jake gyllenhaal x teen!reader #jake gyllenhaal x daughter!reader #jake gyllenhaal x daughter #jake gyllenhaal

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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

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The Stolen Moments: Chapter 3 - Confidence

A/N & WC - I do not know Tom, Jake or Ryan, nor do I claim to. This is a work of fiction. Series masterlist. 5k words.

Warnings - very angsty towards the end, Ryan Reynolds being Ryan, allusions to slutshaming and assault, talk of loss of a family member and Jake's films prisoner & southpaw.

Summary - Your date with Tom is fast approaching, you turn to your dad for some fatherly advice, and his friends for some better advice, considering your dad's crisis over your first date. Will your confidence carry you through your anxieties?

“Dad, can you help me choose an outfit?”

“Course I can sugarplum, just, why?”

His words die out with a faint trail and are followed by senseless mutterings about what’s on the telly. She sighs, completely exasperated, her robe wrapped incessantly tight around her body as she thunders her footsteps around the house until she reaches the living room. He’s got a game on, a glass of water gripped tightly in his fist and bound to go all over the floor in three… two… one…

“COME ON!” he screams.

Thankfully, only a drop or two falls to the floor, the rest of it spills onto Boo Radley, prompting Jake to discard his drink and leap up from the sofa, instantly seeking out his pupper, scooping him up and cooing apologies amongst kisses.

“I’ve got that date tonight, I told you. Then again, you were rather drunk, so that’s my bad.”

Shrieking with excitement he flings his arms around his daughter. “My Y/N’s first date! Oh this is so exciting, I’ll help choose your outfit right now.”

Jake doesn’t leave games for anything, especially not in such a sprightly manner, so when he turns the TV off and practically bounces into her room, she can't help but feel special. Maybe telling him it’s Tom right now wouldn’t be such an awful thing.

“First... who, where, when, why? And are they a he or a she... or a they?”

“He is someone you don’t need to worry about, he’s just taking me out to dinner at some Italian place on Greenwich, and I told him to meet me there at seven.”

“Why isn’t he collecting you?”

“What do you think?” She glares at him and gesticulates wildly all around. Not necessarily the mess of her bedroom but more just the whole… house. Awards with her dad's name on them, family photos with all the Gyllenhaals, the easily recognisable dogs, the general Jake-ness to the place, and a framed picture of him and Heath Ledger, a man who was just as much family to them as anyone she’s known. Well, all of that is the reasoning she gives Jake, cautiously omitting the fact of the matter that Tom would in fact recognise her block and her home the second he arrived outside in decent enough light due to the fact he was just here yesterday.

“And besides, who knows if we can trust him to know the secret?”

“This is how I know you’re my daughter,” he smiles warmly, “you’re really damn smart.”

“I know,” she chimes, “and I already told him the rules.”

“Good girl. Now show me those outfits.”

Having spent far too much money shopping days earlier, her closet is overrun with dresses she doesn’t need and will likely never wear. Jeans, too, and they certainly won’t be helpful tonight. She knows what Tom likes, what he wants, the sort of style he likes on a girl: hip, minimalistic (she means that in a literal sense), sleek. That isn’t her style, not at all, so it’s all about finding a happy medium.

By the end of ninety minutes, she fears her door might drop off its hinges from the amount of opening and shutting it does between outfit changes for her, none of which worked out. Mini dresses, midi skirts, blouses, crop tops, co-ords, nothing seemed to work, not even the trouser suit she’s been saving for a special occasion. Many outfits a young woman wouldn’t even dare to try on in front of her father, but Jake gives honest advice, nothing about wearing a longer skirt or telling her she’s showing too much chest. She’s always been taught that it’s her body and to do what she wants with it, wear what she wants to, act how she wants to, and should anything happen, it’s Jake’s problem, and he’ll snap them in half, a fact he willingly demonstrated the second anyone tried anything… and he swiftly put Y/N into self defense classes, so that she could take people down looking like a boss. That’s just the kind of dad he is, and he’ll never slut-shame his daughter for wanting to wear something she likes on a date.Today, his only comments are on the vibe of the outfit, on the weather and if she’ll be warm enough, whether it suits her current complexion and hair length, but with every outfit he tells her the same thing. “You look beautiful.” What sort of dad would he be if he didn’t hype up his daughter? A decisive one, that’s what, because his endless compliments do nothing to help her choose. It’s a long afternoon, and she’s soon running out of time, so Jake takes a leaf out of Tom’s book and slaps his thighs as a substitute for excusing himself, standing up, ready to leave Y/N be.

“You’ll look lovely in whatever you choose,” he declares, watching her as she turns towards him in her vanity chair, the last outfit still on her, even if the zip is now half undone. “You always do. Wear what you feel the most comfortable in, he’s stupid if he doesn’t think you’re the best girl out there. And if he hurts you tonight, tell him I’ve got a .45 and a shovel.”

“Thanks, dad,” she responds, a sad smile gracing her lips as she looks up at him through thick lashes. “And I hate to break it to you, but you need to shave, your beard just looks patchy now.”

“Hey!” he protests, “I take great pride in my facial hair.”

“Far too much. Shave it off.”

He laughs, gripping to the doorframe. “Will it get me more girls if I do?”

“I bloody hope not!” she exclaims, throwing her hairbrush at him “do it for your job, and you’ve got that alum dinner coming up that I’m burdened with too, which I shan't attend if you have that monstrosity on your face.”

“God alright, moody cow,” he eventually concedes, squealing as he slips from her room, narrowly missing the hit she puts out with her chapstick, flinging it long over her shoulder.

He shuts the door behind him and instantly begins to fret, making his way towards the dogs to sit, and hopefully not mull over his fears, as he wonders who the hell is taking his daughter out tonight.

She knows she has another hour and a half in her room if she wants to be done and ready in time, so she sits doing her makeup, carefully brushing the shadow over her eyes, adding an extra lick of mascara to her usual, dabbing some nude lipstick on, styling her hair, running a brush through the ends and her roots, smoothing it all over with her fingers. She’s just about to flick through her clothes again when a knock sounds on her door and it pushes open just a sliver.

“Someone on the house phone for you,” Jake says, holding it in his outstretched arm.

Confused, she darts her tongue out from between her lips and tucks her hair behind her ears, taking it. “Oh, that reminds me, Aunt Maggie called last night while you were out. She’s nagging me to get a boyfriend.”

“Perhaps after tonight you will! Excited?” he teases

“Yeah, a bit,” she answers, not really thinking straight, “but don’t tell uncle Ryan,” she implores, desperation evident in the puppy eyes she pulls.

“Too late! He’s on the call.”

If looks could kill, Jake would be sprawled out on the floor, so he makes a desperate break for it while he still can, his laughter following him around the house and invading Y/N’s stressed brain even after she slams the door shut. Ryan Reynolds on the phone giving her dating advice? Not the best stress reliever. In his way, he talks her ear off for twenty minutes while she goes about trying on more things, flicking through every outfit from before as well as some more, when eventually, she slips into one last dress, and it just feels right. Her favourite occasion dress, the one she’s only had the chance to wear once before but served her excellently, just as Ryan finishes his lecture about what she should wear to give off the right vibe.

“Wear something classy. But not too classy, you don’t want him to think you’re a prude, but then again, he shouldn’t be thinking about sleeping with you unless Deadpool will be on his case. Whatever you wear, you won’t look like a slut, and I trust Jakey to tell you what to wear, but don’t have it too low or too tight or too short, ok? You know what men are like nowadays, tsk, and Blake will tell you the same thing, but you should wear what you feel will suit you and the mood of the evening. Where’s he taking you? Somewhere nice? Is it in the city? Ooh, inside or outside? You should wear a jacket anyway, but only a thin one, then he’ll do the chivalrous thing and give you his blazer. Do you think he’ll wear a blazer? Ooh and what shoes are you wearing? Blake would say high heels, if you were around then she’d be sharing her shoe collection with you, but since you’re not then you have me to deal with, and I must say I recommend against thigh high leather boots because that’ll just give him the wrong vibe you know? So are you thinking dresses or a sk—”

“Will you shut up if I tell you who I’m going out with?”

“YES!” he yells, almost deafening her with the shrill excitement, even with it on speaker and halfway across the room.

“Ok, but you’re not allowed to tell dad. Promise?”

He hears the inflection in her voice but is too excited to escalate those feelings, practically bouncing off the walls, “Can I tell Blake? Can I?”

“Ye—”

“BLAKE!”

Y/N slams her finger to the volume button on the phone, desperately decreasing it as a preventative in protection of her remaining ear drums, just as Blake’s dulcet tones appear.

“Y/N is telling us who she’s going on a date with but we can’t tell Jake!” he blurts.

“Hey hon, who is it? Anyone we know?”

She takes a deep breath: in through her nose, out through her mouth. “Tom Holland.”

Jake certainly hears the repeated scream of his name coming from Ryan’s end of the line, she’s absolutely sure of it, and proceeds to face palm. He screams for another minute straight before taking a breath, she thinks, and proceeds to offer her muted sympathies to Blake, who wholeheartedly congratulates her and apologises on behalf of her husband.

“Full time occupation I presume.”

“While he’s distracted,” Blake hisses, “run. Before he gives you his safe sex talk.”

“Oh, he’s already given me that, in great detail. Sex ed, a protective dad chat, and telling me to get some all in one.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” she laughs.

“It’s fine, I mean dad hasn’t even broached the subject, and I don’t plan on sleeping with him tonight.”

“Hmm, well, those nights are always the most dangerous,” she teases, “you already know what I’ll say. Just be true to yourself, and be safe in all aspects of the evening.”

“The most beautiful thing you can wear is confidence,” they say together.

“Thank you, Blake.” She disappears on the end of the line, leaving Y/N to speak to Ryan now he’s calmed down a fraction. “Uncle Ryan? I’ve decided, I’m getting ready now, I’ll send you a picture, but I need to get ready.”

“Yes, of course, Y/N. Your dad must be so proud, you’re growing up so quickly!”

“I’m twenty,” she says in a complete monotone, her face unmoving as she searches through for a jacket, perhaps his advice wasn’t all dreadful.

“Well, good luck tonight, have fun, and wrap it up.”

“Not listening!” she shouts, “bye, love to the kids.”

And he finally hangs up, leaving her free and able to exasperate. He’s an absolute gem, a well meaning darling, always so excited for her achievements like he’s really her uncle and not just her dad’s loopy best friend. How Blake puts up with him, she’s not sure, but Blake says the same about Y/N having put up with Jake her whole life. They’re excited that it’s Tom though, approving, pleased. That’s a step, right? One of the people closest to her dad thinks she’s made a good choice in lieu of having his opinion. She really is just overthinking everything. Apart from Tom. She knows he’ll be lovely, she knows he’ll compliment her no matter what she wears, she knows he’ll be the kind soul he always is with that extra humour sprinkled in, she just hopes he doesn’t feel the same tension she does. Will their past aid and abet them tonight, or will it send everything crashing down before it’s even begun? She certainly hopes for the former, and also that the dress will bring her good luck, with the way the fabric clings to her waist and skims her hips, ending closely just below her knee, the dark material fitted to her shape just enough. The last step, ankle booties, that actually support her feet enough that, despite the heel on them, she’s unlikely to snap her bones.

A final pat down, to make sure she has all the essentials in her jacket pockets, that her hair is still ok at the roots, that her lipstick is still on, that her dress isn’t sticking up, that her perfume smells strongly enough but not too strong.

Confidence.

———

When she appears in the doorway of the living room, where Jake is sitting nervously, biting his thumbnail, with no music on and nothing on the TV, both of the dogs keeping him company, she thinks she’ll combust. There’s a pressure building inside her, rushing in her chest, images of Tom and Tom alone blurring her vision.

“Dad?” She stirs him from his reverie.

Eyes darting up at her instantly, he stands upon instinct, but it feels like the floor has been ripped from beneath him, and five Y/Ns appear, swiftly blending into one when he feels her touch on his arm.

“Dad? Are you ok?”

Tears begin to well in his eyes, clouding his vision. If his gut feeling about this date and who it's with is right then no, he’s certainly not ok at all. But gosh if he isn’t a proud as hell father right now.

“My baby’s all grown up,” he chokes out, gripping her hard. “You look beautiful, sugarplum. So beautiful.”

“Dad it’s not prom or anything,” she mumbles shyly, unable to meet his eyes.

“I know, but that douchebag you dated before didn’t do anything like this for you. It’s your first proper date. It’s monumental.”

He knows how he sounds, so overzealous, so ridiculous, but he couldn’t be prouder. She’s achieving everything, the young woman he raised from when she was the same size as a watermelon. And even better, she looks like him, she’s got the same dark hair as he does, the same piercing eyes, but she’s so damn perfect that he’s not sure how dickhead nineteen year old Jake was able to create something so brilliant, so life changing. And all she’s doing is going on a date.

“Can I take a picture of you? Just to send to Aunt Maggie and Uncle Ryan?”

She nods sheepishly, and picks his phone up off the coffee table, handing it to him carefully. Maybe Tom will react this way, she damn well hopes he does, or else what’s the point? She poses, just a normal one, offering the camera a small smile, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

“Now get a picture with Boo and Atticus, it wouldn’t be a special night if they weren’t messing up your clothes.”

Damn right, it’s like a dog’s job, but after so many years of outfits being destroyed by dog fur, Y/N doesn’t care, and picks Boo up, sitting on the arm of the sofa with Atticus on the seat by her side, paws in the air.

Jake snaps a fair few photos, airdropping them all to her phone instantly, muttering “Perfect” after each shot.

“I’ll post these to the family facebook.”

“No you won’t!”

“Try me,” he challenges, that battle worthy smirk pulling at his lips. Unsurprisingly, she dons that same expression.

He knows she doesn’t have time, though, and tucks his phone away, removing Boo from her body, and by doing so, giving her a chance to brush the worst of the fur off her before her departure. He can see it in her eyes that she’s thinking about him, about the date, anxious it’ll go wrong. And if he’s learnt anything throughout his years of dating (many relationships of which have ended in headlines of the utmost hilarity and incredibly good breakup songs written about him) it’s that a nervous person doesn’t need to be reminded that they’re nervous, or told to just be themselves. Y/N knows to just be herself, it's all he’s ever taught her, to be unapologetically who she is and to stay safe. She’ll do brilliantly. It’s the boy he’s more concerned about, and that’s somewhere in those worry-misted eyes of hers too, hidden beneath her nervous muscle clenches. She wasn’t this nervous on her first day of Columbia (which he accompanied her on, what parent wouldn’t?) and he was proud of her on that day, posting about it on the family facebook wall.

“Are you sure he's a good guy? You like him?”

Her chest visibly deflates in relief, happiness tugging at every angle of her face as she fights off a smile. That’s answer enough for him right now. “I do, dad, he makes me feel all tingly and nice, and he flatters the hell outta me. I feel like you’d like him too, he’s a proper gentleman and I’m sure he’ll be real good to me. He’s rich too, and young.”

“As long as he treats you well. Go out there and have some fun, but if there’s a second date, I expect to meet him first.”

“Ok, dad,” she answers as she fixes her earrings in the hallway mirror.

The growing tension between him is something he doesn’t like but at the same time, can’t fight. If he is to meet this person, something he’s undecided on, he needs to know the basics. “Just to be absolutely sure he is a dude? I don’t want to accidentally meet him tonight and get pronouns wrong.”

“Dad, he’s a man, a straight white man.”

“Okay darling, I just don’t want you to think I’m forcing you to only date one gender, I’m open you see?” He opens his arms to mirror his words, a somber expression on his face.

“Says the man who has strictly dated rich straight white bleach-blonde models for the past two decades,” she says, completely inscrutable, turning to him with dead eyes, the faintest twitch of a smirk. She learnt this insolence from him.

Knowing his threats aren’t all that threatening, he takes a shot anyway. “Watch that mouth missy or I’ll ground you!”

“Have fun trying.” Yeah, he probably shouldn’t have done that, because she’s unendingly challenging through all of her habitual daughterly care tasks.

He pokes out his fingers and pinches Y/N’s waist, forcing her to flinch away from him with an aghast grin cotorting her features.

He just stands away, and laughs at her reaction and stroppy walk until she almost walks into the big framed photo on the wall, a somber expression passing over his face then. He approaches her, the two of them just gazing up at the smiling faces on the wall pensively.

“He would be so proud of you right now.”

“Thanks dad,” she replies, hugging him around his tummy.

Late family members and friends are always a touchy topic with her dad, and she gets why, but it's just... funny. She was so young when they died, but she knows how much they all meant to her dad, how soft he is on the inside, the memories he shared. She remembers what her dad said, how she was the only thing that got him through the tough times, having someone there to hold and cry to without having to talk about any of it. She’d like to think she’s always helped her dad that way, and she always will. But she can see it on his face that he’s worried, he just looks tired, and he doesn’t do tired, that’s what betrays him. When she grows up, gets a boyfriend, gets her degree and moves out, she’ll forget about him; that’s what his mind has convinced him. She just has to prove that won’t happen. A girl always needs her dad.

She smiles sadly, tapping her dads back briefly. “You should go out tonight, take your mind off it.”

“I know. I have plans. No drinking involved tonight, I promise.”

“Ok, good.” She pauses, and moves away to collect her keys and her phone from the side board, but she stops, and turns to peer over her shoulder. “Are you... ok with this?” she asks hesitantly, the pitch of her voice rising.

His deep breath that moves his whole burly chest up and down, followed by running a hand through his unstyled hair: he has no plans of going out, she can see as much. “Of course I am, I just want you to stay safe,” he kisses her forehead. “Now go before I change my mind.”

With Jake’s blessing, she moves a little freer, even if it is given with great reluctance. Tom will be waiting for her, she’s sure, looking dapper as always with that mischievous smile to match the twinkling glint in his eyes. He’ll be wearing a nice shirt, he wears them a lot, and his arms will fill out the entire sleeve width, naturally. His curls will fall into his eyes if his hair is long enough, and his voice will be deeper than usual, the way he always tends to make it when he’s flirting with someone. The thought of seeing him again makes her fingertips tingle and her core burn, butterflies erupting in her throat.

She gathers her things and herself, and straightens her spine, righting the angle of her hips, ready to make her way out, but not before hugging her dad one last time.

“Be home by eleven, alone. No hands. Have you got your rape alarm? Phone? Everything else I told you to pack earlier?”

“I’ve got them all, dad, don’t worry.” She says, adding a slight breathy chuckle at the end to ease the anxiety in her own tone. If she doesn’t stop him now, he’ll get a checklist out, and she’ll never leave.

“I do worry though, Y/N. You’re my only daughter, my baby girl, and you’re on a date looking so grown up.”

“Dad, don’t cry,” she warns tenderly.

He swallows thickly, “I won’t, I won’t I promise. I’ll have my phone on. Call me if you need me, good luck. I love you, kid”

Keys in hand, the elevator door opens, and she steps in. “Love you.”

And the doors close, her final glimpse of her dad one of his strained fake smile to make her feel better in herself, when really, she can see he’s just aching to give her date a stern talking to, but other than that, she feels good in herself, especially with the texts that begin flying in. Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Maggie, Uncle Ryan, Uncle Hugh, they’re all commenting on the photo of her with the dogs that Jake has posted on their private page, all comments hyping her up the same way Jake just was, compliments flying in.

Nothing like confidence to leave the house with.

———

In 2013, Jake did a film called Prisoners, and on press for it, he had to have half of the tapes wiped. It was a film about a man whose daughter was abducted alongside her friend, and he had to investigate it. He had to have a therapist on set, he barely left Y/N an evening or a weekend alone without calling her or skyping her or flying over, desperate to see her. The thought of his real life reflecting his film terrified him more than words could say. The nightmares turned to daymares while he was filming, and have followed him ever since. How he could ever tone down his care, he doesn’t know, because it’s a real risk, he’s heard the stories. It’s still his greatest fear, and it always will be. It was before, and even now with the blossoming young woman she’s becoming, he fears even more. Men can’t be trusted, and never again will he let a man lay a finger on her the way his ‘friend’ once did. She’s his treasure, his daughter to protect, the best thing that ever happened to him. That’s why he can’t face leaving the house tonight. He’ll just end up crying outside, worrying himself sick. The city is a scary place, and people can’t be trusted, but he knows he can’t take her everywhere.

The making of Southpaw eighteen months later was just as hard, perhaps even worse, and required Y/N to take a semester off school, working remotely with her dad. It was a film that mirrored the possibilities of life, and making it caused him months of heartache. Almost every day she was on set with him, holding his hand before every shot even at her big age of fourteen. There was a therapist on that film too, on set especially for Jake, to keep him from going into a similar spiral to that of his character, but really, despite all the training and the help, he kept breaking down. Paranoia ruined him, taxed him. No one would ever take his little girl from him, so all the pain, all the hurt he shows in that film is real, that’s his heart acting. Anguish took its toll on him, and made his performance better than before, authentic, fuelled by torment.

There was one scene where his daughter had to run up and hug him, all battered and bruised, and Jake had asked Y/N to stay off the set for the day. It was too violent for her, too scary, but she’d already taken the term off, and had to see him. As she entered the room, unbeknownst to her, the cameras started rolling, and she ran. Screaming and bawling, she ran to her dad, flinging her arms around his neck, clutching to him, trying desperately not to look at his bruised face as he held her back and whispered reassurances into her ear. On the B roll, there’s an actual clip of that. She took over the kids part any time she could, making it easier and simultaneously harder for her dad to act, but really, he needed her there more than he’ll ever admit. Seeing him that way scared her to no end, though, and that’s why they had to stick together. Even more than Prisoners and Stronger, it was the hardest film he ever made, because it was his little girl he was fighting for, a job he’ll never stop. On that set, he lost himself and his bearings more often than he should’ve, leading to everyone working on set to have to sign an NDA after they all found out about Y/N. He didn’t care, she was safe and by his side, he was able to take care of her and she could take care of him. That’s what family is all about. Being in that courtroom, though, even just acting, he thought about the real possibility of losing the custody of his precious daughter, and it split him apart. He wouldn’t let Y/N leave him that night, he stayed awake and sat in bed with her, running his fingers through her hair. Never will anyone take her away from me, he swore to himself that day, but now she’s grown up, he knows someone will take her eventually. She’ll grow, she’ll find a nice husband, and she’ll be taken away from him.

She needs to grow up, get away from him, he’ll never dare smother her, but tonight, maybe he should just follow her…

No.

He scolds himself instantly, how dare he think that? His fears will never affect her, he promised himself that. Nothing wrong in his life will mar her life and her growth. He has to trust it, whatever it is. The process, the boy (no chance), his daughter. That much is easy. He loves her more than words, so much it sometimes scares him, what he’ll do when she moves out and stops being his daughter, but he’s always trusted her too, always, and he’s sure that she kept those boarding school staff in line more than they did her. She’s achieved so much so young, an absolute marvel, and she’s never set a toe out of line. He trusted her to be safe and well while he went on sobbing in interviews at the slightest mention of an abducted child. Were she there, he certainly wouldn’t have held it together, and for some reason, that’s what’s convincing him to stay away. She’ll do far better on her date with the mystery man provided she thinks he’s out having a good time of his own instead of following her and spying on her. Trust and love are key, he just has to believe she’ll be okay, and he’ll see her later. Maybe he’ll meditate instead.

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theyalldeserveddbetter · 4 years

Text

The Greatest Prank War Of The Century- Headcannon

(Jake Gyllenhaal x teen! daughter reader)

Request:

Just imagine. Jake and his daughter having a prank war on set. How chaotic would that be???

A/N: GUESS WHO’S STILL HERE HAHA! I hope you enjoy this chaotic duo TM ✨

• It was a mistake

• a completely a utter mistake of casting you and Jake for the same film

• Not because of you guys’ acting

• but for the chaos that followed it

• Now, you may be wondering ‘what chaos could you possibly mean?’

• The Prank Wars

• That’s it

• Everyone that has ever worked with you two knew about The Prank Wars

• Whenever you were both cast for a film, one was bound to happen

• This one was different

• How was this one different?

• You two wanted to make this The Greatest Prank War Of The Century

• The biggest and the greatest

• Oh what joy for fellow castmates

• This all started quite harmless actually

• Maybe switching the sugar in each other’s drinks for salt, or untying each other’s shoelaces

• But soon it grew and escalated

• There was a time where you covered Jake’s whole trailer (both inside and out) with pictures of Sebastian Stan and Tom Hiddleston

• Jake got back at you by painting your trailer bright neon pink

• (Jokes on him, you didn’t mind the colour. It made finding your trailer easier)

• You may be wondering why you two had separate trailers.

• Well, it’s pretty self explanatory

• The chaos would only grow with a shared trailer

• The biggest prank you ever played on Jake was convincing him that the directors had changed his script

• The poor guy practised lines of Hamlet for a week straight

• The biggest prank Jake ever played on you was actually after you had both shot the movie

• He gave you the wrong address for the venue where the movie premier was held

• You were an hour late to your own premier!

• After that, you both agreed to stop pranking each other

• Until the next movie you two were cast in that was

Taglist

@ssebstann @lozzypoz321 @hera-the-writer @emmasdrowned @stillmanicc @peachyprincessss

Jake Gyllenhaal Taglist

@zepplin-2005 @quacksonlover81

*strikethrough means i couldn’t tag you*

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panic-in-the-multiverse · 3 years

Text

MARVEL

Warnings = **

x teen!reader / x child!reader / x daughter!reader / x gn!reader / x reader / x sibling!reader

I don’t own Marvel or any of the characters in Marvel , I only own the imagines that I have created in tumblr or wattpad.

Main masterlist

MCU CHARACTERS

IMAGINE

Pizza & Cuddles ** - Kate Bishop x reader: You blind in one eye and Kate helps you get by

Family Reunion ** - Baron Zemo x teen!reader, Sam Wilson x teen!reader, Bucky Barnes x teen!reader: Zemo si your father and you have a bad relationship with him after what he did in CACW and he’s trying to fix your relationship (coming soon)

B-u-c-k-y? Bucky ** - father!Bucky Barnes x child!reader: The beginning of your relationship with your father and a glimpse at the progress

SERIES

HEADCANNON

Dating Kate Bishop Would Include ** - Kate Bishop x reader: what I imagine it would be like to date Kate Bishop

Tony Stark as a Father ** - Tony Stark x teen!reader: what I imagine it would be like if Tony Stark was your father

Steve Rogers as a Father ** - Steve Rogers x teen!reader: what I imagine it would be like if Steve was your father

Being Star Lord’s daughter** - Peter Quill x daughter!reader: what it would be like to be Peter Quills daughter

Being Marc Spector’s sibling** - Marc Spector x teen!reader, (Steven Grant x teen!reader, Konshu x teen!reader, Jake Lockley x teen!reader): what I think it would be like to be Marc’s little sibling

X-MEN CHARACTERS

IMAGINE

SERIES

HEADCANNON

Being Logan’s daughter ** - Logan Howlett x daughter!reader: what I imagine it would be like to be Logan’s daughter

Being Logan’s ftm son **- Logan Howlett x ftm!son!reader: what it would be like if you were Logan’s ftm son

Being Deadpool’s daughter would include ** - Wade Wilson/Deadpool x teen!daughter!reader: what it would be like to be Deadpool’s daughter (coming soon)

DAREDEVIL • PUNISHER • VENOM • WEREWOLF BY NIGHT • SPIDER-VERSE

IMAGINE

Coffee Talks** - Frank Castle x teen!reader: you met Frank a while back at your fave coffee shop and since then you two have met up each weak to talk, only this time it’s not only Frank who has bruises all over his face

Birthday Special- Matt Murdock x teen!reader: it’s your birthday and Matt is the only one who knows how you really want to celebrate your birthday

Nonexistent Eating Patterns** - Matt Murdock x teen!reader: you haven’t been eating sleeping or drinking as you should and Matt is there to help

SERIES

Little Murder ** - Billy Russo x teen!reader: you try to get into Anvil so that you can learn how to protect yourself against your abusive parents, and in doing so you made Russo interested into why a teenager that’s too young to join the army wants to join Anvil which is made for ex-military to get a job, and eventually he finds out about your family situation. (Coming soon)

HEADCANNON

Being Eddie Brock’s daughter would include ** - Eddie Brock x teen!daughter!reader, Venom x teen!reader, Anne Weying x teen!daughter!reader: what I would be like to be Eddie Brock and Anne Weying’s daughter (coming soon)

Daredevil’s teen sidekick ** - Matt Murdock x teen!reader: what it would be like to be daredevil’s sidekick (coming soon)

Jack Russell adopting a child ** - Jack Russell x child!reader: Jack finds a child and decides to take care of it

Venom **- father Miguel O’Hara x teen!venom!reader: being Miguel O’Hara’s child while also being Venom/Spider-Man

MCU CAST

IMAGINE

You Okay Darling? ** - Tom Hiddleston x teen!reader: Tom helping you after a fight with your parents

SERIES

HEADCANNON

A Dream Come True - Jake Gyllenhaal x teen!reader: you persuade Jake to go to an amusement park

Tree House - Jake Gyllenhaal x child!reader: Jake building a tree house for you while in quarantine

Surprise - Jake Gyllenhaal x teen!reader: Jake (your father) gets surprised when he sees that you had taken home two dogs

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parkers-gal · 4 years

Text

masterlist

requests | closed to complete current requests <3

last updated | aug 5th, 2021

do not repost my work anywhere !! respect this please. | fics are not ordered in any particular way. these headers are mine so pls don’t use/take them

tom holland

insomnia - reader can’t get to sleep; tom finds out why

driving in the rain - fluffy dinner date and rainy drive back home

workouts and warmth - when all tom wants is some after-workout cuddles

from across the living room - announcing your engagement to your families

the one - you want to move out and get your own place as a couple, but tom doesn’t. nikki talks to him.

anything for the twins - tom massages reader’s boobies during her period

moms, makeouts, and mishaps - nikki walks in during your makeout sesh

simple acts of intimacy - a fluffy 3.1k words worth of blurbs

silver surprises - the reader surprises tom at a premiere

twenty questions - questions ensue after tom & reader get stuck in an elevator

my gut - spinoff of twenty questions with claustrophobic!reader (tw/ anxiety + attacks)

stealth mode - tom & reader scaring each other

unicorns vs pegasuses - tom shuts the reader up by kissing them

a good story - tom meets reader at a meet & greet — friendships blossom to lovers

deal breaker - tom wants kids, but the reader does not

his lap - reader asks for help in overcoming an insecurity; tom misreads the situation

pool day - pool day w/ tom + the boys

hot - the reader picks a certain song that reminds her of tom - the boys go wild

grounded by rocks - tom talks about you in an interview for cherry

your hands - when all he wants is a simple head massage

late flights - in which tom takes too much time with the fans

nobody wanted to - where only one person makes it out alive

way more than 50 - the hollands trick the reader into thinking they did something they weren’t supposed to

why [ pt ii ] - sweet cupcakes, and a not so sweet breakup

what looks suspicious - nikki doesn’t exactly approve of tom dating the reader

something sweet - reader drops off small gifts while tom’s on set

he remembers - when tom finds the letter

missed you - reuniting w/tom after four long months

soft gangsta - tom tries to dress edgy; the reader is unconvinced

the shoe game - reader & tom play the shoe game at their wedding

too much - when the reader has a rough time with work, tom comforts them

losing grip [ pt ii ] - a losing battle between the reader and a hereditary disease causes heartbreak

your captain america - protective!tom holland of young reader (age gap)

sexy genius - reader is a fan of (and meets) jake gyllenhaal

teddy bear cuddles - tom wears an oversized hoodie

nonsense - the boys think the reader is meddling with tom’s work

circles before yourself - rule #2 - osterfield!reader gets caught with tom

seventeen times - when the reader is having a hard time in lock down, tom tries to help (TW // depression)

pixie dust hair - tom assures insecure!reader that the pixie haircut looks good <3

a few more months - reader passes out during a run; tw // excessive exercising

tiktok au’s

body ody ody - tom gets a little jealous over a few social media comments

sweats in the supermarket - getting tom hard when he wears sweats

put your records on - trying not to kiss each other first

mood killer - saying dirty things into tom’s ear

say it back - pranking tom by not saying ily back to him

two different ways - tom choking the reader to get two different reactions

brutal - doing the “did you mean to post this?” trend on tom

worst thirty minutes of my life - playing a drinking game with tom to see who gives into cuddles first

my girl’s cuddles - crawling into tom’s lap

even - buying hot leggings & taping tom’s reaction

goofball - a silly way to reveal reader’s pregnancy to tom

end the debate - “i found out why my boobs are small” trend

slam the car door - doing the car door prank on tom

water bottle wars - the boys ask you and tom questions about each other. wrong answers result in sprayed water

get you back real good - you & the boys prank tom after watching a scary movie

peachy - sighing / moaning in front of tom playing video games to get his reaction

my princess - tom does a tiktok where he guesses all your answers to everyday questions

dad!tom

needles and needs - when scarlet has to get shots, you realize she may not be the only one that needs comforting

all my girls - scarlet meets her baby sister for the first time (dad!tom)

everything i love about u - tom is afraid baby red might hate him for leaving home too much

a little extra help - stepdad!tom being the best dad to your daughter

through the tears - pregnant!reader goes into labour, and baby holland meets the family

first feed - tom watches you breastfeed for the first time

warmth from the love - baby holland’s first Christmas

first words - baby holland speaks for the first time

breaking the internet - when your pregnancy announcement crashes multiple apps/websites (pregnant!reader)

breaking the internet... again - when baby holland breaks the internet

boyfriends and brunch - when jade brings home her boyfriend (aged!up)

big sister + how are babies made - telling scarlet about the baby on the way (pregnant!reader)

too many kids - the reader’s dad has some commentary about the twins

mumma’s girl - tom gets jealous when scarlet isn’t a daddy’s girl

angels - a little skin to skin time with his best girl

family man - after a nasty breakup, tom finds out you had his child

cheesy uncles - telling paddy he’s going to be an uncle

ag!reader (more to come !!)

y’all really get nasty - tom and the fans discuss ag!reader’s songs

my favorite things - ag!reader performs in front of the mcu cast at the grammy’s

34 + 35 - the boys react to reader’s new song(s)

34 + 35 remix - the boys reacting to the remix

his remedy - the boys react to positions deluxe

neglected - AG!reader breaks up w tom because of their job; tom searches for answers

low-key wants him - reader talks about how much nonna (+ her fam) loves tom

see u soon - reader interacts with tom while on stage for the swt

a few spilled secrets - AG!reader performs on jimmy fallon’s show.. tom and her confess a few secrets

for the first time - when the reader breaks down crying while singing about her ex, tom is there to comfort her

dance with me, rain on me - reader has a hard time on set, tom to the rescue

every tomorrow - the first album release night after your breakup

here we go again - introducing tom (+ the boys) to your celebrity friends

condoms or safety nets - the boys react to AG!reader’s song “safety net”

we’re not engaged - AG!reader announcing to the world why they no longer have a fiance... (fluffy)

the late late show - AG!reader & tom do spill your guts or fill your guts

pain from pleasure - dad!tom goes through a birth simulator — controlled by the reader

never have i ever - tom & the reader play a game on the late late show

fluffy hair - ag!reader has a zoom interview with zach sang. tom makes an appearance

fighting off the haters - ag!reader and older!tom holland (age gap) attend an award show after going public

run your hands thru my hair - tom reacts to ag!reader’s song “my hair”

stick to acting - tom tries to make a beat for ag!reader

practically twins - reader meets sebastian & anthony at comic con

damn lucky - black!reader wears her hair naturally during an interview

what a piece - reader talks about tom related songs & tattoos

flip it - tom talks about reader in an interview

at the door - older!reader & tom fight off haters

a headcannon of ag!reader being a marvel cast member

a headcannon of tom & the reader attending the avengers endgame premiere

styles!reader (more to come !!)

bathroom kisses - makeout sessions with tom and styles!reader in the bathroom

yeah, he is - tom holland x styles!reader meet the styles family; protective older brother harry makes an appearance

unparalleled love - older brother harry styles makes a speech at reader’s wedding

grilled - date night for tom & styles!reader is a bit difficult with two kids; older brother!harry to the rescue

baby showers and brothers - dad!tom & styles!reader are going to be parents

potential boyfriend - tom has a crush on the reader when they first meet

ts!reader (more to come!!)

trust me - tom & the reader defend her after nikki doesn’t approve

your london boy - tom & co. + the world reacts to “london boy”

boy of my dreams - tom being proud of the reader for winning a grammy

rapper!tom

tom records your sounds during sex for his music (hc)

tom talks about you in an interview

concepts: one , two , three

professor!tom

my pretty girl - tom gets jealous when reader gets many valentines

other reader tropes

cherry - reader is a screenwriter for tom’s upcoming movie

no shouting - singer!reader needs some help after paparazzis are too much (based on a video of tom)

pregnancy belly - actress!reader has to wear a pregnancy belly for her role, and the boys tease tom about when it’ll be real

we march - actress!reader being a huge feminist

passions & pediatricians - pediatrician-to-be!reader meets tom

politics - reader’s granpa is joe biden (requested) and tom meets him

extra support - psychiatrist!reader helps tom on the set of cherry

you made it big - tom holland x actress!reader at the after party

partition - the boys react to famous!reader singing partition

senorita - singer!reader makes a music video with shawn, who’s tom’s new best friend

miniseries

boomerang: one , two , three , four [completed]

peter parker

making amends

➢ enemies to lovers ; college!peter x super soldier!reader ; 30k words ; sorta slow burn

cheeky guy, favorite thighs - college!peter doing a tik tok challenge — between the reader’s thighs [tik tok au]

a little nicer - doing the prank on peter (”you could’ve been a little nicer to me today”)

start searching - first make out sessions with our best boy :)

hidden hickeys - the avengers think innocence of peter, until they’re proven wrong

the team - part two of hidden hickeys; reader meets the avengers

all of you - late night talks about your future with peter :’)

like you wouldn’t believe - reader tells mj about her & peter’s awesome sex

slip from my hands - roommate!peter comforts the reader after a nightmare

i’d wait for her - college!peter parker needs to come to terms with you and your boyfriend

shut up and kiss me - soft make out sessions with peter :)

all the good things in the world, and i get you - insecure!reader needs a little reassuring

modern chivalry - peter being a gentleman on the subway

eggnog and mistletoe - peter helps you love the holidays

the force awakens? it sleeps - a little extra comfort & care from our favorite baby boyfriend

a prince - wonder woman!reader meets spider-man (& avengers) in a mission

steve rogers fics - peter finds you reading fanfiction abt steve rogers

fanboy!peter

fanboys and bracelets - fanboy!peter parker goes to famous!singer!reader’s meet and greet

fanboys and phone numbers - fanboy!peter parker continuation

showing around - fanboy!peter gets VIP access; some dancing ensues

stark!reader + avengers!reader

if you knew feelings - the avengers want you & peter to break up

sleeping - peter misinterprets a few important questions

the may to your ben - college!best friend!peter parker x stark!reader fluff

race ya - peter confesses his feelings for rogers!reader after a mission — on comms

frat bathrooms - stark!reader joins the avengers where she sees college!peter, the boy she slept with at a frat party

rainy days - reader doesn’t like rainy days, a certain wall-climber changes their mind

already got her - jealous!peter makes a public confession

flustered!peter

a nervous one - flustered!peter parker sees cheerleader!reader in her uniform

one day soon - flustered!peter parker x affectionate!reader

all better - flustered!peter parker does some lab flirting with reader

dad!peter + pregnant!reader

unplanned [ part ii ] - reader gets pregnant... breaks up with peter to avoid it all

burrito wraps - reader worries that baby parker might be cold

a name to remember - latine!reader & peter give their girl a special name

you’re magic - a certain wall crawler hears two heartbeats

sgt. bucky barnes

first cuddles - bucky asks to cuddle for the first time

harry holland

golden light, the love of my life - the boys tease harry —on a live video— for being whipped

it won’t f^cking open - harry lends a helping hand

how much i - those three magical words are exchanged for the first time

cuddly koala moments - time the reader just needed harry’s warmth

anything for hands - the reader cuts harry’s hair on instagram live

your other best friend - the reader is sam’s new friend, but harry thinks they like tom instead

you’re my anchor - harry has an anxiety attack, but the reader knows what to do

what’s his [ pt ii ] - when everything thinks the reader should date tom instead, harry snaps

whipped fries - harry brags about the reader winning the pub quiz for them

tell me, show me - the reader makes harry flustered by playing w/the strings from his sweatpants

keep your cool - tom setting u up with his brother // nikki being wary

ag!reader

you’re such a dream to me — ag!reader writes r.e.m. about harry

harry styles

intoxicating - soft bubbles baths with long haired!harry

frayed braids - reader braids long haired!harry’s hair

others:

harrison osterfield

not anymore - when harrison comes back from filming, he’s determed to win the reader’s heart

irreversible - when relationships fall apart, people fall apart. (infidelity)

circles before yourselves - rule #1 - harrison x osterfield!reader (sister) when brothers talk, bad things begin

think of her - harrison asks your family for their blessing [holland!sister]

steve harrington

together not never - steve discovers the reader is pregnant

3K notes · View notes

tom-holland-parker · 4 years

Text

The Moment I Knew

Summary: All you asked for was one day to spend with your boyfriend and family, but Peter has let him role as Spiderman take over his life

Pairing: Peter parker x Stark!reader

Warning: maybe a curse word towards the end but other than that nothing

Word count: 1520

Masterlist

Note: I'm starting to notice that the only time I can actually sit down and write things I’m happy about is when I’m writing stories inspired about Taylor Swift songs. Anyway this is based off her song The moment I knew (which funny enough is about Jake Gyllenhaal). Anyway send me a song and I’ll write a oneshot about it. Part two Here

You clutched the red plastic cup in anticipation watching as more and more people walked through the door. Everyone’s laughter filled the room and even though you tried your hardest, you couldn’t hide the disappointment every time someone other than your boyfriend walked through the door. You sighed turning your attention back to the conversation you were having with Bruce, ‘Happy birthday kid” He pulled you into a hug, “Gosh I can still remember when you were 5 years old stealing my lab goggles”

“They looked really cool” you let out a fake laugh, hiding the sadness building inside you. “How are you though? Is school treating you good?” he asked as he sipped his soda.

You nodded, “School’s great I just can’t wait to graduate”

“That’s great” he smiled before looking at his phone, “Your dads calling me, but we’ll catch up later”. You nodded watching as he walked away, leaving you alone to think. You sighed putting your cup on the table before grabbing your phone to check the time, 8:54. You rolled your eyes when you realized there had been no text for Peter. Your mind wandered to the conversation you had with him earlier that day.

“Happy birthday babe” Peter smiled while pulling you in for a kiss.

You pulled away chuckling, “Thank you”, you grabbed his hand as you began walking to your homeroom, “Don’t forget the party starts at 5, you can still come right?”

You bit your lip nervously, for the past few months Peter had been so flaky. He’d forgotten about multiple dates and hardly ever spent time with you. It bothered you but you never bought it up out of fear that you’d upset him.

He nodded his head and smiled, “Don’t worry I’ll be there”

You sighed, looking up at the fairy lights that covered the ceilings. “Maybe he’s just running late” You whispered to yourself. You shook your head trying to stop thinking. “What’s wrong pumpkin?” You heard Wanda’s concerned voice from behind you. You took a deep breath, “Nothing wrong, just really tired. Do you think dad will let us cut the cake early?”

“Absolutely not” Your father’s voice boomed from next to you, “It’s tradition that you cut your cake at the exact time you were born”

“Oh come on Tony” Wanda argued, “the girl’s finally 18 let her have her cake early this time”. Your father shook his head, “nope the cake will be cut at 10:17 like it is every year”

Wanda shrugged, giving you an apologetic look before walking away. “Where’s Peter?” Your father looked around the room, “I haven’t seen him all night”. You sighed, “Running late I think”, you glanced at the door quickly before looking back, “you know he has Spider watch”

Your father shook his head, “I gave him the night off”. Your face dropped, a lump of sadness growing in your throat, “Oh” you whispered, wanting nothing more than to be alone right now, “I have to use the bathroom”

You walked away quickly locking the door once you reached the bathroom. Staring at yourself in the mirror as tears began to roll down your face. You were only in there for a minute when you heard loud knocking, “Y/n I know you’re in there” you heard MJ’s voice through the door, “Come on open up its just me and Ned”

You swallowed back the tears and you wiped your face, slowly opening the door. “Hey what’s wrong” Ned asked in a concerned tone.

You sighed, sitting down on the floor as your friends walked into the bathroom. “He said he’d be here” You said hopelessly as more tears trickled down your cheeks landing on your black party dress. MJ and Ned glanced awkwardly at each other before looking at you again, no doubt taking pity on you and your sadness. “He’s probably just running late” MJ said trying to make it sound believable, they both sat on the floor next to you. Ned sighed wrapping his arms around you, “Don’t worry I’m sure he’s out getting you the biggest gift ever”

You stared at your hands, not having the energy to look up. You didn’t care whether or not you got a gift, you just wanted to spend the night with Peter and your family and friends. Peter meant the most to you and it’s slowly killing you knowing he couldn’t bother to spend time with you on your birthday. Time seemed to move in slow motion as you sat there wrapped in your friends arms.

You glanced at Ned’s watch realizing you had been in the bathroom for nearly an hour. You wiped your eyes as everyone piled out the room. You glanced around, your heart swelling with pain when you didn’t see the brown hair that belonged to Peter.

“there’s the birthday girl” Steve shouted, “Come on it’s almost time for cake”. He grabbed your hand as everyone walked to the kitchen. You smiled as you watched your father pull the large cake out the fridge, happy at how good it looked, “Where’s the candles?”

“Right here” Thor passed them to Tony as you walked towards the cake. Your father placed the candles on the two layers before lighting them. “Alright on the count of three everybody sing” he shouted pulling out his phone to record, “1...2...3”

“Happy birthday to you..” you watched as your friends and family began singing. For the first time the whole night you had a genuine smile on your face as you looked around at all the people you loved. It didn’t last long once you remembered that the one person you truly wanted there was the one who didn’t show. You fought back the tears as you blew out the candles.

Once the party ended and everyone went home you sat in the kitchen picking at your third slice of cake. “Alright talk to me kid?” Tony sighed, taking a fork and stealing some of your cake. You shrugged, “Peter never showed”

He let out a deep breath, “Oh boyfriend troubles”. You nodded awkwardly, “Don’t worry dad I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it” You grabbed your plate and began walking out the kitchen. “I’ll figure it out”

“Wait” he gently grabbed your elbow, stopping you from leaving, “listen I like Peter, he’s a good superhero but I love my daughter so please don’t stay with him if he isn’t treating you right”.

You groaned, “promise me if we break up, you’ll still treat him the same. I don’t want the ruin his future as Spiderman”

He nodded letting go of your arm to let you walk away. When you got to your room you threw yourself on your bed trying to get all your thoughts in order. A few minutes later you heard a small knock on your window. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. “Go away Peter” You shouted

“Babe please let me explain” He begged. You shook your head, closing your curtains. “I’ll wait here all night,” He said, “you can’t ignore me forever”. You sighed waiting a few minutes to test his bluff, “You have two minutes” You said, opening your window to let him in. He ripped off his mask, moving the hair from his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it” he reached out to caress your face but you moved before he got the chance to touch you, “I just got held up”

“You had the night off” You yelled, crossing your arms as you stood up straight. He sighed, “I know I know” He looked down, fumbling with his mask, “I just thought maybe I could do a quick check around the neighborhood and then I’d make my way over here but I got caught up”

“Are you fucking kidding me” You clenched your fist, resisting the urge to punch him.

“But babe it’s just-”

“Were there any emergencies?” You asked in a harsh tone, tapping your foot on the ground as you waited for his answer.

“Babe-” he whispered, looking down, not being able to look you in the eye. “Were there any emergencies tonight?” You shouted. He didn’t answer, he didn’t need to. His silence was the only answer you needed. You sighed pointing towards to window, “I can’t do this anymore Peter”

“Wait no y/n don’t act like that” He gave you a pleading look. You shook your head, “no I’ve let you blow me off for months. All I asked for was one day, MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY and you couldn’t even do that”

You shoved him roughly, needing to let out your anger. He knew you were going to hit him but he didn’t block it. He knew he deserved it. “Get out” You shouted as tears began to fall down your face. He sighed climbing out the window. He stuck to the side of the tower, looking back at you, “I’m sorry”

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, “I’m sorry too” you whispered as you shut the window and closed the curtains

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morizoras-cave · 4 years

Text

Marvel Cast Masterlist

** = Trigger Warnings

X Teen!Co-Star!Readers

Praise Unheard Of - Jake Gyllenhaal x f!teen!reader: You cry when you hear just how much Jake appreciates you and admires you.

Purple Patches** - Benedict Cumberbatch! f!teen!reader, Tom Holland x f!teen!reader: Benedict and Tom realize that your home life is not so great, to say the least.

You Need Rest** - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: Tom finds you, broken down from all the stress of school and work.

Knowing Yourself** - Sebastian Stan x f!teen!reader, Anthony Mackie x f!teen!reader: Sebastian and Anthony as well as your other cast members joke about your sexuality, but you don’t find it as funny.

Expectations** - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: Tom overhears you in a heated discussion with your parents, fighting their unreasonable expectations of you.

Uncomfortable** - Jake Gyllenhaal x f!teen!reader: You open up to Jake about how your boyfriend forced you to do something you’re uncomfortable with, and Jake is not happy about it.

Unreal** - Tom Holland x f!teen!reader: You experience an episode of dissociation and Tom helps you down again.

Sexualization** - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: An interviewer asks you inappropriate questions and Tom is not having it.

Big Smile** - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: Tom sees you cry for the first time, when you struggle to deal with the stress of school.

Too Loud - Jake Gyllenhaal x f!teen!reader: Jake discovers that you are not all shy, but actually loud and outgoing.

Swell** - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: Tom finds out that you self harm and he does his best to help.

Bullies** - Tom Holland x f!teen!reader: Tom finds out about your bullies.

Brother From Another Mother - Tom Holland x f!teen!reader: You and Tom just have fun.

Action - James McAvoy x f!teen!reader: You get hurt whilst doing an action scene and try to hide it in shame, but James sees right through you.

Premiere Nerves** - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: Tom calms you down from a panic attack during the premiere.

The Legend Of Bepis - James Mcavoy x f!teen!reader: You and James terrify everyone with your horrific inside jokes..

Fat** - Tom Holland x f!teen!reader: Tom discovers your eating disorder.

Red Lines** - Tom Holland x f!teen!reader, Benedict Cumberbatch x teen!reader: Tom and Ben discover your self harming habit.

Obsessive** - Tom Holland x f!teen!reader: At a meet n’ greet a fan creeps you the hell out. Tom doesn’t like that.

Reflection** - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: Tom finds out that you are terribly insecure about your body and does his best to comfort you.

Trespasser** - Tom Holland x gn!teen!reader, Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!teen!reader: At a premiere a fan trespasses and inappropriately touches you. Tom and Jake are majorly pissed off.

Sleepyhead** - MCU cast x gn!teen!reader, Benedict Cumberbatch x gn!teen!reader: You’re always asleep around set and the cast wonders why.

Persistent** - MCU cast x f!teen!reader: With some of the marvel cast out at the mall, a boy won’t stop hitting on you, even when you politely decline.

Take Care** - Chris Evans x gn!teen!reader: After a solid week of overworking yourself, forgetting to eat, and having no chance to sleep, you faint, and Chris is not happy about it.

Weird** - MCU cast x gn!teen!reader: When you get bullied at school for your rather unconventional personality, you clam up, fearing that you are annoying.

Just a Cold - Tom Hiddleston x gn!teen!reader: It’s just a cold. Nothing too bad. That’s what you say, but then you faint on set, and Tom is not very happy about it.

Alley** - James Mcavoy x gn!teen!reader: James saves you from a creep in an alleyway.

Noise** - MCU cast x gn!teen!reader: you’re overwhelmed by all the noise, and your castmates help you calm down.

Memories Last Forever - MCU cast x f!teen!reader: In an interview your costars gush over your talent and awesomeness, and reflect on all the good memories from set.

Sleepover - Sebastian Stan x f!teen!reader, MCU cast x f!teen!reader: You and the MCU cast have a secret sleepover. Things go off the rails.

Don’t Apologize** - Sebastian Stan x gn!teen!reader, Anthony Mackie x gn!teen!reader: An interviewer makes you feel really uncomfortable, so Sebastian and Anthony get angry.

Pick Me Up** - Tom Holland x gn!teen!reader, Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!teen!reader: Your bullies beat you up, so you ask Tom and Jake to pick you up.

Over The Line** - Tom Hiddleston x gn!teen!reader: Tom finds out your manager abuses you, and gets pissed as all hell.

Delicate - Marvel Cast x gn!teen!reader: You’re an ex-stunt double, but the cast don’t know that, and are immensely scared that you will hurt yourself doing a risky stunt. You impress them.

Pass Out - Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!teen!reader, Tom Holland x gn!teen!reader: You’re sick and insist that you’re fine, but you end up passing out in front of fans.

Paper Bag** - MCU Cast x gn!teen!reader: You get pimples and struggle so much with your insecurity, that you end up putting a paper bag over your head to conceal your face.

Robbed** - Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!teen!reader, Tom Holland x gn!teen!reader: You get mugged and Jake and Tom help you feel like yourself again.

Treatment** - Sebastian Stan x gn!teen!co-star!reader, Anthony Mackie x gn!teen!co-star!reader: Your costars find out the terrible treatment you get at your foreign acting agency.

Headcanons

Mentor - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: In which Tom is your mentor, and a description of what your friendship is like.

Soul Sister - Elizabeth Olsen x f!teen!reader: You’re a very closed off person, but Elizabeth just knows the way to your heart.

The Runt - Marvel cast x f!teen!reader: You’re the new youngest person in the MCU cast, and this is how several different people would react to and treat you.

Substitute Dad** - Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!teen!reader: Jake discovers that you’ve never had a father figure and subconsciously takes that role into his own hands.

Young** - Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!teen!reader: Jake is overprotective of you because you’re very naive.

Father Figure** - Tom Hiddlestonx gn!teen!reader: Tom is like your father figure. That’s exactly why you feel so sad, when you find out he’s gonna have a baby of his own.

X Teen!Family!Readers

The Story Of Many** - Chris Evans x teen!little sister!reader: Your role is taking an emotional toll on you, and Chris discovers that you have secretly been taking pills to cope with your mental health.

Road Trip - Sebastian Stan x teen!daughter!reader: Sebastian has planned a road trip for the two of you, but you’ve gotten a sick, and you hide it in fear of ruining the trip.

Misunderstanding - Chris Evans x teen!daughter!reader, Jaeden Martell x f!reader: You and Jaeden sneak out of a premiere to joke around and take pictures, but Chris thinks you’re doing something entirely different..

Drink** - Ryan Reynolds x teen!daughter!reader: Your drink is roofied at a party and Ryan comes to pick you up.

Break Up - Holland Brothers x gn!teen!sibling!reader: You experience your first break up, and the brothers are there to comfort you.

Headcanons

Award Winning - Chris Evans x teen!daughter!reader: Chris’ reaction to you winning an award for Rising Star.

Romantic X Readers

Jealous - Jake Gyllenhaal x f!reader: At an award show a celebrity tries to chat you up and Jake is NOT having it.

X Child!Readers

Kid Problems** - MCU cast x f!reader, Mark Ruffalo x f!reader, Scarlett Johansson x f!reader: The MCU cast discover that your mom and their coworker is an abusive asshat.

Be My Date - Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!reader: Jake finds out your parents can’t go to the premiere and joins you instead.

Bubble Laugh - Sebastian Stan x gn!reader: You’re shy, but you accidentally reveal your pure, loud, uncontainable laughter, and the cast loves it.

Headcanons

Little Coworker - MCU cast x gn!reader: You’ve worked with a couple of marvel actors before, and they’re glad to show off your amazing acting skills to the rest of the cast.

#masterlist #marvel masterlist #avengers masterlist #avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader

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nonstoplover · 4 years

Text

nonstoplover's one-shots

about: this is a masterlist for all the one-shots i’ve written for actors, movie and book characters, musicians, occasionally complemented with a second part.

a/n: i’d like to note that i mean no disrespect for the real people, these are only fruits of my imagination.

SEBASTIAN STAN:

☆ those thin bathroom walls | s.s. x fem!reader — this is the story of how in lockdown because of the pandemic Sebastian and (y/n) become shower singing buddies.

.*☆

JENSEN ACKLES:

☆ passing grey clouds | j.a. x fem!reader, age gap — at an 'end of college' party, his negative thoughts regarding their age gap come back and cloud over his head - leaving it to her to chase these clouds away once and for all.

.*☆

DAVE FRANCO:

☆ 36 questions | d.f. x fem!reader — as part of an experiment two complete strangers, Dave and (y/n) have to answer thirty-six question to see if in the end they actually fall in love.

☆ photoshoot | d.f. x photographer!reader — (y/n), an emerging photographer finally gets a chance to have a major photoshoot with someone famous - who eventually turns out to be none other than her favourite actor.

☆ café pt.1 | d.f. x fem!reader — (y/n)’s favourite time of the week is when she goes to her favourite café and enjoys the taste, the scent whilst reading a book. though one day it becomes more than that, when a specific brown haired boy asks to sit down at her table…

☆ café pt.2 | d.f. x waitress!reader — after meeting him, (y/n) doesn’t think much of the man, already feeling the luckiest to have met him. Dave on the other hand truly can’t stop thinking about her, and goes to get her.

.*☆

TOM HIDDLESTON:

☆ suffering from separation | t.h. x fem!reader — after quite a long time spent apart from each other, (y/n) and Tom can’t wait to see each other again, and when they finally do, events swiftly taking a turn only to make it one of the happiest days of their lives.

.*☆

JAKE GYLLENHAAL:

☆ oscars | j.g. x pregnant actress!reader, requested, drabble — after a successful evening at the Oscars, (y/n) and Jake get ready for bed in a love-filled atmosphere once back at home again, memories of the night flashing back.

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW:

☆ unstoppable apologies | b.b. x benjamin!reader — Rooster can't find the courage to ask Penny's daughter out, right up until one especially tipsy night when things take a turn.

.*☆

FRED WEASLEY:

☆ all that i need | f.w. x ravenclaw!reader — when the Weasley twins prank the possibly shiest girl of Hogwarts, what they don’t expect at all is her performing a similarly playful, mischievous and very much impressive revenge on them, but oh boy, what a pleasant consequence it leads to.

☆ happily ending catastrophies | f.w. x muggle!reader — Fred is accidentally (and fortunately) at the right place in the right time, and is able to save a muggle girl’s life.

.*☆

MICHAEL CORLEONE:

☆ for the better pt.1 | m.c. x wife!reader — Michael scolds his wife for acting without his approval and things escalate quickly, not quite the way Michael imagined.

☆ for the better pt.2 | m.c. x wife!reader — (y/n) is back to living life alone, and it’s not long until she finds company to divert her thoughts from the fight whilst Michael keeps on trying to find a way to win his wife back.

ZACH HERRON (why don't we) :

☆ it's all an act | z.h. x fem!reader, requested — when Zach’s too nervous to tell her crush how he feels, Jack - fed up with his best friend’s cowardice - pretends to make a move on the girl to get a reaction out of the younger boy.

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jakegooglyeyes · 2 years

Text

Emblem of Roses - 4

Pairings: Jake Gyllenhaal x reader, Maggie Gyllenhaal x reader (Medieval AU)

Word count: 5,300

Chapter warnings: light smut, dubcon, dry humping, drinking.

*** Your online experience is your responsibility. You have been warned. If any of these content upsets you, DO NOT READ!!! ***

A/N: @gyllenhaalstories I did it, I finished the chapter. *cry* The chapter in which we learn why milord doesn't remember reader's face.

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

The pungent aroma of fermented fruits and honey invades your senses as you tumble on the earth, bearing the burden of an entire grown man. His Lordship keeps muttering his apologies into your ears in his intoxicated stupor. His drunken struggles only push you further into the ground.

"My Lord, please move."

You croak, elbowing his chest to prevent the man from collapsing on you. The disgrace of your wedding night resurfaces in your mind as his body heat and musky scent envelop you, making the winter night almost too hot to bear.

"Shifty rabbit, I am no Lord to you."

His words come out slurred and a little upset. He pushes himself up with his arms, but his entire lower body weighs you down on the cold, dusty stone floor. He gazes longingly at your form in the dark, licking his lips dry from the excessive drinking.

With a subtle shake of your head, you dodge the air saturated with alcoholic vapor. You are grateful, at least, that Lord Gyllenhaal is oblivious to the identity of his own wife, or so you pray. Whatever ale-infused fever dream has taken hold of him, you decide to comply and bide your time, waiting for the opportunity to wiggle away.

"Cat's got your tongue? Have you forgotten the stupid name you call me?"

With his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, the Lord runs his fingers on your lips, giggling like a fool. Then, as if he has found an entertaining plaything, he begins to rub and stretch your cheeks like a pile of dough. He does not seem to care if you even want to participate in this nonsensical, one-sided conversation.

With a deep inhale, you marvel at this frivolous facet of his personality while suppressing the temptation to knee him in the groin. The last thing you want is for him to regain awareness. Fortunately, his childish antics fail to amuse him for long. His hands slow down to a halt as he cups your face delicately. Your eyes begin to distinguish his quiet, slumping silhouette in the dark. A comforting warmth spreads across your stomach, then your chest, as he descends to be closer to your face.

"Have you forgotten me?"

The Lord is now so dangerously close that the very tip of your nose brushes against his. You reflexively tilt your face to the side, extending your arms in an attempt to support his weight and maintain a distance between you. His cold lips, seeking the softness they desire, land on your cheeks instead, eliciting a displeased grunt. The roughness of his beard scrapes against your skin as he continues his search, led by his mouth. The frigid touch of his lips explores your cheeks with tender care, worried he would miss a single inch.

"Are you angry?"

Unable to get what he wants, he sounds defeated. He is so close to you that you can sense the vibration in his broad chest as he groans. You have no desire to answer him, and the drunkard probably cannot comprehend whatever you say.

"You must be. I didn't come back for you."

His incoherent monologue goes on as he cradles your face with adoration, fingertips dancing on your cheeks. The heat from the palms seeps into your skin, making you feel the rough patches formed by many years of wielding the sword.

You want to say something in response, but the sudden firm grasp on your breast stops the words in your throat, followed by the ragged breaths of the man looming over you. The Lord ceases apologetic fussing, and the underground chamber falls into silence.

Though you have never considered yourself feeble or fragile and are used to arduous manual labor, you find it a monumental task to dislodge him. Despite your best efforts to shake him off, his superior grappling skills, honed through years of wrestling with the bannermen, ensnare you like stubborn vines. Every time you successfully worm your way out, he finds a way to recapture you, trapping you once more in his arms.

The pathetic wriggling presents the Lord an opening to make his way between your legs. His body causes the thick linen skirt to hike up your knees. Any leverage you may have is nullified by the thighs pressing into yours. Your right arm is stuck between your body while you try to push him away. And your remaining arm is left flailing blindly as he keeps one hand underneath your neck. His free hand runs down your side, fondling and squeezing every inch of you he can reach.

Your breaths hitch as the sudden touch catches you by surprise. You can neither see nor move, but the hard protrusion grinding against your pelvis is a tale-tell sign of the Lord's craving. His boots dig into the ground like an anchor as he slowly rocks himself into your hip. Audible sighs of pleasure escape his lips while he looks for release.

The sound of your teeth grinding together fills your ears as you struggle to determine if you feel humiliated or upset. The Lord has never spared you a kind word since the moment you set foot in these walls. To him, you have always been nothing but the wretched royal spawn. Yet here he is, seeking pleasure from you, mistaking you for his dearly long-lost beloved. He is capable of displaying affection and tenderness, just not towards you, his lawfully wed wife, not even as a farce. You cannot help but feel envious of the woman you have never met, the servants, everyone. Your pride is injured, and a stew of repressed bitterness begins to simmer within your heart.

Inexplicable greed creeps into your thoughts, causing a yearning that is both intense and insistent. It whispers into your ear, urging you to seize what is being offered. And, as the Lord's grasp tightens and his fingers manipulate with dexterity, it becomes increasingly difficult to resist the lure of this inner impulse. The warmth emitting from him is simply too comforting.

Sensing that your resistance has stopped, the Lord loosens his hold, falling on top of you as his breathing roughs. You let your free arms lie still on your sides as you bear witness to the Lord's charade. His dry thrusts become more urgent as his fingers fumble with your clothes.

The chilling air current of a winter night licks your skin like the edge of a sword as your chest and belly are exposed after a sharp tearing noise. You instinctively bring your hands up to cover your breasts, only to find the Lord a step ahead. Your breath is caught in your throat when an unfamiliar blistering heat covers the frigid skin of your mounds. The direct sensation is wholly different from being felt through clothes.

You cannot hold back an embarrassing whimper when a hot, wet mouth encloses one of your nipples, sucking in earnest. The hand on the other breast moves in tandem, a motion you can only describe as a hungry kitten pressing its mother's teats for milk. Your face burns with shame as the Lord nibbles on your bud like a scrumptious morsel.

The noxious aroma of wine and the dank air of the basement make your head loopy. You must be ludicrous as the thought of indulging him until he is sated begins to seem plausible. Your hand rises, your fingers brushing against the side of his head, where you feel the heat of his flushed cheeks. The Lord emits a soft groan, interpreting your gesture as encouragement.

Your body and his entangle as he starts to rub against you with vigor. His fingers refuse to let any bare inch of skin escape, caressing and pinching your naked flesh. You whimper and writhe underneath the Lord, unable to cope with the unfamiliar pleasure slowly building up. Although your lower body is still clothed, you can feel his hardness sliding along your untouched private part. The nasal growls in his throat get increasingly desperate as he inches closer to his rapture.

Guiding by instinct and lust, the Lord props himself up and fiddles to undo his trousers, freeing his painful erection. Then, not having enough patience to get rid of your remaining clothes, he searches for your hand and pulls it toward his stiff manhood before wrapping your unwilling fingers around it. The Lord's shaft throbs as his precum slathers your palm, allowing him easy movement. You do not want to know what is in his fantasy as the Lord thrusts into your hand while vocalizing his ecstasy.

With a final jerk, the Lord lets out a shaky breath. Hot, sticky ropes of him land on your breasts and stomach. He falls on top of you, breathing heavily, having been spent and exhausted. Unbeknownst to your husband, a hidden contraction in your core makes you flustered and frustrated. You cannot explain the yearning emptiness you are made to feel.

However, you soon realize you do not have the luxury of caring about your needs. As you struggle to push the man off, you hear approaching footsteps from the stairs leading down the basement. Panic grips your heart as torchlight illuminates the previously unlit storage chamber. Quietly, you free yourself from underneath the unconscious man and seek refuge behind the stack of barrels, holding your breath and desperately clinging to your disheveled clothing as the footsteps draw near.

Loud splash echoes inside the chamber, causing the Lord to grumble in protest as freezing water dumped over his head. You strain your eyes, trying to peak at the yellow flame of the torch. Two feminine figures, Lady Maggie and the middle-aged steward, still holding the empty bucket, stand over the Lady's troublesome brother. Their presence starkly contrasts with the moment of intimacy that had just transpired.

"My Lord, please stand up. The guests are waiting for you."

The Lady's composure conceals her inward frustration at the shameful spectacle. Although you cannot discern her expression through the narrow gap between the barrels, it is clear that she is not happy. The Lord's eyes sting at the torch's lights as he looks up at the women. Finally, he tenses up and comes to his senses. The fleeting remnants of his drunken hallucination vanish, but the sage's fragrance lingers, albeit almost too faint to notice. With a muttered curse, the Lord fixes his attire, salvaging what is left of his dignity, before furiously storming out of the underground chamber.

Lady Maggie's blue eyes resemble two inky pools under the faltering torch as she stands motionless in the middle of the chamber. The sudden departure of her brother amid the feast has left her juggling with the phony sycophants and inebriated nobles. She correctly suspected that her brother was hunting for more wine to drown his thoughts with, so she went to the basement to look for him. With the feast going on, the basement is frequently visited by servants. She does not want the Lord to be caught in an intoxicated state or seen defiling a hapless kitchen maid. These could ruin years of her effort to build up her brother's image as a righteous man.

"My Lady." The steward cautiously approaches her mistress and whispers something in the Lady's ears, which you cannot hear. You can only see the Lady's brows furrow for a moment before she goes back to her mellow impression.

"The guests are demanding his Lordship's presence. What would you have us do?"

The steward asks. Though she is nervous, her voice is as calm as ever, befitting the Lady's most trusted servant. Lady Maggie's eyes finally shift from the empty space where her brother was only moments ago to the steward, and she lets out a deep sigh.

"Gather the servants and inform them that the feast is to be concluded early. Tell everyone my brother had one too many drinks and has excused himself back to his chamber. Ensure guests are properly escorted back to their quarters."

With that, the Lady turns on her heel and strides out of the basement, with the steward quickly trailing behind. The underground chamber once again becomes a dark, cold hollow. You wait until you no longer hear footsteps and leave your hiding place.

Lord Gyllenhaal stumbles up the stone steps leading to his chamber, his thoughts a jumbled mess. His mind berates him for his irrational behaviors. He cannot explain what came over him in the basement, and the pleasant scent of sage still clouding his senses only adds to his confusion. Pushing through the decorated door, the Lord collapses onto his bed. He finds himself in torment, struggling against his desire, still slowly burning inside. Despite his best effort to suppress it, he cannot resist the fixation on the past.

As he lies on the bed, the Lord is consumed by doubt. He tries to make sense of what has just happened in the basement and questions the authenticity of the experience. Was the woman just a figment of his imagination, a manifestation of his longing? The uncertainty plagues him, leaving him to wonder if his mind has played tricks on him.

In that fleeting moment of bliss, the Lord believed the person in the basement was her. The sensation was so familiar and endearing that he felt it ingrained into his flesh and bones. His nerves were ablaze with excitement as the Lord reminisced about the warm body beneath him back then. It was too dark, and he only had his senses to rely on. Yet, there is an earthy aroma that lingers in his memory.

The Lord takes a moment to calm himself, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves and regain clarity. He shuts his eyes, racking his brain in search of the source of the scent. As the memory slowly returns, the Lord realizes the last time he encountered the smell was in your presence. He had overlooked it then due to its subtlety, but the realization now causes a wave of frustration to wash over him. The Lord rises from his bed and begins pacing the room, trying to rid himself of the strange feeling that has taken hold of him. He feels conflicted. He is not so blinded by hatred that he would blame a mere illegitimate daughter for everything her father has done. If anything, you are but a pawn in other people's twisted schemes. He knows that. And yet, he has been disturbed by your presence since the moment he saw you.

As if possessed, the Lord makes his way toward his so-called wife's chamber. He pushes the door open and scans the room, expecting you to be inside. But you aren't there, just like the other day. The space is empty, save for a few pieces of furniture and a burned herb's scent drifting gently. The bed is neatly made, and the hearth is cold. He notices small herb plants dotting the windowsill that he did not see the last time he was here. The Lord walks over to them, inspecting the leaves and little flowers, finding it puzzling that they can grow during the harshest days of the year.

Lord Gyllenhaal gradually takes control of his emotions as he stands in your room. Despite his dislike for you, the subtle scent has a soothing effect on him. He inhales slowly, letting the air fill his lungs as a reminder to keep his composure. As he looks around the room, taking in the sight of the properly tended plants, he cannot help but feel a twinge of ill-suited sentimentality. He finds it laughable that this place brings a semblance of peace to his troubled mind and that he keeps giving himself to these late-night wandering.

As much as he is irritated that this feels like a game of hide and seek, where you have wandered is none of his concern. Any place you should not be is well-guarded enough to prevent you from doing anything stupid. He decides to let the matter be for now and takes a final deep breath, savoring the scent of herbs one last time before leaving the room and closing the door behind him, lost in thoughts.

You stand by the well, cleaning yourself with haste. The freezing water serves to wash away not only the dirt but also whatever the Lord has left behind, dissipating the heat on your skin. Your bones are creaking from the piercing cold, but you do not care. You only want to rid yourself of the evidence of tonight. Once done, you quickly get dressed, securing your torn clothes with a rope, and make your way back to an empty chamber, oblivious to the fact that you have narrowly escaped the Lord's sudden visit.

With a strike from the flint, the fireplace begins to crackle. You breathe a sigh of relief when you feel the soft bed underneath your back, snuggling deep under covers, trying to get warm from the chill that has seeped into your bones. Your thoughts drift to the ordeal you faced in the basement. You wonder if the Lord recognized you, and the idea of being caught by him is frightening. But the fear is accompanied by a strange intrigue. An odd warmth rises on your cheeks as the images of the night are replayed in your head. You ponder the nature of the Lord's beloved one and what kind of person could bring out such vulnerability in his Lordship.

Unable to sleep, you jump to your feet and quickly retrieve a piece of parchment from your belongings, along with a quill and a small bottle of ink. Your promise to your mother weighs heavily on your mind, and you know she must be worried sick. But writing to her has been a challenge for two reasons. First, the constant demands of the fortress have kept you busy day and night, with little time for anything else. And second, you need to figure out how to get the letter to her. You are skeptical about asking Lady Maggie or the steward for help. The thoughts race through your mind as you dip the quill into the ink.

You stare at the blank parchment for a moment, unsure of what to write. You have been through so much since you arrived at the fortress, but you do not want your mother to worry more than she already has. You tap the quill's tip on the ink bottle, trying to find the right words. You tell her you are well, and the Gyllenhaals treat you kindly. You write about the feast and how things are different from the capital. At this point, you realize you have yet to see much of the fortress apart from the inner bailey. You stare at where the words trail off, having nothing more to say. Nothing that will not burden your mother. With a sigh, you roll the parchment and place it back in your chest. You may try again later when your thoughts are less muddled.

A series of knocks on your door makes your heart skip a beat. Your chest tightens as you wonder who could be seeking you out at this ungodly hour. The door opens slowly, and in walks Lady Maggie, wearing a soft expression, accompanied by the stern stewart. You can't help but feel a knot forming in your stomach.

"I apologize for disturbing your rest so late," Lady Maggie greets you with a smile. "But I must speak with you."

The steward places a finely crafted gown on your bed before departing, leaving you alone with Lady Maggie. She gestures for you to take a seat, and as she sits in the upholstered chair next to the desk, the soft glow from the hearth illuminates her graceful figure. Right now, Lady Maggie seems like a divine being from ancient mythology, and you can't help but feel that your modest, bare room is not fit to receive someone of her stature.

"I hope you are feeling well, my dear," Lady Maggie looks at you, noticing the distress on your face. You don't know if she knows about the mess in the basement. Your eyes fixate on the floor, unable to look straight at the Lady. Otherwise, you would know she has been observing you closely since she stepped in, taking in every change in your body language.

"I must request your presence at the feast tomorrow. There will be delegates sent by the King himself in attendance. People will question if the Lord is not accompanied by his wife."

"What?"

You are baffled by the news, and your tongue slips. The thought of meeting the King's people makes you uneasy. Not many of the King's council know your face, but those who do look at you with disdain. Moreover, you can't fathom why the King would send anyone here in this current state of affairs. You quickly apologize for being blunt, but the Lady doesn't seem to mind. Instead, she replies with another question.

"My dear, what do you think about this war?"

The sudden question catches you off guard. You don't know how to answer. Lady Maggie patiently waits for you. The room falls into an awkward silence. You wonder what the consequences are if your answer crosses her.

"I... I believe the Lord's cause is just."

That is all you can mutter. It is a laughable answer coming from the princess. If anyone resented House Gyllenhaal and this forced marriage, it would be you. There is no good reason for a member of the royal family to side with the man who has vowed to kill them all. But this is your genuine thought. You loathe the Lord for how he treats you, but you can't deny that he is a hero in people's eyes. On top of that, you are not the real princess and do not feel any connection to the King.

The Lady bursts into an uncharacteristic fit of laughter. You can't tell if she is mocking you or truly feeling amused by your answer.

"Clever little kitten." Lady Maggie murmurs to herself, seemingly satisfied with what she heard.

"The King has suggested a truce with House Gyllenhaal. Thus, his majesty has sent delegates here as a gesture of peace. That is why I would love for the princess to personally welcome the convoy. After all, you were the key that led us to this peace."

"Of course, my Lady. It would be my honor."

You don't want to meet whoever the King sent, but you have no choice. Despite the Lady's courtesy, this is an order. Someone like you has no place to voice your opinion. Within these walls, hers and the Lord's will is absolute.

"Has Jacob done anything to offend you?" The Lady suddenly changes the subject. The tone of her voice softens.

"No, my Lady." You still need to get used to hearing Lady Maggie call the Lord by his given name. Your mind wanders to the time he noticed you weren't wearing warm enough and the time he saved you from the horse. You realize this would be an excellent opportunity to be in the Lady's good graces.

"The Lord has actually been very kind."

Although not to the "princess."

"That's good, then. If Jacob does something unbecoming for the head of the House, you can always come to me."

"There is one thing I would like you to remember." Lady Maggie stands up from her chair and approaches you. She reaches out and runs her slender fingers on your cheek, making you flinch. Her fingers are cool to the touch but don't make you uncomfortable.

"My brother may not be tender towards you, but you are still a lady of our House. Therefore, do not appear weak or easily intimidated. Do not let anyone think that House Gyllenhaal is to be trifled with."

The fingertips brush ever so lightly on your face. Then, not sparing a second, the Lady quickly returns to her chamber, leaving the ghost of her presence lingering on your cheek.

Lady Maggie sits before her brother, her expression stern and disapproving as she chastises him for yesterday. The early morning light filters into the room through the window behind her, casting a golden glow on the scene. The Lord listens quietly to her scolding, his head slightly tilted, showing little remorse. Despite her reprimands, he can't help but find comfort in the rays of sunlight that warm his skin. His mood seems to have improved from the past few days of sulking.

The Lady takes a long sip of her morning tea after she feels like she has done venting. She can absolutely complain until her brother's ears fall off, but there are more pressing matters concerning the King's recent move. And you, the Lord's wife.

"The old pig demands a truce?"

The Lord mulls over the news his sister has told him about, not caring to hide his contempt for the King. Lady Maggie nods and quietly hands her brother the letter detailing the King's proposal.

"What is he planning now? He sent us a fraud, but he still wants to pretend she is the princess?" The Lord expresses disgust as his eyes scan the scroll ridden with false flattery.

"The King thinks he outsmarts us, sending an illegitimate daughter, but he has dug himself into a hole. The seaport was opened again under the condition of a marriage between Lord Gyllenhaal and the royal princess. What happens if words get out that the old pig failed to honor the terms of our demand?" The Lady asks, sharing her brother's scorn.

"The port is under Gyllenhaal's control. Betraying us means he would risk our retaliation. But there is no reason for him to go this far... unless the girl has other uses besides being a decoy."

"Perhaps she was ordered to take my life." The Lord speaks as he remembers the gleaming dagger underneath your pillow.

"Unlikely. If the girl was an agent, she should at least make an attempt to get closer to you, not run around like a lost kitten." The Lady stares into the golden liquid in her cup. There is no telling what she is thinking about. Lady Maggie's lips tighten into a thin smile before she replies.

"No need to do anything rash for now. My eyes are on her. The girl is harmless."

The Lord's eyebrows relax slightly at his sister's words. If the Lady says you pose no threat, he will leave you be. Not that he worries about you causing any harm. The fortress has eliminated more than a few spies and assassins. But Lord Gyllenhaal remains skeptical. He has yet to understand the intention of Lady Maggie. Without a trueborn princess, House Gyllenhaal will have no claim to the throne as their original plan dictates. The royal family and pesky nobles would never allow such a thing. A bastard daughter is more a less discardable in their eyes.

"You knew the moment she stepped foot in our Keep, did you not?" The Lord turns his gaze to his sister. Lady Maggie has lost interest in having you give the Lord an heir. If what his sister assumes is true, should the solution not be annulling this marriage and letting the girl go.

"The King agreed to our demand so easily. Naturally, I had my doubts... Say, brother. Would you willingly marry me off to your enemy?" Lady Maggie asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The Lord narrows his eyes as his question is met with another question. He stops and thinks for a moment. His eyebrows crease as his mind races through the scenario.

"No." He finally responds curtly. "I would never hand you to the enemy."

Lady Maggie nods in agreement. "Exactly. And neither would the King willingly give up his precious daughter just for a few trade routes. This bargain was risky from the start."

"So why keep her here?"

"Her illegitimate status is not ideal. But a bastard she may be, the girl is still the King's daughter and bears the King's mark. She is more valuable than you may think, brother." The Lady sets her teacup down.

"And one more thing. I ask that you treat your wife with honor and dignity. Regardless of who she used to be, she is married to you, as witnessed by the Gods."

The Lord scoffs at Lady Maggie's request. He finds it ironic that you avoid him like the plague, yet it was his sister that led you to be bound in this unfortunate union. He wonders what his dear sister would ask of him if you were the actual princess. Perhaps he must force himself on a drugged-up wife until you produce a child or something worse. Despite her talks of honor and dignity, Lord Gyllenhaal knows his own kin enough to know she is not above using despicable means to achieve her goals.

"You do not know where her loyalty lies." The Lord retorted. He does not feel obliged to be kind to the King's blood, bastard or not.

"Do not let your anger cloud your judgment. I know you are still mourning, but the girl is not to blame for what happened." Lady Maggie sighs. The topic clearly ticks her brother as the calm atmosphere is destroyed. She knows mentioning the past upsets him but has grown impatient with the Lord's constant brooding over a woman he spent a few weeks with.

A woman whose face he cannot even recall because at the time, his eyesight was temporarily lost due to an infection, having been imprisoned in a dark and filthy place for too long.

"Keep your nose out of my affairs, sister." Lord Gyllenhaal snaps.

The Lord stands up as he has done talking. He pulls the mahogany door open to find you standing there, wide-eyed and petrified at what you have overheard.

"How much did you hear?" The Lord's brows knit together as he questions you in a menacing voice. His pulsating vein on his temple tells you he is not too happy. You open your mouth to explain but can only gasp for air. The apprehension is simply too much. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see he has closed his fingers around the dagger by his side, ready to slit your throat if you can't give a satisfactory answer.

"Lower your voice. I called her here." The Lady speaks up from her seat.

You grip the front of the new gown until blood is drained from your knuckles. The last thing you remember is the steward told you Lady Maggie had requested your presence. You had presumed the Lady wanted to speak to you about the meeting with the royal delegates. But you did not expect to hear the Lord and Lady openly discussing your true identity. This whole time, they've known you are an imposter.

"Sorry to make you wait. Come." Lady Maggie calls to you with an ever-present smile as if nothing has happened. You swear you almost cry. The Lady could not possibly ask you to just squeeze your way past the Lord, could she?

Hearing Lady Maggie's reassurance is good enough for the terrifying man before you. He steps back and flicks his head towards the Lady, signaling that you are allowed to enter. You mutter a greeting to the Lord before walking in, keeping your head as low as you can, fearing it will be taken off your neck if you don't. You don't need to look to know the Lord's gaze is burning on your back as you approach the Lady.

"Beautiful." Lady Maggie compliments. "This one fits her perfectly. Do you not think so, my Lord?"

Her brother completely ignores her question. He follows you back in, closing the door behind him and trapping you between the two of them. The Lady pays no mind to his deathly silence. She asks you to take a seat opposite of her. The Lord leans on the wall, eyeing you like a cat watching a mouse unable to escape from an empty pot it has fallen in.

"Let's start from the beginning and properly introduce ourselves, shall we?"

Lady Maggie's smile vanishes.

"Who are you?"

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