#jake gyllenhaal x daughter reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jakegooglyeyes · 11 months

Text

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

45 notes · View notes

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*

161 notes · View notes

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

941 notes · View notes

rachaelswrites · 3 years

Text

Reader Moodbards

Updated: 12/07/2021

(All images from Pinterest. I made sure to not use as many photos that would depict what the reader looks like to keep it inclusive and as reader insert)

All readers from my “Who I Write For” list are listed (if there are any that aren’t here that you want to see, send an ask!)

Evans!reader

Stan!reader

Gubler!reader

Gyllenhaal!reader

Hiddleston!reader

Holland!reader

Larson!reader

Barber!reader

Drysdale!reader

Teen!avenger!reader

Barnes!reader

Rogers!reader

Stucky!reader

Romanoff!reader

Maximoff!reader

Lokidottir!reader

Reid!reader

Prentiss!reader

Hotchner!reader

Jareau!reader

Morgan!reader

Alvez!reader

233 notes · View notes

rnebbie · 3 years

Text

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 :)

402 notes · View notes

angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

Text

The Stolen Moments: Chapter 5 - Never Be Angry

A/N & WC - The final installment! I do not know Tom or Jake, nor do I claim to. This is a work of fiction. Series masterlist. 8.4k words.

Warnings - Protective parenting, almost attempted violence?, angry dad!jake, himbo Tom, Ryan to the rescue while being crazy, Jake being an oversharing parent, talk of sex, sexual health, pregnancy and birth control, smut: semi-public touching. 18+

Summary - When morning arrives, neither you or Tom are ready for the fallout about to be caused by your dad's discovery, but these stolen moments are about to become your life at long last: can your dad accept that after all you've been through?

At long last, Jake thinks, things quieten down, and no more footsteps echo through the floorboards. Some indecipherable whispered words, followed by some soft snores, and he unravels himself from the duvet cocoon.

“It’s getting late, isn’t it Atticus?” he coos, scruffing the only dog still awake behind his ears. Atticus, naturally, says nothing in return, but looks up at Jake with those big, imploring eyes. “I know buddy, I’ll go see her now.”

Keeping his footsteps light, he makes his way across the house and to his daughters room. The door is pulled shut, only the faintest sliver of an image visible through the crack, the moonlight casting shadows on her sleeping image. She looks cold, though, with bare shoulders and no blanket to cover her. Upon instinct, he pushes open the door ever so slowly, cautious for it not to creak, and slips in through the gap, his foot placements careful. In this moment, he just sees her for what she always has been, his little girl. So small, so angelic, so breakable.

“Heya pumpkin,” he whispers, crouching down at her side of the bed.

He lays a gentle hand on her arm, her flesh cold, goosebumps rising beneath his touch. She’s freezing. With the other hand, he opens her bedside drawer and ferrets around for a jumper, pulling it out.

“Hm, dad?”

She begins to stir. Eyes half lidded, she looks up at him.

“I’m sorry to wake you, sugarplum, go back to sleep, just put this jumper on first.”

“Dad…” she protests, voice feeble, actions even weaker.

Prying her head and shoulders from the pillow, though, she manages to get the jumper onto her cami-clad frame and her body settled back down in its lethargic state. She hums noncommittally, a tired smile on her face, a guilty one at that. There’s a bruise forming on her neck, one that Jake eyes. He always wants his daughter to be open about things like this, boys and all, but he knows well enough that this tends to be a mother’s area of expertise. Nevertheless, in the morning, he’ll work on getting her to be more open with him, putting out an ice pack for it, maybe buying her some more concealer, or just reminding her that she doesn’t have to be ashamed of anything. He won’t be angry, he’ll never be angry with her.

Kissing her forehead, he speaks very quietly, “Go back to sleep pumpkin. Sleep tight.”

Much to his chagrin or relief, he can’t tell which right now, her mysterious partner is still asleep, his head buried into the mattress with the pillow obscuring his features.

“I’m sorry I disobeyed you dad, I really like him.”

“Shh,” he quietens her, stroking a hand through her hair. “We’ll talk in the morning, don't worry, sugarplum. Love you.”

“Love you.”

And while he’s still kneeling there beside her, she’s out like a light. He quietly makes his own way out, but has to remind himself with each step that she’s an adult. He paces the hallway unwittingly while trying to make his way back to his room, repeating the same things in his head.

Remember your parenting morals, he tells himself, remember your ethos. Let her come to you, let her trust you, let her be her own person.

These things, these lessons are more important than anything, and they’ve maintained his relationship with his daughter for almost twenty years. One incident with a boy won’t ruin that, no matter how much he frets for her wellbeing. Every second of every day, when working or relaxing, at home or out with friends, she’s on his mind, his little girl, now spreading her wings of independence. An hour later, he finally crashes, Boo and Atticus in bed by his side.

However, only five hours later, his alarm goes off. Blending a smoothie with all of the doors shut, he drinks it, and tugs on his workout clothes. Y/N is still asleep, as is her mysterious beau, but that doesn’t ease his fears. Does he even dare to leave them in the house alone? Well, he has to go for a run and get some groceries; perhaps picking up a few extras wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world.

———

Y/N begins to stir as she hears movement around her, feels a cold emptiness on the bed beside her, and then the jingle of a belt.

“Tom?” she mumbles, though it comes out as more of an incoherent noise.

“Shh, go back to sleep sweetheart, I have to go and see Harry.”

“Tommy, no,” she protests, making a small grabbing motion with her hand.

After he came to see her in the night, she was perfectly aware somewhere in the back of her mind that Jake hadn’t gone out that night. No way would he have been able to clean her room (and the rest of the house, apparently, judging by the bathroom looking a damn sight better than it normally does) and keep the dogs at bay, and be home, in his pyjamas, to see her off to bed before she was even properly asleep if he’d been out: only possible deduction? She needs to be absolutely mortified.

Briefly she contemplated asking Jake to stay and sit for a little while when he came in to see her, seeing as Tom was asleep and had snatched all of his warmth away from her, curling himself into her mattress and hiding under her pillow as though he knew Jake would be coming in. She might’ve done what he did the night before, asked him to tell her something good as she fell asleep, perhaps about a new job he’s auditioning for or something he saw on his run, but she decided against it, and on the tip of her tongue it was to ask him to read ot her like he used to. Countless nights when she couldn’t sleep, he’d read books to her, his favourite American classics, books like Divergent or Harry Potter that she wanted to read, but her favourite always was Great Gatsby, and remembering a single phrase from that just fueled her desire to hear it again. Only, she couldn’t. His talking would wake Tom (he’s a light sleeper, she remembers as much from the days they’d be on night shoots and he’d be knackered and nap on set, only to flinch awake with the slightest movement) which was just generally unviable, lest Tom have his head ripped off by his mate. How he didn’t recognise the bathroom and the hallway, though, is a miracle she’ll forever thank God for.

Faintly, in her own faint slumber, she heard the door go twice, the second time about half an hour ago, and then ten minutes ago, the shower went off. Which only means one thing, and it isn’t going to be easy to work out.

“Tom, you can’t go. Dad’s home.”

“What?!” he hisses. “I thought you said he’d be out!”

“Last night, yeah, but he came in to say goodnight to me, and he just got out the shower. When did you wake up?”

“Just before I started getting dressed, Y/N.”

He sounds tired, exasperated, even though he’s likely only the latter considering he slept like a log and it’s now considerably late if her dad is back from his jog. She pulls her phone out to check the actual time, but her attention is instead drawn to the dozen texts flooding her screen.

Uncle Ryan: OH MY GOD YOU SLEPT WITH TOM?! Yr dad texted and said so, but I didn’t think he’d DEFILE my bby niece on the first date. Wait, I don’t care abt that. How was it? Was it gooood? Were you safe? Love you kid! Give me all the details u can’t give yr dad ;) I’M KIDDING tell Blake instead. does he know it’s Tom yet? I can’t keep it in much longer. LOVE U LOTS LIKE JLLY TOTS <3<3<3<3

Uncle Hugh: Your dad said you had a boy to stay over. How are you kiddo? Future with him? H :)

Blake: Sorry about Ryan hon, how was your date? He says it ended with a sleepover, all the juicy details. <3

Taylor: Why did Jake text me asking me to lecture you girl-to-girl on safe sex? Did you have a boy over last night? I’m proud of you babe!

Aunt Maggie: Don’t scare your dad like that, you know what he’s like. Who's the mystery boy? All the best from us, come and see us with the gossip and an update on college when you fancy.

Grandma: Do I spy a son in law? G-ma <3

Pops: I hope your father meant to send that other text to someone other than myself. Please don’t be pregnant, I’m too young to be a great grandad.

“Why are you smiling, baby?”

She hums, stretching her arms, pushing herself a little more upright. “My uncle’s going crazy, dad told him you stayed over.”

She holds her phone out with Ryan’s texts on the screen, and even Tom lets a small chuckle slip out as he’s buttoning up his shirt.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that right?”

“No.” She frowns, a flush heating her cheeks. “Come back to bed if I’m that pretty.”

As much as her low cut jumper is tempting him, and her endless legs poking out from beneath the comforter, he keeps his resolve firm, and stands his ground. “Your dad's in, I don’t want him to catch us.”

“Not even one kiss?” She pouts.

His smile meets his eyes now, any appall or shame evaporated, and her bed looks so damn comfy. He captures her lips softly, sucking on her lower lip and eliciting a delectable moan that only encourages him to delve deeper, deeper, until he’s breathing entirely her air and he only holding himself up by his forearms on her bed spread, her nails raking down his back, her legs wrapped around his waist, drawing his pelvis ever closer to her. He could never say no to this. The bedroom door slams open, and the clack of paws on the floor alerts Tom, snapping him up from Y/N’s body. She closes her legs upon instinct, smiling, relieved to see it’s only Boo Radley.

“You have a dog? He’s so cute!”

“Two, Atticus!”

The alsatian joins them not a moment later, wagging his tail and hitting the door. Boo is happily cradled in Tom’s arms, though, and being held correctly for once. Tom could swear he’s seen these two before, they look so familiar, but perhaps she’s shown him a picture and he just... forgot. Still, he can’t refute the niggling in the back of his mind that even someone as oblivious as himself can identify as suspicious.

“Pumpkin, are you up? D’you want a breakfast burrito?”

Well, if she wasn’t up before she certainly is now, his bellowing carrying through the entire house.

“Just a minute dad, and yes to breakfast.” She flicks back onto her phone, another text from Ryan showing up in response to her annoyed: say nothing dude! Yeah, he stayed over, it was really good. I’ll call u later :) <3

Uncle Ryan: Yr dad needs to know, please pumpkin! He loves you so much and he deserves to know if yr fucking his friend, even if said friend doesn’t know yr related. You should tell him too. I’m not one for the ‘right thing’ but you know it is. Only if you see a future tho. Can I tell him? Soften the blow?

Ok, Ryan is far too excited about this. The awful yet delightful thing is that she does, and that’s what’s making this exponentially more difficult than it should be. She wants to argue, dispute what he’s saying, but every word is true.

Y/N: no!!! I’ll do it, speak later.

“Make that two!” she shouts, and turns to Tom, kneeling on the floor, fussing the dogs with great joy. “You’re staying for breakfast, I have to tell you something.”

“But—”

“My dad doesn’t have to eat with us, but he already knows someone slept over. Get over it, spiderling.”

She smirks at her humour, getting up from the bed, but her playfulness swiftly transforms into pain, feeling the dull throb between her thighs, needing to clutch to her bedside locker to keep herself upright.

“You really didn’t play last night, did you?”

And Tom, the cocky bastard he is, takes great pleasure in responding, “No I did not. Want a hand darling?”

He supports her as she limps out of her bedroom and around the house the long way (avoiding the main hallway and the living room, just in case) and into the kitchen: spotless. There’s not a thing in sight that shouldn’t be there, no dirty dishes or dish cloths left on the counter, no dust or stains or cups in the sink. even the floor is clean from dribbled dog water and spilt biscuits.

“Dad?”

“Be there in a minute, Y/N,” he shouts, his accent forced into a broad New York one.

He’s still in disguise mode. Suddenly, she feels deceitful, and the feeling crawls over her whole body like an infection of spiders. This is all going to be a ghastly shock for the pair of them, and could potentially break their friendship, not to mention ruining her relationship with both her (hopefully) boyfriend and her treasured father. All she wanted was to be happy, to be an adult, to make her own decision on how her life will go (not that she’s never had a choice: she always has, but this one just feels worse than all the rest).

It’s unexplainable what it does to her, but her appetite is gone, despite the luscious scent of bacon and eggs filling the air.

“I think I’ll pass on the burrito,” she says, nuzzling closer into Tom’s side.

“There. There, I heard it, proper New York innit?” Tom exclaims, his London appearing.

“Can be at times.” She chuckles half heartedly.

“What’s up darling?”

Sighing, she sidles up into her usual seat at the breakfast bar: no one else has ever sat at that seat, no family, no friends, none of her dad's girlfriends. It’s always been her seat, and for some reason, that makes her rather prideful.

“Nothing, just thinking.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She reaches for the coffee cup just behind her plate, wrapping her hand around the ceramic, letting the warmth seep into her skin and bone. “No, you didn’t at a— DAD!”

Tom startles at the sudden volume, and Y/N places her hand on his arm in apology, to soothe him, the vine hairs tickling the pads of her fingers.

“What, Y/N?”

“I’ll fuckin’ swing for you when you get your ass back in here!”

Before Tom can even ask the question, she lifts her coffee mug up, revealing a stack of unsavoury packets. A morning after pill, a box of condoms, vitamin K cream, aspirin, but worst of all, an early stages pregnancy test.

Jake appears a moment later, his own cup of coffee in hand, a t-shirt clinging to his form, his beard now entirely shaved off. Apparently that’s what he was up to, ready to make a good impression. Even if it is a little patchy.

“Just want you to be safe, honey. I wasn’t sure if you used any protection or if this would be a one time thing, and I had to stop for butter and OJ on my run anyway.”

“Dad, I’m not five, I know to use protection, and you know I’m on birth control anyway!”

Tom’s surprise is palpable, donning his signature shocked face with wide eyes, clenched teeth, tensed muscles, and his head a mile away from his backwards slanted body. Not even at seeing Jake, because if he has then there are no physical signs of it, merely at the openness between them. Jake doesn’t show any sign of having seen Tom either, embedding Y/N into an even further trap.

“I wanted to be sure you didn’t make my same mistakes, you’re too young for a child, trust me, so please just take the pill, but scrap the test and stash the condoms.” He takes a pause, gulping down breath before he blathers and babbles on a little longer, those worry lines on his forehead prominent. “And I wasn’t sure how much you drank, though I hope it was nothing since you’re not legally allowed to, and if it was too much I’ll kill him for doing anything to you.”

She chuckles, watching her dad standing in the doorway, his eyes solely focussed on her too, oblivious to Tom’s presence. He brings the bottom of his shirt up, tugging the fabric from beneath, and wipes his freshly shaven jaw with it. She throws the aspirin at him.

“Dad I’m fine, I had soda and no-alcohol beer, and I won’t be pregnant but I’ll take it anyway, ok?” He nods, smiling. “Are you okay?”

He takes long strides across the cold tiles, his bare feet not even reacting as he wraps his arms around her body.

“Never better, provided you are.”

She elbows him sharply, and takes a swig of coffee, followed by a bite of her burrito. Definitely too good to turn down over stupid, petty anxieties.

“Tom?” she asks, swivelling in her stool, but he’s gone. “TOM!”

“Bathroom, babe,” he calls.

In daylight, this isn’t right. This bathroom is far too familiar, and not just from last night. The dogs know him, he’s definitely seen them and fussed them before. Something about all of this is just… off. And that dread is only confirmed when he takes a misstep in the labyrinth she calls a home, and ends up in the bottom end of the living room instead of in the back hallway to the kitchen. Just two days ago he was sitting on that sofa there, drinking beer quite happily with his friend Jake. His immediate thought is surely not the right one, Jake has a live-in PA? It wouldn’t surprise him, Jake’s just that kind of person with how much he works, he perhaps needs the organisation. But that doesn’t explain why Y/N said she hasn’t seen him for a while. Or perhaps it’s just a coincidence, or he’s going loopy. God, he hopes there’s a logical solution, because right now he’s tempted to get on the phone to Harry and get a cab home as an escape from these mind games. Not that last night wasn’t fabulous, but this is spooky.

“He’s called Tom?” Jake asks rhetorically, pouring himself a glass of water as he moves to the countertop, watching Y/N eat her breakfast. “That’s a coincidence, isn’t it?”

“No, lots of people are called Tom. I can think of five famous ones off the top of my head.”

Perhaps being abrasive isn’t the answer right now, but it was her default answer, and now she can’t take it, or her wide doe eyes of shock, back.

“Sweetheart, I need to head back soon, but I’m lost.”

There it is. Jake’s face pales, and he drops his half-empty glass of water, savouring the sound of it breaking, because it brings his speedily whirring mind a fraction of a second of release, the sound ricocheting around the room.

“Y/N, please don’t tell me that’s who I think it is,” Jake says, threateningly calm.

His answer is handed to him on a silver platter when she sheepishly looks down at her burrito, and takes a big bite.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you Tom!” he screams.

Tom then appears in the doorway, having followed the sound of the ear splitting cry that could frankly break glass, but his heart only syncs when his brain goes dead, inconveniently at the very second he meets Jake’s eyes.

“Jake, I— I’m so sorry… I had no idea she was your daughter,” Tom stammers.

All the colour in his face is gone.

“You knew she was someone’s daughter and you still slept with her!”

“Dad!” she scolds, but it’s too late, and he’s off on a run around the house, chasing a slightly sprightlier Tom around the house with frequent verbal threats along the lines of murder.

Shit.

Concern nags at Y/N while she listens to the thundering footsteps on the wooden floors, the muffled sounds on the carpet, only for it to grow louder again, the screams, the threats, the yelps when Jake gets too close… she scarfs down her burrito, washing it down with her coffee, and texts the only person she can think of.

Uncle Ryan, get on facetime. Dad’s lost it.

Before the text tone has even finished sending, her phone is ringing, and his face is on her screen, eager, eyes wide and vying for attention.

“Ryan I swear, talk some sense to h—”

“Where is he? What’s happening?” he asks excitedly. Far too excitedly for the circumstances, but that’s Ryan in a nutshell.

She thinks his cheeks must hurt from how wide his smile is. She narrows her eyes and forces a half smile as she pushes herself off her seat, wincing visibly at the dull ache that was previously dormant between her thighs. It keeps on as she walks slowly out the kitchen.

“You had sex, missy!” Ryan says, pointing out the obvious, “ I thought your dad was kidding… Either that, or you sprained an ankle.”

“Nope, real sex Uncle Ryan, I’m twenty years old, I have sex.”

“LALALALALA I’m your uncle I don’t wanna hear! But Blake does,” he adds with a waggle of his eyebrows. This man is insane.

Affronted, she gasps, pulling her face of feigned appal that he’s so used to by now, “You brought it up!”

“Just— show me your dad.”

The scene is worse than before, charging between the bedrooms now. Jake has a pillow, and both of the dogs. Atticus is agile in weaving between two men, his paws and claws clacking on the floor with every leap and bound, his tongue hanging out his mouth as he smiles, expectant for the next run. Boo Radley, however, keeps getting trapped beneath Atticus, and has almost been trampled on by Tom twice already, only rescued by his attractive dexterity as he flings himself into a door frame to save the soft little dot. Jake looks awful. He’s already been for a run today, so his stamina is already down, and heavily told through his red face and the sweat stains on his shirt. Y/N knows Tom could keep going for hours, really, but last night apparently wore him out too, as his energy is starting to drop.

“Has he lost his mind?!” Ryan asks. “Dude’s half his age.”

“And twice his energy. Dad went on a run to the birth control store today,” she adds sarcastically, watching as Ryan’s face cracks up.

“He’s right. You need to be safer.”

“Shut up Ryan, I’m on birth control. Now are you going to help me or not?”

He nods, and she knows what’s coming intuitively, so places her phone on the nearest sideboard, and edges backwards, clicking her volume up to the maximum.

“JAKE! Leave the boy alone.”

Well, that gets their attention, seeing as Jake instantly stops running and advances towards Y/N, lifting her small frame off the floor, her feet dangling in the air.

“Why did you call Uncle Ryan?”

“You were chasing my boyfriend with a pillow,” she deadpans, searching Jake’s face for some kind of reaction.

He acquiesces, bending to kiss her forehead, “Sorry kid, I’m sorry. Can we sit?”

She nods, and back grounded, reaches to stuff her feet into her slippers, returning to find a sheepish looking Tom, his thin lips looking like they’re trapping in a frog.

“Ryan?” she asks, and he nods in response. “Yeah, he’s full on like that.”

“He’s scarier than he was as deadpool,” Tom frets, his already tenor voice cracking.

She chuckles, slipping her hand into his, “He’s very protective. Is he gone?”

“Jake cut him off, he’s in the living room.”

———

As it so turns out, she doesn’t even need to be there as she spends the next ten minutes just watching the two of them bicker, sometimes standing on the floor or the sofa, other times holding their fists up and sitting on the couch like old men, but the majority of the time they’re using the dogs to mediate. They go over the same points again and again, about how she’s Jake's daughter but that Tom really likes her, and no matter how many times she reminds them that she’s actually here, they keep going. At last, she threatens them with a call from Aunt Maggie this time, and it’s like Jake slips into ‘mature dad’ mode, which has been sorely missing since that first glimpse of Tom. In the end, it was all for nothing, as they end up just agreeing she’s legal, and to let her decide. All while forgetting she’s in the room and able to participate in such a discussion.

“Thank you! Fucking hell, that took long enough.”

Tom wraps his arm around her waist, while Jake sits on her other side and toys with her hair, holding her protectively, scowling at Tom slightly. Having had enough, she shrugs away from them both, and makes her way back into the kitchen, draining a glass of ice cold water that does nothing to alleviate her anger while waiting for them to appear, tails between their legs, and she’s not on about the dogs.

“I wondered whether either of you would tell me about you two on set, the ‘stolen moments’,” Jake announces.

“What?!”

“You don’t think I’m that stupid, do you? My daughter-slash-PA disappears at the same time you do, and she’s a hell of a lot calmer all the time on a huge set away from home where she knows no one? Come on, the hell do you take me for.”

“Dad, are you not mad?” she asks, failing to hide the bewilderment creasing her face. He can see the gears turning inside her head with every word.

“Why would I be? You found a loophole, I’m assuming, and if it was just a fling, why would you want to tell your old man that you’re going around getting off with his mate and co-star?”

“No, what? I mean I did. No sex, and you already knew him, you liked him. There was nothing in the rules about that.” Her throat makes a squeaky sound. “I just— I can’t believe you knew!”

“Well, a girl’s gotta think she’s got some secrets, hasn’t she pumpkin?” he teases, one blue eye winking, and scruffing her hair up while she pretends to slap his arm away.

“Jake, are you not angry about… that?” Tom then asks, despite his question having already been answered.

“Only a bit, but she could do a hell of a lot worse than you—and a hell of a lot better,” he whispers to Y/N under his breath, thus earning a proper slap that resounds around the room, and coaxes Boo to them. “And I know you’ll do her good.”

“I already did.” Tom says, smirking insolently.

“Yeah, about that, I’m still not happy you defiled my daughter on the first date. And that mouth on you, I’ve a mind to slap it off.”

She gasps, all but sobbing. Her face turns as red as a tomato. “I thought you were out, that’s the only reason we came back here.”

“I was supposed to be,” Jake shrugs “but I was too worried about you. Out in the big city on your first proper date with a boy I thought I didn’t know, I needed to be on your beckon call. And anyway, Atticus, Boo Radley and I had some TV to catch up with.”

“Dad I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be. While you were out, I checked your birth control was still in date, put an extra condom into your top drawer, and went out this morning to get you this,” he reinforces the fact again, and pushes the morning after pill across the breakfast bar to her. Again. “I expect to see you take it. Believe you me, you are not ready for a baby.”

“Thanks dad, I know I’m not. You’re the best.” Tears begin welling, stinging in her eyes. If there was a prize for dad of the year, decade, century, millennia even, Jake would win.

“I still hate you for fucking my daughter though.”

“I didn't know she was your daughter, dude!”

“How could you not, Tom?” she asks, “it’s not hard to work out, look at everything that happened over on press and when we were filming, and these few days you’ve been in the city.”

A brainwave crashes over Tom, and she can see what he’s thinking very very clearly.

“No, none of my dad’s public girlfriends are my mom. Don’t even speak.”

Except, it didn’t take long for all of them to scare, to fret, to realise they were too young to be tied down, to become a step mother before they’ve even lived themselves. They didn’t want to be tied down to a child, was the reality, but neither Jake nor Y/N could blame her for that, and now they’re just distant memories.

“Her mum wasn’t famous. Just someone I knew at college. I hope she’ll make better choices than I did, and it says a lot that she chose you as her first serious boyfriend then.”

“Y— you’re serious about me?”

She swallows thickly “Yeah, I’ve liked you since that day you kissed me on set.”

———

That takes her back: Venice. Their first day. They’d built a whole set outside on a beautiful river, and erected cordons stretching for miles in order to fit the massive cast and crew. Due to the heat, an empty building undergoing renovation had been allocated for a cool down and for everyone to unwind between takes. They’d been all through Prague already, which had been incredible, with Tom and Jake always buying her food and drinks to keep her cool and calm, and there were plenty of parties that she was able to let loose in, not to mention a very luxurious, very comfortable hotel.

Venice was much calmer, much sunnier, more pious, cleaner, beguiling almost, and their next stop, Y/N didn’t know, but she was extremely excited.

Around the back of this building, just five minutes drive from the hotel and backing onto a beautiful garden of serenity with golden flowers, the sun beaming down on them in spades. Jake was taking a nap inside as they were filming a scene with Tom and Zendaya, but Y/N couldn’t sleep. She was too warm, too excited, too eager to learn more and take in all of this, to absorb the beauty of the city. Out back, she was sitting in the grass just beside the patio, milling amongst the flowers, slathering sunscreen on while donning her dad's sunglasses, she was taken away into a world of her own. All the shouts of ‘cut!’, the lines, every movement of the cameras were heard through the archway connecting the building to the garden, an alley for them to escape in moments of need.

“That’s a wrap for scene seventeen, take five!” the director called.

The words bypassed Y/N like faint background music, as she just lay there, relaxing.

“Mind if I sit?” an augmented English accent said softly, followed by a half cough.

“There’s water on the patio, get a glass.”

He did, she heard him fidget around with the glasses and the jug, sloshing water everywhere, cursing when he spilt it on his hands.

“What are you doing out here? Not out front with all the action?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, watching the clouds move by, something she could actually see here, unlike in the city, the Italian sun heavy as it was beating down on her.

“Jake’s asleep, I’m able to catch a break, have a look.”

She pointed up to the sky, and then the world around her, so quintessentially Italian.

“The view’s beautiful,” he cooed.

Only, when she looked up and pushed her sunglasses off her face, she saw that Tom’s chocolate brown orbs weren’t looking at the view or the sky at all, but actually at her, his eyes fixed on her lazy smile, her twinkling eyes, her floaty sundress with the thin shoulder straps.

Instantly, her cheeks began to heat, blood rushing to flush them red: she giggled. “Thank you.”

To hopefully hide it, she pulled her sunglasses back down from her head, or rather tried to, only for the nose pads to become tangled in her hair. She inwardly cursed her dad for giving her the genetics which cause such clumsy situations, but swiftly moved on, pouting her lower lip out as she peered up, desperate to see what she was doing, when Tom appeared beside her, placing his glass down on the grass beside them.

“Let me help,” he offered, kneeling, “Jake’s?”

She nodded meekly, as best as she could, but the metal tugged on her hair, causing her to wince.

“Hey hey hey,” he whispered, “Don’t move, just let me—”

He began to fidget around with it, pulling as gently as he could at her hair from the roots, prying the locks from the joints of the nose pads. Every so often, she’d whimper, and every time, he’d extend a genuine apology, his soft eyes detaching their focus and looking into hers instead.

“There.” At last he plucked the glasses away, and slipped them into her hand.

“Thank you.”

“No worries, can I sit?”

She nodded, and lay back on the grass, spreading her hair out in a halo around her on the soft green grass. Tom joined her with little reluctance, lying partly on his side, propping himself up on his elbow, holding his head up with his hand in his soft brown locks, observing Y/N. Every movement of her chest with her breath, every slight smile, every flutter of her lashes beneath the tinted shades, every point of her finger and extension of her arm to show him something in the distance or a cloud in the sky. It was endearing, her excitement, but he was always more interested in her.

“What are you looking at?” she asked at last, laughing slightly at his intensely concentrated face. “And aren’t you supposed to be on set?”

“You. I’d rather be with you.”

“Tommy…” she breathed, turning on her side to face him.

It didn’t last, she was barely in the position for half a minute before he was leaping onto her, pulling even more at the spaghetti strap that had slipped off her shoulder and was now brushing the enticing skin of her arm. His lips attached themselves to hers, sucking the cute, surprised gasp from her, stealing all the breath from her lungs in the process.

The way he kissed her, so tenderly yet with so much passion, his lips gliding over hers, his tongue nudging eagerly at her lower lip as something else nudged just as eagerly lower down.

She acquiesced, submitted to him more willingly than she’s ever done… well, anything before. Her dad would be absolutely ripping his hair out to see this, and not even the aspect of ‘my co-star is snogging my daughter’, but rather ‘my daughter is doing something without argument’.

“Can I?” Tom asked breathlessly, moving his lips to a hidden part of her neck, his hand hovering suggestively over her chest.

She rolled onto her back and slipped off her other strap before reaching around to grip Tom’s hair, milling it between her fingers. The hair stylists were gonna have a field day with her if they ever found out…

“Please,” she gasped, arching her back off the floor and into him. “Just, be discreet, someone might come, and I don’t have a bra on.”

He lifted his head up, his eyes wide and lust-blown, wanton, his lips swollen from their bruising assault on hers and her skin. Then, he had the audacity to lick his lips.

“Naughty you, going commando.”

“Anything to make the boys wink…” she trailed off, gasping when he pinched her nipple through her dress, “You in particular.”

“How is that allowed? No bra at work?”

“Z does it. Why should it matter whether I wear a bra or not? It’s their problem if they’re looking at my tits anyway, and it’s too warm for any accidents in that area.”

“Is it?” He smirks, pulling at her pertbuds, eager to run his tongue over them. That can wait for next time.

“Bloody beautiful darling.”

“Just, kiss me Tom.”

He did just that, palming at her breasts, tweaking her sensitive nipples under the material if he felt particularly daring for a moment, his heart skipping a beat with every jolt of electricity that passed from her skin to his. Their tongues danced at a tantalising pace, so heavily opposed to the desperate rutting of his hips against her core, her legs wrapped around his hips, their lips never separating, scarcely even for air.

But every moment has to come to an end.

“It’s been fifteen minutes, where the fuck is Tom?” Harry exclaimed, his voice carrying through the archway.

Y/N’s body seized up, going rigid against him, her tongue stopping dead in Tom’s mouth with her lips still glued to him. Somehow, at three pm, while working, he still tasted of beer.

“Your job to find him kiddo,” Zendaya teased, her slender figure waltzing past the archway when Y/N allowed her eyes to turn skyward for a moment.

“Get off me before he catches you,” she hissed, unravelling her legs, pushing gently at Tom’s shoulders, pulling her lips away from his.

She struggled to ignore, even momentarily, the emptiness where his body was on top of her, his mouth tasting her, his hand covering her.

“Why would it be bad if we get caught?”

“Because I’m Jake’s PA, and younger than you are. Now sort your hair out, you still look like Peter, and you won’t be fired on my account.”

He winked at her, pushing himself up, and adjusting his clothes. “If anything it’s the other way around.

“Jake wouldn’t let me be fired, dickhead,” she protested. “I’m too good a PA.”

“Yeah,” he smirked. “I bet he’d love to learn that you’re off making out with Spider-Man in your spare time.”

Her face fell, her lips aching for him. “He can’t find out, Tom, swear you won’t tell him, or anyone else on set.”

“What's in it for me?” he asks, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “I bet you’re a pretty good fuck.”

“If you’re always this cocky, you’ll be lucky to ever find out,” she snapped back confidently.

“Well, if I keep my mouth shut, can we do this again?” he questioned again, subdued.

This was the first time he’d let his guard drop, hope shining through, no hyper-sexual bastard, no superstar asshole attitude; just Tom. And that’s who she likes, and always did. Deep down, something fluttered in the pit of her stomach, something new, unfamiliar, but it was more than pleasant. Tom, when he’s just being himself, is charming and suave and so caring, a true gentleman, so perhaps there are worse people to sneak around with.

“Yeah, definitely. You know where to find me.”

His Cheshire cat-like smile grew until it must have been pulling at his cheeks, “Oh yes I do.”

He leant down and kissed her one final time, smirking as he walked off, far too smug in his actions, his peppy walk filled with swagger. Despite his attitude, at least his ass looked good, so she admired it from afar, only letting excitement control her actions in flailing limbs and squeals of excitement after he was out of sight completely. For the rest of the trip, a Tom induced smile was never once wiped from her face.

———

Her face glows with heat, the memory eliciting a giggle, a sweet sound, one that sends something new, emotional shooting through Tom. Jake, however, still doesn’t look happy, resting his arms on the countertop, his dark brows low and furrowed over his angry blue eyes, cooking up a thunderous storm.

“I saw that. you’re lucky I didn’t come down and kill you in true Quentin style.”

“Shit,” Y/N curses, burying her head in her hands, “how much did you see?”

“Just the final kiss before you left, Harry’s scream woke me.”

Tom holds his hand up briefly, the cuffs on his sleeves clinging to his bicep as he does so. She laughs a little, forcing his hand down as he cuts in, “And you knew the whole time? Why did you never get angry? Or mention it to us?”

He shrugs, “She wasn’t serious with you. Once again, a loophole, and I trusted her judgement. Perhaps that trust has weaned considering you fucked him, Y/N but oh well.”

“Stop being so crass dad!” she scolds, smacking him then with a tea towel, catching his freshly shaven face.

“Oh, while I remember, is my face ok?” Jake asks, completely stealing Y/N’s attention momentarily.

Standing on her tiptoes, she cups his jaw, forcefully turning his head, running her thumbs over the remaining stubble. She pokes him in three places.

“It’s a bit patchy there but other than that you’re good to go. I didn’t mean for you to shave it all off at once.”

“Well, you didn’t specify that, sugarplum, so I did it all today, probably why it came out patchy,” she says, and turns to Tom, “You should’ve heard the rumours.”

“There were rumours? I didn’t know there were rumours,” Tom panics.

“Harry knew. Just ask him. The only person I didn’t want to know was dad, other than that, I didn’t care.”

Tom takes a deep breath, in through his nose, holding it, blowing it out through his mouth with a slight whistle; what he’d always do before an intensely emotional scene. “If it helps, Jake, I really like Y/N and I’d never take advantage of her. I already told Mr Reynolds this, b— but you should hear it too.”

“Aww,” she coos, her face falling into one of sweet, drunken infatuation, “You really mean it?”

“Of course I do. In all honesty I… I wanted to ask you out the whole time we were away, but the whole time I was scared he’d snap my neck in half, especially on press…” he takes a beat, half smirking: he knows just how to rile Jake up right now, while also simultaneously dropping his defenses. “They determine what’s couth and uncouth,” Tom mocks.

Excitedly, Jake jumps up and down and screams, “I had to bite my tongue to stop myself saying ‘my daughter decides what’s couth and uncouth’!”

“And I would’ve corrected him.”

“Yes you would, pumpkin.”

Jake kisses her temple, but she turns away, and into Tom instead.

“Dad out of the question, what d’ya say?”

“I like you, of course I do.”

“No bluff?”

“No bluff.” He chuckles. “Cards on the table.”

Another pun, one that takes her back long ago to their poker nights. Good Lord she’s never had a migraine quite like it. The lot of them, all playing poker: Jake, Tom, Harry, Jacob, Zendaya, Y/N; except, she fell asleep around midnight after their third game, woken every time they screamed and tossed lager everywhere in their joy. They all did wonder why Jake ended up carrying Y/N to bed instead of Tom, especially if they all had the inkling they were sneaking around together. It was fun, Tom taught her how to bluff, and she earned twenty euros. She also nearly exposed her true identity multiple times, though, which wasn’t a highlight and set her nerves right on edge.

“Can I?” he whispers, her eager nod enough of a response for him to lean in, brush the flushed skin of her cheeks with the rough pads of his thumbs, and trap her lips in a wanton kiss.

It’s sweet, lingering, but Jake’s gruff cough sounds distantly behind them, “Dad still here, pumpkin.”

Her hands on Tom’s shoulders, she nudges him away, curling her hair behind her ear sheepishly. “Sorry, dad.”

“It’s ok honey.”

This, innovatively, is the moment Tom decides to puzzle everything together, and paint on his bewildered face, his wry eyebrows cocking at a certain angle as he eyes Jake imperiously. With a certain possession, he winds his arms around Y/N, and pulls her to him.

“I— I’m sorry I just cannot see you being a good or responsible dad at all. Did you do the baby things?”

“From the day she was born, I was the only one there,” Jake tells him impatiently, drumming his fingers on the countertop. What does Tom think he is? “I fed and changed and bathed her, raised her from when she was able to fit into my one hand. I did everything, and I wouldn't change a day for the world.”

“Apart from maybe this one.”

“Yes, definitely. The past twelve hours, for sure.”

“I already said sorry!” Y/N whines, turning away and trying to straighten out her thoughts between all the memories and complicated feelings swirling around within her. If anyone else has been in this position before and left with themself still intact, they must be a damn saint, because the only possible thing she can currently think of to say, to protect her heart from damage, is: “Well, Tom. You’re mine.”

“I am?”

“Mine,” she growls, kissing him again, softer this time, despite biting his lip as she draws away, her lips tasting of him, the pressure still there after she draws away.

Jake takes a stride. “And if you’re hers, that also makes you mine, so I suppose you’re now a sort of son-in-law, if I’ll be seeing you around here more often.”

“No, please God no,” Tom pleads, the broad London prevalent in his words as he shifts uncomfortably. “I mean yes, I’ll be around if she wants me here, but nooo. Can we just stay friends, Jake? I swear I’ll never hurt her—”

“I know,” Jake assures, “Y/N is my only daughter, I love her more than anything else, more than you’ll ever know, and if you break her heart or upset her in any way I will kill you.” He takes a longer pause than he probably should after such a threat, but as Tom gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, they realise the message and reality of the promise, not threat, is sinking in, because Jake genuinely would kill Tom, should anything happen to Y/N; he’d hurt anyone, should they hurt his little pumpkin, that much has always been the case. “But I trust you, as my friend, and I trust my little girl's judgement.”

Taking Jake's hand in hers, even as she’s nuzzled into Tom’s muscular side, his breaths echoing through her ears, she traces the veins. The absence of a ring is striking. Jake’s always said he wants to marry, but he’s never found the right woman. He was never scared, the way he says in interviews; they are. They don’t want the responsibility of a daughter, and with his most recent girlfriend, especially not a daughter just five years younger than she is. That’s why they didn’t work.

Y/N knows she’s always been a burden on her dad, dragging his career down, stopping him from finding true love, and every day she hates herself a little bit for it. Never has she wanted to prevent her dad from doing anything, and he’s always assured her that she’s the best thing that ever happened to him, but that doesn’t ease the pain of seeing him so alone when he’s at that point where he needs someone. Soon, she’ll be moving out, after she’s got her degree, and though she has no plans of moving out of the city, ever, Jake’s never lived alone. Most of the time she was at school, he’d be working, or staying with a girlfriend, or having mates over for a lads night, or pissing Maggie off by sleeping on her couch. He’d only spend the odd night alone with just the dogs. He can’t do that now, he needs the companionship, and maybe now he can see that she’s willing to settle down with a good man who’ll take care of her the right way, Jake will finally allow himself that same chance, to find the woman he’s always dreamed of. That’s all she can hope for. Focussing on his ring finger, she twines her fingers with his, and holds his hand, feeling the hairs on the back soft beneath her touch.

“I love you, dad.” She sighs, her eyes welling with tears of sincerity, squeezing her dad's hand with all her might.

“I love you more, pumpkin.”

“Never be angry, please, but Tom’s my prince now. Is that ok?”

Jake heaves a sigh, pondering over his words for a moment before he’s sidling up next to them, embracing them both in his bulky arms. She knows he’ll say yes, she knows he’ll love her and accept her anyway, accept her relationship, let her make her own mistakes, but that doesn’t make this conversation any easier. Hurting her dad is the last thing she wants to happen, especially as she practically sees his heart break behind his ocean eyes. She wilts, her grip on him the only thing to keep her grounded. The way any father would say it, single fathers especially, Y/N truly is Jake’s whole world, his entire motivation, his heart and his soul and his conscience, the one who keeps him in check, the one who always takes care of him. She needs to take care of someone else now, though, and as a tear drops down his freshly shaven cheek, he realises that it really is okay, because despite it all, she’ll always be his little girl.

“Yeah, that’s okay.” His voice breaks, betraying him, becoming a faint whisper, “Anything, as long as you’re happy.”

74 notes · View notes

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

481 notes · View notes

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

2K notes · View notes

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.

187 notes · View notes

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?"

Tag List:

@looloolily

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

69 notes · View notes