#gyllenhaalstories answers

[gyllenhaalstories]

COUNT IT DOWN — JAKE GYLLENHAAL

summary: jake grunts. jake grunts a lot. jake grunts very loudly. do i need to say more?

warnings: smut (semi public sex, quickie, fingering, penetration, orgasm control, creampie). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2920

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i can't get the sound of jake's grunts out of my head (not that i want to anyway) 🥵 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"9, 10, 11, 12..."

You sighed. They had been counting to twenty so many times over, they probably hit the million mark by now.

"13, 14, 15, 16..."

You busied yourself around the gazebo, alternating between taking photos of the cloudy sky and videos of the gentle breeze that made the branches of the pretty flower bushes surrounding the area dance.

"Harder!"

The camera, following your movement, focused on Jake rather than the white flowers.

"17, 18, 19... 20!"

"Fuck!" Another grunt.

Jake's trainers and fitness team showered him in praise for sustaining yet another repetition of literal gut punches.

But all you could hear was the noises he just made.

Your man glanced over at you and waved, soft giggles completed the picture. He was gesturing something. For someone who spoke so much with his hands, he was not that good at it.

You figured he meant he was almost done. Or so you hoped.

The punches started all over again, but the sound of the gloves hitting Jake's skin and the redness that bloomed over his abs indicated they were going all in for this last set.

You approached the gazebo, attention focusing on the noises that Jake was making and how he scrunched his nose with each punch.

With each grunt too. Was it a subterfuge to distract himself from the pain, to trick his mind and body to take hit after hit?

Your jaw dropped, although only Jake noticed, while you watched them. It was mesmerizing. No, actually, it was hypnotizing.

The ceiling fans could not rotate fast enough to dry the layer of sweat that was all over Jake's body. He contracted his abs with all his might, hands behind his head and torso exposed to receive more torture. The masochistic exercise was sending his brain into overdrive.

You murmured a faint "You're gonna hurt yourself" that got blatantly ignored by everyone in the room. You clutched on your phone harder, as if you were receiving a part of all that pain too. The fingernails of your free hand dug crescent shapes into your palm.

"One more." His opponent was back at it with the assault on Jake's abs. Everybody in the room chanted the last series of numbers until the training was finally over. In between each digit, there was a loud grunt. In between each hit, the veins of Jake's pelvis bulged while pumping all the blood that made his skin a dark share of red.

Everybody but you retreated to one of the many entrances of the gazebo, getting ready to leave. Meanwhile, you leaned on the column for much needed balance.

"That was fantastic!" Jake laughed. His laughter was the only one that sounded genuine. The other guys chuckled, worried, at his appearance. They pointed out how he was "red as shit". To which Jake answered that "We want the movie to be good, you know."

You were concerned, still, but more so turned on by the scene.

The endorphins were hitting Jake hard. You could tell he was worked up in more ways than one. The euphoric giggles and cocky smile, the way he hopped and jogged around the gazebo to keep his body in this momentum. He was not hearing a word that his team was telling him, something about setting up his ice bath, as they exited the area in a cacophony of squeaky shoe noises. The only thing Jake acknowledged was your presence.

You let him walk to you close enough to pull you by the hand so he could kiss your lips.

"I knew it. I knew you wanted to watch." He smirked. "I gave one hell of a good show, didn't I?" He took your phone out of your hand and set it on the bench from where he grabbed a towel to wipe his forehead with. "Don't tell me that's not true, it's written all over your pretty face."

You rolled your eyes, not even trying to stand up for yourself. "So, you're done now?"

Jake shrugged with a not-so innocent grin on his blushing face. "Kinda."

"What do you mean, kinda?" You sighed, annoyed. "If I hear you guys count up to twenty again today, I swear..."

"Ooh, I'm scared." He giggled again. He calmed down and squinted, looking at you through his long lashes. "No counting up."

Your satisfaction with his answer was short lived.

"But we'll count it down."

You watched him while he draped the towel down on the black mats. "Remember when I bet that you wanted to join me today? I was right." He took a step closer to you. "I'm feeling all the good luck running through my veins right now, so I wanna make another bet."

You looked at him with a confused arched brow. Your eyes studied his body. From the messy wet hair, down to the curve of his pecs, and even further down to his swollen abs; your eyes were met with the bulge in his shorts.

"I bet you that I can make you cum," he brought your attention back to his face. "With twenty thrusts."

"Here?" He nodded. His team was not far away, you could hear them dump bags of ice in the converted trash container that was used for temperature shocks. You rolled your eyes. Laughing while taking in so much pain was insane, but not having a care in the world about getting caught was even more insane. "Nah."

"Come on! I know you want to." He repeated the next words in a lower, quieter voice. "I know you want me to fuck you." He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. "Twenty thrusts, that's all I'm asking." Jake loved to work his magic, he knew all too well that this same magic worked every time. Well, almost. "You gonna give it to me? Gonna let me fuck your pretty pussy? Gonna let me show you who you belong to?" The hand that was on your cheek started to travel down your body, following the shape of your stomach until it slid under the hem of your clothes.

You gasped when you felt his warm hand cup your pussy underneath your panties.

He grunted when his fingers dipped ever so slightly in your wetness. "Yeah, you do. You want it so fucking bad." He pushed his middle finger between your folds and teased your clit. "You were getting so worked up from watching me that you had to go play in the flowers like a busy little bee. You couldn't keep your eyes off me for long, huh?"

You cut his monologue short with a passionate kiss. Your tongue invaded his mouth but quickly lost the battle for dominance.

The way you moaned against Jake's lips gave him the unspoken permission pull down your pants after you both kicked off your shoes. He broke the kiss to help you lay down on the towel and remove his shorts too. "I take it as you accept my bet?"

You both laughed while you gently slapped his chest. "Just fuck me already."

"Attagirl." You did not need to say it twice. Jake spread your legs open and positioned himself between them, kneeling and taking deep breaths while he took in the sight of you offering your body to him.

"We gotta be quiet." You reminded him about the risks of getting caught. What a waste of words.

Jake used your wet pussy to jerk off and lube his cock. He looked at you and how you squirmed under him. You were so wet for him, he glided over your folds and clit easily. "Oh yeah, looks like you care so much about being quiet." He didn't give you time to protest, he guided his cock and pressed it against your entrance. "I don't give a fuck if they hear. And judging by how wet you are..." He pushed, slowly, until his tip was inside of your clenching walls. "You want them to hear us too."

You moved on him, helping Jake get all the way inside you. He was surprised, but through a nod you both agreed that the first thrust did not count.

Jake puts his hands on your stomach, keeping you immobile and at his mercy. "Count down for me, baby."

And you did just that, or so you tried. Jake's first five thrusts were slow and deep, he let you get adjusted to his size while he praised you over and over again about how good you felt wrapped around him. He was rock hard, all the stamina built up from his training made it near impossible to hold himself back and stick to his stupid bet.

"Please, harder!"

Jake grunted in response. He obliged, happily. Selfishly, too. He scrunched his nose and bared his teeth with each thrust.

When you called out the number fifteen with a loud and long moan, he switched things up.

He lifted your legs so you could use his body to lean them on. In this position, you were slightly lifted upwards. He pulled almost all the way out and pushed all the way back in your pussy. The angle made your entire body flinch. He waited for you to say the next number out loud, but his patience ran out fast. "We're not even halfway done and you've gone dumb already? That's my good girl."

With the next ten thrusts, Jake successfully fucked the shyness out of you. You counted down from 15 to 5 loud enough to please him and most certainly loud enough to be heard. He was reaching so deep inside of you, that a few of those numbers failed to come out of your mouth. Instead, your incoherent "Ah, ah, ah" drove Jake even crazier and that made him want to keep hitting that sweet spot.

Now, there were five thrusts left. You could tell that Jake was dangerously close to the edge by the way he grunted louder and without any restraint. He was lost in the moment, without a care for the world that surrounded him. All that mattered to him was making you feel good.

"Fuck!" You cried out when his thumb brushed over your untouched clit. "That wasn't part of the," you panted, he rubbed your clit faster. "Of the rules."

"Do I look like I care?" He breathed out. "Look at me."

You batted your cock drunk eyes at him and took in the view. He looked so good, all sweaty and needy from this different, and much more entertaining, form of exercise.

"That's it, forget about it. You don't need to think." He pulled out, leaving just his leaky tip inside your hole. He watched your chest rise and fall with anticipation for the next thrust that followed quickly after.

"5... 4..." You counted along.

"3," Jake counted down with you. His thumb rubbed your clit at the perfect pace and intensity. Your pussy clenched so tight around him that he knew the last couple of thrusts would make it almost impossible not to cum too quickly. You were both so close. "Just like that, baby. You're taking me so fucking good."

"2." Your face twisted into a blissful expression. Nothing else mattered other than your imminent release. You rested your hands on Jake's arms, kind of trying to keep him close but also kind of trying to push him away so you could process the way your body felt in this very moment.

Jake stilled inside of you. The way your walls clenched and relaxed around his cock felt heavenly. He pulled out completely and sat back. He grunted when he caught the view of your pussy, juices leaking down on the towel from your stretched out hole. You looked so tempting, so delicious. If only he had more time, he would devour you like there was no tomorrow. If only. "Ready, baby?"

You nodded, hands reaching in his direction to try and bring him back where you needed him the most, which was balls deep inside of you.

"Yeah, you are." He leaned forward to kiss you, a distraction from the touch of his fingers on your sensitive clit. He needed you closer, impossibly closer, so that he could feel you explode all around him.

You arched your back. He swallowed your moans. Your legs tried to wrap around his waist, you were trying anything to get him to make you see stars.

"I regret this stupid bet." He scoffed. He looked down at his slick covered cock, it was red and veiny like the rest of his abdomen. It throbbed between your bodies. He could not wait any longer. He used his free hand to line himself with your entrance for the last time. He took a deep breath and exhaled when he pushed his cock inside of you.

Inch by inch, you felt all of his length until he bottomed out. With his thumb rubbing your clit, it all felt so intense. You let out your loudest moans yet when you started to cum on his command.

Jake tried to talk you through it, telling you that you were his "perfect cockslut" and that "your pussy was made to take my cum". He slurred his words more than anything.

His voice echoed in your empty mind, so did the sound of his grunts when your clenching walls brought him to his orgasm.

He fought to keep his eyes open so he could watch your reaction to being filled with his load. Jake moaned your name when your pussy relaxed around him. It finally let him move, not that he wanted to.

Your legs fell down on the floor and you laid there, giggling to yourself. Jake lost no time to join you, laughing along while he kissed your lips.

You put one hand on his cheek and the other one on the back of his head, not caring for his sweaty hair. You pulled him closer for another kiss. You wanted this moment to last forever, and, well, you desperately wanted a second round.

"Oh shit." Jake cursed when he was called out for his ice bath again. "Just in time." He pointed out the odd timing, right when you guys finished. The was no way this was a coincidence.

Your eyes widened at the realization. There was no way this was a coincidence. They heard you. They heard it all.

"Coming!" Jake yelled out then exploded in a fit of giggles while he stood up and put his gym shorts back on.

"You're unbelievable." You, finally, laughed along with him while trying to hold your body up on your wobbly knees.

Jake looked down at you and scrunched his nose again. "You look so fucking good down there."

"I know." You agreed.

Jake winked at you, then he told you how you were the unbelievable one. He adjusted himself in his boxers, apprehending the temperature shock that awaited him, but you pushed his hands out of the way.

You licked over his puffy, red abs in a long stripe. You tasted his salty sweat on your tongue while you kept going for as far as you could.

You earned a loud grunt and helping hands to pull you back up on your feet. "You're not shy now, huh?" He smiled from ear to ear while he watched you dress up too. Jake promised himself that he was not going to let this be the only time you licked his sweat like that. You could not get away with doing something so hot.

You caught him staring so you stole a quick kiss from his lips as to not take an even longer and more suspicious amount of time before sending Jake back to his fitness team.

"Don't worry, baby." He tried to reassure you, which worked for a split second. "Everybody already heard you while you were cumming. I'm sure they won't mind if we take a little more time." Jake held your jaw in his hand and planted a long kiss on your lips, making sure you did not wiggle away from him just yet. He called the shots, or so he liked to think, and only pulled away when his named was called out again.

You shooed him away, laughing along.

"Go back to the house and wait for me there, yeah?" He started to jog away from you and exited the gazebo. "I'll need something to warm me up afterwards." He turned around to wink at you and he disappeared from your sight. You could still hear his mischievous giggling while you collected your senses, until the noise was replaced with the group of men loudly discussing the amount of ice to put in the makeshift bath.

You picked up the towel from the floor, hiding the evidence that the drops of his cum left behind, and you grabbed your phone from where Jake left it. You squinted when you noticed how it was propped up against a boxing glove, aimed in the direction where Jake fucked you. You gasped audibly when you discovered that your phone was recording the scene the entire time. You held your phone tightly in your hand and walked out of the gazebo, heart racing and heat radiating from your core.

Jake was right: he would need something warm to help him recover from the ice bath. And with this little video of yours... You knew exactly how to keep his favourite set of holes ready.

[gyll-yee-haw]

Hi! 💛

I saw this in another fandom and now I'm sending the same question to a bunch of Jake girlies (gn) because it’s so interesting seeing everybody’s answers!

Who are your Top 3 Jake boys and why? Is there a specific piece of art (fic, gif, fan art, etc.) for them that you like a lot?

Hiii, sweetheart <333

Thank you for the ask!!

If I'm being honest, my fave Jake boy to write or read is Jake himself, probably... including some INSANELY GOOD AUs that our favorite girl Laurie (@gyllenhaalstories) comes up with, she's brilliant - my personal faves are Chocolatier!Jake, the forever in our hearts Rapper!Jake and specially her Barbie fanfic that I think about everyday 🥺🎀

Now let's talk about my fave characters... well, I love most of them, but my top 3 are probably:

1. Detective Loki (no surprise to absolutely anyone)

I just love me some hurt confort with a man covered in tattoos and a dark past.... and btw, I love how tumblr invented a WHOLE background for him, I can't thank our brilliant artists enough 😭

And I can't not mention 'The storm' because it's probably my fave fic I've ever written 🤭

2. Donnie Darko

I'm obsessed with that movie and I love the absolute filthy ideas people send me here 😭 (I love one sub!boy)

When I think of Donnie fics, I think of @psychwxrdd

3. Our criminally ignored Adam Bell

Well, he's big and hairy and I have a professor kink, okay??

Big thanks to @lust4life01 for providing us her masterpieces with him 🙏🏻 (big shutout to this fic specifically)

[caffeineplusmypen]

If you get this, answer w/ three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs. anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog!

1. I'm new here (hopefully doing this correctly 😂)

2. I have lots of pillows on my bed.

3. I prefer showers to baths.

@ilovedavidloki @sizzlingcloudmentality @gyll-yee-haw @gyllenhaalstories @charliehoennam @jakegyllinhaal

[jakegooglyeyes]

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.

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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

[archives-gyllenhaal-stories]

can you please tag your stuff as asks or something and not smut/imagine? sorry if this comes off as rude, not my intention 😰

shoot, my bad! i didn’t know it was annoying anyone. old roleplay habits of tagging everything die hard, believe me! i’ll tag the answered requests accordingly, but i’ll use “gyllenhaalstories answers” as my usual ask tag. i hope this satisfies you, nonny!

[det-loki]

The Jake withdrawals is very much a thing and I feel it too! 🥹 So I have a question for you! Is there something you would have loved to see/learn about Loki in the movie? A specific aspect of his life or something else about him that was not shown at all?

hi lovely!

I would absolutely love if we got his backstory!! I feel like it's very layered, and very telling into why he became a detective and was so intertwined in the missing girls case. I'm a sucker for angst 🤷🏻‍♀️

Another thing I would have loved to have seen would be his life at home (or lack thereof). Loki is a loner and leaning into that storyline a bit more would have been interesting to see

[firefly-graphics]

Hi, Daisy! I hope you're doing well! I just found your dividers and I absolutely adore them! Could I make a request, please? I love your lemons/fruit dividers (especially the ones with a small fruit in the middle and a line on both sides), would be be possible to have something similar to this but with oranges? So it would be an orange in the middle and an orange line around? Or however you feel like making it? Thank you so much!!!!

Hello lovely - I’m doing good thank you! Hope you are too.

I’ll get these posted soon sweetie

[gyllenhaalics]

I hope the whole situation will settle down eventually so you can catch a break! Please, stay safe and take care of you!!!!

Thank you so much!

I saw you posted new stories, I'd love to read them as soon as I have the time, to get my inspiration back.

[angelic-holland]

for the nosy asks! 18, 23, 29, 47 & 50! :D

18. What tattoos do you want?

Ahhh well I want another thigh piece (maybe an anatomical heart or brain), and then I want a sleeve on my arm that doesn’t have tattoos but I don’t know what I want yet.

23. What are five favorite musical bands/artists?

Green Day

SMWRs

Harry Styles

Dodie

Ed Sheeran (the old stuff)

29. What’s the most overrated movie?

Y’all might kill me but uh Citizen Kane

47. If you could marry any celebrity who would you pick?

Y’all already know...

50. What’s your favorite kind of weather?

The weather right after it rains, it’s a little chilly but you can see the rainbow in the reflection of puddles and you get those goosebumps that just make ya smile... whew I love it

Be Nosy!

[daniel-bruehl]

What is your top 5 favourite video games of all time? And your top 5 favourite songs right now! 🥰✨

alrightyyyy so!

my top 5 video games:

Silent Hill 2. like, there's not even room for discussion. this game altered my brain chemistry and changed the trajectory of my entire life lol i loved it then i still love it just as much, if not more, today

Assassin's Creed 2 / The Ezio Collection but specifically the first two games with Ezio. they are simply UNMATCHED for me, no ac games after came close to what they made me feel

Call of Duty Modern Warfare II (2022) and not only because of the very hot characters but because it genuinely surprised me with the way they gave life to those characters, the variety in gameplay action, plus the cut scenes felt like a whole movie and it was just such an enjoyable game all around?? (also the character design... hnnngh)

and i say this with my whole heart: The Sims (4, bc it's the only one i owned so far, but from what i've seen from the previous games they all deserve a spot here) bc WHERE ELSE am i able to make so many unhinged decisions, tell so many wild stories all while downloading really cool clothes and furniture to customize my game for free?? exactly, nowhere. would've been on 2. place in this ranking if it wasn't for the amount of times the game crashed on me and the fact that the babies are marked as objects bc???)

Silent Hill: Downpour. I know, i know, many people hated the game and i see why but consider this; the game looked so beautiful, the revelation at the end was a+ heartbreaking for me AND the main character was a really hot and really morally questionable sad guy so. case closed <3

and now to my top 5 songs THIS IS REALLY HARD bc how am i supposed to choose when i have hundreds of favorite songs for each mood and time of day?? so i'm just gonna give you my top 5 for today, 5.40 p.m. local time lmao

Savages by MARINA (a society-bashing classic if you ask me <3)

Would've, Could've, Should've by Taylor Swift (makes me want to kill some men and i love that for me)

Seige by Hans Zimmer (the climax of that song? DRAMATIC)

Killers from the Northside by Kordhell (i, too, have fallen into the phonk hole i'm sorry)

Something in the Orange (need me some sad country tunes today)

Thank you so much for asking!! 💗

Ask me my top 5 of anything!

[gyllenhaalstories]

CHOKEHOLD — ELWOOD DALTON

summary: dalton is a triple threat: he’s got sexy tattoos, a thick neck and he’s terribly needy.

warnings: reader is gender neutral!, smut (quickie, masturbation, choking  handjob, edging, subby dalton vibes). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 1430

photo credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i'm the captain (conductor? driver? main cheerleader who's been thirsting for dalton since the beginning? choose your fighter) of the the dalton hype train. grab your train ticket and join us! choo-choo! 🖤 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

You knew what he was up to. You had your suspicions from the start, when he told you he wanted to grab something from the bedroom with a smile on his lips. There was a hint of mischief camouflaged under a layer of fake innocence, a mix that was so characteristic of him.

Dalton was not being subtle about it either. His moans, grunts and whimpers were loud enough to echo from the bedroom to the hallway, from where you were standing. Truthfully, the whispered pleas, muffled begging and “yeah, just like that, fuck” gave everything away.

You knew he was alone, at least physically. You also knew that he was thinking of you while he was doing whatever it was that kept him too busy to answer when you called out his name.

He loved to tell you how much he thought about you. Whether he was quickly jerking off in the shower after training to release some of the pent up energy that ran through his veins, or when he was taking his sweet time to enjoy himself — he was dying to tell you all about it. 

You started to wonder what turned him on the most between the act of sharing his filthy thoughts or watching you as your brain slowly melted away, detail after detail, until you had to recreate whatever jerk off story he was telling you. Knowing Dalton, it was most definitely both of those. And knowing Dalton, he was putting on a show for his own pleasure, the fact that you enjoyed it just as much was the cherry on top.

He caught a glimpse of your head peeking in the doorway. He tightened his fist around his cock and jerked off faster, focusing on his tip that already started to leak.

You stared, immobile, except for how you bit on your lower lip.

"Come on, don't be shy."

His invitation succeeded in being too tempting to resist. You walked in the bedroom and admired his body some more. The way his chest rose and fell heavily with every breath he took captivated you.

Dalton cut you off before you started drooling at the sight of his small, perky nipples. He was now standing up, the rest of his naked body exposed to you. He erased the distance between the two of you, his mouth searching for yours to exchange a kiss that you denied him.

"You wanted to get off?" He nodded, then tilted his head to the side. "So I'll get you off."

His hands, glistening with the spit and precum he used as lube, abandoned his cock and reached towards your clothes. He was eager to touch your body, to feel your warm skin on his.

Again, you denied him of this privilege. You clicked your tongue, telling him off. "No touching, babe." He pulled his best game of puppy eyes in an attempt to win you over, but he failed. "I just wanna make you feel good."

He earned a kiss when he surrendered and you let your hands fall on his shoulders and caress down his chest, his abdomen and to his waist.

Your fingers traced over the defined muscles of his hips before you broke contact to spit on your hand, getting it ready for his throbbing cock.

He threw his head back when you wrapped your hand around his shaft, revealing his neck that looked so sad without its usual marks.

You remedied the situation by leaving kisses on and around his Adam's apple, hickeys soon followed while you jerked him off so painfully slowly.

Dalton did not want to warn you about how close he had gotten himself before you caught him, he wanted to get lost in the feeling of your hand stroking him from the base to the tip. You cupped his heavy balls with your other hand. It felt heavenly, proven by the droplets of precum that trickled down his cock.

"Feels good, yeah?"

He nodded eagerly, you looked down between your bodies and noticed how he was flexing his hips, trying to fuck your hand faster. "I need you so bad, baby..."

"I know," you cooed at him. "I know you do. I can see it. I can feel it." You laughed softly, not mocking him about it just yet.

"I wanna be inside you." He mumbled, his moans getting louder when you swiped your thumb over his sensitive tip. "Please, please, please..."

His begging was cut short when your hand wrapped around his thick neck. You choked him lightly, giving him one more chance to listen to what you said moments ago.

Only, it only made him crave the feeling of you even more. "Come on," he repeated his words from earlier. "You know you want it too."

"Oh, I do." You smirked at your man. "But not yet. I want to make you earn it."

You took him by surprise when you jerked him off faster, harder, bringing him closer than he did on his own before until you felt a breath getting stuck in his throat. You pulled your hand away from his cock and looked down as it throbbed again.

Dalton caught your attention when he chuckled, the adrenaline rush of the first edge kicking in.

In return, you caught him off guard by tightening your grip around his neck and taking his cock in your hand again. You guided him, forcing him to walk backwards until his bare back met with the wall. You pinned him up in place, secured with the chokehold around his neck.

"You're so fucking hot." He managed to whisper, the praise convinced you to loosen your hand for a few moments. You let him catch his breath before you choked him again, before you edged him again.

He was being so good for you, and you told him so many times, while he took two more edges in this position. You felt Dalton pulsate in your hands, all of the veins bulging underneath your fingers. "Do you think you earned it?" You asked with a condescending tone. "Do you wanna cum? I think you do."

You blurred his mind, he was lost in confusion between begging to cum right now or waiting until he could finish inside of whatever hole you would offer him. He tried to think with his mind, but he failed miserably.

"Please let me cum!"

You added another layer of agony by letting go of his neck for a few moments, so you could push him towards the bed this time.

His body relaxed as the bed sheets and cushions safely welcomed his weight. And yours too, while you climbed to kneel by his side.

Your hand jerked him off fast again while he was fighting against how sensitive he felt, how close to his release he truly was. "You wanna cum for me baby? You wanna make a big mess for me?"

He wanted it so fucking bad and you knew it. You granted his wish and kept jerking him off until you could no longer hear the slick sounds of your hand around his shaft. The noises were replaced by his grunts of pleasure that resonated in the room.

Pleasure that turned into a complaint when you pulled your hand away at the perfect time. You made him cum without the final strokes of your hand that he craved so badly. Your other hand, though, was still choking him. You held him right there, in that sweet spot of euphoria while he finished riding the wave of his orgasm.

The vein on his temple looked so perfect, and you planted a loving kiss on it, tasting the beads of sweat that were on his skin. He came down from his high, both satisfied but still in desperate need for more.

You released his neck for the final time and replaced your hand with a trail of kisses all over his skin. You tried to follow his movements while he panted, recovering from the limited oxygen he had received these past minutes.

He watched you closely while your mouth abandoned his neck and, instead, followed the ropes of cum that he painted on his tan and toned stomach. Drops of cum dripped down his puffy abs and you licked all of it clean.

"Next time you want to jerk off, will you ask for my help instead?" You asked, crawling up the bed so your faces met for a heated kiss.

He moaned against your lips at the taste of him. "Next time, I'll just use you to jerk off instead."

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Lia's sleepover

Hi lovelies! So I just saw I hit 1.5k followers. And like holy shit, I was just celbrating 1.3k not even 2 months ago, its honestly so crazy and I'm so thankful for all the love and support! So I wanted to celebrate, but since I still have an active milestone challenge (which is still open btw, more info here), I thought I'd do my first sleepover, like ever, instead.

So this sleepover will consist of two sections, writing requests and send me things. see below for all the details

General info

The sleepover will begin today, July 18th until Saturday, July 23rd. That's how long I'll be taking requests/asks specifically to be included in the sleepover. And on Sunday, July 24nd I will be posting the writing requests. Though I will answer any send me things asks throughout the week.

For obvious reasons, and as it always has been, I ask that all participants be 18+. If you are under 18, one you should not be interacting with my blog to begin with, but I can't control your media consumption, so I do ask that you respect my boundaries and you don't participate.

If you are thinking of sending a writing request (that is not a headcanon) I ask that you do it asap so that I actually have time to have it done by Sunday.

You are more than welcome to send more than one ask, like please, go crazy.

Be kind and respectful, and I do ask that you look at my hard no's before requesting, I will include those below, I will not answer asks that make me uncomfortable.

I will use the tags #lia's sleepover #sleepover and #sweet asks

Send me things section

FMW fictional characters editions, would you rather, top three of whatever

Send me a kink and I'll rate it. Fuck no | No | Rather not | Not sure | I suppose | Yes | Fuck yes | Give it to me right fucking now |

Send me a character and I'll rate them

Ask me about my favourite trope

Ask me about my works or any future works you would like to know about

Anything your heart desires!, anything you want to know, anything you want to say to me, I want to hear it all

Writing request section

Send me a character + a kink, trope or line of dialogue (from the list I will link below pls) and I'll write a drabble for it (Maybe longer if I'm really feeling it)

Send me a character and your headcannons (SFW or NSFW)

Send me your thotties fantasies about x character and I'll write a drabble, yes it can be as filthy as you want. Reference my no's list and characters I'm writing for if you're unsure

Need I remind you you must be 18+ to request anything? Yes, please please, respect my boundaries, refrain from requesting if you are under 18.

Writing request info

Here is the list of characters I'm currently writing for. Soldier Boy, Dean Winchester, Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, Javier P, and Din Djarin

As always my works are X readers, for the most part f!reader, but if there's no need for specifications it'll remain gender neutral

For the character + dialogue, I ask that you reference the list of dialogues I made in this post. But if you have a specific line of dialogue you'd like me to do that's okay too.

Here are my no's when it comes to requests. I don't have many and I'm open to pretty much anything, these are just my hard no's. Anything noncon (I've seen so many sb fics with this, I refuse to write this), anything blood kink related, BDSM themes simply because I don't know anywhere near enough to be able to write it, the obvious grooming, pedophilia, shit like that. It's not much, I'm open to pretty much anything.

Send me things!

Thank you to everyone who has liked, commented and reblogged my fics these past few weeks, you have made my summer so much more bearable and I appreciate you so much. Your support means the world to me. And thank you for allowing me to share my love of these men. Yall are awesome.

No preassure tags, tagging my lovely mutuals

@fluffyprettykitty @a-reader-and-a-writer @sketch-and-write-lover @witchisenpai @gyllenhaalstories @inklore @loverhymeswith @littlestatesman

[bucksfucks]

   𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 ��𝖆𝖌 𝖌𝖆𝖒𝖊

RULES || make a new post and share your answers.

thank you so much for the tag @msmarvelwrites — you’re such a sweetheart & kind soul, you deserve all the love!! <<3

       ══════════════════

1. why did you choose your url?

uhhh well, as you know, i used to be honeysucklesteve! at first, a lot of my writing revolves around chris evans & his characters and while i still adore him!!! i found a passion writing for bucky!

so i wanted to change it to something that a) revolves around bucky and b) was short and fun!

2. any sideblogs? if you do, name them and say why you have them.

i only have one! it’s my library blog where i reblog only my writing! [ @honeyslibrary ]

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

ooof ummm well i attempted to use tumblr back in 2014 but i had a one direction fan account on instagram so i didn’t have much interest in tumblr oops 💀

4. do you have a queue tag?

i do!! i don’t use it toooooo often, but it’s what’s a queue anyways which i should re-name because i feel like i could do better

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

whore-knee-thots.

but ummm the past year has been rough, so i thought, hey, why not!

6. why did you choose your icon?

it’s seggsy. bucky barnes as the winter soldier is my kink

7. why did you choose your header?

it’s literally just the colour code that matches my pfp it’s all for the aesthetic ✌🏻

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

the feelings mutual — which, honestly? shocks me to this day

9. how many mutuals do you have?

oh man it must be like, a hundred? which is a very crazy thing to say out loud!

10. how many followers do you have?

idk, more than 12. i don’t like focusing on followers!!

11. how many people do you follow?

107 beautiful creators!

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

everything i post is a shit post

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

whenever i have the time/need the distraction!

14. have you ever had a fight/argument with another blog? who won?

only calling out racists and considering they have ✨blocked me✨ i think i’ve won.

15. how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

i have never found money or good news from those chain emails back in middle school soooo yeah, they don’t get me

16. do you like tag games?

yah!! i don’t get tagged in many but i love them!

17. do you like ask games?

yes!! but i also don’t wanna clog up anyone’s feeds

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

literally everyone omgggg uhhh @navybrat817 @stargazingfangirl18 @angrythingstarlight just to name a few <<<3

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

i fall in love 13 times a day i have a crush on everyone

20. tags?

no pressure tags! @mickey-henry @balenciagabucky @coldfingers-warmheart @sunmoonandbucky @samwilsons-pillowpecs @danneelsmain @gyllenhaalstories @labella420 @cockslut-padalecki

[gyll-yee-haw]

Chapter 8

Professor!Jake x reader

Series information

Series masterlist

—

I’m standing in this wreck because of your smile.

(Bite Down Salvador - Catfish and the Bottlemen)

—

You knew you weren’t over Jake yet, even though all your hope was gone. But that letter… it changed everything.

If he really loved you, you should go after him. Tell him that your baby is actually his child…

The problem was that you had no idea how to find him. Maybe you could ask some of your teachers who knew him? He probably kept in touch with someone from your college, otherwise how would he know about your pregnancy? Maybe you could look for him online?

You didn’t know exactly what to do, but now there was hope again.

—

The first thing you did when you arrived in college the next day was show Wes the letter. You swore you could see his soul leave his body for a second.

“Y/N…” He sighed. “If this is true… if he loves you and he knows where you live, after all, this letter appeared at your doorstep, then why didn’t he look for you? Or at least left a phone number or anything so you could contact him?”

“Haven’t you read that?” You rolled your eyes, but nothing could really get that smile off your face. “He believed that this child is yours. I have to tell him the truth.”

“I don’t think so.” Wes shrugged. “He left you once, who said he won’t do it again?”

“It’s up to him.” You insisted. “But he has the right to know. Come on, Wes… if we have this little chance to be happy together, then why ignore it?”

Wes didn’t say anything, because he was thinking the exact same thing. If he had this tiny chance of being by your side and making you see that he could love you and raise this baby with you, he wouldn’t let anything or anyone get on his way.

Not even this little detail you didn’t know.

— flash back on —

On the day Jake quit his job, he showed up at the college campus to pick up his things. You weren’t there. But Wes was. And they ended up bumping into each other on the hallway. Jake had a box filled with all his stuff in his hands and Wes couldn’t help but look.

Jake explained to him that he got an offer from another University. He even said which one it was. Wes wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth, cause he seemed so nervous.

“Well, it’s a shame.” Wes lied. “We’re gonna miss your classes. I bet Y/N is gonna be so sad when she hears this. If… she doesn’t know already.”

“She doesn’t.” His heart hurt just by hearing your name. “But if you see her… just… just tell her that if she needs me for absolutely anything she can call me, okay?”

Then he handed Wes a card with his phone number.

“I’ll give it to her.” Wes nodded. “Good luck, professor.”

— flash back off —

“I just need to find a way to contact him…” You said.

“But he left you with nothing. No number, he didn’t even tell you where he was going.” Wes replied. “And what are you gonna tell people? That you lied about who was the father of your baby?”

“I don’t care about people, Wes.” You sighed. “I want to be happy. And I want my baby to know the truth.”

—

Weeks passed and you had nothing. None of your teachers knew where Jake was working now. The email that you knew was an account for employees of your college, so he didn’t have access to it anymore. You looked for him on every social media but never found anything.

You cursed him for giving you hope just to leave you one more time.

You couldn’t stand that anymore.

The only thing you thought about all day was how your child would never know the amazing father they had.

Yes, amazing. It didn’t matter all he did to you, you would never stop admiring him, just like you’d never stop loving him.

You were worried about maternity in general. You weren’t sure if you were ready for it.

And those worries kept you up all night. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a good night of sleep. And you needed to take care of your health, since now there was a tiny human growing inside you…

So, one night you took a sleeping pill and went to bed.

You started to have some really peaceful thoughts. Imagining a baby that looked just like Jake. You smiled. A small child who barely learnt to walk grabbing Jake’s hand and walking on a huge, beautiful garden. And Jake would teach him everything he knew. About plants and about animals too. Your baby would be obsessed with him, ask him a million questions, and he would reply to them all with a huge smile on his face.

That smile…

You woke up the next morning feeling like that was the best night of sleep of your life. You were filled with the happiness from those memories your head created but you would never actually have.

So the next night, you lay down in bed, closed your eyes and tried to imagine those things again. Jake meeting your newborn baby. Helping you take care of it. Singing it to sleep.

But it wasn’t working this time… the images weren’t as strong and realistic like the night before…

Maybe it was the pills… but no. You couldn’t keep taking them. You didn’t see a doctor and maybe they wouldn’t be good for the baby.

But you couldn’t sleep that night.

Or the next one.

Fuck it.

On the third sleepless night on a row, you decided to take one pill.

You closed your eyes. Nothing. You felt nothing. You tried hard, but those images weren’t coming back.

Maybe one more pill would help.

Why wasn’t it working?!

Another pill as you sobbed, begging for it to bring back your perfect family… even if it was only for one night…

You lost count of how many pills you took before passing out.

—

Wes knocked on your door at 7:30am, as always. Well, not always, but since you got pregnant, the idea of you driving worried him, so he decided to drive you to college everyday. It wasn’t bad at all.

But you were taking so long to open it this time. He knocked again. You didn’t open or yell for him to wait. Maybe you were still asleep and missed the alarm. So he used his key to walk in.

“Y/N?” He called. No answer.

He walked into your room and chuckled when he found you still asleep.

“Come on, you lazy girl.” He called as he approached the bed.

But there was something weird. He shook you and you didn’t wake up. He shook you again. Nothing. He shook you a little harder, he was getting worried.

Something fell from your hand. An empty box of sleeping pills.

—

Taglist:

@lady-evans  @shay-vaughn   @sogothiamdead   @paosesposts  @baby-haz  @twinkleliljakey ​  @gyllenhaalstories  ​ @lexie-wayland  @gaymysterio @tenandcrowley @emilykjh

[archives-gyllenhaal-stories]

sooooo, my first blog ( @gyllenhaalstories​ ) has been brought to life out of nowhere? should i go back there (where all my requests were answered!) or keep this one instead? i could reblog my requests and recover the unanswered ones and post them all here. i need your opinion, guys!

update: i’m leaning towards moving to my original blog, so it’s less trouble to resend all the requests and all. i AM CONFUSION and indecisive 

[det-loki]

I brought coffee and pancake to make up for disturbing your morning ☕🥞🙈 Thank you so much for the comment, it made me smile so big 😭 And thank you for reading, I’m super glad you liked the fic!!! 💖💖💖

coffee!!! you angel!!!

your work is always great, deliciously so. thank you for the kind words and I'm glad I could bring some brightness to you!! I'll always read whatever you post. 💕💗