#and their chemistry is electrifying

[catabasis]

ASTEROID CITY (2023, Wes Anderson)

[borgialucrezia]

CESARE BORGIA + dragging his brother around "You have a priest for a brother?."

[suave1foru]

Find your connection

[scrumptiousstuffs]

“What’s wrong Bigfoot? You’re tense.” Aye

The Eclipse, Episode 2

[korusalka]

.

[jayciethings]

Once upon a time... I was obsessed with these two

the story of emma swan

part 6: a happy beginning

[blackwaterhikikomori]

Just saw a group of teenagers chatting about the most painless way of dying and... I'm pretty happy that kids these days don't know how to make a good research

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

The way my horrible taste in movies contributes to my excellent taste in music

[slut4nicholas]

𝙊𝙃 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍, 𝙄 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄𝙄 | 𝙉𝙄𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙎 𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙓𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙕

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄

a/n: i'm not entirely satisfied with this, but I felt the need to share the second part. writing smut isn't my favorite thing, but it can be fun to imagine! this piece is a bit lengthy, but i hope you all enjoy it! <3

warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), penetration p in v, unprotected sex!

summary: after an electrifying night filled with undeniable chemistry, she returns home, heart racing from the secrets shared. but when she awakens to an unexpected surprise, desire ignites—especially when it involves her irresistible priest.

†

𝙋𝙊𝙍 𝙌𝙐𝙀 𝙇𝙊 𝙈𝘼𝙎 𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙊 𝙎𝙄𝙀𝙈���𝙍𝙀 𝙀𝙎 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙃𝙄𝘽𝙄𝘿𝙊 | as i made my way home, my thoughts spiraled into a tantalizing whirlwind of forbidden desire, all centered around charlie. every detail of him haunted my mind—his hair, that sultry voice, the way his smile ignited something deep inside me, his sculpted body that was simply irresistible. it’s a thrilling, dangerous dance of attraction i never expected to find within the hallowed walls of the church i’ve attended since my teen years.

each memory of our encounter sent electric tingles down my spine, filling me with delicious guilt, as the stark reality lingered: he’s my priest. yet, with every recollection, i find myself craving him more passionately than ever.

the sun pierced through my curtains like a spotlight, dragging me from my dreams into the sharp reality of the morning. my mother’s voice cut through the lingering haze, urgent and commanding.

“get up! father charlie is coming for dinner, and i expect this house to be spotless—no excuses. i want you on your absolute best behavior, understood?”

confusion tingled at the edges of my mind. why was he coming? it’s been almost a week since i’ve saw him, had the lady told my parents about us? did they know our secret? a wave of panic washed over me as i considered the judgment that would surely follow. how could i face my father? the weight of guilt stifled my breath, intensifying the thrill of the unknown as i grappled with the looming dread of that evening.

as dinner time approached, i was determined to look as irresistible as possible for him, wanting his gaze to linger on me, to undress me with his eyes even in front of my parents. fuck,what is wrong with me?

i slipped into my cute little white dress adorned with red bows at the front, letting my long, dark curls cascade down my shoulders. i opted for light makeup, hoping it would keep my parents from noticing anything unusual and questioning my sudden desire to impress.

i eagerly helped my mother set the table, aiming to make our long dinner table as inviting as possible for our guests. my father had dashed out for a last-minute item, while my mother was busy putting the finishing touches on a delicious dinner in the kitchen.

just as i was arranging the silverware, the doorbell rang, causing my heart to race. "It must be your father! Go on and open it!" my mom called out.

with excitement, i swung open the door, only to be taken aback by an unexpected sight—father charlie stood there, smiling warmly.

"hello," he said, his voice stern yet laced with a sweetness that sent a flutter through my chest. my words caught in my throat, rendering me speechless, but thankfully, my mother swooped in, gently nudging me aside. "excuse my daughter; she can be a bit shy," she remarked, an edge of annoyance in her tone.

charlie chuckled lightly, handing his coat to my mother, and in that moment, i felt rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do or say. i quietly made my way to the dinner table, where he and my mother awaited my father’s arrival. soon, after setting the table with the help of charlie and my mom

the door swung open, and my father entered, exchanging warm greetings with the priest. he wrapped my mother in a hug and planted a kiss on my cheek, causing charlie to flash a soft smile, filling the room with an unexpected warmth.

charlie sat across from my father, while my mother nestled close to him, her seat a cozy distance from my own, which was beside charlie but still a tad bit removed. in a nod to traditional values, my father insisted that men should occupy the edge seats at the table, marking their territory in the process.

tonight, however, charlie broke away from his typical priest attire, donning a fitted black tee that perfectly hugged his toned muscles, paired with stylish blue jeans and dress shoes that elevated his look. he was undeniably striking, and i couldn't help but notice my mother stealing glances at him, her interest unmistakable.

the atmosphere was charged, blending formality with an unspoken tension as i wondered if charlie was aware of how captivating he really was.

“father, i apologize for our absence at church lately; we've just been on a family business trip searching for the right college for my oldest son,” my mother said with a hint of regret, breaking the silence as everyone savored the delicious, warm meal in front of us. “but i promise we'll be back this Sunday, no expectations.” the pastor smiled reassuringly, “no worries, mrs. i truly miss having you all in the pews; the church has felt a bit quieter without your joyful presence.”

our family, deeply rooted in our latin heritage, held a passionate devotion to our faith, with crosses and images of the virgin mary adorning our home like cherished family portraits. “did you end up choosing a school for him?” charlie asked, his curiosity piqued as he leaned in, eager to hear about our latest adventure.

"have you, mom?" my oldest brother snapped, clearly frustrated by our parents' attempts to dictate his career path. while he dreamed of a fulfilling future in a blue-collar job, mom and dad were set on steering him toward something more prestigious—like princeton. my dad lit up at the mention, eager to share the news, while my mom squeezed his hand, her joy palpable despite the tension. nearby, charlie, our priest, flicked his gaze between my brother and our parents, noticing the undercurrents of disagreement.

i couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment; charlie hadn't said much to me since the last church gathering, and his casual glances felt like a stark contrast to the connection i had hoped we’d built. i understood he was busy, but a part of me longed for him to remember us as more than some random girl.

"how about you?" father charlie asked, fixing his gaze on me with a playful smirk. my parents, caught up in their own conversation, turned their attention our way. "um, I'm not really sure what I want to do," i replied with a light smile, but before I could dive deeper, my mother chimed in with a grin, “she’s going to be a mother and a wife to that sweet johnson boy!”

my eyes rolled in annoyance; i barely got a word in. “oh, come on, sweetie, he’s an amazing boy,” my dad added, oblivious to my frustration. “yeah, that’s what you think,” i muttered under my breath, eliciting a quiet chuckle from charlie.

the truth was that charlie secretly despised my parents and their controlling ways; he had come to spend time with me because he missed everything about me—my laughter, my innocent chatter, even the way my curls bounced when I smiled. “what do you think of him, father?” my dad asked charlie, eager for validation.

“well, I’d rather keep my opinions to myself,”

charlie replied, feeling a knot of anger form in his stomach at the thought of losing me to someone who might claim my sweet innocence as their own.

the dinner table buzzed with animated chatter and infectious laughter, but i felt a spark of mischief ignite within me. to shake off my boredom, i slipped off my shoe, playfully resting my foot on his leg, teasingly dancing my toes along the fabric of his pants. the moment his eyes shot a strong, stern glance my way, i couldn’t resist the urge to tease him further, my heart racing at the thrill of it all. i noted how his jaw clenched tightly, fists growing pale from the pressure as he fought to suppress a smile. deep down, i knew he missed even the lightest touch—the electric connection sparking between us made the dinner all the more delicious.

as dinner wound down, my parents and brother exchanged warm goodbyes with charlie, who, despite his insistence to help with cleanup, was gently shooed away by my mother. she was just grateful for his visit and wanted him to relax. then, in a surprising twist, charlie turned to me with a glint in his eye, asking if i could join him at the church to lend a hand for an upcoming fundraiser. my heart raced with excitement and curiosity—what an unexpected adventure! my parents enthusiastically approved, and as i stepped towards the door, my father wrapped me in a protective hug, reminding me to stay safe. "don't worry," charlie assured him with a charming smile, "I'll have her back before midnight." with that, i was swept away into the evening, f

charlie flung open the passenger door, a strained smile masking the simmering frustration beneath the surface while my father loomed on the porch, eyeing his every move. i waved goodbye as he slid into the driver’s seat, his jaw taut, fingers digging into the steering wheel as he pulled out of the driveway, glancing back to see my father retreat into the house. the tense silence hung in the air until he finally snapped, "so that’s the boy you’ve been sneaking out with, huh?" the edge in his voice was sharp enough to cut, and I couldn't help but scoff. "yeah, but it’s nothing. i told you i ended it before it started." “right," he said bitterly, "because your parents must be thrilled at the idea of pawning you off to some creep. what the hell?" his anger hung heavy, and i instinctively placed my hand on his arm, tracing the tense muscles with my fingers, trying to coax him back to calm. “relax, charlie! im not marrying him. why are you so worked up? It’s not like we’re anything.” he shoved my hand away, not roughly, but with a quiet intensity that sent a jolt through me. i bit my lip, a mix of shock and irritation bubbling inside me, watching him wallow in his own turmoil as the air between us crackled with unspoken words.

i couldn't shake the intensity radiating from him, his barely contained anger flickering beneath a calm facade for my parents. It was intoxicating—the way every piercing glance and biting remark sent shivers down my spine, igniting an undeniable desire within me. i craved him, yearned for him with a ferocity that made me fantasize about marrying him, bearing the children he dreamt of. i knew society would never accept it, but deep down, i was certain charlie wouldn’t give a damn. the thrill of this forbidden desire only made me want him more.

“y/n” charlie's voice dripped with urgency, igniting a fire within me, “if i could whisk you away and keep you all to myself, believe me, i would. no man—no boy—here even comes close to deserving you. for years, i’ve watched you grow, and my care for you has morphed into something fierce. i desire you more than i crave the title of 'priest.’ you’ve been burning in my thoughts, and not seeing you for a week felt like an eternity. when i stood up there to preach, all i could think of was your face, and with every passing day you weren’t there, my frustration simmered and boiled. you need to understand this—” suddenly, i ignored him, only for him to grasp my chin forcefully, compelling me to meet his gaze. “do you hear me?” he demanded, his eyes ablaze.

"yes," i whispered, locking eyes with him, a spark igniting awareness in his gaze that made him swallow hard. my mind raced with vivid imagery of me kneeling, surrendering to him just as fervently as i prayed each day. "yes what?" he pressed, his voice thick with anticipation. "yes, father," i responded, my innocent tone setting him ablaze with desire. i could feel his urgency, the way he longed to pull the car over and claim me in the backseat, where the world could witness our recklessness. let them see—if he wanted to stake his claim, then i was wholly his.

"that's my girl," he exclaimed, a devilish smirk dancing across his lips as he caught the spark of surprise flicker in my eyes. those three simple words sent a rush of heated electricity coursing through me, igniting a wild mix of excitement and longing that was hard to contain. as his fingers brushed gently against my bottom lip, I felt the world around us fade away, leaving just the two of us suspended in an intoxicating moment where everything felt possible. my heart raced, caught between exhilaration and desire, wondering what thrilling depths this connection might plunge us into next.

as we strolled past the towering façade of the old church, its stained glass windows shimmering under the fading daylight, a thrill coursed through me. i sensed that he was leading me to his sanctuary, a place that would mark the beginning of an intoxicating journey where i would be claimed wholly and unapologetically as his. The thought ignited something primal within me—a fervent desire to surrender myself entirely to him, to let him dismantle the barriers i had so carefully erected, to be utterly transformed by his touch. i welcomed the idea of being shattered, for in that destruction lay the promise of becoming his—completely and irrevocably his. it was a reckless plunge into the abyss of passion, a daring leap toward a future where i would no longer be my own, but a beautifully chaotic tapestry woven together with his deepest desires.

as we pulled up to his house, charlie swung open the passenger door, gesturing for me to step out. the moment i did, i caught sight of a group of people lounging on their porch, laughter mingling with the warm evening air. i couldn’t help but wonder what gossip would ignite amongst them at the sight of a girl arriving at her priest’s doorstep—what could they possibly think of this encounter? but that curiosity only fueled the thrill coursing through me. eagerly, we approached the door, and charlie let me in first, casting a glance at the neighbors across the street as he shut us in, a sly smirk playing on his lips. to him, it was all a game—the whispers, the speculation—he relished the thought of everyone knowing that I was HIS, wrapped in a dangerous intrigue that sent shivers down my spine.

as we stepped into his home, an electric tension crackled in the air, his hand resting possessively on the small of my back—a gesture that felt both reassuring and enticingly perilous. his gaze, intense and predatory, traced the contours of my body like a painter admiring a masterpiece, his eyes hungry and filled with desire. The moment charlie slipped off his shoes, his invitation for me to do the same felt like a seductive prelude, erasing the boundaries between us. wrapped in his warmth, i felt an exhilarating mix of security and longing, his towering height and chiseled muscles radiating strength and protection. just when i thought i could savor this moment forever, he stood close behind me, his breath teasing my neck as his fingers delicately swept my hair to one side. each soft kiss he planted along my neck ignited a flame deep within, intertwining the thrill of vulnerability with an insatiable desire to surrender to the allure unfolding between us.

charlie’s fingers slid teasingly down the delicate fabric of my dress, the soft material cascading off my shoulders like a whisper, revealing the perfectly tied red bows at the front that tantalizingly held it in place. with a sultry smirk, he pulled the dress down, letting it pool at my hips, exposing every seductive curve that made my heart race and his breath hitch. as his hands gripped my bum firmly, a playful slap ignited my skin, sending a thrill through me. i spun around, our lips crashing together with a fiery urgency that ignited the room, our kiss deepening, becoming a passionate dance of tongues seeking dominance. the air was thick with moans and the intoxicating backdrop of his lightly decorated home added an intimate ambiance that made this moment feel like a scene out of a forbidden film. god forgive me, but i craved this encounter more than i ever craved a visit to church; my back arched, pressing into his sturdy embrace as i melted against him, eager for more.

charlie broke away from the kiss to stare at my body admiring my white laced under garments that hugged every curve just right, my boobs almost spilling out the bra and cute panties with the red bow on top “you wore this just for me?”

charlie kept my leg lifted placing kisses on my inner thigh finally getting to my heat licking it slightly and eating me like i was his last supper

i pulled on his hair softly throwing my head back at the sudden pleasure

he puts a finger in me still kissing the clit pumping his finger in and out of me he pulls back standing up not letting me reach my climax which caused me to frown at the sudden urge to let go and not being able too

charlie's eyes gleamed with a mix of desire and mischief as he guided me towards the couch, his touch igniting a thrill that danced up my spine. the moment i settled into the soft cushions, i felt the weight of his gaze, like a fire tracing every curve and imperfection only he seemed to elevate to perfection.

my breath hitched, anticipation coiling tightly within me as he slowly unbuckled his pants, revealing the tantalizing outline of his bulge straining against dark, fitted underwear. heat rushed through me, and i couldn't help but gulp at the sight—he was an intoxicating blend of confidence and allure that left me utterly captivated.

charlie pushed me back lightly releasing himself from his underwear “grab your ankles and lay down” i do as told exposing myself to him grunting at the sight he spits on his hard cock jerking off slightly at the sight.

he enters into me, holding my legs and pulling me close, while i grip the soft cushions around me for support. he continues to thrust hard and fast, taking me to a climax that leaves me breathless.

this new sensation enveloped me, igniting a fire within that i could neither quench nor contain; it was a delicious addiction I never wanted to shake off.

charlie's whimpers and moans crescendoed around us, a symphony of ecstasy that threatened to veil my own gasps, which i fought to muffle—desperate to avoid drawing eyes our way

but charlie? he was under no such constraint, reveling in every intoxicating thrill, blissfully unaware of the world outside our bubble. the air crackled with unspoken desires, heightening the thrill, as I tried not to betray the wild yearning surging through every fiber of my being.

his strokes becoming sloppier and slower by the minute.

“so fucking wet and tight”.

i felt him twitching inside of me pulling out and releasing all over my stomach causing me to bit my lip at the unholy sight in front of me.

as charlie gently wiped the droplets of him from my skin with a soft towel, his smile illuminated the moment, filling the air with warmth and tenderness. his small kiss on my forehead felt like a promise of comfort and connection, a sweet reminder of the bond we shared.

as he handed me my dress with a reassuring grip on my hand, I felt an overwhelming sense of support, like he was there not just to help me get dressed, but to wrap me in his unwavering affection

once we were both ready, his arms encircled me in a secure embrace, and just before we stepped back into the world, he leaned in for one last kiss that lingered, an echo of love amidst the laughter and the chaos surrounding us.

as the door clicked shut behind us, a wave of adrenaline surged between us

thankfully, no curious eyes bore witness to our exit, or hell would’ve ensued. charlie led the way to his car, the tension palpable as he opened the passenger door for me, a silent promise hanging in the air that we were in this together

the moment his tires crunched over gravel, i glanced back to see my father emerge from the shadows of our porch, suspicion etched across his face, while charlie’s jaw tightened like a vice as he prepared for the inevitable storm. "someone said something, i know it," i spoke up, and without hesitation, charlie met his gaze with defiance. he might have been crossing a line, but that didn't matter; love was a risk he was more than willing to take—and hell hath no fury like a forbidden love.

[littlelamy]

behind-the-scenes: drew starkey x actress!reader

the camera’s red recording light blinked to life as you set it up on the tripod, adjusting the angle to capture the perfect behind-the-scenes footage for your latest youtube video. the studio was bustling with activity; lights were being positioned, crew members scurried around, and drew starkey, with his usual charm, was deep in conversation with the director.

you glanced at drew from the corner of your eye, his tall frame and easy smile drawing you in even amidst the chaos. today, you were filming a special behind-the-scenes look at the movie you were both working on. the video was meant to show the fun and excitement of the set, but you had a feeling it would reveal a lot more—especially with drew’s effortless charisma and your growing attraction towards him.

“hey, everyone!” you began, speaking into the camera. “welcome to today’s behind-the-scenes. i’m here with the one and only drew starkey, who’s about to give us an exclusive tour of the set.”

drew’s face lit up as he approached the camera, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “hey there, folks. ready to see what goes down when the cameras aren’t rolling?”

you nodded, trying to keep your composure as he stood just a bit too close. his cologne, a subtle blend of cedarwood and musk, enveloped you, making it hard to focus. drew’s presence was magnetic, and the chemistry between you was palpable, even if it was just a playful, teasing moment on camera.

as drew began showing off the different sets and props, he playfully interacted with you, his touch lingering a bit longer than necessary when he demonstrated something. each casual brush of his hand against yours or the way his fingers gently tapped your arm made your heart race. you tried to keep your tone light and professional, but it was increasingly difficult with drew’s attention so focused on you.

“let’s take a look at the main set,” drew said, guiding you toward the elaborate backdrop. “this is where the magic happens.”

as you walked, drew’s hand brushed against your lower back, sending a jolt through you. you glanced at him, catching his knowing smirk. it was clear he enjoyed the effect he had on you, and you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed it too. the camera was still rolling, but it was hard to keep up the pretense of professionalism when his touch was so electrifying.

at one point, drew stopped to adjust the camera’s angle for a better shot, his body pressing against yours. his breath was warm against your neck as he leaned in, his voice a soft whisper. “you know, we should probably get a bit closer for this part. it’ll look better on camera.”

you swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure. “closer?” you asked, your voice barely more than a breath.

“yeah,” he said, his lips brushing your ear. “closer.”

before you could react, drew’s hand slid around your waist, pulling you into a close embrace. the camera continued to record, capturing the intimate moment between the two of you. his touch was gentle but firm, and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat.

“see?” he said, his voice low and teasing. “much better.”

as the camera continued to roll, you found yourself lost in the moment, your eyes locked with drew’s. the behind-the-scenes video might have been about the movie, but it quickly turned into a captivating glimpse into the undeniable chemistry between you two.

you finished the segment with a playful smile, the camera capturing your flushed cheeks and the way drew’s eyes lingered on you. the video would undoubtedly leave fans buzzing, not just about the film but about the undeniable connection between you and drew.

and as the recording light finally dimmed, you knew that the behind-the-scenes footage had captured something far more personal and exhilarating—an unspoken affair that had only just begun.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @sunny1616 @willowpains

[xhoess]

One night?

Hugh jackman x fem bod reader

Masterlist words: 6.4k

After a one-night stand with 55-year-old Hugh Jackman, you feel awkward and try to avoid him. Meanwhile, Hugh confidently brags about it to your mutual friend, Ryan , who playfully meddles to bring you two together.

Warning: reader is lowkey hard to get, one night stand, unprotected sex (no mention of use of protection)

The evening air was alive with the buzz of social chatter, glasses clinking, and laughter resonating off the walls of a stylish loft downtown. You had been dragged out of your comfortable corner of solitude by your friend, Ryan Reynolds, who insisted that you needed some fun in your life. “Trust me, you won’t regret it,” he had said with that mischievous sparkle in his eyes that always hinted at trouble.

You weren’t so sure, but as you stepped into the lively atmosphere, you felt an electrifying shift. The dim lights, artfully placed, cast a warm glow over smiling faces, and an eclectic mix of music pulsed through the air, drawing people in. It didn’t take long before your reservations melted away, and you found yourself in a conversation with a group of familiar and unfamiliar faces.

And then you saw him—Hugh Jackman. The man was a phenomenon, both in presence and stature. He stood across the room, laughing heartily at something Ryan had said, his infectious energy making it hard for anyone not to smile simply at the sight of him. You’d seen him on-screen, the charismatic hero, the rugged romantic—all those roles where he effortlessly commanded attention. But seeing him in person was an entirely different experience, as if he radiated a warmth that drew people close.

After a few glasses of wine, you felt more daring. You joined in the laughter, and soon you found yourself at the center of attention, with Hugh leaning closer, his voice rich and dulcet. The two of you exchanged banter, playful teasing leading to more poignant moments. There was an undeniable chemistry, but you kept trying to rationalize it. He was a superstar, after all. This vivacity was just part of the package.

As the night deepened, Ryan made another appearance, raising his glass in a toast, playfully calling Hugh a “debonair devil” and throwing you into the spotlight. “Everyone, meet the incredible [Your Name]—the one who’s managed to actually keep up with our Hugh!” His words hung in the air, and you flushed at the attention. But instead of retreating, something inside you ignited.

The next few hours passed in a delightful haze. You lost track of time, your laughter blending with the music. More drinks led to more boldness, and before you knew it, you and Hugh were wandering off, away from the prying eyes of party-goers. He casually wrapped an arm around your shoulder, leaning in close as he whispered playful jokes, leaving trails of electricity in the air between you.

Eventually, you found yourselves in a secluded corner of the rooftop, the skyline of the city stretching beneath the starlit sky. The world felt far away, and in that moment, the spark turned into a wildfire. You kissed. One kiss quickly morphed into several, each more fervent than the last, a build-up of desire igniting the space between you. It was exhilarating and terrifying, and in his embrace, the age gap, fame, and reason all slipped away.

When the night finally turned into early morning, you bundled up in Hugh’s oversized jacket as you stumbled back inside, laughter still spilling from your lips. There was a softness to the quiet hours, a comforting intimacy that felt not just appropriate, but destined. Hugh is a true gentleman, even during the sex and you are happy you got to find that out.

Yet, as dawn crested over the city, reality came rushing in, and an urgent wave of self-awareness swept over you. Morning light filtered through the large windows, illuminating every detail of the loft—the coffee table strewn with discarded cups, your shoes haphazardly piled by the door. Hugh stirred beside you, his features softened in sleep, and you could hardly process the weight of what had happened.

You slipped out of bed, heart racing, panic clawing its way up as regret mingled with shock and embarrassment. What had you done? You never intended to become a fleeting escapade for someone like him, yet there you were. Barely muttering a goodbye, you rushed to dress, avoiding his sleepy gaze as you pushed through the door into the sunlight.

Outside, you took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp morning air. Your heart still raced, but not just from the remnants of exhilaration—doubt began to seep in. Did Hugh think this was all some grand joke? You knew you would have to confront him again, perhaps inevitably, and the very thought filled you with dread.

Bounding into the day, the encounter lingered heavy in your mind, and the weight of uncertainty settled in your chest. And in the back of your head, a nagging fear surfaced as you realized this wasn't just a one-off night. It was a fleeting moment that could hold consequences, not just for your heart but for how you'd navigate the world that now felt altered, charged.

As you moved through your day, rushing toward the familiar comforts of routine, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being caught in a whirlwind that had started with a laugh and a chemistry that simmered just below the surface. Would you plunge back into that world, face Hugh again, and risk the brittle facade of this night you now lived tangled in emotions? You weren’t sure, but one thing was certain—everything was different now.

The days turned into weeks, and time seemed to slip through your fingers like sand. The memory of that spontaneous night with Hugh Jackman haunted you, but not with the sweetness of nostalgia; instead, it lingered like an awkward itch you couldn’t scratch. You told yourself it was just a moment of misplaced passion, a blip on the radar of your usually controlled existence. Yet each encounter you avoided only intensified your feelings of embarrassment.

At work, you braced yourself for the inevitable moment of bumping into him. The open-plan office felt smaller, each cubicle a potential minefield. Your heart raced every time you heard footsteps echoing down the hall, and you were always caught off-guard when the laughter of your colleagues reached your ears, signifying a potential run-in with Hugh. You stuck to the kitchen and the far corners of your office like they were safe havens. Every time you spotted him, the warmth of his smile haunted your thoughts, and you’d scurry away like a mouse caught in the spotlight.

Your friends began to notice your odd behavior, and they found it amusing. As if they were part of a clandestine club, they would share whispers whenever you entered a room where Hugh was present. The urgency to escape their knowing glances made you feel small. You were convinced that they could hear your heart pounding in your chest, your cheeks flaming red.

One evening, a mutual friend of yours and Hugh’s, Ryan Reynolds, decided to host a gathering at his place. The list of invitees was promising—a mix of familiar faces and the usual suspects from the entertainment industry. You had hoped the guest list would deter Hugh and allow you to slip into the evening undetected, but as you entered the lively apartment filled with laughter and chatter, there he was, standing in the corner, casually sipping on a glass of whiskey, looking effortlessly charming.

You grabbed a drink from the bar and sought refuge in a group at the opposite end of the room, this time determined to blend in and keep your distance. Your heart raced every time you caught a glimpse of his broad shoulders and that infectious grin. When Ryan approached, smirking, and nudged you lightly, you decided to change the subject.

“Did you see the latest episode of that show we like?” you blurted out, desperate for an escape.

Ryan grinned widely, his deep-set dimples growing more pronounced. “Oh, come on. You’re not even trying to play it cool. Just look at him!” He gestured dramatically toward Hugh, who was now animatedly recounting some event to a group of adoring listeners. “You’ve got to admit there’s a certain kind of charm to him. Plus, he's quite the catch.”

Your stomach twisted at his words. “He’s Hugh Jackman. He’s a movie star for a reason. What would he want from me, anyway?”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “You seem to underestimate yourself. It’s not just about fame or looks; he clearly found something intriguing about you, too. Have you talked to him since… you know?” He leaned closer, lowering his voice theatrically. “The one-night stand?”

You shot him a glare, your face feeling hot again. “No, and I don’t plan to. I’m not interested in being someone’s fling, not now and not with him.”

Ryan chuckled, his laughter contagious. “Suit yourself, but you know avoidance doesn’t work forever. It’ll just make things more awkward when you finally do talk. Trust me, buddy. You either have to confront him or accept your fate as the queen of dodging Hugh Jackman at every social event in town.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in futility. Ryan had a point, but the thought of facing Hugh made you sick. You mentally berated yourself for allowing your life to spiral into this convoluted game of hide-and-seek with a man who seemed entirely unbothered by your embarrassment.

A slow current of tension poured through the room as you tried to engage in conversation with other guests, but every laugh, every joke, felt somehow muted when you knew Hugh was just a few feet away. It didn’t help that your thoughts kept betraying you, forever looping back to the memory of his touch, the warmth of his embrace, and the intoxicating thrill of the night you had shared.

As the night wore on, you found yourself perched on the edge of an armchair, a drink clutched in your hands, your pulse racing. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him across the room, his attention shifting from one friend to another. Ryan sauntered over, his aim on your emotional crutch as he settled beside you.

“You’re really living up to ‘avoidance game’ title,” he quipped lightly as he sipped his drink, leaving you to quietly groan in embarrassment. “What are you going to do when it’s just the two of you alone? Hide in the bathroom?”

“Shut up, Ryan.” You shot him a half-hearted jest, but the truth tugged at you from within. The urge to vanish from the room altogether was becoming harder to ignore.

To your horror, Ryan had zero intentions of letting the subject rest. With a devilish grin, he called out over the din. “Hey, Hugh! Come over here!”

You felt your throat go dry as panic swallowed you whole. Before you could protest, you discovered there was no easy escape; Hugh broke through the crowd toward you, his smile brightened with surprising enthusiasm.

“Hey, there!” he greeted, his voice smooth like aged whiskey. “We’ve got to stop running into each other this way. Are you casually dating or just playing hard to get?” His playful tone masked a serious undertone, leaving you speechless.

The laughter of others dissolved into the background as you met his gaze. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye that made you feel hilariously exposed. Suddenly, Ryan’s amused commentary faded, and the chatter around you became nothing but white noise.

Feigning nonchalance, you tried to muster a witty response, but your mind raced with conflicted thoughts. Just as you opened your mouth, however, Ryan interjected, refusing to let you hide. “Come on! Aren’t you going to admit how much fun you both had that night?”

Your heart plummeted as you caught sight of Hugh’s quirked brow. That single comment could either seal your fate or force you into uncharted territory.

You took a deep breath. “It was fun, sure, but it was just one night,” you managed to say. The words tasted bitter on your tongue, unintentionally cloaking your vulnerability.

Hugh leaned closer, a glimmer of intrigue sparking in his eyes. “Just one night can be quite a catalyst, you know. But I get it,” he said smoothly. “I was just saying it could be… more. If you’re open to that.”

His words rippled through you, deflating the air of retreat you’d clung to. You exchanged glances with Ryan, who bore a look of triumph, and felt a flicker of courage bloom in your chest. Maybe it was time to start facing your fears instead of running away.

The night went on, and while the laughter and conversations flowed, one fact remained clear: you could only avoid Hugh so long. It was time to take a step, however small, toward the possibilities ahead.

The days melted into a haze of awkward encounters and isolated avoidance. You hyper-extended your social calendar to dodge the chance of running into Hugh. Your daily routine became a game of evasive maneuvers, transforming grocery trips and coffee runs into tactical missions. You would glance around the corner of the café, peeking through the narrow opening, praying he wasn’t inside. Your friend circle, once a source of laughter, now felt like a confining labyrinth.

But Ryan Reynolds had other plans—a devilish mind full of schemes and mischief. You didn’t realize how invested he was in the unfolding amorous soap opera until an impending charity gala invitation arrived in your inbox. It read:

“Hey, you can’t miss this one! Hugh will definitely be there, and I’ll save you a dance! XOXO, Ryan.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of dread anchor itself in your stomach.

That evening, dressed in a sleek emerald gown, you stood before the mirror in your hallway, giving yourself one last pep talk. “It’s just one night. Get through it. Nothing to fear.” The familiar jingle of Ryan’s laughter echoed in your mind, but this time it struck a different chord. You mentally cursed him for playing matchmaker, knowing full well he would be waiting for the inevitable spectacle of your internal collapse.

When you arrived at the gala, the glimmer of extravagant decorations momentarily distracted you from your emotional turmoil. The venue was alive with chatter, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. You searched the ballroom, and amidst the chaos, you spotted Ryan’s gleaming smile against the crowd, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Then, you saw him: Hugh. He looked somehow both regal and entirely rebellious, in a tailored suit that clung to his form with effortless charm.

Your heart raced. It felt as if the universe had conspired to throw you into the lion’s den.

“Hey! You made it!” Ryan greeted you with exaggerated enthusiasm, effectively drawing your attention to Hugh, who was, tragically, making his way toward your small gathering. You exchanged panicked glances with Ryan, but there was no escape route—just your relentless heart drumming against your chest.

“Look who it is!” Hugh exclaimed with that signature grin that managed to light up the whole room. You couldn’t help but respond with a forced smile, suddenly very aware of the heat radiating from your cheeks.

“Hi, Hugh,” you managed, your voice coming out steadier than you felt.

“Got you all dolled up, huh?” His comment was playful, laced with teasing familiarity. You felt the anxiety begin to swirl again. Though the audience was largely indifferent, Ryan leaned closer with his trademark smirk, as if reveling in the banter between you two.

“Oh, it’s been a while since I dressed up. Didn’t think I’d find you here,” you said, trying your best to sound relaxed while grappling with the tension in your own words.

“Ryan insisted I swing by,” he said casually, motioning towards Ryan, who clearly found amusement in your awkward exchange. “He’s been raving about all the beautiful faces here tonight.”

At this point, it was clear He was getting a kick out of your flustered demeanor, while Ryan, the instigator, was eagerly observing the spice of your misadventure with barely contained laughter.

“By the way, I’ve heard some nasty rumors about you avoiding me. Let’s debunk them now, shall we?” Hugh asked, his tone teasing yet somehow probing deeper than anything Ryan could dream up.

You felt your insides twist. “Avoid? Me?” The denial rolled off your tongue before you could even process those ridiculous feelings of shame.

Hugh leaned closer; his eyes glinted with something mischievous, perhaps even a challenge. “Sure. But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

Just then, Ryan interjected, “What’s going on here? I thought this was a gala, not an interrogation!” His laughter rang merrily through the tension, lightening the mood a fraction yet also amplifying your sense of confinement.

“Don’t mind me. I was just appreciating the chemistry,” Hugh replied, his tone laced with flirtation.

You felt your lips press together firmly to suppress whatever might escape. “Well, I’m happy you found it amusing,” you retaliated, your nerve momentarily bolstered by indignation. Ryan’s laughter resonated around you like salt on your wounds.

“Let me ask you this,” Hugh continued, looking at you, his famous brow furrowed with determination. “What are you so afraid of? You’ve got me intrigued.”

Your heart kicked in at his words. Intrigued? Was it that simple? You caught a glimpse of sincerity in his eyes somewhere beneath the lighthearted banter, as if he was feigning levity to mask genuine interest.

Before you could respond, Ryan jumped in with a grand orchestration. “Alright, let’s get the dancing started!” He whisked you away, and despite the crowd surging past you, you felt a subtle pull to where Hugh was standing, eyes lingering over both you and Ryan.

As you danced, your thoughts revolved around the mess of your emotions, the fun and confidence in face of uncertainty somehow intertwined with an undeniable charm. Ryan continued attempting to match orchestrations that would leave you both in funny situations.

But ultimately, it was the persistent voice of Hugh’s laughter and charisma echoing throughout the room that cast an undeniable shroud over your every thought. Ryan’s meddling had only intensified the reality—you were drawn to this man, this older man, despite all your attempts to convince yourself otherwise.

Unbeknownst to Ryan, who was orchestrating his playful havoc, you could feel the walls starting to crumble. Hugh’s undeniable charm kept you hanging on each word, and deep down, you sensed that perhaps this could still lead someplace unexpected—even if it meant letting go of your fears in the process.

Tonight might be the night you had to confront your own feelings—for better or worse.

The weeks following that fateful night had been a whirlwind of awkward social engagements and an assortment of encounters with Hugh Jackman that left you bombarded with mixed emotions. Each time you saw him, your heart raced, and you felt the heat of embarrassment crawl up your neck. All your efforts to hide away—from cozy cafes to spontaneous happy hours—proved futile when your closest friend, Ryan Reynolds, couldn’t resist pulling you both into the same orbit.

Life turned into a game of avoidance, but the irony was that the more you avoided Hugh, the more his playful demeanor shone through, like a beacon drawing you in. No matter how you tried to be indifferent, each encounter left you flustered and conflicted as Hugh’s cocky grin made your resolve waver. You were becoming increasingly aware, however, that he wasn’t merely playing. There was a persistent undercurrent of genuine interest in his gaze.

But that day—today—you could take it no longer. You were tired of squabbling with your emotions, tired of feeling like you were hiding from the world. No more dancing around it. You had to confront him. In your mind, a million phrases swirled as you prepared for this moment. “Is this a joke for you?” “Do you even care?” “What do you want?”

Arming yourself with an unflinching resolve, you decided to confront Hugh at a coffee shop where the three of you had agreed to meet for brunch. When you arrived, you noticed him already seated, a radiant smile gracing his handsome features as he spoke animatedly with Ryan. Their laughter floated high, light and easy.

Taking a deep breath—and ignoring the flutter in your stomach—you strode up to them, trying to project an air of calm confidence. Ryan’s eyes caught yours first, and his playful smirk grew wider, silently cheering you on. “Ah, look who decided to join us!” he said, leaning back in his chair.

Hugh’s gaze flickered up, and though his smile remained, there was a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. “Hey, you! You still look like you’re avoiding a hangman’s noose!”

“Can we talk?” you said, giving him no room to wiggle out of your demands. “Just you and me.” You gestured for Ryan to leave, and he caught on quickly, winking as he made his way to order more coffee. The air felt charged with tension as you found yourself sitting across from Hugh, whose casual demeanor slowly shifted when he sensed the seriousness of your tone.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, leaning back, arms crossed, an edge of amusement behind his gaze.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to find the right words to articulate the mess of feelings swirling inside. “I… I’ve been thinking about that night we spent together,” you began, feeling all the warmth drain out of your cheeks. “And how you seem to treat it like—like it’s just a funny story to tell. Meanwhile, I’ve been the one feeling all sorts of things, trying to figure out what it meant.”

His brows knitted together, surprise darting across his face. “You think I treat it like a joke?” His voice lowered, and you could feel a shift in the atmosphere. “I’ve been talking to Ryan about it because, quite frankly, that night with you was more than what I expected.”

You blinked, the words catching you off guard. “What do you mean?”

He leaned forward, his casual demeanor washing away, replaced by a raw sincerity that you hadn’t seen before. “Listen, it was fun and spontaneous. Sure, I may have bragged a bit to Ryan, but it’s because I actually liked it—liked you. I wasn’t expecting to feel a connection like that, even if it was one night. I’ve been thinking about you far more than I anticipated.”

Your heart raced, anger and disappointment gradually subsiding to intrigue as you tried to digest his words. “But how can you say that? You’re Hugh Jackman! You have women throwing themselves at your feet, and I just…” You paused, feeling vulnerable. “I thought you saw me as just a fleeting adventure.”

His expression softened, and he shook his head. “You’re not just a fleeting adventure. You caught my attention in more ways than one, and I’m here hoping we can explore that.”

For a moment, the restaurant faded away, and you could only focus on the honesty etched in his gaze. The air hummed with possibility, and their laughter felt distant, like an echo. “So, what does that mean?” you asked, quietly bracing yourself for his answer.

“It means I’d like to see you again, properly this time. No braggadocio. Just us,” he said, his voice steady and inviting, allowing gentle hope to ripple through the space between you. “But that’s only if you’re willing, of course.”

You took a moment to process it all. There was a genuine sincerity in Hugh’s words that sent both excitement and trepidation coursing through you. He was serious; he truly wanted something more.

After a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, you found your voice. “I think I’d like that,” you said, heart thumping loudly in your chest. “But I want us to take our time. No rushing, just… getting to know each other.”

A smile spread across Hugh’s face, and in that moment, all the insecurities that had piled up began to dissipate under the warm glow of what could be. “I can do that,” he said, and in that exchange, you felt a sense of relief and liberation wash over you.

As Ryan returned with steaming cups of coffee, his eyes darted between the two of you, practically vibrating with curiosity. You shot him a smile, and his relief echoed yours—this conversation had been long overdue. The future felt bright as the conversation flowed freely, and the tension of the past began to blend into laughter and genuine connection.

The unexpected night had transformed into a new beginning, one filled with promise and the exhilarating anticipation of what was to come.

The flickering candlelight cast gentle shadows on the walls of your favorite little bistro. It was the perfect backdrop for an evening that promised to be both anxiety-inducing and thrilling. You sat at the table, nervously twisting your napkin, a small wave of disbelief rolling over you. Here you were, on a date with Hugh Jackman. Just days ago, the thought of being near him made your stomach churn with a mixture of embarrassment and confusion, but tonight was different. Tonight, there was a chance for something more, something real.

Hugh arrived ten minutes late, as expected. There was a certain charm to his lackadaisical attitude, and any potential annoyance you might have felt quickly melted away when you saw him stride through the door. He wore a fitted blazer over a casual shirt, his hair tousled just enough to give off an effortlessly handsome vibe. The moment his dark eyes met yours, a smile spread across his face, and suddenly, it was as if the world beyond those doors faded away.

“Hey there, stranger,” he said with an easy confidence, pulling out your chair before sinking into his own opposite you. “Apologies for being late. I got sidetracked discovering the lowest rated movie in my collection.”

“Please tell me you didn’t actually watch it,” you replied, trying to maintain a lighthearted tone despite the fluttering nerves in your stomach.

He chuckled, leaning forward slightly, the candlelight illuminating the laughter lines around his eyes. “I couldn’t resist. A curiosity like that tangles with a gift,” he teased, his voice low and cool. “But enough about me—this night is all about you. Tell me what I should know about the real you that I missed in our initial… let’s call it a rendezvous.”

You felt the heat creeping up your cheeks and hesitated. “I’m not sure there’s much to tell. Just your average 35-year-old coping with a midlife existential crisis, wondering when it’s going to stop being so hard to find a decent dating app.”

He laughed again, a deep, warm sound that made your heart race a little faster. “Ah, behold the average woman. If only they knew what a gem they were missing out on.”

The conversation flowed easily from there, drifting through topics of childhood memories, cinematic favorites, and that dreaded question of where you see yourself in five years. With each shared laugh and stolen glance, your embarrassment about your initial encounter began to fade. Under the surface of playful banter was a palpable connection, strong and undeniable.

After dessert—the perfect mix of rich chocolate mousse and a shared slice of cherry pie—you suggested heading back to your place to let Hugh meet your cat, Oliver. He leaned back, a playful spark in his eyes as he raised an eyebrow.

“Your cat? What’s the protocol? Should I come in with a peace offering of tuna or simply wow him with my charm?”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “A little bit of both wouldn’t hurt.”

As you arrived at your apartment, you were hit by a wave of uncertainty. Would Oliver take kindly to your illustrious guest? The last thing you wanted was for Hugh to feel uncomfortable petting a cat that determined the rules of engagement.

Inside, Oliver, your fluffy ball of mischief and warmth, immediately strutted over to Hugh and inspected him with an air of royal disdain. Hugh knelt down, extending a hand. “Greetings, noble feline. I come in truce and admiration for your majestic reign over this castle.”

Somewhere deep within you, laughter bubbled up, and for a moment, the awkwardness lay forgotten. Hugh scratched beneath Oliver’s chin, and you watched, captivated, as the cat melted under his touch. “He seems to approve,” you said, feeling lightheaded with relief.

As the evening wore on, and the bottle of wine you’d shared began to take effect, you felt a warm flush of confidence wash over you. Hugh, on the other hand, had relaxed into a more vulnerable state. He shared stories from his past—triumphs and failures, moments of joy that shaped him, and doubts that sometimes seeped through his confident facade. It struck you how rare this side of him was, and your attraction grew deeper, fed by a blend of admiration and genuine rapport.

“Can I admit something?” he said after a long pause. His gaze rested on you, earnest and unshielded. “After that night, I wasn’t sure what to think. I found myself intrigued by you in ways I hadn’t anticipated.”

Your heart raced. His honesty disarmed you. “I felt the same way,” you admitted softly. “But I was embarrassed. I thought you saw it as just a fling.”

He shook his head slowly, a half-smile playing on his lips. “When I braggadociously told Ryan about you, I was trying to mask my own surprise at how drawn I am to you. What we shared was undoubtedly intense, but the depth we’ve explored tonight feels even more thrilling.”

There was a weight to his words, and in that charged moment, everything shifted. The distance that had lingered before this night closed in, replaced with an electric tension. You leaned closer, surrendering to the undeniable chemistry cultivated through laughter and shared moments.

And then, without thinking, you reached out, your fingertips brushing against his. It was a mere whisper of a touch, but the air around you crackled with anticipation. He responded by leaning in, his breath soft on your skin, eyes dark and searching for confirmation.

You found yourself in Hugh's embrace once again, the chemistry between you palpable. His lips met yours, a tender exploration that soon turned passionate. As you kissed, you could feel your bodies yearning for each other, the connection between you undeniable.

"May I?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as his hands found their way to your waist.

You nodded, feeling every heartbeat echo in your ears as he closed the space between you. Your bodies pressed against each other, the heat between you intense.

As you pulled away, breathless, a soft smile graced his lips, revealing the thrill of vulnerability shared. "Why don't we make this a regular thing?" he suggested, his voice now thick with emotion.

You grinned, heart swelling with possibility. "I'd like that. More than you know."

You led him to your bedroom, shedding clothes as you went. Your bodies entwined, hands exploring, mouths tasting. The anticipation built as you kissed and touched each other, the pleasure mounting.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," he groaned as he entered you, your bodies becoming one. You moved together, every thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

you moaned, your bodies slick with sweat. "Don't stop."

As the night unfolded, every moment felt richer than the last. The sex was intense and passionate, fueled by desire and a deep connection. Every touch, every kiss, every thrust was filled with emotion and meaning.

"Yes, fuck, yes," you cried out as you reached your peak, your body trembling with pleasure. He followed soon after, his body shuddering as he cum inside you.

As you lay in each other's arms, spent and satisfied, you knew that this was the beginning of something special. The unexpected had led to the most beautiful new beginning.

[borgialucrezia]

netflix was kinda nasty for not promoting this powerful dynamic as they did with their other shows

[suave1foru]

Find yours

[creamhoodie]

You Belong To Me

AN: Short Gojo drabble, he fails at being friends with benefits with you. tags: nsfw, fwb, afab reader, satoru gojo x reader

“What are you doing here with him?” a voice you’d recognize anywhere asks. His fingers run down your bare skin, the open back of your dress giving him easy access. 

You look up at him, his eyes blind folded but you know him well enough to recognize when he seems irritable by the rigid line his mouth formed. 

“I’m on a date, what does it look like, Gojo?” you reply, taking a sip of your shot that the bartender placed in front of you. 

Strobe lights and techno music filled the nightclub making him look more striking as the lights hit his white hair.

“Since when are we back to last name basis?” Satoru chuckles. 

His fingers still grace your back, the brief contact is enough to be electrifying, he knows just as much, seeming almost smug about the effect he has on you. 

“Since you interrogate me about my personal life,” you reply.

You look around, your date had wandered off to the restroom a few minutes ago and should be back soon. 

“Am I not part of your personal life? As I remember you and I were close just a few nights ago,” he teases. 

Your mind flashes back to being tangled in his sheets, him on top of you and you moaning his name as he-

“I remember,” you say, stopping your thoughts in their tracks,”but I also remember the terms of our.. ‘relationship.’”

He laughs. 

“You’re mad at me?” He asks. He bends down so he’s right at your earlobe, nibbling lightly. All the while his fingers stay drawing figures into your skin. 

“I am not mad,” you reply.

A lie. 

Oh yes you knew the terms of your relationship with him well. You had a friends with benefits arrangement with him. He had told you from the beginning ‘I don’t do relationships.’ 

That did nothing to dwindle the chemistry between the two of you and so several nights of the week you’d stay over at his place. You had reminded yourself, just because he laid kisses down your neck,breathed in your scent, and held onto you as if you were the anchor holding him to this Earth it didn’t mean he loved you. 

So it shouldn’t have come as a shock when you saw another woman’s perfume and hygiene items at his place one evening.

“You know what I think,” he places a kiss on your shoulder that sends shivers down your spine,”I think you’re a liar.”

A throat clears making you jump. 

Your date is back. 

He’s the type of man no one wants to see a woman they're involved with accompanied by. He’s muscular with dark cropped hair. You barely knew him, he had only propositioned you by contacting you through your socials.

“Oh Gojo this is my date,” you say.

Satoru takes his time straightening up, his lips remaining on your shoulder as if he’s almost daring your date to say something about it. He doesn’t.

At last Satoru straightens up and outstretches a hand.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. 

Your date goes to shake it but he can’t seem to reach, almost as if there’s a barrier preventing him from touching Satoru. 

“Can you give us a moment alone?” you ask your date. 

He seems flushed from the handshake mishap and obliges.

When he’s out of earshot you turn to Satoru.

“That was mean of you, toying with him like that,” you say. 

Satoru tsks. 

“You’re seriously not gonna go home with that guy right?” he asks tugging at a strand of your hair. 

“And if I do, what business is it of yours?” you counter.

You guzzle the full shot glass now, it burns down your throat. 

“It is my business, because I care about you. Trust me I’m familiar with guys like him and they are no good,” he says. 

“And you’re better?” 

He laughs.

“In more ways than you can imagine.” 

You ask the bartender for another shot but Satoru waves him off.

“Hey-“ 

“You don’t need any more of that. You’re gonna wind up getting drunk,” he says. 

You face him fully now as your annoyance with him is at a peak. You don’t have to see his eyes to know he’s staring at your cleavage.

“Come home with me,” he says, his voice full of heat and lust. 

“I’m on a date,” you remind him. 

He scoffs.

“The nightclub? Some date. He only wants to fuck you.”

“And you don’t? What are you doing here anyways?” Perhaps he was also here with someone, you wouldn’t put it pass him. Maybe he was here with the mysterious woman whose products were back at his place.

“I’m here because you’re here, and you belong to me.”

____

“Mmm, just like that baby,” he whispers, his fingers spread your folds. He relishes your arousal.

His blind fold, long removed, serves as a sort of handcuff for you, tying your hands above your head on his bed frame. 

“Toru.. untie me,” you plead. You long to touch him, his white hair especially which was always so sinfully soft. 

“Not yet. You were a bad girl going out like that,” he says stern.

His fingers push upwards, just enough to soak themselves inside of you. When he retracts them, he brings them up to your lips with the simple demand of “suck.” 

You do, opening your mouth to taste yourself on his thick fingers. He watches, his blue eyes total flames full of lust. 

He pushes his fingers deeper, just down your throat enough to make you gag. He can be so mean when he’s jealous as you’re finding out. 

Pulling back his fingers, he begins to undo his belt.

“Toru my arms hurt,” you beg. 

“And you didn’t think it hurt for me to see you with someone else like that?” he asks, unyielding. 

His pants and boxers have been removed for his big cock to be plopping out, it’s firm already, the tip angry and reddened. 

He shoves it against your lips.

“Open up,” he pants. 

Your lips open around his shaft and you begin to suck him off. His hands go to your head, hands on each side to stabilize you and force you to take him. He helps you, bobbing your head up and down, his cock hitting the back of your throat. It burns even more than the shot did and tears begin to stream from your eyes.

“You’re so dumb, you’re so dumb baby were you going to let him fuck you? You don’t need anyone else, you have me.” 

You wanted to remind him that he’s the one who said he doesn’t do relationships, he’s the one who had told you not to expect exclusivity. But he was full of himself; his statement might have been only applicable for himself, and you were full of him, unable to speak, unable to do anything else but moan in muffles as his cock rammed your throat. 

You feel him finish, the saltiness of his fluid running down your throat. He pulls out of your mouth, letting you swallow and recollect yourself. 

“Toru, my arms,” you pant, catching your breath. 

He goes to untie you, and as your hands slip free you reach for him but there’s an invisible barrier..

“Turn it off Satoru, that's not fair!” you cry out. 

“Why should I? You have your little boyfriend to touch don’t you?” he teases. 

He’s enjoying this, making you grovel.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He sent me a DM and asked if I wanted to meet up,” you explain. 

He lifts a brow and cocks his head to the side.

“How romantic,” he sneers. 

“Satoru please. I’m sorry just turn it off,” you beg. You watch as he makes matters worse by removing his shirt, his muscles exposed. He knows that you loved touching them, loved running your hands over his abs and especially his muscled back whilst he was inside you. 

“I’ll turn it off when you answer why you went out with him,” he says. 

You’re frustrated both emotionally and sexually. 

“Because you said we’re not exclusive. You said you don’t do relationships,” you remind him. 

He huffs.

“Never bothered you before,” he says. 

“Well I just think it’s hypocritical that you get to have women over leaving their belongings but god forbid I go out on a date.”

His eyes widen in understanding at your words, followed by a playful twinkle. 

The barrier comes down and he comes up to you, kissing your lips passionately. Your hands run through his hair and he moans. His soft tongue connects with yours and you feel like he may devour you, may swallow you whole. 

Suddenly, he repositions you so you’re laying on your stomach and he pins your hands behind your back all in one swift motion.

He leans down so he can speak right into your ear.

“I know what I said. But you’re mine. You belong to me. What I do or don’t do doesn’t change that. You’ll always be mine when I want you.” 

Then you hear the ripping of your dress as he discards it and your panties off you completely. You hadn’t been wearing a bra, a fact he had noticed all too well when he had been staring at your cleavage in the club. 

You moan as you feel his length drag down your back like a wand all the way down until it was pressed between your wet folds. 

“F-fuck..so fucking tight,” he groans as he shoves his way in from the back. “This is my pussy. All mine. Don’t need some idiot ruining what belongs to me.” 

He’s bottomed out inside of you and your hands grip the bed sheets as he begins to thrust. 

“Satoru.. not so fast,” you moan as you feel his hands gripping your hair. 

But he’s grunting, and not holding back. 

“Feels so fucking good,” he moans delirious. 

The thing about Satoru is he can forget how well endowed he is, well not truly forget he is much too prideful for that, but he fails to understand just how it can feel for you. It’s only when you reach around and grip his wrist that he slows down a bit, laughing. “Sorry baby, I know it can be too much.” 

He slides out of you reluctantly and turns you on your back so you’re facing him. He puts you both in an intimate mating press as he slides into your pussy from the front now. He drives himself in so deep all the way into you until it’s at the base. 

“Mmm.. that’s it. Can you feel me here?” He asks his hand pressing down on your stomach where his thick dick bulges, your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Yes, ‘Toru. I feel you,” you cry out. 

“Good because you’re mine. You understand that? Get that into your pretty little head only I can fuck you here.”

He gives you a sloppy tongue filled kiss while he moves inside you, slowly and deliberately. You feel every ridge, every detail of his flesh and you can feel his pulse inside of you like it’s your own. 

Your hips buck up to meet his thrusts, needing more of him as the two of you kiss. 

You’re breathless as his lips move to your neck and still his strokes are so deliberately slow as if he wants you to memorize how he feels. 

Your hands go to his muscled back now, loving to leave scratches and love marks and he throws his head back and groans. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum, and it’s going right inside of you. I don’t wanna hear any protests, you got it?” He says his eyes are possessive and wild. 

You nod, in the mood he’s in right now you doubt anyone could talk him out of anything. 

His strokes are faster now, the lewd sounds of wet skin against skin along with your shared moans fill the room. 

By the curling of your toes you can feel your own orgasm coming.

“I wanna hear you say you’re mine. Need to hear you say it,” he practically demands.

“I’m yours. All yours Satoru.”

Your grip on him is so tight and he all but explodes into you. It doesn’t seem to stop after the initial burst, a steady stream flowing into you.

“Yeah.. fuck.. milk me,” he moans riding out his high. He’s not selfish in bed however for him true pleasure comes from getting you off so he rides out his orgasm, hitting your sweet gummy spot over and over.

His hands grip your breasts, playing with the sensitive nipples and causing you to gasp in ecstasy. When he leans forward and sucks on your tit that along with his continuous hitting of your sensitive spot causes you to orgasm.

The sensation is like falling off a cliff, a high only he’s been able to consistently bring you to. The two of you lay there for a moment holding onto each other’s sweaty bodies and catching your breath. Of course it is Satoru that breaks the silence.

“Can your little boyfriend make you feel that good?” 

______

After cleaning up, you’re in bed with Satoru. This isn’t new of course, he isn’t the type to kick you out even if it is a friends with benefits situation. 

The difference is before the two of you would watch tv or be on your phones, or he’d roll over and go to sleep.

Tonight is different.

He had held out his arms and told you to “come here.”

So you lay against his chest as he stroked your hair. 

It’s strange at first, but it feels right and so natural.

He clears his throat.

“So listen…will you be seeing that guy again?” he asks, trying to appear nonchalant.

You look up at him.

“No, I won’t.” 

He visibly relaxes.

“Good,” he says, the corner of his mouth slipping upwards into a smile.

“And you?” you ask.

He furrows his brow in confusion.

“What about me?” he asks.

“What about your mystery woman? The ones who has her items here,” you say with resentment in your voice. 

He shakes his head and laughs. 

“I bought those things for you, for when you stay over. I didn’t know what you used so I just bought some luxury brands. I just wanted the place to be stocked in case you ever forgot anything,” he says. 

You blush at his words. The only reason you had even gone out with that guy was because you were under the impression Satoru was entertaining someone else.

“And how do I know you don’t keep the place stocked for other women you bring over?” you ask.

His face darkens and is serious.

“Because there are no other women. Not for me. There’s only you.”

He says it with such sincerity you have to believe him.

“Sounds pretty exclusive…” your voice trails. 

“I want it to be. Tonight made me realize that I minded, no I more than minded seeing you with someone else,” he says. 

“Then how come before you said you don’t do relationships or any of that stuff?” you ask confused. 

He sighs and strokes your hair for a bit before answering.

“I have a habit of loving too hard. I can be suffocating, this you know well. I can be jealous. I can be too much. I just didn’t want to stifle you or scare you away. But I don’t want to leave it open ended anymore because that’s not the solution either. I can’t watch other guys try to swoop in.” 

His blue eyes look a thousand years old for a moment, then they are back to their playful self.

“So where does that leave us?” you ask. 

“It means you are stuck with me forever, baby. Whether you like it or not.”

AN: I am obsessed with possessive, jealous Gojo so I will be drabbling a lot about that. Also I described the date like Toji on purpose as an Easter Egg :)

[forthegothicheroine]

I've made a post about great lesser-known noirs, but it occurs to me that some of you might not be familiar with the classics, and might want to know where to start. This is a ridiculously short list- I have a million more to talk about- but here are some of the big stars of the genre.

The Maltese Falcon: Sam Spade, a clever but callous private detective, gets wrapped up in intrigue relating to an artifact that is functionally cursed. If he's an unscrupulous character, just wait until you meet everyone else. The whole damn cast is electrifying, lending charm and cruelty in equal measure.

The Big Sleep: Philip Marlowe, a kinder and more poetic detective for Humphrey Bogart to play than Spade, is called upon to deal with a wealthy, dysfunctional family, and it keeps on getting weirder from there. Is the sharp-tongued Vivian Sternwood the femme fatale she seems, or is she just another person trying to find the right thing to do in desperate circumstances? And will she and Marlowe keep their hands off each other until the plot has had its last twist?

Double Indemnity: Rich housewife Phyllis Dietrichson and sleazy insurance agent Walter Neff are, by their own admission, rotten people. It's only natural that they should plot a murder together, and that they should turn on each other the very second things go wrong. Every single domestic murder movie since 1944 has ripped this off.

Kiss Me Deadly: This is nominally an adaptation of a Mike Hammer story. Screenwriter Bezzerides hated Mike Hammer. As depicted here, he is one of the worst people in the world. Depending on the cut of the film you see, he may inadvertently cause the nuclear apocalypse. (For once, the theatrical cut is darker.)

Sweet Smell of Success: Cruel, all-powerful columnist JJ Hunsecker wants his sister's boyfriend out of the way (for reasons that are, um, ambiguous.) To accomplish this, he enlists the biggest weasel in New York, Sidney Falco, and the two completely deserve each other as they spend the rest of the movie trading elaborate insults. Popular on tumblr for its dialogue and chemistry between the leads.

Sunset Boulevard: Broke screenwriter Joe Gillis thinks he can con a has-been into hiring him as a script doctor, and that's the last free decision he ever gets to make. From then on, his life is in the hands of Norma Desmond, silent film starlet turned crazed recluse, terrifying yet intensely pitiable. This is as much gothic horror as noir.

Ace in the Hole: The story of a man trapped in a cave is turning out to be a big hit in the newspaper, and if the publicity will make a reporter's career, then what's the harm in delaying rescue just for a little while? This is as vicious as noir gets, but damn it, you've just got to see what happens next. (Watch Jacob Geller's video Fear of the Depths after this.)

Sorry Wrong Number: Of all the films on this list, this is the one that really scared me. In the days of switchboards, a rich hypocondriac woman is connected to the wrong phone line and overhears a murder being planned. It doesn't take her long to figure out she's the intended victim, and each call she makes or recieves makes the situation darker. But how can she escape her fate if she can't- or won't leave her bed?

The Asphalt Jungle: The heist movie. Maybe the only heist movie ever made. Every line is quotable. Every member of the team is an unforgettable personality. When things go wrong, they go horribly wrong. One minute you're laughing, and the next minute you think you'll never laugh again.

Gun Crazy: Laurie and Bart, two practiced sharpshooters, are perhaps the most perfect match in all of noir- and that's a bad thing. When one half of the duo gets a criminal idea in their head, the other can't say no. When the opportunity to ditch her man like a sap comes up, the femme fatale throws it away to be doomed at his side. He fell in love with her when she first aimed a gun at him. Quentin Tarantino kissed star Peggy Cummins's feet at a showing of the film, and I hope she kicked him in the head.

Laura: Everyone was in love with Laura Hunt, and somebody killed her- or did they? Did they get the right person? Is the cop on the case in love with a dead woman? Was her columnist mentor just her gay best friend, or was there something darker beneath that facade? And what would Laura think of all this? A big inspiration on Twin Peaks.

In a Lonely Place: Bogart isn't at all heroic here, as a screenwriter with a drinking habit and a violent temper. He's obviously a bad idea to date, but just how bad an idea? He's not the type of guy who'd kill a woman, is he? Bogart and Gloria Holden give perhaps their best performances here, and they'll wound your soul.

Touch of Evil: A Mexican cop (played, unfortunately, by Charlton Heston) finds out a nasty secret about the big hero cop Hank Quinlan: he's framed the culprit in most of his cases. Not because he's crooked, but because his intuition tells him they're guilty. Director Orson Welles as Quinlan is frightening, grotesque, and a little bit tragic in what some consider the last classic noir.

The Killers: The first twenty minutes or so are an adaptation of a Hemingway story, where out of town hitmen gun down a man so depressed he won't even bother to run from them. The rest of the film is an investigation into how he got that way. It had something to do with a radiant gangster's girl, and something to do with a few botched crimes. Sometimes a man can die before the bullets even touch him.

The Third Man: Everybody is lying about the whereabouts of an American expatriate named Harry when his friend comes looking. Did they do something to him? Or, more frightening still, is he the one who's been doing things to other people? Orson Welles is a more charming monster than he was in Touch of Evil; the light and shadows on his face cast him as a vampire, while his fingers sticking up through the sewer grate look like something terrifying emerging from the earth.

[plutonianeris]

can u do mars pluto synastry like u did the other post pretttyyy please!!!!!

Pluto trine/sextile Mars synastry vibes:

Mars Person: "I never wanted to fight for someone like this, but it’s impossible to turn away. You ignite something primal in me."

Pluto Person: "You don’t have to turn away. This is what transformation feels like. We’re both evolving, whether we want it or not."

Magnetic attraction, explosive chemistry, primal lust, raw sexual tension, irresistible pull, dominance and submission dance, fierce loyalty forged in fire, obsessive desire to conquer and claim, transformative passion that leaves you breathless, relentless pursuit of each other, heated arguments leading to even hotter make-ups, animalistic intensity, power play that blurs into pleasure, pushing each other to the edge, exhilarating challenges that fuel desire, unquenchable thirst for more, craving each other’s energy like an addiction, passion that devours boundaries, dangerous temptation that’s impossible to resist, raw vulnerability exposed in the heat of the moment, breaking down walls with pure desire,

deep emotional bonding through shared intensity, seductive power games, primal satisfaction in every encounter, a constant battle for control that keeps the fire burning, thrilling unpredictability, driving each other to heights never imagined, electrifying connection that dominates every aspect of life, passion that consumes everything in its path, lovers, fighters, and partners in crime, pushing limits together, equal parts destruction and creation, no holding back, no limits, a fiery dance of love and power, fused by passion, unbreakable in the heat of intensity. ❤️‍🔥🔥

Intense passion, transformative energy, and a raw, almost volcanic attraction. The connection between Mars and Pluto in this aspect burns deep, motivating both to confront their shadows and desires. There's a fierce desire to push boundaries together, triggering each other's ambition and primal instincts. They aren’t just lovers or partners. they become catalysts for each other's personal growth.

Mars feels like they've found someone who can handle their power and intensity, while Pluto is drawn to the raw, unfiltered energy Mars exudes. Together, they create a couple where challenges fuel deeper passion and growth. It’s not just about physical attraction; it’s a full-body, full-soul experience that pushes both toward self-discovery. This is the kind of relationship where both feel invincible, where they face obstacles together with unrelenting force.

Pluto Square/Opposition/Conjunct Mars Synastry Vibes:

Mars Person: "I feel like I’m walking a line between desire and destruction with you..."

Pluto Person: "Don’t walk away. We’re both here to break and rebuild each other."

Magnetic attraction that hits like a storm, explosive chemistry that threatens to consume them whole, primal lust that fuels every glance, every touch. It’s an irresistible pull, drawing them together like forces of nature, caught in a dance of dominance and submission where neither truly wants to be free. This is fierce loyalty forged in fire, an obsessive desire to conquer and claim, to own each other fully in body and soul. A transformative passion that leaves them breathless, unable to look away, relentless in the pursuit of each other.

Arguments ignite like wildfire, only to lead to make-ups hotter than the fight itself, an animalistic intensity that feels primal, untamed. Power play blurs into pleasure, each partner pushing the other to the very edge, testing limits just to feel the exhilaration. An unquenchable thirst to devour each other’s energy, like an addiction that runs too deep to shake. This is passion without boundaries, a dangerous temptation impossible to resist, where raw vulnerability is exposed in the heat of the moment. Walls crumble, torn down by pure, unbridled desire. There’s a deep, almost unbreakable bond, forged in the shared intensity that both thrills and terrifies.

For the Mars person, this relationship is electrifying, a thrill that awakens a level of intensity they may not have experienced before. Mars feels alive, as if they’ve found someone who challenges them, someone who doesn’t back down or shy away from the power Mars exudes. Pluto’s depth pulls Mars in like a magnet, and Mars feels both seen and respected in a way that feeds their drive and courage. In Pluto, Mars finds a partner who’s unafraid of the boldness they bring someone who can handle their fiery energy, channeling it into something meaningful.

For the Pluto person, this connection is equally transformative but on a deeply psychological level. Pluto feels that Mars brings their own hidden desires to the surface, unearthing feelings and motivations Pluto might have kept buried. Mars’s directness and vitality break down Pluto’s walls, pushing them to confront their own fears, insecurities, and passions. Pluto is mesmerized by the sheer force of Mars’s energy, seeing it as a spark that can ignite change and growth within themselves. There’s something both irresistible and slightly dangerous about Mars to Pluto, as if this person could expose their vulnerabilities yet somehow make them feel more powerful in the process.