Caffeineplusmypen - Blueindigo - Tumblr Blog

Not really into rom-coms, but I freaking love this movie!

endless list of my favorite romcom love stories : Maggie Murdock (Anne Hathaway) and Jamie Randall (Jake Gyllenhaal) in Love & Other Drugs

Let's just say in some alternate universe, there's a couple just like us, okay? Only she's healthy and he's perfect. And their world is about how much they're going to spend on vacation or who's in a bad mood that day, or whether they feel guilty about having a cleaning lady. I don't want to be those people. I want us. You. This.

Jake Gyllenhaal for The Hollywood Reporter (2024).

— ⋆ .ೃ 𐦍* 🎞️ ･⋆ 𐦍 .ೃ * : ･🍵

Donnie Darko moodboard !! ꒰ requested by @ anon ! ┆ i wanted to make Donnie moodboard for the longest time tbh, hope you like it! ꒱

We each hit our own unique milestones if and when we want to hit them.

Can we stop using "still lives with their parents" or "unemployed" or "doesn't have a drivers license" or "didn't graduate high school" as an insult or evidence that someone is a bad person? Struggling with independence or meeting milestones is not a moral failing.

Ooohhhh I just remembered Nightcrawler (2014) was released on Halloween.

And now I am thinking about Lou as a vampire...

😢💔

Brokeback Mountain

I'm in love with Rusty, too 😍

Jake Gyllenhaal radiated pure baby angel energy during this escene. He looked so fucking pretty walking like that with his little smirk and his fingers intertwined. The jury felt in love with Rusty, so off course he was going to win his trial.

Oh yeah, definitely his tie...oh the things they did with it...🔥

I just know that this tie was Rusty's, and he gave it to Carolyn for her big day.

This moment between Carolyn and Rusty was so endearing. I mean, the way he was celebrating her triumph, just like a proud boyfriend. I can't believe Tommy didn't realize they were having an affair.

❤️

Jake for British GQ

Jake Gyllenhaal in Enemy

Absolutely sizzling! Love it! I'll be rereading this one! 🔥🔥

karma's kiss 2

a/n: shoutout to @caffeineplusmypen for continuously showing your love despite my lil hiatus. hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. might consider a part 3

Pairing: Anthony Saint Claire x F!Reader

Summary: Anthony finds himself swindled by a con-artist and tracks her down to get his own justice.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark themes like abuse, rough sex, asphyxiation, stealing, dub-con/non-con, smut, read at your own risk.

SHARING IS CARING, REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY IT

Your eyes opened, coming to life once again after losing consciousness for the third time as your throat burned dryly with a thirst like cracked desert sand, aching for damp relief.

Lungs finally filled with air once more, greedily inhaling as much of it as they could.  

You weren't sure what time it was, or how long you'd been stuck in that room, but you knew it'd been hours given the lack of daylight from behind the dingy curtains. 

"Thought I lost you for a minute there," Anthony chuckled darkly, patting your cheek with his fingers, refusing to still his hips as they continued moving slowly and pushing him in and out of your wetness. 

Every stroke of his cock burned your walls, leaving a blazing trail in its midst as his beard did just the same, coarse hairs roughly scraping against your heated skin. Tears pricked at your eyes as you stared at the ceiling, unable to concentrate on anything other than keeping yourself focused on surviving this round.

"I got a little carried away again, didn't I?" he grinned as if he were proud that you could take the brutality of all his carnal desires released from the dark prison he had been forced to hide them in. Like demons finally unleashed from unyielding chains, set loose to devour all the long forsaken pleasures found in sight.

With a croak of your raspy voice and a weak shake of your head, you tried asking for water and a break, unsure if he really couldn't hear your weak plea over the sound of the filthy slap of skin echoing through the room, hammering you into the mattress underneath or if he deliberately chose to ignore it.

If it hadn't been for all the choking he'd inflicted unto you, you would've screamed to get his attention, but the sore muscles of your throat prevented your protest, aching with every breath you were thankful to breathe in. 

His hand on your breast squeezed your tender flesh, leaving darkening marks of his fingertips behind to match the ones he had left around your neck until he removed it to lift your legs. He grunted and forced them apart, splitting you wide open to his delight.

A terrifying gloom fell over his eyes as they stared down at your puffy labias - swollen and painfully sensitive from the brutality he had only shown them - as they engulfed his cock.

Curses, praises and groans poured from him while he took his time, relishing in the way your lips hugged the tip of his cock, deliciously sandwiching his throbbing girth as he slid it up and down, coating it with your juices. 

Your eyes closed tightly as you turned your head, trying to ignore his agonizing taunting in proving just how much your body was unwillingly enjoying being the subject of his darkest fantasies. The filthy sounds of the nectar your body leaked had your stomach turning. 

"You feel that, don't you? I know you like this just as much as I do, baby girl." 

Slipping his domed head back into your scorching wetness, you winced at the sting of his cock stretching your sensitive walls once more.

He arched over you, using one hand to support his weight up for his slow thrusting while the other clawed at the back of your head, fingers tightly balling your hair into his fist.

His breath was hot as it fanned over your eyes. His open-mouthed kisses scraped teeth against you while his tongue lapped at the salty tears rolling from the corners of your eyes. 

Teeth sinking into the crook of your neck, his pants began along with the pistoning of his hips.

Your head throbbed from the grip on your hair, making you see stars. The music of the skin-on-skin contact pulled him into an eerie trance, hypnotizing him to give into all his darkest desires.

The humanity behind his eyes faded with every thrust, ignoring every hiss you winced out from the burn he inflicted carelessly onto you.

You breathed through clenched teeth, condemning yourself for letting him steal yet another wave of pleasure against your will whilst praying for him to release his altogether. 

His hand forced your head to face him to allow his mouth to find yours, stealing the air from your lung with his ravenous kiss. He altered from licking your tongue to biting your fleshy bottom lip.

Whispers of his confessions - how he loved the snug hug of your cunt, how you made him feel so alive and that he'd never forget you - poured down your throat and nestled themselves in a deep nook of your mind, further twisting the internal confliction already plunged into your spirit and infecting it with his corruption and depravity.

He pushed himself back, allowing himself to indulge on the raunchy sight before him.

Every thrust had your breasts bounced to his rhythm. With a hand on your mound, thumbing your overstimulated nub, he used the other slap your tits over and over. Each strike stung and simultaneously aroused you against your will.

You took it with tears in your eyes and hands bound at the wrists by his belt, palms ironically plastered together between your breasts as if you were praying to the heavens to wash away the stain he'd leave on your soul while he coaxed yet another unwilling wave of pleasure to snap in your depths. 

It wasn't until his fingers aligned with the bruises on your neck and squeezed did his relentless pace begin to falter.

His grip tightened until the darkness crept into your sight again, slowly growing from the corners of your vision. Your deafening heartbeat thumped faster and faster within your head and you swore it could explode with any given beat.

You gasped for what little oxygen you could steal as the veins around your eyes swelled. You felt yourself going under again, just until the darkness faded as he released his hand, spilling his thick warm load deep inside your womb for the nth time and finally filling it to the brim. 

Your eyes closed with relief and your body went limp while he relished in his final strokes, letting your sopping cunt milk him of every single drop he had to offer. 

"Pussy is fucking paradise, baby" you heard him whisper through an open mouthed kiss on your cheek while you lie unmoving.

There's not enough dignity in you, at this point, to respond. Even if you wanted to, your throat was burning just as much as your pussy.

You didn't open your eyes, but you felt his warmth radiate when he hovered over you, ear to your nose to check your breathing. Its steadiness made him smirk with content and excitement for the next round.

Making the ignorant assumption you'd passed out once more, he pulled himself off of you and made his way to the bathroom of the rundown motel room. As your eyes slit open, you caught a blurry sight of him cleaning himself up and bending over the bathroom's sink. 

Despite the hazy vision through teary tired eyes, you watched him carefully divide a white substance and shift it around with something thin and small in his hand.

Preparing a line of cocaine for himself with the utmost concentration, your eyes shifted from his frame and fell on the gun, sat on the nightstand so openly like an invitation to your only chance at getting out of the room alive.

Eyes shooting between him and the weapon, you didn't bother to calculate the risk. God knows what he has in store for you. It'd become painfully clear how little he cares for your well-being. If you didn't act now, you might not have another chance.

Luckily, he'd forgotten the fact that your hands had been bound by his belt to your front now so you made quick work of releasing at least one of your wrists from the belt. Using your teeth, you pulled the leather strap from the buckle and wiggled your sore wrist out of it, revealing red flesh sores from where the belt had cut into your skin. 

The small window of chance reinvigorated your exhausted body, reviving the adrenaline in your veins. You rolled yourself over and quickly crawled towards the nightstand, wide eyes fixed on him like a predator stalking its prey, praying he wouldn't notice your movements from the corner of his eyes while he's too busy sniffing a white line from the countertop. 

"Let's see if that ass is as tight as-" he started, rubbing his nose as he faced the open door only to find you stood on your knees on the bed.

Chest heaving with the sudden overdose of adrenaline, you had to force yourself to keep your hands from shaking.

"What do you think you're doing, sweetheart?" he questioned, void of any emotion while he stared at you, assessing what your level of threat was.

The nonchalant tone of his voice made you cringe with rage. It sickened you how, even with a gun to his face, you secretly felt powerless against him.

"Don't you fucking move. I swear to God, I'll shoot."

"C'mon, sweetheart. Don't be like that. You'll hurt yourself with that thing." 

Your thumb flicked, turning the safety off and proving you already knew your way around a firearm. In the back of his mind, he wondered how you knew where to find it and how you came to learn. Finding you full of surprises, his cock throbbed slightly craving you even more than before. 

"Don't test me." 

"Alright," he nodded. 

Deciding to obey, he slowly raised his hands to the level of his head. There was no fear in his eyes. He figured if you wanted him dead, you would've shot him already when you had the chance. A gunshot would be loud enough to alert anyone within the motel. Police would be called and, upon investigation, they would be on you and your money-stealing and identity cloning scheme soon. Pulling the trigger was a greater risk for you than it was for him and he could sense you knew it too, so he played along. After all, he found you once and he could find you again. 

"Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna walk over. You're gonna get my bag. Then, you're gonna sit in the corner on your hands."

"Okay. I can do that." 

As your body adjusted to the adrenaline, his calmness began to slowly dwindle inside when he saw your shaking hands steady and objectivity eclipse in your eyes. It was evident it's not your first time with a gun in your hands and, although he was curious, it didn't provide his assessment enough information to discard danger. He was sure he wasn't your victim, but he couldn't be sure if he'd be the first dead one. 

He calmly stepped out of the bathroom naked and moved slowly, hands still in the air as he bent slowly at the hips to pick up your bag. Your unyielding aim followed him with every step, especially when he took a step towards the bed.

"Step the fuck back!" your ordered, reaffirming with both hands on the gun. "Don't come any fucking closer!"

"Alright!" he obeyed, quickly stepping back, heeding your threat and tossing the bag onto the floor, just before you.

The look in your eyes warned him to not defy you, that you wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. The realization that you would do whatever you had to do to get out finally sunk in. 

"On your fucking hands!"

"I'm going, I'm going!" he nodded quickly and moved to the far corner of the room to sit with his hands under his bare cheeks. 

Once you felt confident enough he couldn't move, you finally moved off the bed inch by inch and swung your foot over. With your aim still on him, you reached one hand down to get your bag and palmed your way inside until you felt the cold metal of your car keys. 

Your heart felt like it could beat right out of your chest with every step you took towards the door. 

To Anthony, every second the gun was on him felt like an eternity as he stared you down, unsure of what you're capable of. Unsure if you'd let him go and flee to your escape or if you'd let the raging thirst for revenge inside overtake you and pull the trigger.

His chest heaved with the heft of uncertainty when you stepped closer to him, heart racing as your clammy hand gripped the black metal firmly with temptation.

The silence hung thickly in the air as you mentally debated against yourself, deciding to let him live or make him pay.  You hadn't really thought about it when you picked the weapon, but holding it to his face, eyes glaring down the barrel and into his blue doe eyes, you were tempted to take the shot as you reflected on the pain he'd inflicted on you for hours throughout the day. 

Whispering voices build in your head. One told you to do it; to just pull the trigger and retrieve your vengeance no matter the cost.

Another reminded you there were parts you did enjoy as much as him and of the vile truth you refuse to accept; the truth that was smeared against your thighs, mixed with the load he'd pumped into you.

Lowering your aim, you both sighed with relief as if it were a signature on a contact mutually agreeing to let you leave. 

"I think you got your money's worth already."

With your bag hooked onto your shoulder, you backed up toward the door and reached for the doorknob.

You opened the door, but before you could take your first step toward freedom, the weight of his bone-chilling words seeped into your skin, forcing every hair on your body to stand sharply on edge. Words that would ring through your mind for months to come. 

"I'll see you soon, sweetheart."

Love them!

Some brokeback mountain drawings, I miss them smmmmm

❤❤

b r o k e b a c k m o u n t a i n, 2005 🎬 dir. ang lee

Lou Bloom and his creepy charisma!

Nightcrawler (2014)

This is wonderful! Thank you for sharing your art❤

BODIES IN THE SAND — ELWOOD DALTON 🎂

summary: it’s your birthday and dalton wanted to make it special.

warnings: eating, mostly fluff & smut (making out, thigh riding). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2730

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

notes: today is my birthday and i am, for the fourth year in a row, making it everyone’s problem with a (very boring) self indulgent fic. 🎈 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

The dock master waved at you when you passed by. You did not leave him enough time to repeat his speech about watching out for the damn crocs like a broken record. You had visited the Glass Key Marina so many times since meeting Dalton, one could think the old man would spare you the lecture. Whatever. This time, you ignored him. You stormed towards the wooden pier on a mission.

Dalton, now confident in Billy and Reef's abilities to handle the unruly patrons on their own (if they remembered to lift with their knees), allowed himself a night off from time to time. The pay as the bouncer of the roadhouse supported him plenty anyway. He did not splurge much, judging by the fishing box overflowing with stacks of cash. When he did spend his money, he would buy all the books Charlie recommended to him or he would treat you to his new favourite food, conch chowder.

You were usually the first person to know about his sporadic vacations, except for today. You drove to the roadhouse and Laura greeted you with a perplexed smile as to why you were there without Dalton. Frankie walked down the stairs from her office and expressed the same level of confusion. "Dalton called, said he's sick. I think the boat dreams are getting to him. Took him long enough." She explained before helping her employees to get the bar ready for another night. Dalton, sick? You stormed out of the bar with the same determination that made you beeline to The Boat.

"There you are." Dalton, who sat on the railing of the boat, stood up and turned around to greet you. The look on your face, painted with surprise, satisfied him, it was worth spending the entire afternoon decorating his corner of the marina. "Happy birthday."

You stood on a creaky wood plank and took in the scene. Orange balloons matched the colours of the sky as the early sunset reflected on the water. There were garlands and streamers, basically anything that could make the dock look festive. You scoffed at the Happy Thanksgiving banner attached to the back of the boat that clashed with the rest.

Dalton quickly justified. "I know... 'Was all Charlie could find." He worked on the ribbon of the balloon he had previously secured on the railing and held on it tight. He raised his leg to get off the boat, but you interrupted.

"I appreciate the thought. This looks so..." You spun on your heels and admired the decorations for a few more seconds. "This looks really nice. But that still won't get me to climb on that thing. It's literally sinking." You pointed at the rusty boat that the dock master constantly referred to as a frying pan. You wholeheartedly agreed with the older man.

"It's not sinking." He leaped from the boat to the dock. The tone of his voice failed to convince you. "... Yet." You both nodded in agreement. Not yet. Soon enough, Dalton would be taking a nap with the crocodile.

You let him come to you.

He tilted his head, eyes squinting at you. "You know, those little footsteps of yours sounded furious. Everything okay?" He clenched his jaw, already bracing up for bad news. It was all he seemed to attract: bad news.

"I should be asking you! Are you okay? I went to the bar and Frankie said you were sick."

"I don't get sick." He shook his head lightly.

"Then why did she tell me that?"

"Oh, I asked her to." He marked a pause, as if that was enough information. You pressed him to grant you with more details. "I thought it was a good excuse." There was a hint of pride in his grin.

"A good excuse that worried me a lot." Your attempt at reprimanding him failed miserably, especially when his grin widened while he stepped closer to you.

Dalton carefully tied the ribbon of the balloon around your right wrist. He then flicked the balloon, watching it bop. "Charlie and I have been planning this for a little while. Couldn't find a proper banner in time." His chin pointed at the Thanksgiving wishes.

"You can say something cheesy to make up for it." You suggested with a chuckle.

"I'm thankful that you're born?" Although he said it like a question, he was certain in the sincerity behind his words.

"That does the job." You both exchanged a moment of laughter. "Thank you for taking the time to decorate for my birthday."

"There's more." He guided you off the dock and through the makeshift path to the beach, always hovering a hand over your lower back to make sure he would be quick to react if you fell.

You let Dalton walk by the shore. Although you did not mind feeling the water run over your feet and ankles, he had insisted enough times that it was safer for you to stay on the other side. So you just let him do what he wanted. Your hand brushed over his a few times and you caught sight of the smirk on his lips.

He also noticed your head was turned towards the water so he pulled you to stand in front of him. He lost no time to hold your hand when you reached behind to grab his. Dalton mouthed a quiet wow when he took in just how beautiful you looked with the pink sunset sky.

Things were simple with Dalton. He did not talk much about what lead him to Glass Key, but you learned enough snippets of his life to know he wanted things to remain this way: simple. He liked the way you weaved yourself through the routine he built since working at the roadhouse. You'd visit before work, at work, after... You would hang out at the bookstore with Charlie, you would sit by the bar with Laura. It all felt simple. He did not hide his appreciation for the time you shared. He showed honesty in his intentions with you when a kiss turned into a lot more one too many times. Plenty of whispered praises, plenty of love filled gazes. You took it one day at a time with Dalton. And today was a special day in more ways than one.

Dalton bumped against you when you stopped walking abruptly at the sight of the makeshift picnic set up. Beach towels laid on the sand and held in place by a bunch of rocks and a pretty conch shell. It looked a little funky but he knew you could not care less. "After my first shift at the bar, Frankie told me this whole sales pitch about the place." He let go of your hand so you could wander towards the beach towels. "She said this was a beautiful spot to have a drink with someone special." Frankie was talking about the roadhouse, not the beach at the back of the marina but... It was close enough.

"She must be right." You sat down on the towel, Dalton joined you. He attempted to say something else, but the balloon floating in the evening breeze distracted him. You watched him intently as he untied the ribbon from your wrist and attached it to the handle of the cooler.

You exchanged a smile and enjoyed more of the sunset. You wondered to yourself how people could live in a beautiful place such as this and forget to pay attention. How could someone get used to a view like this? You certainly could never. You knew Dalton felt the same.

And Dalton knew what you were thinking about. He had travelled quite a bit, both for work and to escape it. He faced the same reflection time after time. "I don't know." He broke the silence, answering your unspoken question. "Maybe they don't have the right person by their side to remind them to appreciate the moment."

"I like the sound of that." You shifted closer to him and his hand slid along your lower back to find its place on your hip. "It's romantic."

"Wait 'til you hear about what I baked for your birthday..." He let out a small grunt when he stretched his arm towards the cooler to pull it closer.

"You can bake?"

"Nope." He opened the cooler and tilted in your direction. "But Charlie can." Kind of. He let you take a peak inside to admire the cupcakes that he prepared with the teenager and with Stephen on supervision duty.

You found it so endearing how he formed a bond with Charlie. Dalton even grew to like her comparisons to western novels and cowboy boots wearing broody heroes. You leaned in to admire the desserts and chuckled at the sight. "They're all squished."

"Shit." Dalton whispered at the sight of the dozen of misshapen cupcakes. He pulled out the tray and set it on the beach towel. He selected one that sort of held its shape during the transport from Charlie and Stephen's house to the beach. "I swear, I frosted them all nice for you." He grinned apologetically.

You grabbed the cupcake from his hand and took a bite. You swallowed thickly and tried to contain a funny face. "These are..."

"Burnt as hell." He stole a bite from the same cupcake and grimaced. He looked down at the rest of the desserts and began to explain that he was sorry, that he really tried to make your birthday special.

You interrupted him with a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "There was frosting." It was not entirely false, but you hoped this would stop the train of thoughts.

He still looked unsure, he worried that he had messed up.

So you kissed him again, on the same spot. You would usually let him lead and make the the first move so he would not feel trapped, but you wanted to reassure him. "Spending time with you is a nice gift on its own. So this?" You gestured around you. "This is great. And this." You held his head in your hands for a few moments, waiting for his lips to curl into a smile. "It's all I need to have a good time."

The smile stayed glued on his face even when you pulled away. You reached for the cupcake again and Dalton took it from your hand to put it back on the tray, slamming the cooler shut for good.

"You can't waste the cupcakes, you worked so hard to bake them for me." You would have eaten a couple of the sweets had he not stopped you, you wanted Dalton to know you liked the gesture.

"Then the crocodile can have them." You nodded, agreeing with his idea.

"Maybe he'll spare you for another night."

The sound of yours and Dalton's laughter blended together as one. "That's exactly what I was thinking." He replied.

"I know I just said I'm having a good time, but..." You crawled to kneel between his legs. You sat back, keeping a safe distance to let Dalton decide. "We can make it even better."

He considered the implications of your offer. Now, he felt like he was the one being celebrated. You were a real treat, kneeling before him with a gaze he had seen many times before. You wanted more... You wanted him. Dalton leaned in, glancing between your eyes and your lips.

You let him come closer until your mouths met in a gentle kiss, mirroring what you did moments ago.

His nose brushed against yours while he left you longing for another kiss. The small nod of his head told you everything you needed to know.

You erased the distance completely and kissed him again with your head tilted to the side.

Dalton's fingertips caressed along your arms and guided you to wrap them around his neck. He deepened the kiss when he felt one of your hands cradling the back of his head.

You hummed when his hands began to explore your body. The gentle touching up and down your back grew in eagerness.

Dalton's hands gripped firmly on your hips, pulling you closer. He placed a hand under your thigh and positioned you how he wanted. He took it slow, one step at a time. His hand travelled back up to the curve of your ass that he squeezed a little bit harsher than you expected.

The whimper you let out only encouraged him to keep going while his feverish touches fuelled you to take this further. Your tongue traced his lips before he parted his mouth open.

Your tongues danced together while he let go of you briefly to unbutton his shirt. Immediately after, your hands were all over him. Your fingertips followed the shape of his collarbone down to the curve of his pecs to end on the valley between his abs. You printed each and every detail of Dalton in your mind.

Your loving touch spread goosebumps on his skin, or perhaps it was the breeze getting cooler. The sunset reached its last instants, the sun appeared to be swallowed by the ocean far beyond the horizon. The marina was peaceful, but not quiet. Soft whimpers and grunts filled the silence as the waves slowly hit the sand.

You paused to catch your breath, Dalton could not take his eyes off your kiss swollen lips. "Wanna make you feel good." He whispered against your lips before leaning in again to let his tongue invade your mouth. His hands rested on your hips, squeezing the flesh and making your body move back and forth.

You ached from the lack of direct contact with him, you needed to feel him. But, again, you wanted to respect how far he seemed willing to go.

So he put his words into actions. Dalton made you straddle his thigh, trying to adjust the best he could to make sure you were comfortable. With his hands on your ass again, he began to make you grind on him. At first the movements were tentative, he let you adjust to the friction between your core and the clothes. But when you moaned at his ear, he could no longer hold back.

You rocked your hips back and forth, succumbing to the ever-growing hunger for more. More of this heated intimacy, more of Dalton's warm skin on yours... More.

Every time a door opened, Dalton closed it by repeating that you were a nice person, that you did not want to know him in that way, that you did not want to get close to him.

Yet, you waited. You showed him you had all the patience in the world for him. You showed that you were not out to get him, that you simply wanted to make Dalton feel good too.

You succeeded. The more you waited and reassured him that you would respect his boundaries, the more Dalton wanted to explore what lied beyond those limits.

"I don't want to stop." You murmured at his ear, trailing kisses from his ear and along his jaw until your lips connected again.

"I don't wanna stop either." His grip tightened on your hips, forcing you to slow down. "But since you refuse to get on the boat with me..."

You remained categorical, he would never convince you to step foot in that death trap. "We can go back to my place."

"Oh yeah?" Dalton kept you immobile, pressed down on his thigh. Your whine of complaint sounded like music to his ears. "You think you can wait that long?" It was quite the drive between the beach and your home. If either of you had the genuine intention to leave, you would have done in a while ago. "I'm not too sure about that."

You scoffed at his assumption. "Can you wait?"

Dalton answered your question by capturing your lips with his in a rough kiss. He slowly, carefully, helped you to lay on your back. He guided your legs apart to make space, his gaze meeting yours while his hands caressed your thighs. He let the tension build, he needed you to give him one more sign that you wanted this just as much as he did. When your hips bucked forward, your body pressing more against his, he grinned. "I've waited long enough."

JAKE GYLLENHAAL and LUKAS GAGE Road House (2024) by Doug Liman

Same!

Breaking my silence: I genuinely thought Rusty and Barbara were going to have hot, angry sex right here because there was a moment during this fight that she looked at Rusty's lips, and I thought, Are they about to fuck? I mean, that would have been so fucking hot.

Nocturnal Animals (2016)

Mhmm.

And I love the swimming scenes, too!

Among my favorite scenes from Presumed Innocent are the ones where Rusty used the treadmill that the showrunners have in it to justify Jake Gyllenhaal's body, and this one in particular with this grey t-shirt in which his arms look huge, just really hot.

He was 21 yrs old in this movie. Still haven't seen it. There are only a few films of his that I have yet to see...

HIGHWAY (2002)

Some moments of levity between Rusty and his kids; he is just the cutest dad.

🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

This scene where he complimented Barbara melted my heart; he was so endearing. I love Rusty so much.