please? - jaime reyes x reader (nsfw warning)
Jaime pants, one brow furrowed, sweat dripping down his hair as he cages you in, lips pressed to yours feverishly, whimpering. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he fucks you, sound of the bed creaking as he does. He's sure Khaji Da's mentioning his dopamine and endorphins levels are off the charts alongside his quickened heartbeat, but you're just so irresistible when you're whimpering his name like that. Besides, it's a great stress reliever and post-fight reward. Ugh. He pauses slightly, pushing his hair back as you exhale shakily.
"What? Tired already, mi amor?" You hum, lips quirked upward, expression changing as he thrusts into you again.
"You're really chatty, mi vida." Jaime mumbles. "Maybe if you didn't look so good, I wouldn't stop to admire your beauty so often."
Jaime looks down as you clench on him from the compliment.
"You're such a womanizer, mi amor." You mumble.
"Only you get to hear things like this." He hums, thumb finding your clit as he starts again, slower this time, holding you down as he forces you to feel every inch of you, eyes enamored as he watches himself disappear into you slowly, holding you down so you can't squirm.
"Jaime." You gasp. "Please."
"Please what, mi vida? You know you have to say it." He smiles cheekily.
"Harder? Please?" You try, voice coming out weak.
"Of course." He presses a kiss to the corner of your eye. "All you had to do is ask."
and Jaime loves gently, a reminder that he was affectionate with you no matter the situation, skin pressed to yours, lips pressed to yours, fingers laced with yours— he was yours from the inside out.
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general themes and ideas for my portrayal of katsuk.i:
a broken prototype: "then turn selfishness into a weapon. make things yours, make other lives and dreams hopes yours." / "it feels like i'm sad for an infinite number of my selves." / "it has to be perfect. to make up for it, to make for the fact that it's me."
butterflies: re: metamorphosis, "you listen and you know you could live a better life than you do, be softer, kinder. and maybe this year you will be able to do it." / "i act and react, and suddenly i wonder 'where is the boy that i was last year?'... what would he think of me now?" / "mostly, i want to be kind."
fear of insignificance: "i want to try and be terrific, even for an hour, i feel like a time traveller: summer dissolves in my mouth and i can’t remember what it tasted like" / "it terrifies you. that you missed out on something."
without body and mind: "could i just ... let my molecules separate while you keep an eye on the burner? the flame's fickle. here's hoping it doesn't go out." / "i feared a wound not of the body but the soul, an irreconcilable division between myself and the rest of humankind."
guilt as an open wound: "i want to tell you this story without having to confess anything, i want to tell you this story without having to be in it." / "the enormity of my desire disgusts me." / "the strength of my desire, the speed with which it flowers, shocks me; i flinch and startle."
anger as someone else: "i began to realise that although the violence was over, i still carried it with me." / "let the current carry the body away. let it sink. let yourself grieve and learn from this: learn to love." / "violence does not always take physical forms."
and anger as all you are: "aside from luck, what has driven your career? rage. i'm fucking angry, man. about everything." / "i know if i had not discovered art, i would have become a criminal." / "he plays very badly, but it stops him from destroying things."
sometimes people can understand you better than yourself: "to be a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse: both shelter and warning." / "i was taught to desire nothing, to swallow other people's misery, and to eat my own bitterness."
a study in shame: "mother please believe me, ... i'm ashamed of the things i've been put through, i'm ashamed of the person i am." / "another morning and i wake with the thirst for the goodness i do not have." / "the horror of myself, and the meanness of myself.” / "isn't all that rage so ugly? and isn't it mine, still? good god, isn't it mine?"
you don't look to the past but drown through it: "when you leave your home and wander really far, you always think, ‘i want to go home.’ but then you come home, and of course it’s not the same." / "time passes, memory fades, adujusts, conforms to what we think we remember." / "it eats and tears away at me."
mother and son and the complexities that brings: "mother, i have pasts inside me i did not bury properly." / "i am a reflection of my mother's secret poetry as well as her hidden angers." / "i am my mother's child, and it terrifies me."
the ghost of who you were: "you are twenty-one and you know there are too many things out here. you're so afraid of becoming a ghost, but you are more afrai of what will happen if you don't." / "yes, i believe in ghosts, but we create them. we haunt ourselves."
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I disappeared for a hot minute (six months) i have summer camp for most of august but ill be actually back in late august/september
maybe
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