#the potential for this kind of thing is amazing

[golden-redhead]

Okay, but I actually adore the romantic arc in KPop Demon Hunters. There's so little time to tell this story and to focus on all its nuances, but the way the movie gets us there is absolutely amazing and doesn't feel cheap at all. And I think part of the reason why is the fact that Rumi and Jinu never really develop past what technically counts as just a crush.

It doesn't try to convince us that what they shared was something unbeliavably deep or like some kind of soulmate bond. It doesn't act like they were perfect for each other and how their love could make it through everything. It works precisely because it shows the tragedy of how little time they had together and how they never got to explore that on their own terms.

And we can all relate to that feeling of loss of something that could have been more. All of the elements of a great romance are technically there but all these other outside elements are working against them and all we get to see at the end of the day is the unexplored potential.

Rumi and Jinu connected on a very human level, that's true, but the tragedy of their relationship is that it couldn't really become more and what we end up mourning is the potential they had, the fact that they could have been so much more if given a chance.

So often stories try to convince us of these stronger-than-anything romantic arcs, but since a lot of the time romance is the B-plot at best and there's no time to develop it properly, we end up with the characters basically skipping all the stages from attraction and straight to pure and unadulterated love.

KPop Demon Hunters doesn't do that.

Instead, it focuses on the connection that was broken too fast and that's precisely why it resonates with us. It doesn't try to pretend that their romance is something that it isn't and that fact, more than anything else, makes it feel authentic.

I feel like a different ending would have cheapened the story somehow. We got a happy ending, yes, but it doesn't make it all good. It doesn't erase all the pain that we had to go through to get there.

And at the end of the day, it's not some grand love story.

No.

Instead, it's two broken people who connect, who feel attraction and who never get to explore what it means. The romance itself isn't some kind of be-all and end-all kind of thing.

It still matters, though.

Why? Well... because they still got to meet each other. They still got to heal, in their own ways. And that matters, too. Even if it wasn't meant to be the way we wish it was. Sometimes, that's just how it is.

[sugawhaaa]

Han Jisung Drabble

•.•.•Morning after•.•.•

Warnings:: SMUT

Pairing:: jisung x fem!reader

Genre:: morning after, fluff, mentions rough sex,

A/N:: I'm back from the grave...✨️ anyway this is a bit of a teaser thing for a fanfic I'm writing for Han, this is kind of like part 2 of the fantic I haven't even posted yet 😭

Skz masterlist:: 🧡

When you first came to everything felt kinda fuzzy. You and Han had been dating for a while now and you'd slept in his bed many times so waking up beside him wasn't anything new. However, waking up next to him, naked, covered in hickeys and bruises was new.

Han was still balled up in blankets, sleeping away. He had a few marks on his neck as well. His cheeks were puffed out as he slept, his breathing heavier than average. Something about the way he looked right now was so endearing. However when you sat up all that endearment seemed to dwindled.

It seemed as though every bone and muscle in your body ached from his behavior last night. Jisung got a little jealous and possessive of you and when you showed that you were into it, he went to town. Your jaw ached and the corners of your mouth were undoubtedly red fron friction, your hips and upper thighs were stiff and potentially bruised. Your head throbbed, probably because you were dehydrated and perhaps because Han was pulling on your hair half the night.

You manage to drag yourself out of bed and put on some clothes, baggy mismatched clothes, half of which belonged to Jisung. As you head to the door you glance back and Han, noticing the redness of his back. Upon closer inspection, you realized it was scratch marks, scratches from your nails... seems like the both of you have lots of marks to prove your fun last night.

After leaving his room you're greeted by a few of the members sitting at the dinner table eating what they call breakfast. At first, none of them seem to notice anything odd about you until you sit down. Dark circles under your eyes, frizzy hair, and marks all over your neck and upper chest. Lee know smirks to himself before taking a sip of coffee.

"Have a long night?" Felix tilts his head, trying to be a good sport about this but deep down he finds it humorous.

"That's one way to put it," you groan before resting your head on the table, arms supporting your head. With your head down you suddenly feel a hand slide up to your head and fluff your hair. When you pick your head up you see Jisung, a tired smile on his lips. He wears a grey hoodie and black sweatpants, a typical Jisung morning outfit. He leans down to talk to you on a quieter level.

"How you feeling this morning? Was it too much?" A guilty smile spreads across his face and it's somehow endearing.

"A little stiff...very stiff," you rub your hip bone and Han blushes before giving you a hug. The members ignore the two of you having your little moment and leave you be.

"I'm sorry," he chuckles but his words are sincere. You put a hand over his.

"It's okay, it was amazing," you peck his cheek. Changbin then claps his hands together.

"Okay let's get today rolling," he smiles awkwardly before drawing everyone's attention. Jisung steals one last glance at you before giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead.

[randomrandy]

Been reading a bunch of humans are space orcs related things and it’s reminded me how much I love the concept.

The base concept, humans are actually really scary/unique to aliens, already has so much world-building built into it ‘cause now you have to figure out what kind of intergalactic society would find humans strange/dangerous. How you go about it all really depends on what aspects of humanity you want to explore, that’s really the heart of the concept. It’s a fun way to write an outsider pov on humanity and very explicitly explore some interesting themes while also getting to fuck around with space sci-fi stuff!

Idk, I’m having writing thoughts and may have binge read too much stuff. I just like aliens and contemplations on humanity okay?

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

The thing that sucks about knowing the context for a popular ship redraw meme or incorrect quote is watching people be so so incorrect about it and just having to sit there, gripping your thigh, reminding yourself of your values

My personal problem is the quote from "Everything Everywhere All At Once": "In another life I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you"

Because every day EVERY DAY even with ships I love, I watch people use it as a "Oh my god isn't it so tragic that these two characters are forced to suffer the horrors or to be ripped apart when in their heart of hearts they want to be living domestically and doing laundry and taxes?"

And I have to sit there and think "No no you don't get it! That line wasn't the tragedy of the characters not having a better life where they can just be together. It's a different kind of tragedy! The main character didn't like her normal Chinese immigrant life of running a laundromat and dealing with taxes and her family in the USA. Once she learned about all of these different worlds, she began to feel even more like her current life was one that she didn't want. In fact, this life where the guy said that popular line was one where she chose not to go to the USA with him to build a life and love together and became a famous actress instead. She has been thinking about how her husband truly held her down and stifled her life. How if she hadn’t chosen him she wouldn't have had to deal with him and her life would be better and more exciting. And so she's talking to this alternate version of her husband who never became her husband, and she starts making a case for why this is the best outcome. After all, who would want to live in a laundromat and do taxes when she can be a movie star and have anyone she wants? And this is when he tells her that that life that she rejects, that she feels is lowly and one that no one would want, is something that he wants. He doesn't care that she's a famous actress now, he would have loved to just live a simple life with her, even if it was hard and taxing. And this moment in the movie is so so many things (things I'm not even doing justice to here), but it is also a major moment that highlights the disparity in these two characters (even if one isn't her og husband) and their desires.

The main character feels trapped in her life and that she never lived up to her potential. Her husband truly would want to be with her simply because of the bits where it isn't exciting. Even if they're poor and suffer hardship and do things considered simple and lowly, he would still like that life with her.

So yes every time I see this meme my brain screams "get out of here with your blorbos in an au who tragically can't live normally and domestically. Bring in your blorbos who love(d) each other and are messy and are on the verge of divorce and want different things in life, who have to make a choice in what to do about it. Give me your "person who feels trapped in this small life and wanted bigger and better things who lowkey resents the other who is just supporting them" x "person who understands this life isn't always easy or glamorous but is glad that they get to do it every day with this person, who would choose a life of love with them no matter what"

[starry-kattz]

Is it weird that I'm seeing character parallels between Sayaka Miki (Madoka Magica) and Ragatha (Digital Circus)?

[chickpea0]

Hey there!

I saw your post about looking for a fursona species and I thought I’d give you some ideas! No pressure to choose any of these, I’m just a big animal enthusiast and I picked most of these at random. I tried to choose animals that are not too common to see in fursonas and animals that aren’t just mammals just in case you’re looking for something different/want variety! Anyways here’s a little list for you and I hope it helps!

Pangolin

Sun Bear

African Wild Dog

Binturong

Saola

Patagonian Mara

Coati

Fossa

Pink River Dolphin

Pink Fairy Armidillo

Dumbo octopus

Echidna

I have more suggestions if you want them, but I didn’t want to make the list too long. If none of these are what you are looking for, I’ll definitely share some more ideas if you want!

Eek! I'm an animal enthusiast too! And actually a lot of these animals are ones I've considered before!! I love love pangolins and sun bears and binturongs (and that they smell like popcorn) and in fact the only animal you listed that I haven't considered is the Saola!!! I had to google them but I recognise them. Very cool colouring. Thank you very much :>

[longagoitwastuesday]

While I loved that interaction, that is all we got about something that could be taken as two of the most important (alive) people in Gojo's life mentioning him, thinking of him with fondness, or coming anywhere close to mourning him.

Then we got two pages of resolution of whatever emotional turmoil these two have going on

[rathenrys]

Me explaining how mafia 2 mobile is canon for the main series because Henry should’ve been with Falcone so that checks, also it is a nice lead up if we have Carlo trying to take down Vinci, plus there isn’t a mention about Clemente which would only show how insignificant at the start of all of this he was.

[fragmentedblade]

.

[demarogue]

Gettin' Through the Holidays Mental Health Tricks

If y'all are anything like me, this time of year is triggering AF. Here are some small, very easy grounding exercises that I was taught by my therapist, basically in order of how much I like them for this rage-inducing season. You make like them in a different order, depending on your rage-to-despair ratio.

Push a wall: literally go up to a wall and try to push it over. Really try. I promise you won't push it over, but give it your best shot. Try to hold it as long as you can, and then take a breather and assess whether you need to repeat. Why it works: This is a quick, physical expulsion of the fight-or-flight feeling. It's a bit like punching a wall, but without the potential to hurt yourself/look scary/damage things. You can even do it in front of people and say you're stretching, they'll never know (unless the wall actually falls down, but this will not happen, I assure you).

Shake like a dog: Animals shake to release stress, and you are also an animal. Setting aside time to just shake it out, as vigorously as you can, arms and legs, face, stick your tongue out, pretend you're shaking like a wet dog. You can dance instead, if that feels better, and you can do this to music, but basically the more unhinged you can be, the better. If you are in a place you can scream, scream too! Why it works: like the above, this is a release of pent-up stress and anxiety. Especially if your rage-to-woe ratio is high, some kind of physical exertion is often the best way to burn through the cortisol and adrenaline you're building up.

Bilateral Tapping: Cross your arms over your chest so that your fingertips are at your shoulders, and slowly tap, one hand at a time, back and forth, for about a minute. Breathe slowly. Why it works: This is weird as hell, but because this engages both sides of your brain, it helps override the activity of the amygdala, which is the part of your brain that Makes The Fear. If you're being literally triggered in a situation, i.e. you're having a trauma response, or reliving some family trauma, this is a good one.

Box Breathing: From a comfortable position (can really be seated, laying down or standing), inhale slowly for a count of 4, hold for a count of 4, exhale for a count of 4, hold for a count of 4, then repeat. You can do it for shorter counts or longer counts, but if you vary the counts make sure the exhale is longer than the inhale. You can close your eyes or leave them open. Why it works: This exercise helps you move from a sympathetic (activated) nervous system response to a parasympathetic (balanced) response. I do this one every day, and it's a good gateway to meditation. Especially helpful in anxious or tense situations, but I find if I'm very triggered I need one of the other ones first, or it can make anxiety worse. Breathwork is amazing but not usually as a first exercise if you're very activated, or have been activated a long time.

Ice: Lots of ways to do this one – hands in cold water for 30 seconds, ice pack on the back of your neck, dip your entire face into a bowl of ice water (this one's the most effective). Why it works: I kinda think this is hilarious, but this activates your mammalian dive reflex. It immediately slows your heart-rate, so if you are feeling your blood pressure and heart rate rising, this one is very good. The only reason this one's at the bottom of my list is because I hate being cold.

I wish you all a very get-through-the-holidays-without-hurting-yourself. Take time alone if you need it.

[glassrunner]

Tbh I am pretty sure vi had no idea jinx was suicidal from the way she says "I really thought she would help" and after when they see eachother again in battle she says something like "maybe you shouldn't have returned", vi just thinks she left, she doesn't want to help so she is gone and that's it. And jinx locks her up, so she also probably felt a bit betrayed as well as guilty for always choosing wrong etc.... she beats herself up the whole time she's locked in there and then cait shows up telling he she was ready to let both vi and jinx go so vi is like fuck it.... also about her not having her own character, i think she just lives for others and that is her flaw in a way, she needs to have someone to hold on to or else she spirals... I don't think it was all just because of cait but, unfortunately that part wasn't explored more in s2. Sorry about this, just sharing my opinion i really don't want this to seem like I'm arguing lol it's good to see you back though!

I’m sure my own experiences, as someone who has said pretty much everything Jinx said in that scene, are absolutely coloring the way I’m interpreting Vi’s actions here. But I find it extremely difficult to believe that she wouldn’t have known even on a subconscious level.

Even after Jinx lost Silco, she still had enough energy, enough grief and fire to literally take aim at Piltover, whereas in the jail cell she’s genuinely undone, from her unbraided and unkempt hair to her completely empty and broken affect. And when she says “you don’t have to worry about me anymore” and “there is no good version of me,” I just find it ridiculously hard to believe that Vi, having so much unending compassion for her sister and knowing firsthand how mentally ill she is, wouldn’t pick up on her intent to end her own life. Vi even says “What are you going to do?” and there’s legitimate panic there, there’s so much palpable fear at the pain of loss that she could experience again.

I do agree on the assessment that Vi’s fatal flaw is her loyalty to others and her belief in their goodness. I think that’s something honestly extremely endearing about her even though it hurts her so much. Honestly, I can’t decide if it’s a writing flaw or a testament to her conviction in others’ virtues that she never drops that mindset, outside of episode 3 of season 2.

But the Caitvi scene gives me that same feeling of in-betweenness, and not being able to definitively say if it was shoehorned in just for the purpose of making it real or if it’s legitimate deflection from Vi’s very real pain is what frustrates me the most. I can’t tell myself it’s both, because nothing in that scene tells me that Vi’s desperate to distract herself from Jinx’s suffering, and that lack of subtext is what made it feel so jarring and almost disrespectful for me.

[non-operator]

okay... let me start off with "I'm sorry" because I lied and I'm bored, gave H*llavu B*ss a go because my feed is full of it and HH now and I have no impulse control and I also can't leave things unfinished. And HB is free on youtube; I can technically pirate hh but I don't want to be in that much effort for that...

And like, I think it's the same as I feel about that one song from HH. It's not that great, though I guess I can see why people like it? But in a "I don't think you people ever moved past deviant art era plot and art". Which, to be nice, isn't bad by itself but objectively speaking, there is better media and stories out there. All in all, I'm giving it a 2.5/10; I think the best way to summarize HB is that it's a show made for people who were already in love with it before watching it, not a show that tries to win over its audience.

Plot

It is episodic, so I will admit that plot isn't that big of a factor in the series. But I will say that it loses sight of its premise pretty fast. Like, it's advertised and set up as a "wacky hijinks in a found family assassination business", but after the first few episodes or so, it stops showing them doing work/killing people and how they go about that, and focuses more on what happens around or outside of work. For example, ep 6 and 7 just doesn't even show them working and skips straight to the aftermath and what they're going to do after work. The Spring Break episode does show them working, but it glosses over it; IMP is more like a plot device than a premise. Ep 2 straight up has them doing other stuff (aka bodyguarding, something that is explicitly said to be not a service IMP offers). Fuck it, even the Harvest Moon Festival ep is not work-related. For a show that is supposedly centered on IMP and the main cast killing humans on behalf of sinners with a grudge, it doesn't actually interact or play with that concept. And I think it basically drops completely out of focus in Season 2.

And like, I can understand if the show wants to make it more about character dynamics than the business, but the pilot (and ep 1 kind of) promises to explore that *through* IMP work. And that leads into the next big problem with HB

Character

I feel like everyone except Blitzo is underdeveloped, especially the women in the show. We get a lot of insight into Blitzo's motivations and emotional baggage and how he copes with that in unhealthy and asshole-y ways. But literally everyone else is kind of thrown under the bus unless it's relevant to Blitzo. The only character that kind of escapes this treatment (but not wholly) is Moxxie.

But Millie is only defined by how she's Moxxie's wife, and basically nothing else. Loona-- does have some more characterization than Millie, but her biggest-- and basically only-- role in the show is being Blitzo's difficult adopted daughter; her character arc about idk getting more in-touch with her feelings and being more expressive is centered around how she feels about Blitzo. And then the side characters: Octavia and Stella. Octavia is also about being a daughter to her father, and that's kind of it! Even though she's struggling with her parents' (incoming) divorce, she's only shown to be interacting/having an emotional connection with Stolas; Stella is never in the picture. Stella is-- just a major bitch, and that's it. That's all she has to her character.

But Octavia and Stella are side characters, so I can accept them having pretty flat personalities, but Millie and Loona? Those two are part of the main fucking cast. How are they being sidelined this hard??

I think a lot of the show revolves around Blitzo, so if the characters don't matter to him or don't bounce off well with him, they kind of get shafted by the writing. Like Millie. She is just generally so easygoing with Blitzo's antics that there's nothing for Blitzo to really react to there, so she's just essentially a background character.

Speaking of, almost all the characters and relationships are kind of built to parallel Blitzo and Stolitz (we'll get to this ship in a minute). Like, Moxxie is supposed to be a nice foil to Blitzo because they're both afraid of rejection, but they deal with that in opposite ways; Moxxie is polite, professional, no backbone because he doesn't want confrontation lest it lead to rejection whereas Blitzo is crass and a dick about everything so he can push people away before they reject/hurt him. And they both want to be loved, but Moxxie has a healthy relationship with Millie whereas Blitzo has no such thing in his life, so another contrast. And also daddy issues.

This is okay on its own. It makes a compelling dynamic between Blitzo as a boss and friend to Moxxie.

But then they do this for almost every character?? Loona (basically) has daddy issues and can't express herself that well because she's under-socialized and Trauma, Octavia is a daddy's girl and is too emo to communicate her feelings, Stolas has daddy issues and also communication issues, Fizzarolli has daddy issues (when he doesn't need to???)

And then there's the fact that it feels like the other relationships we see are supposed to work as parallels/foils to Stolitz as well? Moxxie and Millie and happy and healthy and committed, unlike Stolitz. Fizz and Asmodeus manage to work around that class disparity/power imbalance because they can communicate with each other, unlike Stoliz. They kind of just function as a "this is what Stolitz could be if they got over themselves and talked"

And generational trauma and the desire to be loved can be a major and shared theme, but there should at least be nuance between each representation of it?? These are literally all the same in that it boils down to "I don't know how to ask for proper intimacy".

Ships

There's only one main ship and it's Stolitz, and... I find it compelling?? But it's just not executed well enough. They just rush through the development, so when the show actually reveals that there's mutual attraction, it just feels like it comes out of nowhere and the audience has to do a lot of the legwork to figure out what the fuck happened from point a to point b.

It's also like, it steals a lot of attention from other aspects of the show. I feel like a lot of Season 2 episodes kind of focuses more on that relationship in favor of other characters who need screen time and development (like Millie)

I could give a really long analysis on Stolitz, but I'm just going to say that the problem kind of just boils down to the show doesn't sell that they actually feel genuine affection for each other. I can see them projecting their own emotional baggage onto the other and using each other, but there's no transition from the transactional relationship they have in the beginning to liking each other as people. In fact, I don't think they even know each other outside of sex and work. Which is bad. Because I can buy them fucking up communicating their wants and thus settling for fucking each other for "professional" reasons, but if the show really wants to sell this ship, there has to be something genuine between them that draws them to each other.

Which is to say, Stolitz is a ship for people who already love and want the ship, not for people who are just There. As in, the show seems to make the assumption that the audience wants this ship to happen and that the ship will happen, so they don't really take the time to establish a solid foundation and growth arc for it. It just feels like big emotional or romantic moments without the actual necessary context to make it work. Which is just a problem for the general show.

Pacing

It's bad. It's so bad. I can understand leaving arcs unresolved for a bit so that there's suspense or whatever, but they keep adding more arcs and problems while leaving unfinished plotlines unfinished. Only to then resolve it super quickly. Like ??????? It's all so cramped and rushed-- but then they sometimes slow it down in the worst way possible in that it just kind of ignores previous developments for a one-off episode or something (like S2 Ep 2 where they just ignore the Stolitz drama for wacky adventure in the human world and Stolas and Blitzo are just acting like nothing wrong happened). (And I Know! I know they showed details in the background that explain that this happens because both of them are ignoring the problem, but even so, they shouldn't be acting so casual with each other; it should be made more clear that they're both still uncomfortable but *acting*) (and something that changes the relationship should be shown to the audience clearly? Not just put in as "blink and you'll miss it" text messages??)

And sometimes this rushed pacing leads to info-dumps or telling, not showing. Like with Stolas' focus episode where we learn his backstory. It's not super bad, but it weakens the impact of big plot moments; we just hear Stolas saying he endured his loveless marriage for his daughter, but we. never really see that...? The times he's with her when she's a child doesn't count because Stella's not a picture in that. The one time we kind of see something related to this statement is when Stella's kind of being loud in the kitchen and he checks in on her sleeping peacefully, but like. That's not really and example of him enduring Stella's temper and insults for Octavia's sake. He hasn't even seen Stella at all before he drops by Octavia's room. The next time is when Stella is throwing an imp at him in the kitchen and Stolas is trying to be... nice? reasonable? But at this point, I think it's clear to Octavia that her parents don't love each other. And even then, we never really see him paying attention to her or expressing concern about what Octavia might think or feel during the fight, or trying to reassure her that this is just a normal spat between married couples afterwards as damage control. We can just take his word for it, but it's just not as powerful. I'd say the same goes for when we learn about Moxxie and his father/traumatic childhood. Would've been great to see how he struggles with that specifically or had more clues to that before we see him completely resolve to stand up to his father.

It just feels like the show itself expects the audience to be completely in love with it, so it doesn't really bother to develop its world or characters until Big Emotional Moments and at that point, it just gives the necessary context to pull it off real fast, so everything just feels so... compact and dense and not very natural. It's not trying to sell itself to a new audience, it's catering to an audience that's been supporting them since the pilot.

[earhartsease]

we still get immediately shoved out of our immersion in tv shows or films when The Girl find a dead body and immediately shrieks - we just don't find it realistic because we're pretty confident most people would gasp rather than shriek (i.e. sharp inhale rather than sharp exhale) and it also feels unnecessarily (and predictably) misogynistic too, as men encountering corpses almost never do the same on screen

also of course please do tell us if you've actually encountered a corpse unexpectedly, because tumblr is absolutely a place where some people have done this thing and we love a good anecdote

suddenly imagining "burst into song" as a potential response

edit: since lots of people are still responding to this (we were amazed at the huge response over a just 24 hour poll), we want to make it clearer that we were never saying "of course nobody shrieks", we were railing against how on screen, women always do in an over dramatic way, and when men do it's made fun of like they've emasculated themselves by shrieking (so it's clearly a deliberate misogynistic trope)

meanwhile of course some people do shriek, as clearly demonstrated not just by the nearly 11% in the poll, but by all the tags we got inundated with - the main responses seem to be: gasp, swear loudly, vomit, grunt or make some other kind of other inarticulate noise, and shriek

anyway, thanks for playing

[prlssprfctn]

Batfamily get tired of Bruce and Jason's insanity and as true hypocrites buy them monthly sessions to the therapist that they cannot ignore, like, at all. That ensues some troubles.

Jason: *sprawled on the couch in the Batcave* Bruce: *brooding around* Jason: What's up with you? Bruce: I am dreading over the upcoming therapy session. Jason: Oh, lmao, they forced you, too? Bruce, irritated: That's a ridiculous waste of time. I don't even need it. Jason: Yeah, same. Wanna tip, though? Gaslight the shit out of your therapist. Bruce: ...What? Jason: Lie to them. Forge fake stories. If they are a good therapist, they will catch you. But you know what? Mine believes me. Can't wait to find out just how far it can go. Bruce: That's wrong on so many levels. Bruce: ...I'll try.

Of all things that could mend Bruce and Jason's relationship, this makes a trick. They start discussing their therapy sessions all the time. But not because they receive some kind of useful feedback, but because they keep giggling about gaslighting their therapists.

Bruce unleashes his full Brucie Wayne potential on that poor therapist. Like, yeah, he will discuss his traumas... No, no, not his parents' death! He, of course, meant that one incident with Oliver Queen, when they were seventeen and drunk, and-

Bruce: I think I genuinely didn't have so much fun since forever. Therapists truly can help. Jason: I have an amazing idea how to make it even more hilarious. This one is a little insensitive, but hey. Whatever makes it funnier. Bruce, squinting: ...Jason. Jason: Are you in or not? Bruce: ...

*a few hours later, in the living room of the Manor, with all family members gathered*

Bruce: Jason and I asked you to come since we have news for you. As you know, we had been visiting therapists for a while, and it was an immense help to our mental health. As it was expected, in the middle of the sessions we came to the topic of our relationship. Jason: Yeah, uh. We kinda decided to get a separate therapist for this. Like, family one. For us to go together. And fix things. Bruce: Yeah. We just wanted to update you on this. All support would be appreciated. Dick, wiping his tears away: Guys. Guys, I am so proud of you. Jason and Bruce: *high-fiving each other behind their backs*

Do they actually go to the family therapist? Yeah! Do they still continue creating fake ass stories to test their doctor? Yeah! Do they actually by the accident start oversharing their own emotions during acting by an established scenario and actually get a whole mental breakdown in front of terrified therapist? Yeah...

Therapist: So, uh... *checking scribbled notes of a messy drama that Bruce and Jason rehearsed a night before* ...H-how about we think about where it brings us now? Mister Wayne, do you feel guilt about what happened? Bruce, answering automatically, out of prepared lines: Of course, I feel guilt. I always do. Therapist: Okay, why won't you try to apologise before your son? Bruce, stammering: I-I don't know, I am a prideful person Jason, also abandoning their script: Oh, wow, and I am not?! Therapist: O-okay. Uh, mister- Jason: Like, not saying, but it would be nice to see you discarding some of your pride, when all I do is to stomp on my own to please you! Therapist: Okay, okay, how about... Jesus Chirst, mister Wayne, mister Todd-Wayne, are you crying? Jason and Bruce, sniffling: NO!

[trashytracktales]

I need lando ANGST. Make me cry! But also smut! Goshhhh I need it. Something like they’ve been distancing each other and things have been so tense and one day lando catches reader getting herself off so he says ‘if you wanted me to fuck you all you had to do was ask.’ And then he ruins here. But lots of angst in the beginning. Ty I love you xx

Endings, beginnings | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Well. I was sobbing while writing this. Hope you're proud of yourself 💔

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𐙚 summary ──── They’re at a breaking point in their relationship, their stubbornness and jealousy pushing them so close to the edge. After agreeing to distance each other during an exhausting triple header, Lando returns home unexpectedly to find her in his apartment, trying to cope with his absence.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, angst, smut, toxic dynamics, emotional distress, descriptive language, masturbation, oral & fingering ─ (f)receiving, unprotected sex, swearing, potential relationship breakdown.

𐙚 word count ──── 5.1k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 12, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── This is my 10th work ayeee! Thank you guys so much for investing your time into reading my silly little stories, and for trusting me enough to bring your requests to life. I appreciate you a lot 🤍🎀

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IT'S LATE. THE kind of hour that turns Monaco into a still painting, muted and hollow, yet as breathtaking as ever.

Lando isn’t supposed to be home yet. The plan was to stay in Brazil for a couple more days after the race, but plans change when you're a professional overthinker. Somewhere between the chaos of three back-to-back races, he couldn’t stand the thought of another night in a hotel.

He needed to be in his own space so he could think.

The elevator ride to his floor seems like going on forever, his suitcase dragging heavily behind him, its wheels scratching aggressively against the polished floors the second he gets out of it. He’s expecting silence; an empty apartment, untouched, heavy with the ghosts of their last argument. But when he opens the door, the faint smell of her perfume hits him hard across the face, and his heart tightens.

His living room is dimly lit, the soft glow of a scented candle casting long shadows on the walls. A throw blanket is draped over the couch, and a half-empty mug of tea sits forgotten on the coffee table.

And then he sees her.

She’s curled up on the couch, wearing one of his oversized hoodies. Its sleeves cover her hands as she hugs her knees to her chest, her face partially hidden in the dim light of the room. Her hair is a little messy, and there’s a redness to her eyes that tells him she hasn’t been sleeping well — he knows he shouldn't, but he's glad he isn't the only one losing sleep over this. On a deeper level, it means they both care enough to let it consume them.

So, it has to count for something, right?

For a moment, he just stands there, staring. Then, the words spill out before he can stop them, or think of something else to ask, “Why are you here?”

Her head snaps toward him, her wide eyes betraying a mix of surprise and guilt. She looks like a deer caught in the headlights, frozen in place.

She straightens slightly, pulling the hoodie tighter around herself. “Lan…” she blinks in amazement, her voice barely audible.

“I just asked you a question,” he says, sharper than he initially intended.

He's not usually like this. But considering how they left things before he had to go, Lando is entitled to ask questions. It was her suggestion to separate, and finding her here only messes with his head more.

“I… know. I'm sorry,” she looks away, her fingers tugging at the hem of the hoodie. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” his suitcase thuds against the floor while he fixes his eyes on her. “Why are you in my apartment? We said we’d take some time apart.”

Her shoulders hunch defensively, but her voice remains the same as he knows it — soothing, carrying so much tenderness that it could stop wars. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Lando exhales harshly, nodding while dragging a hand through his curls. “We agreed on space, remember?” he insists, “You can’t just show up here like nothing happened.”

“I didn’t—show up,” she snaps, her tone suddenly sharper. “I’ve been here for a while. I didn’t know you were coming back so soon,” she repeats.

“Okay, then. Let me get this straight. You're here, but you don’t answer my texts anymore,” he fires back. “Does that make any sense to you? ‘Cause it sure as hell doesn't for me.”

“I was going to,” she retorts, standing now, the oversized hoodie swallowing her frame.

Lando takes a step forward, his hands on his hips. “I don't understand you. I thought this was what you wanted,” he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Space. Time. A chance to figure out if we even work anymore.”

“Yes,” the girl agrees, “I wanted to figure us out, not pretend we don’t exist.”

Lando's voice rises, his frustration spilling over, “You think I’m pretending? I’m doing what I thought you wanted! Because every time we’re together, we just end up—”

“Fighting,” she finishes bitterly. “Yeah, I know. Do you think I enjoy feeling like this all the time?”

His shoulders slump slightly, the fight draining out of him. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice softer now. “I don’t know what to think or do anymore.”

They stand there in silence, the weight of their shared frustration pressing down on them. She sits back down on the couch, clasping her hands on the edge of it.

When she finally speaks again, her voice cracks. “I don't want to fight, Lando. I’ve been staying here because I couldn’t be in my own place. Everywhere I looked, I saw you. I thought maybe if I stayed here, it would make sense to feel your presence, because it's your place.”

Lando’s jaw tightens as he lets her words sink in. The sight of her, wearing his clothes with tears in her eyes makes his chest ache. He wants to wrap himself around her and make sure nothing will ever hurt her again, but the ego works a double shift tonight.

Still, “I'm not mad that you're here,” he clarifies. “But why didn’t you tell me?” asks Lando quietly.

“I didn’t think it would make a difference,” she whispers. “I planned to leave before you… Well, it doesn't matter now.”

“See, that right there is the fucking problem. Of course it matters! Why wouldn't—”

“Because!” her firm voice interrupts him. “We keep hurting each other, and I honestly don’t think we'll ever stop. You’re stubborn and selfish, and I’m jealous, and we both jump to the worst conclusions about each other all the fucking time.”

Lando sighs, “Right,” he says after a pause, his voice laced with guilt. “I am stubborn and selfish,” he agrees, “I get angry too fast. Is that it? And you—you think I’m always looking for a reason to leave.”

Her breath catches as she looks down at a random point on the floor. “Aren’t you?”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He steps much closer, his voice firm. “No. I’m not. But you make it so damn hard to stay sometimes.”

He regrets his words the second they leave his mouth. He's aware that she's not the only one to blame for the situation that they're in, but at the moment, he's making it seem that way. He can't look at her hurt expression, so Lando closes his eyes for a second, a long silence settling in the distance dug so deeply between them.

She continues to look at him, anger flaring in her eyes. “Yeah, well, you make it hard to trust you, Lando. Every time you’re away, I feel like I’m waiting for the other bomb to drop.”

He finally opens his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright, what do you want from me, hm?” he asks. “I don't know what you expect me to do.”

Her voice breaks as she replies, “I don't have any expectations left. I just want to stop feeling like I’m losing you all the time.”

Lando’s face softens, the exhaustion from weeks of racing and months of fighting etched into every line. He steps closer, slowly, until he’s standing in front of her. He crouches down so they’re eye level, his expression conflicted.

Even as hurt as she is now, he is still amazed by her beauty. Gazing down at him, she spreads her legs gently so she could make more room for him in her space. However, she's doesn't dare to touch him, no matter how badly she needs to feel him, just to remind herself that he's real.

“I'm so fucking tired, baby,” says Lando, his voice breaking slightly. “Aren’t you tired?”

She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Every day, especially when you're not here,” she chokes out. “But I still want to try. God, Lando, I can’t imagine not trying.”

His hands reach for hers almost instinctively, but he acts with the same hesitation, pulling back at the last second. She notices, the flicker of hurt on her face evident in the way she squeezes her eyes shut, only to erase that image from her memory.

They sit in silence for a while, the air thick with unresolved issues and the weight of everything they can’t say. He studies her, trying to think ahead, but it’s impossible when she's like this — indecisive and lost.

Finally, Lando stands up, exhaling sharply. “I need a shower,” he mutters, heading toward the bathroom without another word.

She watches him go, her heart sinking. She’s still here, but somehow, it feels like she’s further away from him than ever. All she wants to do is jump into his arms and tell him she's missed him so much these past few weeks. Tell him how much she loves him, and that she would do anything to see him happy and satisfied with their life together. But she's too far away, and if she doesn't jump high enough, she could find herself free-falling, with no one to catch her on the other side. And that's too much of a risk, even for her.

When Lando comes back, his hair damp and his expression unreadable, she’s standing by the window, looking out at the city lights.

She doesn’t turn when he approaches, but she speaks softly, her voice small. “Do you even want me here?”

Lando freezes, her question cutting deeper than he expects. After a long pause, he answers, his voice low. “Of course,” he says. “But I honestly don’t think it's a good idea.”

She finally turns to look at him, her eyes searching his face. “Yeah…” the girl nods slowly. “I just—Lando. I can’t keep doing this if I’m the only one who believes we can make it.”

Lando nods. “Thing is, I don't know what to believe anymore,” he says honestly, his voice steady.

A simple truth that neither of them wants to acknowledge. But even as the words hang in the air, neither of them moves to leave. Because for all the pain, there’s still something tethering them together — something they’re both terrified to lose.

“I’ll take the couch,” he finally says, tugging the throw blanket off the armrest. His voice is flat, drained of the emotion that had filled it earlier.

“What?” she asks, startled.

“You can have the bed,” he clarifies, avoiding her gaze as he starts arranging the blanket. “It’s late. We’re both tired, and this… we can’t fix this tonight. We should rest and talk it out in the morning.”

She opens her mouth to protest, the words forming instinctively, but then she stops herself. He looks so tired, not just physically but emotionally. His shoulders are tense, his jaw set in that stubborn way she knows so well. He’s trying to create the space she's been asking for — not because he doesn’t care, but because he does.

“Okay,” she ends up saying, her voice small. Defeated. Once again.

At that, Lando turns to meet her eyes, his expression serious, almost distant. It’s a side of him she doesn’t see often, the version of Lando that’s careful and guarded. She hates it, hates the way it makes her feel like a stranger to him. But mostly, she hates that she’s the one who’s brought this out in him.

“Goodnight,” he says softly, his voice tinged with a finality that makes her stomach churn.

Alright then.

“'Night,” she replies, walking past him, their arms touching lightly.

She retreats to his bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her. The familiar scent of him — clean, musky, intoxicating but soothing, grounding her with its quiet presence and making her feel more at home than ever — wraps around her as she crawls into the bed they’ve shared so many times before. But it feels different now, colder, emptier. Foreign, somehow.

For a stupid, silly moment, she lets herself believe that things will be okay in the morning. That they’ll talk, really talk, and find a way back to each other. She clings to that thought as she stares up at the ceiling, her fingers clutching the edge of the blanket. But no matter how hard she tries, she can't shake the feeling that this is it.

Neither of them sleeps for hours after that.

IT'S FOUR IN the morning when Lando lies on the couch, his eyes fixed on the darkened ceiling as his thoughts race. He can hear the faint creak of the bed when she shifts, knowing she's not asleep, either, and it tugs at something deep inside him. He’s never been good at leaving things unfinished, and this is no different.

He pushes himself up from the couch for what feels like the hundredth time, his fingers curling and uncurling in frustration.

Maybe this whole thing was a mistake.

Maybe he shouldn’t have come home.

Maybe this is exactly why they need space, because when they're in each other's proximity, he simply can't think straight. Especially when she's just a few feet away, separated by only a simple door.

A door that masks the sounds of her soft cry.

Then, he hears the same faint sound, broken, but unmistakable. It cuts through his doubts like a knife through butter, sending a sharp pang of guilt and something deeper, a lot darker, straight to his chest. He hesitates for only a moment before moving toward the bedroom, his steps careful, almost hesitant. His hand hovers over the door, his heart pounding against his ribs as he takes a deep breath in.

Lando knocks softly, his voice barely louder than the quiet hum of the apartment. “Is everything okay?”

Nothing.

He knocks again, his jaw tightening.

The silence presses against him, thick and suffocating, until he can’t take it anymore. He twists the knob and pushes the door open, his pulse roaring in his ears as his eyes adjust to the dim light.

She’s sprawled on his bed, the sheets tangled around her hips, one hand clenched in the fabric while the other moves between her thighs. Her head is tilted back, her lips parted in soft, shaky gasps, and her eyes are squeezed shut like she’s trying to block out the rest of the world.

His throat goes dry, his emotions colliding in a chaotic storm of shock, desire, and something dangerously close to anger. Not anger at her — it never is — but at the situation, at the rift between them that’s left her seeking comfort this way. And at himself, for not being able to fix it.

He should walk away. He knows he should. But instead, he steps into the room, his movements slow and calculated as he crosses his arms over his chest, watching her intently.

Her eyes snap open, and for a moment, she looks utterly petrified. Her cheeks flush a deep crimson as she scrambles to sit up, her legs snapping shut as she fumbles for words.

“No, don’t let me interrupt you,” says Lando, his voice low and rough.

“You scared the shit out of me, Lando,” she stammers, her voice trembling. “I thought you were…”

Asleep.

“And I thought you were crying,” he says, wetting his lips. “Well, I was right in a way.”

The words hang heavy in the air, and she looks away, her hands twisting nervously in the sheets. He hates the way she shrinks under his gaze, but he can’t stop himself from taking another step forward. His jaw tightens again. He doesn’t know what to say or do, circling back to the same feeling.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to feel, either — hurt, anger, longing?

So much lust.

The silence stretches between them until it’s almost unbearable. And then, finally, she moves, swinging her legs off the bed like she’s about to leave.

But he doesn’t let her.

His hand shoots out, grabbing her ankle and tugging her back toward the edge of the bed. Her gasp echoes in the quiet room, her wide eyes locked on his as he steps between her legs, his grip firm but not forceful.

“What are you doing?” she whispers, her voice shaky, a mix of uncertainty and... hope that she already knows the answer.

“Fuck if I know,” he admits. His hands slide up her thighs, spreading them apart again, and he drops to his knees in front of her. “But I can’t just… I can’t leave you like this.”

“Baby,” she breathes, her tone caught between a plea and a warning.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “Please. I can't take this shit anymore.”

At the sound of his pleading, she reaches out, her fingers threading through his hair as her breath hitches. It’s all the permission he needs to press his lips to her warm entrance, soft and tentative at first, but when she arches into him, her body trembling beneath his touch, something inside him snaps.

Lando doesn’t hesitate once she gives in, her fingers tightening in his hair as her thighs tremble against his shoulders. His hands grip her legs, his touch firm but reverent, holding her open for him like he’s afraid she’ll change her mind.

The first swipe of his tongue over her slit is slow and deliberate, tasting her in a way that makes her breath hitch. He hums low in his throat, the vibration sending a shockwave through her that has her head falling back against the mattress.

“Lan…do,” her voice breaks on his name, a soft moan that sends a shiver down his spine.

“Always so sweet for me, love,” he exhales heavily, her scent intoxicating.

Lando's grip on her thighs tightens as he pulls her closer, his tongue moving with purpose now, circling her clit and flicking in a rhythm that makes her toes curl. The erotic sounds from between her legs make her close her eyes in pleasure, her pussy tightening around him with each intentional stroke of his tongue. He’s thorough, so meticulous, as though he’s trying to commit every whimper and every twitch of her body to memory.

“That's so good, Lan. Feels so good,” she lets out a string of moans, her eyes rolling as the air gets knocked out of her lungs. “Oh, god, I've missed your mouth so much.”

She traces her hand through his hair, holding him while her hips push forward, the bridge of his nose tickling her clit so sweetly. He wants to drown in her, to lose himself in the way she responds to him, every single time.

Each gasp feels like a lifeline, tethering him to something real, something he can hold on to when everything else feels so uncertain. Her fingers curl in his hair, tugging slightly as her hips begin to move against him, chasing the friction he so willingly gives. Lando's jaw clenches at the way she’s unraveling for him, and he redoubles his efforts, his tongue flicking faster, more insistently, as he pulls out to suck gently on her clit.

“Baby, please,” she's almost crying, her voice shaky, but still cutting through the air like a plea for salvation. “Need you… so close.”

Lando doesn’t stop. He can’t. Especially not when her legs start to tremble against him, her breathing becoming erratic as she teeters on the edge. Instead, he slides one hand from her thigh to her hip, pressing her down slightly to keep her steady while his other hand moves swiftly to where he has been tongue-fucking her. His long fingers slide gently through her wetness, curling inside as he finds the spot that makes her see stars.

She feels herself opening wider for him, then clenching harder while he adds just enough pressure to make her body tense, his tongue never ceasing its rhythm.

“Lando, I—” her words dissolve into a broken moan, and he knows she’s close.

His heart pounds in his chest as he keeps going, the sound of his fingers fucking in and out of her pussy blending so beautifully with the noise of his tongue lapping at her clit. He doesn’t care how long it takes; he’ll stay between her thighs forever if he has to. He won't move again until she falls apart beneath him. For him. Maybe then Lando will understand why he needs her so much, why the thought of losing her feels like losing a piece of himself.

When she comes, it’s like the world stops from spinning. Her body tenses, her thighs trembling as she cries out his name, over and over again, her release washing over her in waves. He should pull out and give her time to ride out her orgasm, but his tongue and fingers coaxing her through it, making her gasp for another breath, is sending shocks of ecstasy to his hardened cock. In his desperate attempt to relieve his pain, he rubs himself against the bed, but it is not nearly enough.

Finally, when her hands are falling limply from his hair, that's when Lando slows down his movements. He presses soft kisses against her inner thighs as he pulls back slightly, his hands gently stroking her soft legs.

“You alright?” asks Lando, his voice raw.

She looks down at him, her chest heaving as their eyes meet. There’s something vulnerable in his gaze, something that makes her throat tighten. His lips are swollen and glossy, his chin slick and glistening from her arousal. His breathing is as unsteady as hers, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he’s just run a marathon. The sight of him like this — completely undone and yet so devastatingly composed — makes her stomach clench with need. More need.

“Mhm,” she manages, heat rising from her chest to her cheeks, while her hand involuntarily travels back between her own legs.

Lando slowly wipes the wetness from his chin with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving hers. The motion is deliberate, almost taunting, as if he wants her to remember every second of her high. Then he rises to his feet, his big frame towering over her as he leans forward, bracing himself on either side of her hips. Her breath catches as he hovers above her, so beautiful and wrecked, his face so close that she can feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

She expects Lando to kiss her, her lips parting slightly in anticipation, but instead, he tilts his head and murmurs, his voice a low rasp that sends a shiver down her spine.

“If you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask, baby,” his unfiltered voice makes her heart race in her chest. “I don’t care that we’re fighting. It doesn’t matter how tired I am,” he continues, his eyes dark and piercing as they lock onto hers. “I’ll stop anything, drop everything, just to fuck my needy girl, yeah?”

The bluntness of his words, paired with the raw intensity in his voice, leaves her momentarily speechless, the pads of her fingers collecting whatever is left from her release. She whimpers softly, her lips parting again as she brings her fingers to his, pushing inside his mouth while watching his pupils dilating. Lando sucks on them with the same thirst as earlier, biting softly when she tires to pull out. At that, something inside her snaps. She surges up, her hands gripping the back of his neck as she pulls him into a fierce, desperate kiss.

His lips are warm and soft, slick with the taste of her still lingering there, and she can’t help the way she moans into his mouth. He groans in response, deep and guttural, as his tongue slides between her lips, claiming her in a way that makes her stomach flip.

It feels like fire and desperation, like he’s trying to pour all of his frustration into one single kiss. When his tongue moves against hers, she whimpers, the sensation achingly familiar yet entirely overwhelming. It feels like he’s everywhere, like he’s consuming her from the inside out, and she doesn’t want it to stop. Ever.

“Lan,” she moans into his mouth, “Please…”

Her pleading seem to break something in him. Lando pulls back just enough to meet her gaze, his lips curling into a slow, crooked grin, making her realize how bad she's missed seeing it. There’s something tender yet profoundly sad in his expression, though, a quiet heartbreak that makes her chest burn.

“Please, what? Hm, what do you need?” he murmurs, his hand tracing a soft, reverent path down her body.

His fingers graze her collarbone, her ribs, her hip, each touch filled with a tenderness that feels almost out of place amidst the heat between them. But she doesn’t care about the sadness or the hesitation. Not right now. She arches into his touch, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she's whispering nonsense, too drunk on him to make more sense than that.

Lando’s breath mingles with hers, his lips brushing hers in the faintest of kisses as he whispers, “You aching for me, baby?”

Her nod is small, almost imperceptible, but he feels it, and his hand slips down to her hip, grounding her. The weight of his touch is familiar, comforting even, and it sends a tremor through her body that she doesn’t try to hide.

“Hurts so bad,” she admits, her voice cracking as her eyes meet his.

“I know,” he nods slowly, his voice thick with emotion. “Can I me make it better?”

“Always.”

He presses his lips to hers fully now, a slow, lingering kiss that feels like a balm against the ache between them. It starts soft, tentative, as if they’re testing the waters, but quickly grows deeper. His tongue sweeps across her bottom lip, and she opens for him, sighing into his mouth as he kisses her with all the longing, irritation, and so much love that he’s been holding back.

His hands move with purpose, sliding under the hem of her shirt — his shirt — and pushing it up, exposing her bare skin. She gasps as his palms graze her sides, his touch igniting a fire that spreads through her veins.

Lando pulls back just enough to tug the shirt over her head, his eyes darkening as he takes her in. “My beautiful baby,” he says, almost like he’s reminding himself that she still belongs to him and vice versa.

Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t look away. Instead, she reaches for him, her fingers tugging at the hem of his own shirt. He helps her, pulling it off in one fluid motion before pressing his chest against hers, their bare skin meeting in a way that feels like coming back home after a long, tiring trip.

They move together like this, slowly shedding the layers between them until there’s nothing left but their bodies and the weight of everything they've done wrong.

He lowers her onto the bed, his lips never leaving hers as he settles between her legs. The warmth of his body, the solidity of him, makes her feel anchored, even as the storm inside her threatens to consume her. And when he enters her, it’s heaven, deliberate, like he’s savoring every inch of her. She moans, her hands flying to his shoulders as he stretches her, filling her with his perfect length. He stills for a moment, his forehead pressed against hers as they both adjust to his size.

“Remember how easy it used to be?” he whispers.

She nods while his lips are brushing her temple. “Yeah. I remember.”

The first thrust is painfully slow, managing to pull a soft moan from her lips. But soon enough, Lando sets a rhythm, one that feels familiar, almost nostalgic, like they’re trying to recapture the simplicity of how things used to be. She matches him, her hips rising to meet his, their bodies moving together in perfect sync.

As the pace builds, so does the intensity and vulnerability between them. The kisses become messier, more desperate, and his thrusts deepen, driving into her with a force that feels like a mix of anger and love.

“I don’t want this to be the end,” he says suddenly, his voice cracking as her nails dig into his back, leaving crimson lines in their wake.

“No?” she asks, a little hesitant.

His movements falter for a split second before he recovers, his eyes locking onto hers. “God. No, baby,” he says, his voice thick with determination. “We can fix this. I swear we can.”

Tears well in her eyes, and she can see his own glistening in the obscure lighting. They’re both breaking, and yet neither of them wants to let go.

Lando thrusts harder now, the force of it making her cry out as her body arches beneath him. She meets him halfway, her legs wrapping around his waist as she pulls him deeper inside her, as close as humanly possible. The room fills with the sounds of their bodies slapping against each other, their breathing, and their muffled cries.

“I need you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the rush of their movements. “Like this, all the time. Only you.”

“You have me,” he replies, his voice breaking. “You’ll always have me, you know that.”

“Promise me,” she demands as she starts clenching around him, the heat building once again inside her.

Lando gasps at the feeling, fucking into her harder. “Shit, baby. I promise you. I promise.”

The weight of his words pushes her over the edge, her release hitting her harder the second time around. She cries out, tears streaming down her face as her body shakes beneath him. He follows moments later, his own climax tearing through him as he buries his face in her neck, his shoulders trembling with the force of it.

They stay like that, tangled together, their bodies molding into each other as they come down from the high. But the tears don’t stop. They cling to each other, crying softly as the reality of their situation crashes down on them.

“I love you so much,” he says, feeling her fingers tracing patterns on his back.

“I love you, too,” she admits without hesitation. “Do you think that's enough?”

Lando lifts his head, his eyes red-rimmed but full of a tentative hope. “No. But it's a start.”

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[ssahotchnerr]

begging for nanny!reader x hotch

aka aaron discovers reader is going on a date, our man gets a bit mean and jealous, things get a bit steamy and it ends with him begging reader not to go🙈🙈

right now

🤭 cw; fem nanny!reader, jealous and some possessive!aaron 😵‍💫, slight bratty reader?, heavy suggestion - minors dni wc; 1.2k

"Homework is done. Soccer bag is packed for tomorrow, but uniform is finishing up in the dryer now." You relayed everything on your internal to-do list, mentally checking off each box. "Oh, he has a permission slip for a class trip in his folder that needs signing. I reminded Jack to remind you, but just so you're aware, too. He's eating at his friend's, so you don't have to worry about dinner."

Aaron nodded along to your instructions. You looked throughout the kitchen, as if something would pounce out and remind you of something you'd potentially forgotten.

When nothing availed, "Okay, that should cover it."

"You're amazing, per usual." Aaron complimented, exhaling an at-eased breath. He glanced around the clean apartment, before discreetly admiring you. "I can't tell you how nice it is knowing things are taken care of here. I'm able to come home and breathe. Jack adores you. Seriously, what would we do without you?"

You blushed at his praise, warmth sweeping through you. "Happy to help."

"How was he today?" He asked, swiftly grabbing the mail from the table, beginning to poke through it.

"Perfect. Per usual." You shared, tossing Aaron a grin. Jack made your job tremendously easy - he was cooperative, kind mannered, overall the sweetest kid. "Although, I did have to remind him to stop leaving his shoes in the middle of the entryway." You added jokingly, as if it could be an inconvenience.

Aaron chuckled. His eyes squinted humorously as he quipped in return, "I'll have a chat with him."

Your smile lingered, fading away gradually as you began packing yourself up. "And thanks for relieving me early. I know how busy you are, so I really do appreciate it."

Nervousness pumped through your veins at the thought of your evening plans. You've been in the Hotchners' lives for a few months now, so casually discussing your plans should've come naturally, easily, but it didn't. Not with all things considered.

"No problem, happy to accommodate. You deserve to relax too." His eyebrows furrowed, tossing aside unimportant, junk mail. "If you don't mind me asking, what're you up to tonight?"

"I, um," Your gaze dropped, grabbing ahold of your bag. Your cheeks flushed, suddenly feeling very guilty. You took your time answering, "I have a date, actually."

He stopped stifling through the mail at once, his gaze lifting. "A date?"

"Yeah." You continued to pack up, throwing your bag over your shoulder and avoiding his eyes altogether. "A date."

"With who?" Aaron's words were harsher than he anticipated, causing you to freeze this time. He didn't like the concept of you seeing someone, not a bit.

Your eyes finally met his - his hardened stare. The expression awakened something in you, and you reciprocated back, your words equally as blunt. "Nobody you know."

You've never witnessed Aaron like this, and likewise, it brought something out in you as well; a newfound attitude. You wanted to disobey, solely to see how he reacted. He clearly wasn't happy, and you were entranced to find out more; curious as to what he would do, and hoping it was what you had in mind.

Aaron stood there rigidly, silently seething. The atmosphere had changed completely. No longer was it a light, witty one - but filled with the utmost tension.

"Well, thanks again-" Your hand found the doorknob, pulling the door open a few inches. You didn't make it far; Aaron's hand found the door above your head, pushing it shut.

"What's he like?"

You always caught whiffs of Aaron's cologne all throughout the apartment, whether he was in the residence or not. It was spicy, yet subtly sweet; suitable for him.

But now with his close proximity, mumbling into your ear, it was dizzying. You couldn't think straight even if you tried. You turned, coming face to face with his chest. His button-up was stretched tight against his torso, adding to the illusion of the strong muscle he possessed underneath. His arm had also stayed put, to the right of your temple.

You were caged in, and not complaining.

It had a notable effect it had on you. You wanted to be all consumed by him; you needed him to take charge, and you'd willingly allow it.

Your back met the door, as well as your head as you gazed up at him. You were lost with words, your heart thumping wildly in your chest, restricting any normal breathing.

"What's he like?" He repeated, urging you to answer. While his voice remained taut, it was joined by a condensing tone. As if he knew better. Knew you better, and you weren't the one to object.

Needless to say, he was enjoying this: making you noticeably squirm, and the fact it didn't take much to do so.

Your breath hitched, going fuzzy at the edges. "I don't know. A friend set us up."

"I think you should cancel it."

"Excuse me?'

"By all means, you can go. Only," His eyes flicked up and down your body, slotting a thigh between your legs. "What you're exhibiting tells me you'd rather not."

You resisted the urge to grind down on his leg, attempting to remain as neutral as possible. "Are you profiling me?"

"Maybe." Aaron smirked softly. His eyes were dark, a deep contrast to the glow you had witnessed earlier. "Maybe I have been for a while."

"Okay." You challenged him, forcing yourself to speak up. With an arch of your eyebrow, "What have you noticed?"

A delightful little laugh escaped him. As stern as he was portraying, there was still a gentleness to him. "You want me to touch you right now."

"What?" You squeaked out. He wasn't wrong.

"Don't interrupt. Let me finish." He leaned in closer, his hands itching to make contact with your waist - to firmly hold you - to dig his fingertips just enough into your hips to leave marks. "I see the way you look at me. I always have. Similar to now, only your pupils are dilated. Your breath has picked up so dramatically, it's almost amusing."

You remained silent, holding your gaze, while he continued.

"This is the closest we've ever been to each other, and by no means are you trying to move away. You have the space to." He relaxed his stance, to emphasize his point. "You're in no hurry."

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to squirm. You were getting worked up, arousal pooling in you - it didn't help with your need for friction.

"I haven't done anything yet, and just look at you."

A soft whimper left you as you forced your posture to straighten, slowly perching up on your tiptoes. Your lip ached to meet his. The gap between the two of you was maddening; you needed him on you, you on him, you didn't care. As long as the contact was there.

"Do you want me to? I need a yes, sweetheart." He inched closer, his lips dangerously close, centimeters apart.

And with that, you succumbed to him completely, scrambling to throw your arms over his neck and pulling his body to yours.

"Yes."