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#Terri give me a break
monyrawolf21 · 5 months
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I have the theory that MC's father was k!lled by a vampire and maybe thats the reason why the mother us always on trouble because she wants to know the truth or she always known the truth about the vampires existence and she wanted to play along in the first book and part of the second but she didn't know until chapter 7 that Mc was a vampire
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schway-beyond · 1 year
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Batman Beyond and its villains being Spider-Man adjacent, in either character or in gimmicks:
Terry McGinnis/Batman - Peter Parker/Spider-Man
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Derek Powers/Blight - Norman Osborn/Green Goblin
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Stalker - Kraven
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Spellbinder - Mysterio
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Shriek - Shocker
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bramblesbriars · 2 months
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TIG Tier List
So...I made this, and forgot I made it. This was from a while ago but I thought I'd put it up since I rediscovered it.
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There's many movies I haven't seen, as obvious from this list, but if I'm honest I'd take him any way he is (except with the blonde weird mullet thing I don't know what's going on there). So I need to fill in these gaps soon.
But all the Terry’s are top tier for me. I'll fight you about it.
Anyway, I'm just gonna leave this here and go back under my TIG infested rock.
Enjoy!
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we-re-always-alright · 9 months
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I am two books away from reaching my goal for the year!!!!!!!!!
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Pt III good omens but i STILL SOMEHOW haven't watched it (and i'm increasingly passive aggressive)
i'm now basically held hostage adopted as mascot by this fandom. it's fine i'm fine *SIGNALS FOR HELP DESPERATELY*
Alright fuckers I swear this time I'm going to get some shit right. Without further ado, here's my third attempt at a good omens summary:
Everything everywhere is queer all at once
Angel Aziraphale and demon Crowley on earth likey each other
The car is a bentley and it is BLACK not silver and everyone is very upset about this. my bad yall it was reflecting light therefore i guessed more silver than black but I'm not Anish Kapoor take your black.
Then it is yellow, and aziraphale likes it. crowley preferred the black because he's a flamboyant emo.
God is a deadbeat absentee parent and you are all children of divorce.
There's a naked archangel and they cause problems for the husbands somehow. By being naked? By being an archangel? By being at their doorstep? Who knows not me
They were actually married for 6000 years, they just are the last to know about it.
Crowley is on fire. Like, he's slaying for sure, but also he is literally on fire, like Aziraphale's bookstore.
The actors like I said before are Michael Sheen and David Tennant but this is the place where I finally admit that I don't actually know who is whom. I'm going to assume Michael is Aziraphale because Michael sounds angel-y and David is Crowley because uh Michaelangelo made David and was gay for him.
Terry Pratchett is not fictional.
He co-wrote the book with @neil-gaiman, who IS fictional, because he does not have social media. Several of you have assured me that he is in fact a fandom inside joke. I like to think he would be proud of me.
They adopt a preteen and Crowley gives him bad advice.
At some point a baby was delivered to someone and was exchanged for the son of Satan. Idk if the baby is the preteen, or the son of satan is the preteen, or neither. This could be a fanfic, I have no way of differentiating the fanfic from canon on tumblr, except that the canon is weirder.
Crowley does not go down a chute. He goes down a telephone cord after making himself microscopic to pole dance on a pin with shroom-induced backgrounds.
During this his stage name is Disco Tony. Get it king go slay you're making better life choices than I am tbh.
Aziraphale is a biblically accurate angel, and you have all gone to extensive lengths to prove this to me. I understood nothing, but there you go.
It's all very queer, just like the fandom.
Crowley is a retired demon but he still sins by breaking the speed limit.
They eat at fancy restaurants and bicker but like in a sexual undercurrent way.
Crowley gives Aziraphale a private dance that is not a lap dance, it is an apology dance, but not in a kinky way, until it is.
Their haircuts keep changing and range from 'this is acceptable and gay' to 'i let a drunk chimpanzee take gardening shears and a blowtorch to my hair'
It's all ineffably queer my good fellows
Everyone keeps trying to convince me Neil Gaiman is the villain yeah no guys I know it's really you. Y'all be like 'SEASON TWO BROKE ME' and then you're making headcanons to make it sadder yeah I see you mmhm.
There is a final fifteen. It is sad. What is it? No one told me.
The demon turns goats into crows and the angel turns them back and then children are turned into newts (does the angel turn them back? who cares not yall) and the demon was the snake in the Eden garden and everyone's furry game seems to be on point.
There are a rather lot of children. I have not seen them. But I am assured they are there. They are, guys. I assume they were turned into the alcohol Aziraphale and Crowley drink or something.
There was an apocalypse plotline. It was averted. It is not important. You don't talk about plotlines in this fandom, no sir.
Crowley doesn't want to go to heaven. Aziraphale is sad.
The kiss is not nice, just like this fandom. It is queer, just like this fandom. It is sad and desperate and masochistic, just like this fandom.
Aziraphale doesn't want to stay back with Crowley. Crowley is sad.
Season 2 ends. Fandom is sad.
Everyone's sanity is hinging on the promise of a happy ending in season 3. Good luck guys.
Y'all better appreciate this. I can't even boast to my mother about this legacy of mine, hey mum your son has been held hostage kidnapped inducted into a cult adopted by a fandom he's not part of look he's winning at life.
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linkeduniverse · 9 months
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Our Hero transformed a lot in TotK. At first, he was known as Zelda's knight, but he became much more. People recognize and respect him, and he plays a big role in the kingdom's growth alongside Zelda becoming an active and involved member of his community. This change from being a quiet knight to a lively community leader would really impress Twilight and Warrior. But When it comes to LU Wild, he's yet to achieve these things. His life in the Kingdom still has its challenges that he is trying to tackle. Originally, I wrote Wild to desire growth for his kingdom, much like Terry Town but on a larger scale. Surprisingly, it became quite literal in TotK!
So here's the thing: He's not a character to simply replace; he's dynamic and evolving. His life and journey have significant phases, showing growth and change. If I introduce the ToTK version of Wild in TotK, it disrupts his character development in LU. I've crafted scenes where he learns and grows from various individuals—heroes, princesses, and queens alike. The Princess of the Wild also has her own moments of growth interacting with others. Skipping to their 20s would mean ditching this growth.
I suppose Wild's a lot like Time now. Time, how he's featured in LU, is in the middle of his canon appearances. A little of who he was, and a little of who he will be. Wild too is that middle ground now that he has a trilogy for himself. But what I will say is TotK revealed more of  Wild's unique ability to be resourceful in unconventional ways. I did intentionally limit his usual resources to highlight his uniqueness. Missing an item would break any other Zelda adventure, but for Wild, anything can be a tool. No key? No problem! He’s at his best when circumstances are at their worst because unlike other heroes reliant on specific items, Wild finds a way. But now with TotK, that's his defining trait. The crazy builds in TotK perfectly showcase this…creativity… of his.
TotK definitely gives me a canon trajectory for Wild's (and his princess) goals. All in all I would still like to add some sort of TotK, even if it's small, in LU but as of now I'm still  drawing a blank. I'm not worried about it. An Idea will happen organically if it's meant to be
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crocwork-clockodile · 2 months
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I'm a little more than halfway through reading Terry Pratchett's Night Watch (yes I know, it's taken me a while, hush) and my dad, who introduced me to them when I was in high school, told me this was the first Discworld book he'd ever read. That made me feel all sentimental anyway, but this evening I realized this book has been part of my life far longer than I'd realized.
Young Havelock Vetinari, student at the Assassin's Guild school, has been researching different forms of camouflage found in the animal world, and thus is breaking Assassin tradition of wearing all black. It's stylish, but it's pointed out several times in this book that black silhouettes still stand out in the shadows. So he's taken to wearing grey and dark green, muddy colours. And reading that, I was overtaken by the memory of my dad, years ago, when I was just little, explaining to me that if you want to blend into the night, don't wear black, because the night isn't black, it's dark blues and greens and greys, and black will still stand out. I don't remember why he was giving me this Assassin instruction, but it stuck with me forever. And now, here I am, finding the man who taught my dad all those years ago. I love these books so much, they're such an intrinsic part of my heart, sometimes in ways I don't even realize yet!
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megamindsecretlair · 10 days
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Can you please write an Aaron Pierre smut fic or love story? 🙏🏽
A/N: Ya'll don't get me started on this man. Just don't. I'm obsessed.
Wild
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving) teasing, size kink, dirty talk, degradation kink if you squint, rough sex, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.
Summary: You went on a small camping trip with Terry, who graciously helped to introduce you to hiking. After a critter destroys your tent, you stupidly volunteer to share his. Shouldn’t be too bad, right?
Word Count: 5,859k
AO3 Link
A/N: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE. Don't ask for him no more! (kidding, kinda) I will never be normal about him. It just kept going. My shoulder has been on fire for the past two weeks so I'm taking a much needed break. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
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You stepped carefully along the ground. You made sure not a twig nor rock slipped beneath your shoes as you picked your way through the thicket of trees. Terry gave you a head start, closing his eyes and turning around with a smug look on his face.
You’ll show him though. There was no way he could track you this time. The ground was dry, you didn’t step on anything, and you worked with intention. The goal was to get to the river before he could catch up to you.
So far, it had to have been at least fifteen minutes since he started counting. That was a good enough lead, right? 
You were distracted. But something had to keep your mind off of your pursuer. You and Terry had formed an easy friendship, seeing each other around the gym. When he mentioned hiking was a hobby of his, you mentioned that you wanted to get into it but wasn’t sure where to start.
You should have kept your mouth shut. Spending nearly every week up close and personal with him was a new level of personal hell. He was so damn pretty. You didn’t often call men pretty, because…well…but he was!
The most striking eyes ever rimmed in dark eyelashes as if he were wearing eyeliner. Wide nose and even wider lips. An adorable, incredible smile. You stepped behind a tree and paused for a moment, bending over to grab your knees. 
Fuck you were out of shape. And trying to keep up with Terry’s tall ass was a struggle. Beyond a struggle. For every step he took, you had to scurry behind. And he didn’t believe in breaks. Fuckin’ ex military. 
You breathed through your nose though that only made breathing difficult. Didn’t help that you were horny as hell either. You leaned up and pressed your back against the bark of the tree, hoping no critters tried to ride home with you.
You took off your hat and wiped your brow, looking at your surroundings. The woods itself had thick trees, fluffy leaves, and branches that stretched high in the sky. Dots of sunlight slanted, giving you a peek at the bright blue sky. Terry would call it quits soon. You pouted. This was the second mini camping trip you’d been on with him and you hadn’t been able to escape him.
You replaced your hat on your head and risked a glance behind you. No sign of Terry. Good. You grinned and took off again, picking carefully through the woods. The water was close. You could hear the current from where you were. 
Almost there, oop around that rock, and ahhh, almost stepped on a rock. Ha. In his gorgeous face. 
You almost laughed but it would give away your position. You pressed your hand to the nearest tree as you swung around it just as strong arms pushed you into the tree.
You screamed as Terry moved in behind you, pressing his chest against your back. “Found you,” he said. His voice was low and deep, emerging from somewhere deep in his wide chest.
You groaned and slapped the tree. “How the hell did you find me?” You asked.
Terry chuckled and stepped away from you. You missed the heat of his body already. You schooled your features and turned around with a smirk on your face. You folded your arms across your chest so he couldn’t see how hard you were gasping for air. For more than one reason.
“You’re loud as hell,” he said. 
“Was not! I was being quiet! I made sure I was!” 
Terry looped his fingers through his hiking backpack and tilted his head at you. “I’ve been following you for ten minutes,” he said.
You looked away, back the way you came. Shit. What did he hear? What did he see? You may or may not talk to yourself to get yourself through shit. You ran through the past ten minutes, trying to think of what you said or did or if you drew any attention to the horrible crush you had on him.
He had to know his appeal. But you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. You weren’t only friends with him because he was hot. That was loser shit. You genuinely valued his opinions, his outlook. You loved that he had a way of making everyone at ease with just a few quiet words or a playful look. 
But that goddamn body. You looked back towards his face, because if you looked at his shirt, dripping with sweat, you’d combust on the spot. Terry smirked as if he could read your thoughts and pointed the way you came.
“You have to be aware of your surroundings if you do find yourself in a situation like this. It’s not about being quiet. It’s about moving fast, moving smart, and trust nothing,” he said.
You put your hands on your hips and pouted. “One of these days you’re not gonna be able to catch me,” you said.
He chuckled. “I’d still catch you,” he said. He smirked and turned around, heading into the woods, away from the water. 
You’d just have to train when he wasn’t around being a distraction. You sighed, trying to not let the sting of failure drag you into the dumps. You walked behind him, your consolation prize being his nice, gorgeous ass. 
He wore camo pants and a gray t-shirt, hiking boots, and tall thick socks. The pants really showed off his assets. You bit your lip imagining what it’d be like pressed up against all that piece of man. 
“Keep up!” He barked out. You huffed and whined, jogging to catch up to him.
“You do know you’re like, eight feet tall right?” You asked.
He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, giving him an animalistic side eye. His eyes were lethal. Your breathing stuttered and you hoped he didn’t hear it because god. “And you must be part lion? Part tiger? Yo ass ain’t natural,” you said, hoping to diffuse whatever spell he managed to weave whenever he trained those eyes on you. 
Terry chuckled. “You trynna say I’m not human?” 
You didn’t answer right away, only because you were trying not to huff and puff as you talked. You needed your inhaler, but you also left it in your tent. Yes, yes, you knew it was a dumb move. But hell, there was nothing more embarrassing than having to stand there and use it.
“I mean…” you said, letting the sentence dangle.
Terry gave you that side eye again, his mouth twisted in a frown. You gave him an innocent smile back, batting your eyes all innocent-like. Terry only shook his head, the corners of his mouth drifting down as he tried to hide a smile. 
You walked together in silence, grateful if only because your lungs were burning. When you decided to go on this journey of getting in shape and getting your mind right, you never thought you’d be in the woods. Let alone with someone like Terry. 
He was competent, knowing so much about living off the grid and being prepared. He carried all kinds of tools with him. You had a thirst for knowledge, asking him a million questions. He answered every single one too. If you could clone him and pass him out like candy to your friends, you would. There needed to be more men like him. 
A trail of ripped paper littered the ground like patches of snow in the middle of fall. “No,” you gasped.
You sped up as Terry’s hands shot out to stop you, but you pushed past him, running towards your campground. Your tent was on the far left, torn to pieces and ripped apart. Your journal had been shredded, ripped apart by some kind of animal. Your clothes were thrown about.
You were only out here for a day and night, getting a tiny taste of camping thanks to Terry. You’d never been. Growing up an inner city kid, Black parents didn’t play that shit. The school yard was your jungle. You were threatened with going to stay out in the woods if you didn’t like living under their roof. It wasn’t a regular occurrence for you or your friends growing up. 
The small fire pit had been picked over as well. You made a wailing sound as you tried to gather up the ripped pieces of paper. All those memories gone. All those feelings torn up. Some pieces flew with the breeze and you took off your own backpack, trying hard not to cry.
“You can’t run ahead like that. What if it was dangerous?” Terry scolded you. His voice got deeper, eyes narrow. He bent down to help you pick up the pieces of paper.
“Please, don’t! I got it,” you said. Perhaps a bit harsher than necessary. You weren’t going to cry. It was a minor setback. Things happened. You play stupid games and you won stupid prizes. 
Perhaps your parents were right. You should’ve kept your ass inside. Without all these damn bugs, and twigs, and fucking leaves tangling in your braids. 
Terry busied himself with picking through your tent, analyzing what may have happened. Home. When you got home, you would be able to break down. Not here. Not with Terry right there. His ass didn’t skip a beat.
“Might’ve been a bear. Or something similar looking for food,” he shouted over his shoulder.
You nodded but weren’t sure if he saw you. You only wanted to clean up your mess. You had so many ideas you wanted to jot down when you got back. So many observations, thoughts that raced through your mind on your hike. Now those thoughts would be gone too. Terry’s one rule this morning was no cellphone. 
You could do a day without it. Boy, were you wrong. You made a mental note to keep your journal with you from now on. Or start carrying a smaller notebook for bullet points and then journal at home, like a sane woman.
“You can take my tent. I’ll sleep out here and make sure nothing circles back,” he said.
You stopped from grabbing the last piece of torn paper from a bush nearby and turned to face him. “I won’t make you do that,” you said.
Terry stood up and dusted his hands, unstrapping his back from across his chest. “I didn’t ask,” he said.
You snagged the last piece and carried your pathetic pile to your ruined tent. You liked that tent. You just bought that tent. Did the fucking bear think money grew on trees? You kicked at the black and orange heap and faced Terry.
“I didn’t either,” you said. 
Terry watched you with those deadly eyes as he dropped his bag to the ground. He used the bottom of his shirt to clean his sweaty face. Damn. His words drew your attention back to his face. “I’ve been trained to survive outdoors. You haven’t.” 
You tucked the pile of paper into your ruined tent and then faced him once more. Terry was about to meet a hard rock. “Don’t start with the macho act, okay? We’re adults. I’m not making you stay outside while I’m tucked away all nice and toasty in your tent,” you said.
A smile curved his lips as he stepped closer, using his height to his advantage. You had to look up otherwise you’d just be staring at his chest. You stood your ground and tilted your head. He may have the advantage. He may be just as stubborn as you were. But you did not back down. Ever. Some called it a toxic trait but there were other ways to survive. Everybody had something.
Terry’s eyes were even more dangerous up close. Not quite blue. Not quite brown. Some mix of the two that was hypnotizing in the way he coldly assessed you. You didn’t know what he was thinking. His poker face was lethal. Not a hint or a clue.
“What do you suggest, then?” He asked.
A hotel, a shower, a bed, twenty four hours, and a bottle of lotion. But that was neither here nor there. You licked your lips and blinked at him. “We can share. Or do you not want my cooties in your tent?” You asked.
That surprised a laugh out of Terry. He shook his head. “Fine. But I snuggle in my sleep,” he said. 
His jaw flexed. He looked expectantly at you, lifting an eyebrow like he expected you to back down. You only raised your chin. “Good, I get cold at night,” you said.
He blinked slowly and nodded, rocking back on his heels before stepping away. “I’ll help with your tent then, before we lose the light,” he said.
When he turned around, you sighed quietly. Shaking out your sweaty palms. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod. What the hell did you do that for? 
You berated yourself as you and Terry worked as a team, removing your items from inside and rolling up your tent. He secured it with rope from inside his backpack and you had a wayward thought that made you laugh out loud.
Terry had knelt on the ground, one knee up, as he secured your tent. He looked up at your laugh and you waved him off. 
“What is it?” He asked, a small smile on his lips.
“Nothing, it’s stupid,” you said.
“I want to know,” he said.
You pinched your lips, wondering if you should say. Aw hell, you had to get it out now otherwise you’d be giggling in your sleep all night. “You kind of remind me of Dora,” you said.
“The kid’s show?” He asked.
You nodded and tried to hold in the laugh, but your stomach cramped from trying. His expression only made it worse as he stared at you like you were crazy. Maybe you were. Maybe you didn’t need to be in a tent with him all night. 
Terry chuckled and shook his head. “Magic backpack?” He asked.
You nodded and burst into laughter. His eyes narrowed but he smiled at you. “Come on, giggles, we’re not done,” he said.
“Work, work, work, is that all you think about?” You asked.
“No,” he said, his voice low and soft. You tilted your head at him and he gave you a funny look. Assessing you again. He didn’t elaborate further as he moved your sleeping bag inside of his tent.
“I’ll roll mine in a bit. Let’s clean this up some more before we hit the stream,” he said.
You thought about look on his face as you cleaned up around the campfire. There was no food to be found, so whatever creature or critter that did it, just made a whole lot of mess for nothing. 
You threw away your journal pages into the small trash bag Terry had tied high in the tree above your campground. He secured it back in place after getting it down for you, gifting you with a side view of his abs. Good god, the man was built in all the right ways. God took his time with this one.
Nice and clean with only one tent now, Terry let you go to the stream to freshen up first. The woods lacked fresh amenities but it was one of those parks that did have strategically placed rest areas. You handled business and then went down to the small stream a ways down from the campsite.
It was within shouting distance and you used the fresh water to clean the sweat from your body. You returned, feeling much better now that your skin wasn’t so sticky. Terry went next, disappearing from view and already lifting his shirt.
You took a risky glance over your shoulder, admiring the cut of his back as he stalked through the woods. His narrow hips moved with ease, ass in full view. Your mouth watered as your canine caught on your lower lip. You’d eat that man alive if given half the chance.
Terry’s head was on a swivel, looking around just on GP. You hurriedly looked away, grabbing your inhaler from your pocket. You retrieved it during clean up but was too nervous to use it in front of him.
Lot of good it did you now, but you took two deep puffs to clean all this fresh air from your lungs. The one thing you did not have in common with your ancestors was a major love of the outdoors. Fuck the air and nature. Give you a hot bath and TV any day of the week. 
Terry returned and you eased into conversation, talking about your families as the light disappeared. Terry started a fire, stoking it with a stick. You talked about life goals, hobbies, or anything really. Watched as he moved, talked, or the way he laughed. Listening to his voice was soothing. Welcoming. Terry caught fish in the river earlier and cooked it over that fire when it was good and ready. 
You yawned one too many times and Terry chuckled. “Head inside, I’ll do one last check,” he said.
“We didn’t get to tell any scary stories,” you said.
Terry shook his head and smiled. He was already dimming the fire, carefully stamping out hot rocks in the pit he built. Watching that man build a fire shouldn’t have got you that hot and bothered but it did.
“Next time, if you’re up for it.”
“You never stop, huh?” You asked, sleepily. 
Terry shrugged. “Not much to slow down for,” he said. He looked at you over the fire. The light from the flames danced across his skin, making him seem even more otherworldly. An understanding passed between you and you nodded, getting up without issue. 
You patted his shoulder, understanding the note of loss in his voice. You’d been there. You didn’t understand his pain, but you understood loss all the same. You took a deep breath before heading inside his tent.
It smelled like him. Like all, pure male. You whimpered, climbing on top of your sleeping bag. He had a nice tent. Much nicer than yours, even though his was well used. It had been folded and unfolded so many times, the grooves were permanent at this point. 
His sleeping bag was brown and looked more like a blanket compared to yours. Did his big ass even fit inside of a sleeping bag? How did he normally sleep? Did he have a bed big enough to hold him? Did he sleep sideways?
You were only half sure that he was playing when he said he snuggled in his sleep. He never mentioned a girlfriend or a wife. Did he have big pillows to snuggle? You stared at the domed ceiling of the tent, picturing what Terry looked like at rest. 
It only made your pussy flutter picturing his smooth, dark skin. Eyes closed. Mouth slightly parted. Did he snore? You probably should have asked that before volunteering to share a tent with him.
The rustle of Terry entering the tent made you shriek and sit up, like you were caught with your hand in a cookie jar. Terry stopped at the entrance and looked at you. “Just me. Do you want me to stay outside?” 
“No. Um. I was just thinking,” you said. Thinking about sucking that –
“Are you sure?” 
“Yes,” you said, quietly. 
You couldn’t see his face now that the fire was out. He was just a solid wall of black, crab-walking into the tent and then zipping it up behind him. You were acutely aware of every move he made. Every sigh. Every huff of breath.
“Go to sleep,” he said.
“How the hell do you know I’m still awake?” You asked.
“You’re too loud,” he said. 
You could hear the smile in his voice and you rolled your eyes. “Heard that too,” he said.
“Oh, shut it!” You said, rolling over to your side. Terry chuckled as he climbed into his sleeping bag. 
You shut your eyes and focused on your breathing, focused on falling asleep. Terry made it surprisingly easy. His gentle breathing was its own type of sound machine, lulling you to sleep along with the crickets outside. The soft hum of the water nearby. Before you knew it, you were out like a light.
Rustling jerked you awake. It was hard to truly knock out in the middle of nowhere, next to someone like Terry, and not still be keen to every single sound. You were feeling hot as hell, like you woke up in a sauna.
Terry’s arms were wrapped around you and you were snuggled up under his neck, inhaling his deep masculine scent. You cracked an eye open, though you still couldn’t see. Pitch black outside and inside the tent.
Terry hummed as more rustling turned your attention from the fact that he really did snuggle in his sleep. The noise made your heart speed up, clogged up your throat, made it hard to breathe.
Terry tightened his arms around you and drew his face down until his mouth was against your cheek. “Shh,” he said, too quiet. You didn’t think him capable.
He extracted himself from you, moving in a way that didn’t make noise at all. He even managed to unzip the tent without making a sound. He only unzipped it far enough to peek out.
You weren’t a damn damsel in distress. So you rolled over, not as quiet as him, and joined him at the entrance. There was enough light from the moon to cast a low glow over the campsite. There was nothing truly out there, but the rustling continued. The sound increased, and got closer and closer.
Your hand flew to Terry’s exposed knee, gripping on for dear life as an actual deer walked out of bushes and sniffed the air. You sighed, deflating against Terry’s side. Terry sighed as well, unzipping the tent more to get a good look. 
The both of you watched the deer nose around the campsite, likely following the smell of Terry’s good cooking. It’s ears swayed back and forth, picking through nothing as Terry was meticulous about cleaning up after himself.
“You were scared,” he whispered, shaking his head.
“So were you!” You fired back.
“Nah, I was good,” he said.
“You liar,” you said, with a chuckle.
“It’s okay if you were scared, you know,” he said. 
“Ain’t nobody scared of no damn deer. And ain’t nobody need your protection,” you said. You poked him in his chest. When did he find a chance to ditch his shirt? You had been snuggled next to that hunk of meat and he didn’t have a shirt on?!
“No?” Terry leaned over, his lips grazing your ear. “Go out there and say hi.” He tried to push you out of the tent and you fought him, trying not to spook the deer. One wrong move and the deer took off.
You giggled as you wrestled with Terry. He was so big, you didn’t stand a chance. It didn’t take much effort to subdue you, but you bucked and wrestled for control. No dice. Terry laughed as he pinned you beneath him, legs spread wide as he scooted in and leaned down close to your face.
“Give up?” He asked.
“Like hell,” you said. You had siblings. You knew how to scrap. Yet, all you did was rub your body against his growing bulge. 
You stopped wrestling for control. Your breaths were harsh and loud in the stillness of the tent. Terry’s chest rose and fell but he wasn’t as loud as you. You stopped struggling against his hold, letting him pin your wrists to the ground above your head.
“Hmm,” he hummed, a rumbling sound low in his chest. “Ain’t that better?” 
“Terry?” You asked.
“Mhm,” he said, leaning down to rub his stubble across your chin. 
“Kiss me,” you said.
Terry leaned up and kissed you. You moaned into his mouth. His lips were just as juicy, just as lush. Soft to the touch. And he was an expert. Kissing, retreating, licking, retreating, biting, retreating. He drove you wild, not giving an inch. Not giving you any wiggle room.
He completely caged you beneath him. Beneath the heaviness of him. He still had your wrists pinned, so you weren’t able to touch him like you wanted. You weren’t the type to be agreeable for agreeable’s sake.
Terry growled at your attempts to shake his hold. Shake his control. He bit your lip, hard, and you cried out, ending on a moan. He licked the sting away, kissing down your jaw and to your neck.
“Fuck do you do to me?” He asked, more to himself as he kissed and explored your skin. He ground his bulge into your pussy and you whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist.
Just as he showed you in training, you managed to buck your hips and flip him over. You wailed in triumph, not actually believing that would work. Your breaths were harsh, wild, as you finally got to touch him. Your hands roamed over his broad, warm chest. He took great care of his body.
In a lightning quick move, Terry grabbed your arm and flipped you over to your stomach. He grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them behind your back. You cried out from the force, but it was welcome. Inviting a rush of heat to flow through you, straight to your dripping pussy. You moaned as Terry dropped his weight on top of you.
His dick aligned with your ass and you tucked it higher. He grunted and slapped your ass. “Ow!” You yelled, more from surprise. Though the fucker did hurt. With hands as large as his, he managed to cover a wide area of your ass. Leaving behind a burning sting that only made you wiggle your ass against him.
“Fighting only turns me on, princess,” he said. He leaned down to your ear and growled. He sounded damn near like a lion. “Give up?” He nibbled on your ear.
“Fuck no,” you said and giggled. 
Terry moved your wrists to one hand, then used his free hand to pull your joggers down over your ass. You whimpered as he caressed your booty, intentionally missing the heated core of you. 
You moaned, trying to wiggle your ass where you needed him most. All these months of pining, of wanting, of yearning, were coming to a head. All those times training, working beside him, tangling with him were catching up to you, Making you feel like you were going to burn to a crisp.
“Use them big girl words and tell me what you want,” he said.
You arched your back. Begging, crying whimpers escaping you as his big fingers skirted the outer edge of your pussy. The smell of your arousal permeated the tent. There was no way to deny how turned on you were. If you could just, wiggle, and move a little to the left–
Terry slapped your ass. “What did I say?” He asked.
You groaned. “Fuck me!” Your horniness won this round.
Terry chuckled evilly, plunging his fingers into your dripping wet hole. You both moaned at the contact. He went knuckles deep with no resistance. He wiggled two fingers inside of you, making you moan loudly like a slut. 
“Was that so hard?” He asked, whispering in your ear as he continued to finger fuck you. He fingered you with all the precision he was known for. Immediately making you grind on his fingers. 
“You can do better than that. Get that shit you want so bad,” he said. He mocked you, he teased you. Every cry or whimper that came out of your mouth, he responded with an evil chuckle or a moan of his own in your ear.
It was always followed randomly by a growl in his chest. The intimacy of the dark and the wet sucking of your pussy drove you closer to that climax. Barreled into it. Crashed into it. You screamed, loud, calling his name as that climax slammed into you like a truck.
“There it is. Shit feel good, don’t it?” He asked.
You nodded your head, forgetting for a moment that it was dark and he couldn’t see you. He released your wrists and then grabbed a handful of your braids, yanking your head back. “Don’t it?” He asked.
“Yesss,” you moaned, biting your lip and rubbing your ass against him. “Oh, fuck me, baby. Now.”
Terry chuckled, smacking your ass. “As much as I want to, I don’t have a condom,” he said. 
“I’m clean. On the pill,” you said. Thank god for that. There was no way you’d be able to sleep tonight without the feel of him inside of you. 
“Are you sure?” He asked.
You nodded, feeling your braids pull as it was still trapped in his tight grip. Terry chuckled. There was the sound of sucking. He moaned. “Taste good. Can’t wait to get back home and spread you on my bed. Hmm, maybe my dining table. Eat you like the good fuckin’ meal you are,” he said. 
He moved behind you, lowering his pants. He groaned, rubbing his dick against your folds. Oh shit. He was working with a third leg. “Oh shit, Terry,” you moaned. Your belly ached. Hollowed out. You were so empty. 
“You’ve been driving me crazy wearing those leggings. And that skirt you wore last week?” Terry talked as he rubbed his dick between your legs. You shook. Terrified of taking all that but knew you had to try. Had to relax and let the master work. 
“What took you so fuckin’ long?” You asked. 
Terry chuckled and smacked your ass, pulling your braids back. You moaned, back arching even more. “That little attitude of yours,” he said. 
“Fuck y–”
Terry pushed into your wet heat, cutting off all words. You reached back, trying to grab onto him. He smacked your hand away and pushed in further, gaining more and more inches inside of you.
Your legs shook. You whimpered as he retreated and then slammed back inside. He sunk further in, stretching you, molding you around his dick. “Oh god, oh fuck, oh god,” you moaned. The delicious burn was too much. Not enough.
Terry moaned, grabbing your hip and pulling you further onto his dick. You didn’t think he could fit inside any more. Surely, he bottomed out by now? 
“Not so tough with some dick in you,” Terry mocked. 
To prevent you from saying something smart, Terry moved with earnest. His stroke game was as intense as the man himself. His strokes were brutal. Punishing. He groaned with every slide inside of you, making your thighs tingle with pleasure.
“Slam that shit back,” he said. 
You placed your hands on the ground and threw it back on him, rising up to meet each of his thrusts. Each of his long strokes. Accepting his dick. Accepting everything he gave you.
“Terry! Oh, you fuck me so well,” you said. You sniffled, screaming with every thrust.
Terry chuckled. “I know. Spread your legs wider,” he said.
He stopped stroking so that you could spread your legs more. You moved your feet to the outer edges of his legs. He pushed down on your back, releasing your braids so that you could fall forward. He raised your hips, moving you, manhandling you. 
Fuck, it felt so right. So good. So natural to be on your knees, ass up in the air, while he went to work. Terry grabbed your hips and moved you one last time. Then, he slammed inside in one rough thrust. You leaned forward, but he snatched you right back.
“Naw, naw. Where you going?” He moaned.
You moaned back, throwing it back but quickly losing the fight. This wasn’t some little man you let fuck you. This was a grown ass man. Secure in his businesses.
“Fuck, you feel good. So wet. I can barely stay inside of you,” he said. He cursed as he slammed into you like he truly wanted.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Terry! Terry! Sh-shh–oh that’s my spot,” you said. He brushed up against a deep spot inside of you. You thought it was a myth. You thought that shit didn’t exist. Terry found it without even trying.
“That’s your spot?” He asked. His deep voice made everything sound more filthy. More lewd. 
“That’s my spot!” You squealed. 
“That’s my spot now,” he said. No more words were spoken as he hit that spot over and over. 
Incoherent noises and sounds dribbled from your mouth. Perhaps some spit too. Your essence dripped out of you, flooding his dick as he didn’t let up. Didn’t stop. Kept hitting your spot like he was at target practice and he was showing out for the crowd. 
“Oh I’m gonna-I’m-gonna–”
“Cum on this dick. Let me feel it. Let it go,” he cooed to you.
There was a storm gathering inside of you. It almost felt like you had to pee. “Wait-” 
Terry moaned. Your cries turned to pleas. It both felt good and sort of hurt. “Uhngf-” You exploded, wailed to the high heavens as you came and squirted. “OH SHIT!”
Terry was saying something but you couldn’t hear over the sound of your yelling. Your pussy gripped onto him, locked him in, as you came and came. Terry smacked your ass and then thrust one last time before erupting with his own climax. He stuffed you completely.
Hot, thick pulses of cum throbbed inside of you. Your thighs shook. Your body twitched. Your eyes watered. You dissolved into a steaming pile of person as your eyes crossed with intense, whitehot pleasure.
Terry grunted and dropped forward, pushing you onto your sleeping bag. He kissed your damp pajama shirt. Both of you were huffing, out of breath. Thank god for your inhaler. Your lungs would be nonexistent right now. 
Terry softened by degrees, enough for him to pull out. You moaned as his cum leaked out. Like his dick was a plug keeping it all inside. 
“That’s never happened before,” you mumbled. Suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed. You ought to know what that felt like. Yet, it completely caught you off guard.
Terry maneuvered in the dark until he was able to pull you off of your sleeping bag and onto his where it was dry. He rubbed your arms and shoulders. Then, he grabbed your chin and pulled you into a searing kiss.
“I’m honored I drew it out of you,” he said. “Wait till I do it again.”
“Again! Not with that monster!” You yelled and tapped his chest. Terry’s rumbling laugh was everything you needed to hear. 
He pulled you closer, growling playfully and nipping at your skin. You giggled, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Again and again and again,” he said, kissing and nibbling at you with every word while you shrieked into the night with laughter.
The end.
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Who am I kidding? Of course there will be more! The Secret Terry Richmond Files
Taglist: @planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide
@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00
@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva
@avoidthings @lovedlover
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
Note
What's your favorite person of Bruce interacting with his kids?
Wayne Family Adventures Bruce has my whole heart.
But if you mean in fanfiction then it would be
Dick - "Please get down from there. you're not an adorable nine year old anymore. The chandelier is going to break!"
Jason - "Have you heard that my Jason is the top of his class at Gotham University? He's on the way to being valedictorian. Jason, stop shushing me, I'm right"
Tim- "I beg of you, do not become a supervillain at this slightest inconvenience. Tim, you just need to take a nap, have some water, and eat something"
Damian: "Every time I'm called into your school, it's because you hit someone, bite someone, or you caused the teachers to unionize. "
Cass: "Look, I know we both don't like Galas, but that doesn't mean you can vanish as soon as the doors open. Cass, sweetie, you need to make friends like me- I have friends! I have loads of friends! Of course, the Justice League counts. Why wouldn't they!? "
Steph: "I invite you into my home. I feed you, clothe you, and give you a roof over your head every other weekend when you're not at your mother's and you repay me by slapping my other guests with white gloves? No, the rich don't challenge each other to duels anymore!"
Duke: "Duke, son, stop organizing protests over parking fees and daycare prices. I know their unfailingly high, but this is not going to work. Why dont we just start our own daycare and- What do you mean Eat the Rich!? YOU'RE RICH NOW"
Bonuse
Jarro, Terry, Helena, Carrie, Harper, Cullen, Maps and unknown Wayne clone: I have done nothing wrong ever in my life
Bruce in tears of joy: I know this, and I love you
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beauspot · 1 year
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Good Omens Is a Big Deal
With everything going on I haven’t acknowledged how grateful I am for what Neil (and John) did this season. I always saw Good Omens as a romantic story and everyone involved seemed to be super supportive of that. To actually see a follow through on those themes was wonderful though. To see Aziraphale continue to look at Crowley like he’s the earth, the moon, and the stars. To see Crowley continue to save his angel not because he needs them to, but because they love him.
To see them have their dinners, and give the other access to their prized possessions. To see them dance. They love each other. They are in love with each other and it’s not implied or a throwaway line that can be edited out.
It’s the beating heart at the center of the story.
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And they weren’t meant to be. Neil himself will tell you when he and Terry wrote the book Aziraphale and Crowley were meant to be friends and that’s it. Over time their relationship evolved and where a lot of writers would simply ignore that and keep pushing forward Neil pivoted and said “you know what? let’s see where this goes.” The last time I can remember something like this happening was with Hannibal years ago, it’s so rare with queer pairings.
I know everyone was excited about the kiss and it is refreshing to see queer people actually get to kiss, it’s still not something that happens all the time, but that’s not what made them canonically queer to me. If they remained completely asexual and never kissed or showed interest in kissing one another I’d feel the same. While I always felt they were queer what sealed it for me were 3 things:
1. Nina and Maggie, a romantic pairing that parallel our angel and demon break down to Crowley how she and Aziraphale are partners (and it’s clear they don’t mean business partners, does Crowley look like he runs a bookshop?) but they never say what they’re really thinking. They go on to state how that’s all they needed, the obvious implication here being that Nina and Maggie shared their romantic feelings with one another and that Crowley and Aziraphale need to do the same. Upon hearing this Crowley takes that as a sign to confess his feelings.
2. Gabriel and Beelzebub, another pairing that parallels Crowley and Aziraphale who are also clearly in love with one another is something Crowley references while he is confessing his feelings. “If those two lovestruck idiots can go off together, so can we. Because I love you.”
3. Crowley and Aziraphale express plainly to each other that they need the other. Crowley says to Aziraphale he wants to stop pretending they aren’t a team, a group, a them.
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Aziraphale says verbatim “We can be together.” and “I need you.” He doesn’t say “We can work together” or “I need you to help me” or some other cop out that a lot of other shows or movies might come up with to continue to bait their fans, while having plausible deniability.
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They love each other and it’s not platonic.
To me, the kiss serves as a way to seal the deal for people who only understand queer love when it’s punching them in the face. That’s not to say queer people can’t like the kiss, it’s one of my favorite scenes in the show simply because of how heartbreaking it is, but they were a couple to me long before that. And to add onto that by making every other important pairing in the show queer as well? Nina and Maggie being happy sapphics who don’t die at the end. They’re not together, but the implication is that one day they will be. Two non-binary beings—Gabriel and Beelzebub—falling in love and choosing to be with one another forever. The angels and demons are all genderless and no one misgenders them and no one gives a FUCK.
That means so much to me and I genuinely cannot express how thankful I am that this show and this season were made. The only thing I can say is thank you for standing for something, because not everyone does.
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happy74827 · 27 days
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Something Wholesome
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[Logan Howlett & Teen!Fem!Reader]
Synopsis: In which you can’t help but feel the need to comfort the big grumpy ape.
WC: 2054
Category: Comfort, Slight Fluff, Reader is Vanessa’s Younger Sister, 4th Wall Breaks {TW: Wade Being… Well, Himself.}
Even being the worst Wolverine, I believe he still is 100% a girl dad, and I stand by that statement.
『••✎••』
"I thought you quit?"
Your voice startled him. He jumped and almost dropped the cigar he was holding between his teeth. Logan's eyes fell upon you, standing in the kitchen doorway with your arms folded.
"Jesus, kid. You're gonna give me a heart attack." He shook his head, taking the cigar out of his mouth and holding it between his fingers. It was still unlit. "How'd you get in here, anyway?"
You held up a ring of keys and shook it in the air, the jingling of metal echoing around the room. "It’s called having a brother-in-law who can pick locks." You tossed the keys on the counter and sat down across from him, resting your head in your hands. "Are you having another midlife crisis, Warrior Cat?"
"You're a brat, y’know that?" He rolled his eyes, taking the cigar and tossing it back into his jacket pocket. He ran a hand over his face, sighing.
You watched him closely. The bags under his eyes, the wrinkles, the slight hunch to his shoulders. He looked old… and not the usual, rugged, cool old. You frowned, leaning across the counter.
"You know, with Wade always around, I haven't had much time to check up on my favorite Canadian." You tilted your head to the side.
"Don't let Canuck hear you say that," he snorted. You stuck your tongue out at him, and he rolled his eyes. You could see the corners of his mouth twitching.
"Seriously, Slim Jim," The joke earned a slight scowl from him. You grinned, knowing it annoyed him when you called him that. "You look your age today. What's wrong?"
Logan stared at you, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head. He was probably wondering how much to tell you. If anything, at all.
You were used to it by now. His reluctance to talk about what was bothering him, his unwillingness to rely on anyone. It was his default, and you understood that, but after three months of sharing an apartment with blind meth-headed Trunchbull and Scary Terry, it was getting really tiring.
Finally, he sighed. "I've been thinkin'."
"Oh no." You feigned fear. He shot you a warning glare. One of those 'try me and see what happens' glares. "About what?"
He didn't answer right away. His eyes kept glancing toward the pocket his cigar was stashed in. He was struggling not to light it.
You were about to ask again, but before you could, he finally spoke up.
"I drove past the school a few days ago. It's still standing, y'know. It looks the same as it did 15 years ago." He laughed, though it sounded empty. "Abandoned, sure. But it's there."
Yeah, clearly, Disney spent all their budget on Princess remakes. A shame, really. The mansion was a good place to have movie nights.
"And it just...hit me, I guess. Everything's gone, kid." His voice grew soft, and the expression he was wearing broke your heart. "Everyone I knew, everyone I ever cared about, is dead. All I got left is this shitty apartment, a crap truck, and annoying roommates who drive me crazy."
"To be fair, I haven't had any accidents in three months," Wade called from the living room. Honestly, you weren’t even aware he was home. It was even more of a miracle that he heard Logan. "Saving the world has improved my driving skills. Now, I only hit pedestrians."
"Shut the fuck up, Wilson," Logan barked, his claws popping out of his knuckles with a snikt. "Or I'll shove those swords up your ass and make you eat 'em."
“Slow your roll, Caesar Salad; this is a PG story. Step off with the sexual violence, at least until you have the author's consent to do so." Wade turned the corner into the kitchen, a huge bag of Taco Bell in his hand. "Besides, Vanessa wouldn’t be too happy if she found out I was cheating on her with your foot long. You know how jealous she gets. One time, I tried to-"
"Wade, please," You groaned. He looked at you, then at Logan, and nodded.
"You're right, you're right. I should respect the rating." Wade waved his hand in the air and made his way out of the room, taking a bite out of one of his tacos. "Also, the fact that I’m technically a father figure in this fic, for reasons we can't disclose here. I’d rather not turn this wholesome story into some weird-ass daddy kink porno, even though I wouldn’t mind if it were."
He turned his attention to an empty wall momentarily, a smile creeping on his face. "I have a feeling you guys wouldn't either, judging by the comments on those other ones, and honestly, I don't blame you. My body is a temple, and it should be worshiped. Just ask all those Honda Odyssey rewrites. They'd know all about that, especially the ones that end with me getting-"
"WADE," You and Logan yelled at the same time, his claws still unsheathed. Logan looked ready to jump over the counter and murder him, and while it wasn’t uncommon for Wade to be shredded like string cheese, the two of you had had enough drama to last the rest of the year.
"Ugh, fine." He threw his hands up, his tacos spilling all over the floor. "But just for the record, I totally just stole the focus of this fic. Don't let Logan fool you. He's only the main character because this is his story, but the real star of the show is moi." He pointed a finger to his chest and winked at you. You couldn't help but laugh.
"Get the fuck outta here," Logan said, his claws sliding back into his knuckles. "I swear to god, Wilson, if you ruin my day any more than you already have, I'm gonna shove you into the wood chipper."
"You have a wood chipper?" Wade raised an eyebrow, grinning. "My, oh, my. Who would have thought the lumberjack would make a reappearance?"
"Five. Four. Three. Two. One," You muttered.
"Don't push me, asshole." Logan was growling, his claws once again threatening to slice into the other man.
A normal person would have run away by now, but not Wade. You had known him long enough to understand that he thrived off of conflict. He was the most chaotic son of a bitch you had ever met, and nothing excited him more than pissing people off.
But, again, this wasn’t his story. He was just hijacking it, and the author had had enough. So, without further ado, they did the most logical thing. They made Mary Puppins appear, and suddenly, she was in his arms, and he was out of the kitchen, leaving behind the Taco Bell, his jokes, and his dignity.
You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, trying not to laugh. You managed to contain it, but just barely.
You glanced over at Logan, and he still had a look on his face like he was drained and exhausted. Of course, now annoyance and anger were mixed into the cocktail.
With your sister’s boyfriend out of the picture, he slumped down against the counter, running a hand through his hair. Not much of it, given the current length, but enough that he could pull at it.
"I'm sorry," You said. You felt a pang of sympathy for him, and you couldn't imagine the shitstorm that must be going on in his mind. After all, he wasn't like the rest of you. He was a lot older, and his life had been filled with a lot more heartache and pain than you would ever experience. "It sucks."
He didn't say anything, so you continued.
"I mean, I don't know what it's like, obviously, but I can't imagine how it must feel to lose everything like that. Everyone." You paused, thinking about your family. Your own life hadn't exactly been a picnic, but the world hadn't come crashing down around you. Not yet, at least. "I can't imagine the kind of strength you must have to go on."
He grunted, which was pretty much the Logan version of a 'Thank you.'
"I just..." His voice was quiet. "I just want something permanent. That’s not this." He motioned to the room around you, and you couldn't help but notice the look in his eyes.
"I get it."
"I don't think you do, kid," he muttered, staring at his feet.
"Hey, give me a little credit. I might not be ancient like you, but I've seen some shit. Wade is infatuated with Nessie, so I go through that bullshit every other day." You shook your head. "The two of them can be a real handful together."
"No kiddin'." He snorted.
"I mean, sure. The world went to hell, but I think it's pretty safe to say that you deserve something good after all the crap that's happened." You shrugged, looking around the room. "This is that something."
He stared at you for a long moment, and you wondered if you said something wrong. Speaking to him was always a gamble. Sometimes, he would respond, and the two of you could actually hold a conversation. Other times, he would shut down and refuse to talk, or worse, yell at you.
It seemed like luck was on your side today.
"Maybe." His eyes moved to his hands, and his gaze was distant. "It's hard to think that when I'm stuck in this hell hole."
"It's not that bad."
"You’re just saying that so Wilson doesn’t think about moving back in with your sister." He rolled his eyes. "And it is. We all know that."
"Okay, fine, you're right. The apartment is shitty, and so is the neighborhood. The landlord is a bitch, and the neighbors are loud." You took a breath, leaning closer. "But, you have us."
"Oh, don't you start."
"And you've got your truck and your liquor and the crappy TV in the living room. I say, if that isn't permanent, I don't know what is."
Logan opened his mouth, but you held a finger up.
"You might not realize it, but you have a family here." You smiled at him, and he scoffed, turning his face away from you.
"I've had families before. Doesn't work out."
"Well, we're of the more persistent kind," you teased, reaching across the counter and punching him lightly on the shoulder. "We aren't going anywhere. Especially Wade. Man is a tick that refuses to let go."
"God, I wish he would."
"He won't. You're stuck with him. You’ll be the best man at his wedding, and we both know it." You grinned, and he rolled his eyes, though the corner of his lips quirked.
"Great," he muttered.
Secretly, you knew he enjoyed the banter with Wade. He acted annoyed and irritated, but deep down, you were certain he was amused. Might be frustrated, but definitely amused.
You were about to tell him that, but he spoke first.
"Thanks, kid." He reached across the counter and squeezed your arm. "You're a pain in the ass, but you're not so bad."
"Not so bad?" You snorted. "Wow. Is that how the Wolverine slid into the hearts of millions?"
He chuckled and shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. "You know what I mean, you brat."
You stood, walking around the counter. You threw your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. He didn’t hug back for reasons that you understood. Still, you wanted him to know that you were there for him and he could rely on you.
"You know," you started. "I think a lot of people would be surprised by the softy you are under all the grumpiness."
"Yeah, well, don't go around spreadin' that." He pushed you away gently, shaking his head. "I’m not a damn teddy bear, and I'll rip your throat out if you start tellin' people."
"I’m getting the Wade treatment? A threat of death if I speak a word?" You laughed, shaking your head. "I’m honored."
"Sometimes I wonder if he is your sibling instead of your sister."
"Nah, I’m too pretty to be a Wilson." You smirked. "If anything, I'm more related to my cousin."
"The one who tried to kill you last month?"
"That's the one."
"Then you definitely are a Wilson."
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kumkaniudaku · 2 days
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Stay A While (2)
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Summary: Terry and Treece are feeling the sparks again.
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Word Count: 3,659
Part: 2 of ??
Warnings: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.
Previous
Grocery shopping was Patrice's private pastime. She was the queen of her universe when she walked through aisles every Saturday morning. Every flash bargain and value-sized item bent to her will for a chance at making it to her humble abode and fulfilling its one purpose in life. Employees greeted her like royalty. Customers started conversations like old friends, always giving her the scoop on any sale they'd overheard in their neighborhood Facebook groups. She was happy. She was zen. She was in her element.
"Do you need this?" 
She was a woman dragging around a large man intent on breaking any modicum of concentration she had left.
Patrice stopped and looked over her shoulder at Terry, who held a bag of cotton candy grapes up in the air for her inspection. "No, TJ. Put it down." 
"Why? You like grapes." 
"Because we're getting grapes from the farmer's market. Now, put it back."
Her rebuke was sweet but stern. Having him as a way too familiar roommate was becoming easier as the days passed. But she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss the freedom to go for a walk, watch a movie on the couch, or even enjoy an intimate moment alone in her own house without a man looming somewhere in the very near background. 
He didn't allow her to travel alone, and she never had the energy to protest. 
"You don't have to talk to me like I'm a kid," he grumbled as he put the grapes back in their place.
"Then stop acting like one. I have a list. I know what I need." 
"I know what I need." He exaggerated his mimicry for maximum effect. 
"You see how that was childish?" 
"Whatever." 
Patrice ignored him in favor of browsing packages of beef for the best deal. If she didn't respond, maybe he would get the hint. And, for a few moments, he did. Terry took a break in conversation to scan the immediate area quietly. He noted each patron and their most important details before checking the exit and entry points at the front of the store. They weren't secure enough, but he could manage if the situation required evacuation.
A lack of action soon turned his attention back to Patrice, who still hadn't decided. He gave her a slow once over and smiled at how much focus she put into such a simple choice. Her brow remained furrowed in intense thought, transforming her into the ninth-grade Patrice he met during a chance encounter in the library. Truthfully, he didn't have much of an opinion either way. He just wanted to talk to her every second of the day, even if it meant being annoying. 
"Get that one." 
His sudden interruption startled Patrice out of her zone, adding a final straw to an already exhausted camel's back. Terry grinned in triumph as she closed her eyes for a calming breath. 
"Terry," she spoke, slow and measured to keep the peace. "Take the other half of this list and get out of my face. Don't come back until you find everything. I'll meet you at the register." 
She didn't give him much time to protest before she shoved a carefully torn half of paper into his chest and sent him on his way. He gave her a sarcastic salute, which she waved off without a second look. She needed a moment alone and didn't care if he came back with Fruity O's instead of Fruit Loops if that meant he would be out of her hair for more than 10 minutes. 
Terry found himself slowly meandering around the grocery store with a tiny basket in tow, exhausted by all the options on each aisle. If Patrice hadn't been so meticulous with her lists, he would've given up on the mission and gone back to home base with his tail tucked between his legs. 
After sourcing the perfect pint of Oreo ice cream as an apology for his behavior, Terry found himself drawn to the sound of laughter on the next aisle. Sure enough, Patrice was parked by the frozen vegetables and engaged with a man dressed in the store's colors with his eyes directed far too low to be looking at Patrice's face. 
Terry quickly reached her location, stopping behind Patrice to show her guest the full extent of his scowl. 
Patrice noticed how his once loose body language had gone stiff and sighed. She didn't need to investigate the problem. Only her human pitbull could make a man cower in fear like that. 
"Derrick, this is Terry. Terry, this is Derrick. He usually helps me get stuff to my car." 
"Ah, man. It's a good thing I'm here, right? We don't need you taking too many breaks from stocking. Mornin' rush can get crazy." 
"Terry," Patrice admonished with a harsh whisper and an elbow to his stomach. 
Terry remained steadfast, keeping his eyes on Derrick while taking one step closer. A taunting smile tugged on the right side of his mouth. He waited on any sign of fight from his unspoken adversary. 
Derrick stood in palpable discomfort, sizing up the outcomes if he decided to test his luck. Each mental scenario led him back to some instance of physical harm on his last shift of the week. He had plans for the weekend, none involving a trip to the emergency room.
Patrice stood between a rock and a hardheaded man, praying that the Lord would end her suffering.
"That's what I was about to say," Derrick answered before shifting his attention back to Patrice. "I think I oughta get going. See you around, Ms. Ellis?" 
"Same time next week." 
He nodded in half-hearted agreement and hurried out of dodge, with Terry keeping a watchful eye until he was safely around the corner. 
Patrice groaned with one hand, rubbing tight circles at her temple. "What in the hell was that about?" 
"He wouldn't even look you in the eye. If he can't look you in the eye when he's speaking, he can't protect you, and he doesn't respect you." 
"I'm not looking for his protection. I need this water loaded into my trunk every week when you aren't here!" 
"I'll never not be here. Problem solved."
His declaration was so sure, so matter of fact, that it left Patrice no room for retort. So she resorted to schoolyard antics. 
It was her turn to mock him with an exaggerated, deep voice. "Problem solved. Push the damn cart since you got so much energy." 
He obliged without protest and a proud, self-satisfied grin that Patrice couldn't see while she led the way to the register. An unexpected system error had halted all transactions, leaving them log jammed in a long line of restless customers. 
Together, they stood sharing light banter and running through weekend tasks, resembling any other couple making a store run to strangers observing them from the outside looking in. Former acquaintances, however, had no problem drawing attention to the pair from three spots back in line. 
"I know that ain't who I think it is." Both Patrice's and Terry's eyes darted up to find the source of the loud outburst, only to whisper 'fuck’ in tandem when they spotted Katrina Spivey waving her arms to grab their attention. "Hey, Terry Richmond!" 
Terry pretended to ignore being singled out by turning his back, earning a stifled laugh from Patrice. Katrina, not one to be deterred, used the moment to push past patrons in line until she reached her destination with a host of angry faces in her wake. 
"Well, if it ain't Mr. and Miss Homecoming in the flesh. You two finally stopped kidding around and got married?" 
"No," Terry answered without much explanation, his back still turned. Patrice reluctantly made up his slack. 
"What Terry meant to say was that we're not married. We're not together at all, actually. But he's here to visit me for a while." 
"What a blessing it is to have friends you can lean on when you need a helping hand."
"Amen."
An awkward tension settled into the conversation's lull, compounded by Terry's outright refusal to engage. Patrice was in deep water without a paddle and a co-captain who had already jumped ship.
Katrina wouldn't let the conversation end and take her newfound place in line. She continued to pry.
"Both of y'all look good! How long has it been since we last saw each other, huh? Gotta be since Terry's graduation send-off." 
Patrice feigned interest with a hollow smile. "Yeah, I think that was it. A looong time ago. All grown up now."
"And thank God for it! I remember how sad you looked all night because ol' Terry was moving away. Like a little crying puppy!" 
Katrina's laughter didn't quite reach Terry or Patrice, who bristled at mentioning one of the more contentious nights in their friendship. 
"Everybody's been a little young and dumb, right? Like when you and BJ got caught underneath the bleachers during state championships." 
Checkmate. A little reminder of her indiscretions had turned Katrina's condescending smile into a mean mug that could burn through anyone not equally as stubborn. 
Terry showed his approval with a light nudge against Patrice's arm. That was his girl. Sweet as pie but a tongue coated in venom when backed against the wall. He'd been on the receiving end on one too many occasions. It felt good to be on the winning side this time. 
Three seconds of a Western standoff had culminated in a gift sent via store intercom. 
"Apologies for the stoppage, folks. Our registers are back up and running. Thanks for your patience." 
Terry moved the cart to place items on the conveyor belt while Patrice waited for the conversation to resume.
Recovering from the sharp end of a verbal lashing, Katrina cleared her throat and grabbed hold of her cart in preparation to skip lines. 
"Well, I don't wanna hold y'all too much longer. If y'all don't think you're too good to mingle with us Francis High Hornets anymore, Corey's throwing a little Juneteenth gathering at his daddy's pool hall. This is my personal invite for the both of you."
"We were already invited. Maybe we'll make an appearance." 
"That'd be grand." 
"I bet it would."
Nice nasty smiles passed between the two foes until Katrina was off to harass some other unsuspecting patron. 
Patrice tried to let go of her frustration with an angry huff before turning to catch up with Terry, who was casually moving groceries from the bagging station to the shopping basket. He waited a moment before acknowledging the obvious. 
"You over it now, or do I need to iron a shirt for tonight?" 
"I'm over it," Patrice answered plainly. She calmly handed over payment for the day's groceries and smiled ever so sweetly to bid the cashier farewell. To an outsider, she'd returned to her zen state without much effort. Terry was no outsider and kept a cautious eye on her as they loaded bags into the trunk and got settled in the front seat of her SUV. 
"You sure you're good," he asked as he backed out of their parking space. 
"I'm sure, TJ," she answered with almost too much enthusiasm. Terry started a mental countdown for the other shoe to drop. "I'll iron the shirt. You need to shave." 
--------
The final verdict? A plain white T-shirt. 
An hour of searching, choosing, rejecting, and choosing again led them to a plain, crisp white tee. Patrice said it went better with her yellow wrap dress, which she chose because her girlfriends were all in dresses, and she wanted to match the occasion. It all sounded like made-up bullshit to Terry. Still, he accepted being treated like a Ken Doll because it meant that his Barbie would agree to a two-hour hard stop at the festivities. 
He'd already started his stopwatch when they pulled up on a busy street in front of an even busier hole in the wall.
The smell of fresh grease greeted them upon crossing the threshold from outside into Mister C's Bar and Lounge. Fried fish, French fries, and wings in any flavor you could ask for sat in the service window, waiting for their delivery to any one of the patrons packed from wall to cinderblock wall. Terry inhaled deeply and let his scowl drop for one second to fantasize about a bite of Corey Sr.'s signature catfish and fries basket. 
Next came the familiar mix of sweat and weed near the dancefloor as bodies intertwined to some GloRilla song neither of them recognized. Thick traffic in the center of the room paused Patrice on her path to the pool tables, locking her between Terry and a crowd that wouldn't budge. 
"Excuse me!" she shouted over a swell of crowd reaction to a new song. "I need to get by!" 
No response. Not even a look back as she used a hand to create space between her and a group of men debating nonsense. Before she could try again, Terry used one hand to push her forward and his voice to clear the way. 
"Yo, step out of the way. We need to get through." Direct and to the point. He left no room for misinterpretation, and his baritone's boom left no confusion about who was calling the shots. Patrice watched with her lips slightly parted in awe. 
The first reaction to his demand was the embers of confrontation. Each member of the group sized Terry up, noticing his heavy scowl and size in comparison to their own. Then, they realized that this wasn't a winning game. 
The flashiest of the group nodded, though disdain at the mere suggestion that he was in the way kept his mouth in a tight frown. "Yeah, you good, OG. My fault." 
Another light push propelled Patrice forward as Terry maintained with each man until they had passed. 
Once they were out of the mix and nearing their destination, he advised, "Stay close." Patrice nodded her compliance, shocking Terry into a slight smile in appreciation for her obedience. 
Sparks of electricity shot between them but had no time to turn into a total current before Corey called out to them. 
"Treece! Terry! We over here!" 
Surrounded by familiar faces from Francis Edward's Class of 2010, Corey welcomed them with open arms and his ever-present 100-watt smile. At a slight 5'6", 150 on his best day, he'd always been larger than his frame would suggest. Loud and flamboyant had always been the name of his game, earning him anything he set his sights on.
It didn't take long for the trio and Corey's wife, June, to fall into familiar habits and friendly jabs at one another as they took their seats in a makeshift VIP section by the pool tables. The Three-Headed Monster was their moniker in high school, and they moved like a military force. Terry was the enforcer, while Corey and Patrice served as judge and prosecutor. If you had an issue with one, you had an issue with all three. 
"Your security is lax. Who trained them?" Terry pointed out during a dead spot in conversation. 
Corey followed his eyeline to the two young men standing at the door and back. "My boy at the sheriff's office. What you see?" 
"They look soft. It wouldn't take much to overpower them and get in for some drama. You only have one exit. Somebody breeches this place, and you're on the hook for a tragedy. Plus, the one on the left is scared. He'll be the first to leave if things get hot. Watch him."
"Impressive," June remarked, smiling at Patrice, who subtly playfully waved her off.
"Hm." Corey took a long pull from his cigar, taking in the information before responding." You here for a minute, T? I got some connections over at Liberty if you looking to get back in the swing of things." 
"Contract?" 
"Whatever you need, man. You know I'm good for it."
Terry looked over at Patrice for some indication that she believed in Corey, and she returned with a subtle nod and encouraging smile. June looked between them and then at her husband before clearing her throat. 
"It looks like Kel and his boy are back on the pool table. You know he still owes you a game from when he cheated last week." 
"Hell yeah," Corey agreed as he turned in his seat to get a look at his enemy. "Aye, T, you trynna make $100 real quick?" 
"It's either that or you gotta come dance with me," Patrice challenged. "This rum and pineapple got me feeling a little loose." 
She wasn't lying. A taste of alcohol in her system was starting to make her want to explore parts of the Patrice she thought she left at North Carolina A&T. Every heart-rattling thump of Megan Thee Stallion's latest and greatest had her thinking about reminding everyone in the room that she could move with the best of them. 
Her little grind in her seat made Terry show teeth in a small grin before he stood to his full height and looked down at her. His eyes were hooded and dreamy from some combination of exhaustion and a contact high, reintroducing that spark from before.
"Don't go too far. I'll be back with your money in a little bit." 
Patrice's tongue felt too heavy to respond coherently past a punch-drunk nod. June watched her watch him make his way down the platform and into the crowd until both men were out of earshot. 
She whistled and shook her head. "That's a good-looking man, ain't he?" 
"Who? Corey? He alright. He's like a slightly more attractive Taye Diggs." 
"First off, ouch," June laughed. "Second, I was talking about Terry. He was cute in high school, but I'll be damned if that second puberty didn't take him to a whole 'nother level." 
"Don't tell him that. His head is big enough."
"You know you wrong for that." If the music weren't so loud, everyone in the building would've heard the pair guffawing over Patrice's petty insult. 
Once they contained themselves, June took a sip from her margarita and shifted in her seat to get closer to Patrice.
"He likes you still." Five plain words shook Patrice internally as she struggled to maintain a poker face. June continued. "I see the way he looks for your approval and damn near trips on himself to fulfill your every whim. You're all he talks about when he and Corey get on the phone." 
"They talk?" 
"From time to time. I think he needs a man's opinion sometimes, you know?" 
Patrice wrestled with the influx of information as June continued. 
"That man is mean as a snake. Always has been and always will be. But, you bring something out of him. Even if you can't always see it." 
"If that were the case, things would've been different for us back then." 
June shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe you're right where you're supposed to be. I know I can't make you do what you don't wanna do, but if what I say means anything, focus on today. Thirty-two-year-old Terry is so much more prepared to love you than eighteen-year-old Terry was." 
Punctuating her advice, June tapped Patrice's leg twice before taking a step away to refill their tray of food. 
Focus on today.
The words replayed in her mind repeatedly; even after their two hours were up, Terry had returned $100 richer, and they were back on the road to their quiet slice of the world. 
They rode together in content quiet, letting the Quiet Storm host talk while Terry tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. 
Randomly, he would glance in her direction, assuming she had lost the sleep battle to her old friend Bacardi. When he reached over to adjust the air vent on her side of the car, he was surprised when she mumbled a low "thank you." 
"My bad. I thought you were sleeping." 
"No. My head is swimming, though. Don't let me drink that much anymore." she laughed. 
He chuckled along with her but didn't agree to keep her from letting her hair down occasionally. In his eyes, seeing her relaxed and carefree was a gift to the world. 
The opening notes of Tevin Campbell's "I'm Ready" swirled around them, sounding like a secret message to Patrice as she focused on streetlights to keep the contents of her dinner inside her stomach. 
"Hey," she whispered before she could catch herself. Terry acknowledged her with a glance. "Do you think you're still scared?" 
"Of what?" 
"Of whatever kept you away for so long?"
He thought for a moment, wanting to make sure he was clear with his word. "No. I was never afraid of you. I was afraid of bringing you along for a ride I might not survive. That's not a threat anymore. So, no, I'm not scared anymore."
You know I'm ready
To love you
Forever 
Patrice reached across the center console until she reached Terry's hand to interlock her fingers with his. He gave her an appreciative squeeze without taking his eyes off the road. 
"I-I don't think I'm scared anymore either."
Her heart raced wildly behind her ribs, and Patrice was that if Terry pressed his wrist close enough to hers, he could feel her pulse accelerate. He didn't mind either way. Sweaty palms and trembling fingers would never be enough for him to let her go. Not again. 
As if she'd break if he moved too fast, Terry brought her hand to his lips slowly. One kiss. Another. Two more. And a final one for good measure. 
When he'd had his fill of her skin, he pressed the spot up against his cheek. He needed to feel and absorb her until they were one body. 
But, for tonight at least, this was enough.
TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse
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clearnachopirate · 4 months
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Terry and the batfam. Terry and the batfam. their dynamics have so much potential and i would LOVE to see it explored in any way at all
Terry and Dick: older brothers, trade stories of how they embarrass and get back at their younger brother(s), anger issue twins, "oh you were batman too??" "yeah, but its only bc one of my parents was murdered" "omg thats how i became robin no way"
Terry and Jason: the second most destructive duo, second only to terry and steph. not bc they fight or blow things up on patrol (thats tim and jasons thing) but bc anytime there a new gadget to try, terry will volunteer to use it, and jason will volunteer to 'spar' with terry to test it out. okay, maybe its bc they fight and blow stuff up, but its only ever in the batcave under supervision! "the tim from my dimension actually killed the joker" "no shit? did bruce stop me over there too?" "... about that--" sometimes they grab the others leather jacket by accident and both have given up on caring
Terry and Tim: terry "from the technological future" mcginnis and tim "designs loads of bat tech" drake talk shop, "my younger brother was made robin without my consent" club. tim listens to the works elcectro pop music ever and it just so happens to sound exactly like what they play at terrys favorite club. tim introduces him to (kon or bernard, take your pick) and they hit it off so well that they hang out without tim
Terry and Damian: ace the dog. terry invited damian to his AC island. both are bruce's bio kids and mamas boys. damian calling him "Terrance" and terry never recovering from it. terry knows damian from the future, kind of, and uses that knowledge to his advantage EVERY DAY
Terry and Duke: team "everyone thinks we're the normal one, they are wrong" they totally do movie marathons you cant tell me otherwise, their favorite thing to do is make bets abt the rest of the fam w cass. they never win against her. on any given day you can find them whispering about everyone else "duke, why the fuck were damian and tim staring each other down over breakfast" "hes mad dick said he can't poison him again" "what" "i know i thought they were over it by now"
Terry and Cass: cass sees him for the first time and sees that he rivals tim and dick in terms of being a mess and is determined to bond. terry hears about what she was trained for as a child and shrugs bc "i was supposed to be a second bruce, things change" cass will make him give her piggybacks when shes tired and terry has never dropped her
Terry and Stephanie: the most destructive duo. something happens to their braincells when they patrol together, buildings fall, bones break, civilians are crying, theres about ten minutes where everyone else thinks theyre both dead. they both are waiting at the cave for the others, terry is teching her how to make really shitty friendship bracelets (dana taught him, and stephanie is pretending she doesnt know how). they dont know why everyone else is so stressed "i texted you that we were fine, old man. steph and i just ran into black masks trafficing ring and took care of it-- why is dick crying?"
ALL of them have asked about the future before and the ONLY thing he ever reveals is out of context sayings and trends "yeah actually luigi and bowser have so much chemistry, well, i guess that movie isnt out yet huh" "???" (they think luigi and bowser are a cononical couple in the future and wonder where the world went so wrong) and (while interrogating smon) "watch out, you're not acting like the sigma you are, batman, try rizzing 'im up, then he'll talk."
him and bart meet (everyone tried to keep in from happening) and theyre from similar enough futures that when they talk, not a single person around them can follow it, they teach each other the different versions of different tik tok dances and terry goes back to the manor and teches them to steph, cass sees them do it once and has them memorized, duke thought it was funny, dick thought it was adorable (eventually they ALL know them, and it becomes an inside joke) tims prized possession is a video he got of damian doing the most dispassionate renegade the world has ever seen bc jon asked and he cant say no to him)
TL;DR:
terry mcginnis interacting w the other bat kids has a lot of potential for chaos and family bonding
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pombeom · 1 month
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Hello pombeom hope ur having a good day/night !!! Idk if ur requests are open i forgot to check BUT if its alr... may i request a domtutor!taehyun x bratsub!reader ? 🙊
Having an intense terry brainrot its so crazy RGHHH so scenario is, reader is really behind her like classes and almost failing everything and the teacher said she needs to catch up and take a tutor blh blah blah.. so, the teacher assigned tyun to be his tutor. Then, Everytime they have a study session, reader wont take it srs so tyun snapped out of it and just fucked the shit out of her 🫨
Feel free to ignore this if u get uncomfortable with this request !! Sorry if its not the best description, but the rest is up to you !! 🤧
Also, do you have a taglist? If yes, i would love to be tagged in every txt fics, thoughts OR ANYTHING ABT TXT😶‍🌫️
tutoring trouble | taehyun fic (nsfw)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
nsfw, mdni!
pairings: meandomtutor!taehyun x brattysub!reader
warnings: spanking, namecalling (slut, brat), dirty talk, blowjob, doggy, manhandling, creampie, unprotected sex, hair pulling, choking, mean mean taehyun, nippleplay, marking, hickeys, zero aftercare, dacryphilia (reader cries), lmk if i forgot anything
a/n: thank you so much for being my first request!! this was so much fun to write and i hope this cures your brain rot 😭 don’t have a taglist atm but when i do (hopefully soon 🤞(just need to figure out how it works)) i’ll definitely add you :)
requests open
“Can I have a word please?”
At the end of the seminar, your professor calls upon you as you and your friends begin to leave. 
“I’ll catch up with you guys later.” 
“Right. I just wanted to talk to you about your recent grades. For someone who used to perform well in every assignment, your performance has been slipping to well below average. Even on a test where everyone managed to score above 60% you were the only one with a mark of 48% which tells me that you might need some additional support. A senior student has volunteered to help you out so from now on you shall receive tutoring session from him every week. His name is Kang Taehyun and he’s a very capable student who I believe can give you all the support you need,” your professor waffled on as you simply stare into her face absorbing all the information she’s blurting at you. 
“Is that all?” 
“Yes that’s all. I’ve scheduled your first meeting for tomorrow afternoon. I checked both your timetables to make sure you were both available. You’ll be meeting in the library at 1pm. And remember, if I hear that you haven’t showed up, then I’ll have to deal out more severe consequences.” 
With even more information being darted in your direction, your mind wanders to the plans you made with your friends for lunch tomorrow. Guess that’ll have to be cancelled then. 
You let out a sigh of frustration as you thank your professor and walk out the room with a grimacing look. How dare she ruin your plans like that. Just imagining the thought of a tutor sounded like hell. This Kang Taehyun also seemed like a right old nerd. It’ll be surprising if he lasts more than a day with you. 
You were wrong. He lasted more than a day. In fact he lasted nearly 3 weeks of your bratty attitude which just refused to listen to anything he says, interrupting him mid-sentence to ask irritating questions or dozing off as he’s explaining a key concept. Even through the trials and tribulations, he still put up with you but you could tell that he each week he was getting closer to breaking point. He just needed one last push. 
Instead of the library, you asked if you could meet up at your house instead, using the fact that you were recovering from being sick last week as an excuse. Phase 1, complete. 
Taehyun arrives promptly at 1pm, tapping a rhythmic knock on your door. As if you were waiting for him, you opened the door within seconds revealing to you his casual outfit of a baggy t-shirt that he paired with dark wash straight leg jeans and a silver chain that hung comfortably around his neck. You may not have liked him much, but you appreciated his sense of style. Laid back but put together. 
Inviting him in, you direct him towards your room, telling him that that was where you worked best. You bought over an extra chair and placed it beside your own desk chair and you both pulled out your work materials. 
Without further ado, Taehyun begins the session, paying no attention to the change of setting that you hoped would throw him off. You were ready to move into phase 2 of your plan. 
Taehyun, being seated at your right proved to be advantageous as it allowed you the opportunity to make physical contact as you both move your hands at the same time, “accidentally” bumping your hand into his. 
You were also wearing your oversized pyjama shirt with a pair of black shorts underneath, your shirt unbuttoned quite low. Without drawing too much attention to yourself, you slowly push one side of the shirt down your shoulder, hinting at your black lace bra. You try and meet his gaze but his eyes were avoidant, only paying attention to his notes and whether or not you were writing them down too, which of course you weren’t.
“Can you please focus. We’ve got a lot to cover,” his eyes finally look up to meet yours giving you a stern glare. 
“I am focusing, aren’t I?” Your puppy eyes never worked on him but you were hoping that them playing with your bra strap might distract him. 
“Stop fiddling with your bra strap and pay attention,” his voice was commanding in a way that even you felt threatened into obedience. You also weren’t expecting him to be so direct. 
You pick up you pen and start copying down the notes as he explains them suddenly getting another idea. 
“Taehyun, I’m thirsty. I’m gonna get some water, do you want some too?” 
“Yeah, sure, get me a glass.”
You filled up two glasses of water in the kitchen, holding one in each hand and as you walk past him, you accidentally spill water on his shirt, leaving him soaking wet. 
“Fuck! What the hell?!” he yells, standing up in shock. 
“Oh no! I’m so sorry! It was an accident. Let me get you a towel.” 
You giggled as you walk away towards the storage cabinet grabbing a new towel. But when you return, you see a sight you weren’t prepared for. 
Taehyun had removed his shirt leaving him flashing his hard abs and built muscles. Instead of turning around or covering your eyes, you stand there gawking at his physique. So this is what he’d been hiding under his baggy T-shirt the entire time. You move closer to him, handing him the towel to dry off. 
He wipes his body dry and passes you the towel back glaring into your eyes. 
“This is what you wanted to happen right? When you invited me to your house, I knew something was up. Fucking brat can’t just sit quiet and focus on her lesson.” He inches closer to your body, pushing you against the desk as he corners you. His face was now mere millimetres away, leaving you gasping. 
“Go on. Tell me what you want,” he instructs, his voice a little raspy, “What? Now you suddenly can’t speak? Guess I’ll just have to punish you then.” 
His hands grab onto your waist pushing you up to sit on your desk, moving away any pens and paper in the way. His fingers tuck your hair behind your ear as he continues to move them along your cheeks and jawline leaving lingering touches on your skin, sparking like jolts of electricity. As his hands reach your neck, his fingers wrap themselves around it, his grip slowly tightening. 
Your lips part as you pant for air when his other hand swipes a touch across your bottom lip before he inserts his thumb into your mouth, pushing it in and out. He removes his finger from your mouth letting out a pop sound. 
Before long, his hands move down your shirt, undoing any remaining buttons, stripping you of your shorts as you’re left almost naked, feeling bare in front of his gaze. 
He’s skilful in removing your bra, cupping both breasts as he squeezes them into his face, breathing in your scent. 
“Such perfect tits. You were desperate to show them to me, weren’t you?” 
“Taehyun, suck on them. Please,” your voice trembled as you begged him. 
“Such a desperate slut aren’t you. Unlucky for you, brats don’t get what they want.” 
He’s strips you of your underwear and his own, leaving you both naked when suddenly he picks you up, flinging you over his shoulder, spanking your ass as he moves towards your bed. 
“Such,” spank,” A,” spank,” Brat,” spank. 
He drops you onto the mattress, and climbs over you. He moves up to your neck, sucking your sensitive skin rabidly, reddish purple marks appearing instantly. He moves along you collarbone sucking harshly while pinching your nipples, earning him a sharp moan. 
“Get on your knees.” He pulls you up by your hair and pushes you onto the floor as you become on eye level with his veiny cock. Your reactions to his hardness were instinctive: hands wrapping around the base of his shaft as your tongue swirls around the pink tip. 
“You don’t get to tease me ok, brat? Now suck my dick.” 
You feel your hair being pulled into a makeshift ponytail as he rams your throat up and down his cock, almost gagging you. 
You feel him twitch on your mouth and before he could cum he pulls out, taking away his own orgasm. 
Pulling you back up onto the bed, he places you on all fours as he grabs your waist firmly as his cock teases your entrance. Sliding in between the lips of your pussy, your wetness leaks out onto his dick, lubing it even more than your saliva. 
“Taehyun please just fuck me!” you whine, almost crying at the pain of his teasing. You needed him in you. 
Without warning he slams his cock into your core, hitting your cervix in one go. He continues to pound into you as he pushes your face into a pillow, muffling your moans as your tears leak onto the cotton. His dick is ruts against your gummy walls as he grunts with each swift push. You clench around his cock, feeling the veins as your wetness oozes out, dripping down your leg. 
“God your pussy is so good. Look at you, taking my cock so well, aren’t you? Only brats get fucked like this. Brats who don’t listen or pay attention. Brats who are so desperate. Brats who like to tease their tutor.” 
He’s now slamming into you at an unimaginable rate, your cries being heard even through the fabric of your pillow. The familiar sensation builds in your stomach. 
“Taehyun I’m gonna cum!” 
“Hold it. Only cum when I tell you to.” 
He’s ruthless with his speed, punishing your pussy over and over. His actions took over your entire body as your vision goes blurry even with your eyes closed and your legs shaking despite his support in holding you up.
“You can cum now.” 
You didn’t wait a second longer before your orgasmic wave comes crashing down sending ripples across your entire body when you collapse completely. At the same time, Taehyun cums inside your throbbing pussy, which remains pulsing even after he’s removed himself, pushing out the mixture of both your cum down your already wet leg. 
You’re left gasping for air once again, trying to catch tour breath after the intense sex. Taehyun leaves you alone on your bed to go put on his boxers and jeans, sweat dripping down his sculpted abs. 
“Oi, where’s my tshirt?” 
“It’s there.” You point vaguely behind you as you were unable to lift your head or body to help him out. 
He eventually finds it on the the radiator and at this point it had finished drying so he slips it back on and begins packing up his notes and stationery. 
“Same time next week. And maybe next time you’ll actually pay attention.” 
He waltz out, hearing the main door slam whilst you still lay in bed worn out. 
You don’t think you could ever focus in his tutoring classes again. Not when you knew how his cock felt inside you. His punishment failed. It only made you crave more. 
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empressgeekt · 1 year
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batfam meets the justice league fic idea, where Nightwing convinces the JL that the batfam is the last of the race Gotham bat demons...
made on moble so sorry in advance.
Okay so it starts with Batwoman and Nightwing hanging around the watchtower. Eventually someone (most likely either hal or barry) asks how they are related to batman. Batwoman claims to be his sister, and Nightwing obviously says he's his son. When the question of who Nightwing's mom comes up (along with some of the league thinking that Nightwing was an accident, cause they can't see bats settling down), Batwoman simply says, "he doesn't have one."
The convo sudden shifts to the topic of the 'history' and 'biology' of the bat demon race. How they were nearly eradicated by a war with the Amazon's, and Atlantis, only a few really surviving and finding refuge in the caves below Gotham. Hwo they used ancient forgotten magic to remove all memories of this 'war' to keep themselves save. And finally how they reproduce asexually, by reviving the souls of children who were wrongfully killed. Taking the weak dead spirit and carrying them in their own soul until it could put itself back together.
When asked if this was how Nightwing was born, they confirm it.
BW: oh yeah. Actually 'wing was kind of a surprise you could say.
Hal: surprise?
N: YEP! You see I was kinda of dad's first so he really didn't know what he was doing...
BW: and it ended with bossy big brother screaming his head off in an emergence of a batling that he didn't know he was carrying.
Barry: screaming his head off?
N: oh...well the process of soul splitting, emergence, rebirth, whatever you want to call it, includes the host's soul breaking down enough to allow the younger newly revived soul to detach. It's very painful, So I've heard.
BW; so you've heard? Kid please I know you've heard your father when it came to your siblings rebirth.
Needless to say everyone (especially hal and barry), look at Batman the same way for the next few days.
when Bruce confronts his son and cousin, he honestly can't say he hates the idea. UT would throw off any suspicions sound hus true identity. Not mention give him a new way to mess with hal.
The rest of the batfam (let's say standard webcomic cast, with Terry and Matty McGinnis [time traveled/dimensionhopped], along with flashpoint!batman, because they deserve to be in the safe place rhay is the batfam too, for funies), also find this cover story hilarious, and spend all of dinner adding to the bat-demon mythos.
Thomas would've been the last surviving member of the demon army, who retreated and sought refuge in Gotham, along with his human turned immortal companion of Alfred. Bruce, Kate, and Luke (batwing) would his 'children'.
The normal children would all still be Bruce's. Inculding spoiler, as why she claims she isn't Bruce's daughter, she isn't passing up the chance to mess with the JL.
Eventually the idea gets suggested that they should trick the JL into believing that Batman is pregnant with a new batling. The prank idea slowly snowballs from there and Bruce is unable to stop it. So he agrees to join in, ans rhe prank planninf begins. Matty immediately volunteers to be the new batling, because he technically the youngest and doesn't have a vigilante alter ego yet.
The prank starts out slow. Batwoman and Nightwing increase their visits to the watchtower? Specially when batman is there and they are usually in the same room as him.
Bruce pretends to be more tired often, even pretending to take a nap, where the JL can find him. He also fakes head aches.
Eventually Clark asks him if he's alright. And Nightwing responds with
N: of course he's not. He's working too hard.
B: Nightwing...
N: there's a reason me and aunt BW following you, and it's so you don't over do it!
B: nightwing...
N: even grandfather is worried.
B: Nightwing. I have been through this 8 times already. I think I know my limits. Besides your grandfather has always been worried over the thought of a new spawn in the house.
Clark: !!!!
Once more things around batman grow awkward for the next few weeks.
The end of the fic would be the JL visiting the "bat domain" to meet Matty dressed up in a mask and brightly colored suit. And finding out about the literal small army that batman's been building. Not to mention cameo of Thomas in his bat suit scaring the living crap out if the justice league, and having the time of his life.
Edit: Alright its official, this is going to be my holiday special for this year. So, around Christmas time I'll post a link so yall can read this.
Edit 2: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51963331/chapters/131402920
Happy holidays! hears and early present!
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Pt VIII good omens a spoiler-free trailer
*walks into church, ignoring the gasps of the congregation* *holds mic to a terrified gentleman's face*
Have you ever wondered, what if the flaming sword at the Garden of Eden was insufferably in love with the Serpent?
*doesn't wait for response, shoves mic in shaking lady's face*
What if I told you, your bible studies are incomplete, because they are missing the most important story of all?
*cut to me in front of a white screen, walking seductively toward camera in a suit*
Worry not, for your prayers have been answered. Presenting, Good Omens, a kind-of biblically accurate story by Sir Terry Pratchett and Tumblr's own @neil-gaiman, now a TV show and queerer than ever. All you AO3 slow-burn hoes, we see you. You asked for it, you got it. Childhood friends is so last millennium, we give you instead, six thousand years of mutual pining.
*hard cut to David Tennant, whom I have stuck to a chair with Elmer's glitter glue* *he struggles, in vain*
Starring David Tennant and his signature slutty walk as Crowley, now in a ginger Barbie edition that comes with demonic eyes, every hairstyle and gender you could ever dream of, and instant outfit changes. It really is a miracle!
*camera swivels to focus on Michael Sheen, who is bound in blankets and looking deeply concerned*
Starring Michael Sheen the fae shapeshifter as Aziraphale, the sweetest, most cherubic murderous bitchy angel you've ever seen. Special features include automatic heart-eyes the moment he is faced with Crowley, a charming disregard for casual massacre in the name of God, and the instant outfit changes. Watch him melt your heart before breaking it! Bonus tip: try giving him sushi!
*cut back to the white screen, I am now sitting uncomfortably close to the camera*
Follow Aziraphale and Crowley as they alternatively try to follow and thwart God's ineffable plan, managing to spectacularly fail at both tasks with a consistency that amazes as it befuddles. Featuring alcohol, a bookstore, and metaphorical and literal fire as things get a little... heated in the Bible fandom.
*crossfade to Soho, I walk along the street as the camera follows me*
If that isn't enough to convince you, presenting also, idiot lesbians giving an ancient demon love advice, sexy horsepersons of the apocalypse, an unofficial wedding combined with burning Nazis alive where the most important part is the handing over of a suitcase, and the sexiest MILF witch Agnes Nutter, a literal bombshell.
*cut to disturbing close up of Neil Gaiman's face* *he tries to step away, and is met with my camerapersons*
Watch Neil Gaiman give you hope and shatter it again repeatedly, in a show where the literal apocalypse is only the background to a forbidden idiots who are lovers-to-lovers who are idiots story that is older than Time itself. Armageddon takes a backseat as Crowley serves gender, and if you thought the Antichrist was adorable, wait till you see him in Good Omens, where his evil powers are directed towards being the cutest kid he can possibly be.
*cut back to white screen, I smile ominously while twirling a human bone*
Good Omens, at your nearest Amazon Prime, with free UST, fluff, Queen, and plenty of tears. Don't miss it!
*text rapidly rolls across screen*
[Imagery has been used for representative purposes. No David Tennant, Michael Sheen or Neil Gaiman was harmed in the process of creating this advertisement. Good Omens will have expected side-effects, including unprompted sobbing, a Pavlovian reaction to bandstands, nightingales, holy water and 'the final fifteen', heartache for the foreseeable future, and intense lust for Crowley's elusive gender. Asmi is not responsible for any consequences resulting from the advertised product. Some features have been excluded from the advertisement due to space and time constraints.]
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