wormwrites - Tumblr blog

wormwrites · 25 days ago

Text

This is Kali’s fault. @killakalx

Minors Dni- includes. Slight dirty talk? But? Loving?, marking, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, cumming inside, kind of sappy pillow talk, dom!Clark, fem!reader

Clark Kent is strong enough to pick you up and use you like a fleshlight. He doesn’t, usually, because that’s mean and he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you or anything.

But there are rare occasions, when he’s had enough of being Superman, when he’s had enough of being Clark Kent, where he lets himself tap into those desires to just… use you.

He’s got you pinned to the wall of his apartment, feet not even scraping the floor, his tongue so deep in your mouth you swear he’s trying to make you choke on it. (Doesn’t help that his is a little bit longer than a normal person’s, and his sharp little fangs don’t help much either.) He’s holding you up by your waist, his grip bruising, and when he pulls back he’s out of breath.

“I need you,” he whispers, and it’s the last semblance of a boyfriend who’s gentle or careful with you that you’re going to get for a few hours. His glasses are askew, his hair is ruffled, his shirt has already been halfway unbuttoned thanks to your wandering hands. “Please.”

When you say “okay”, he’s on you faster than he’s ever been on anything in his life. Ripping your shirt down the middle- your bra, too- he’s setting you down on unsteady feet before basically attacking your chest, biting and sucking his way down your body, coming to where the hem of your pants hugs your waist before he stops. He looks up at you, blue eyes nearly eclipsed by his pupil, blown wide with arousal.

They flash gold when they catch the light.

Clark looks like a proper predator, and suddenly you understand why villains get all prickly when they’re dealing with Superman. He’s scary. Your sweet, loving boyfriend, who has never once even raised his voice at you, is downright terrifying.

“I can smell you,” he chokes out, and his voice is dark. Your pants are gone before you can even register his movements, and your underwear are also the unfortunate victims of his super strength. “Can hear your heart beating,” he breathes, a little laugh escaping him as he presses his mouth against the soft skin of your stomach. “Your blood, I can… fuck…”

Aaaaand you’re suddenly on the couch, Clark is between your legs, and he’s eating you out like he’s never had a meal before in his life. Usually he’s careful, controlled, wants to make you feel good before anything else. But right now, he’s just hungry, and he’s getting more enjoyment out of your desperate attempts to squirm away from him and the noises you’re making more than anything else. He makes you cum three times while he mutters about how you’re ‘such a good girl’, and then he’s cradling your face in his hands, cooing at you while you come back down to earth.

“You prepped? Y’ready to take my dick, sweet girl?”

(His southern accent is thick; he looks and sounds drunk on you, chin covered in your slick, big blue eyes meeting yours.)

He doesn’t let you answer, mostly because he knows you can’t. And he knows his dick is huge- he goes slow, usually, but tonight he just needs to feel you cum on his cock otherwise he’ll go insane, he’ll go crazy.

Clark feels properly awful about how you’re already squirming and whining when he presses his tip at your entrance. He wants to do something, but then the tip slips in, and he’s gone.

He pushes in the rest of the way with a wet shlck, curling his body over yours so he can see the way your pussy looks speared on his cock. “Fuck.” He rumbles. “Look at you, taking me so deep. God, it’s like you’re made for it, made for me…”

He thrusts into you, keeping his forearm above your head to brace himself- when your hands curl around his bicep and squeeze all desperate, he blacks out for a second. When he wakes up again, you’re squealing, and he’s rubbing circles against your clit with his free hand, and you have some bite marks that are stark against your skin.

“Cum for me.” He begs, and his voice doesn’t even sound like his own. “Cum for me right now, I know y’can do it, I want you t’do it, you’ve been so good f’me, so fucking good, the best, taking me so deep and hard like it’s what you were made for- please give it t’me, darlin, please.”

When you sob all high and pretty and spasm on his dick, he feels like he’s seeing stars. Actually, it’s better than stars, because he’s just looking at you, at the tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, at the red marks you leave when you dig your nails into his skin. Clark sees everything.

And then he cums, pushing deep inside, a choked gasp of your name dropping from his lips. He screws his eyes shut, his nose wrinkling in that cute way it does when he’s thinking. He moans low and just for you.

… when he comes back to his senses, you’re softly squirming under his weight, grumbling about how heavy he is. He pulls back- and out- watching with amazement as a bit of cum starts to trickle out. He barely resists the urge to follow it with his tongue, because he thinks you’d kill him.

“My sweet girl.” He croons instead, pressing soft kisses to your face. “So good, so pretty. Took me so amazingly.”

“You almost killed me,” you complain, pouting at him. “Women on this planet are not built to handle seven orgasms, Clark.”

He tilts his head. “I only remember four.” He says, raising an eyebrow. “… but I can make it seven, if you want. Really test the limits of the human body, y’know-”

You hit him in the side of the head with a throw pillow. He relents.

3K notes · View notes

wormwrites · 1 month ago

Text

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 39

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, NSFW, MDNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: minor SA mentioned

wc: 2.17k

Chapter Selection

The words Gotham Academy: Front Office lit up my phone screen, and I scrambled to grab it. Professor Newman was droning on, reviewing the material on the upcoming quiz. He cast a disapproving glance my way as I opened the door, slipping out into the hall.

"Hello?"

"Oh! Sorry, I may have the wrong number. I was trying to call Bruce Wayne?"

"Is this about Damian? I'm the new primary contact. Bruce signed the paperwork a while ago?"

I provided my name, and I heard some clicking and typing before the woman spoke again; "oh, yes, I see. My mistake. Well then, we need you to come down to the school, Miss."

"Is Damian ok?"

"He's fine, but he needs to be picked up."

"Why?"

"The principal will discuss it with you when you get here to take him home." Her tone was carefully neutral, and I suspected that she knew more than she was telling.

"… Alright. I'm in the middle of a class, is he ok to wait or do I need to leave now?"

"… We'd really prefer if you came now, if you're able." Her voice sounded tense.

"Ok. I'll be there as soon as I can."

I hung up and slipped back into the classroom, going to my desk and gathering my things. Professor Newman cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow at me; "is my class interrupting something for you, young lady?"

I straightened my back, looking up at him in surprise. I had tried not to disrupt the class too much, but he was acting like I took the call in the room. "… I'm sorry?"

"If you do not wish to be here, perhaps you would be so kind as to open a space for a more dedicated student?"

I felt my cheeks warm as the class stared at me. After a breath, I cleared my throat; "… I am entirely dedicated, sir. To my family. My brother needs to be picked up unexpectedly, so I am going. As much as I respect you and this class, nothing you have to teach me will ever be more important to me than being there for my kid. If that is a problem for you, we can discuss that at another time. For now, these people have paid good money to learn from you, and I have to go. … Good day."

I finished slipping my laptop into my bag, intentionally not looking at the professor's reddening face, and slung it over my shoulder. I quietly slipped out of class, making sure the door didn't slam, and made my way to my bike. Adrenaline was already pumping through my system; I could hardly believe I'd done that. My hands were trembling as I texted Jason.

I smiled softly, taking a deep breath as I got my things secured on my bike. It roared to life, and I took off. Mid morning traffic wasn't the worst, but it still took a solid 25 minutes to get to the school. Jason was parked out front, waiting on his bike, and I pulled into the spot with him.

Me: Just got called to pick up Damian, not sure what's going on. Will text you if he's coming over.

10:45am

Jason: aren't you supposed to be in class? I can go instead if you want.

10:46am

Me: I told Damian that if he ever needed me, I would come. It's time for me to prove it.

10:48am

Me: Plus, I absolutely cannot go back into that classroom after what I just said to the teacher …

10:49am

Jason: Oh god … ok. I'll meet you at the school.

10:50am

Me: You don't have to do that, hun

10:51am

Jason: I'm gonna anyway. See you in 20 ♥️

10:54am

"Hey there handsome~" I flicked my visor up, grinning at the dusting of pink that started spreading across his cheeks.

He chuckled; "hey baby girl~ Any idea what this is about?"

I tugged my helmet off and he immediately leaned in to kiss my cheek. "They wouldn't say, but I did get out of them that he's 'fine', but they would 'really prefer I pick him up now'. And the secretary sounded … tense."

He nodded, frowning a bit. "Hm …"

We headed inside, immediately engulfed by chaos. Students were heading to lunch, so the halls were swarmed. In the office, a woman I vaguely recognized from the PTA was shouting at the principal. Damian and a girl were seated off to the side, she was curled in on herself, sniffling, and he was sitting between her and the shouting woman, glaring at the boy across the room. If looks could kill, that boy would be dead on the floor, but instead he was lounging in his seat, holding an ice pack to the bruise forming around his eye, and glaring at them. The secretary looked up as we approached, anxiety plastered across her face.

I signed the clipboard on the desk; "we're here for Damian?"

His eyes shot up and he stood. "You … left your classes?"

I smiled softly to him. "They said you needed me, so I'm here."

The angry woman turned on us, growling; "are you the parents of this little delinquent?"

Damian clenched his jaw, subtly stepping away from her. Jason's eyes narrowed as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close.

"He's my brother. And he's no delinquent." I almost shivered at his icy tone.

"Please, let's move this into my office." Principal Cole weakly gestured for us all to head into the room.

Once we were inside, Mr. Cole passed a paper toward us. "Now, if you could just sign here, we'll get you all out of here quickly. Damian may return to school in two days."

"Excuse me?" I frowned, reading the paper. "This says he's being suspended?"

"That is correct, yes. Gotham Academy has a strict no violence rule, and Damian has broken that rule."

"That doesn't sound like Damian." I turned to him. "What happened, sweetheart?"

He opened his mouth to answer me, but Mr. Cole cut him off; "Damian attacked-"

"Excuse me, do you think I was calling you 'sweetheart'?" I raised an eyebrow at him, who promptly started sputtering.

Damian frowned up at me. "Felix was assaulting Bianca. She told him to stop what he was doing, and he laughed at her. I had to do something."

The woman, I guessed Felix's mother, began screeching; "my baby did no such thing!"

Damian cleared his throat, speaking over her; "since he refused to listen to her words, I took it upon myself to make sure he understood the consequences of his actions."

I smiled softly, nodding once toward the girl, "this is Bianca, then?"

He nodded, and I approached her, crouching down in front of her. "Hello Bianca. Have they called an adult for you yet?"

She nodded. "Mum's at work…"

I frowned a bit and nodded. "I see. If you're not comfortable, we can wait until someone gets here?"

She shook her head tiredly. "It's fine…"

"Alright. If you change your mind, you just say the word. In the meantime, would you mind telling us what happened?"

Mr. Cole piped up; "excuse me, I am leading this meeting, and we have already established-"

"Felix was snapping my bra strap again. I told him to stop, but he kept doing it anyway. And then … Damian punched him…" she mumbled the last part, wincing slightly.

"So she admits it! That thug hit my son!" Felix's mother shouted; "I want him expelled!"

I frowned at the woman. "… Did you conveniently lose your hearing until that part, or do you not care that your son sexually assaulted someone?"

She and the principal gaped at me. Mr. Cole stuttered out; "I wouldn't say that..."

"I would." A deep voice spoke up from the doorway. "And so would my lawyer, who I'm sure would be happy to represent Miss Bianca, should she wish to take this to court."

Mr. Cole jumped out of his seat, an anxious look on his face, and Jay stepped aside to let Bruce in.

"Mr. Wayne! We didn't realize you would be coming as well. M- my secretary should have told you-"

"She did. But I want to hear this as well. Am I to understand you intend to suspend my son for defending this young lady?"

"W- well, sir, it's just … we have a policy for these situations…" Mr. Cole stepped back slightly, collapsing into his chair.

"… Has anyone called the police yet?" All eyes were suddenly on me.

"For … what, exactly?" Mr. Cole shifted nervously.

"This boy sexually assaulted someone. Surely you've informed the police? … Are you seriously telling me you have allowed this girl to sit in the same room as her attacker for who knows how long without a parent or the police present?" I frowned deeply.

Bianca shifted, sitting up more, while Mr. Cole shrunk further into his seat. "Ah …. I … suppose that might have been … an oversight…"

Bruce frowned. "… Why don't you go do that, Mr. Cole. And I don't think there will be any need for that suspension paperwork either. Do you?"

"If you're calling the police about a bit of harmless teasing, I'll call them about your boy attacking my Felix!" The woman growled.

"Please, he didn't even break a bone." Jason rolled his eyes, patting Damian on the back approvingly.

"And do you really think they'll care much, when they hear the whole story?" I frowned.

"… Mrs. Stone, Felix, why don't you two come with me?" Mr. Cole led them out of the office, and I turned to Bianca.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Mostly just … tired."

I nodded. "That makes sense. Do you know how long to expect your mom to be?"

"She said she'd be here a bit after noon…" We glanced at the clock. Eleven forty-five.

"Soon then, good."

We sat in silence for a few minutes before Mr. Cole returned, awkwardly clearing his throat. "… Ah, I've called the police, they're on their way. … The next period is about to start, so why don't our young people get to class, and we'll call for them when they're needed?"

Bianca looked between us and Mr. Cole, distraught by the idea.

"Surely you don't expect her to sit in class after all this?" Damian looked incredulously up at him.

"No, no reasonable person would." I rolled my eyes.

"I think we're fine here, Mr. Cole. Thank you." Bruce stared him down.

"Ah … y- yes, I suppose you can use my office until … well, I'll … go see about … yes." He awkwardly left us to the room.

Jason smirked, muttering something in a language I didn't know, and Damian replied quietly. I guessed pretty quickly that they were speaking Arabic, but I didn't recognize any of the words. From their expressions, I assumed they were shit-talking the principal or Felix.

Bruce looked up as a new woman entered the office. "You must be this young lady's mother."

She awkwardly nodded, shaking his hand. "Mr. Wayne, nice to meet you… Bianca, are you alright?"

She nodded. "Can we go home?"

"After the police take your statement."

Bruce turned toward us; "there's no reason for all of us to be here, why don't you head back to campus? I'll stay with Damian."

"Is that what you want, kiddo?"

"… Father is correct; you should get back to class. You've wasted enough time on this."

I frowned a bit, gently cupping his chin. "Hey. It is never a waste to come for you. Ok?"

Damian flushed slightly, the slightest hint of a smile escaping his control. "Ok, Sister. … But you can go. I'll be ok."

I nodded. "Ok. I'm proud of you, Damian."

"Tt. It was the bare minimum." He looked away, embarrassed but pleased.

"… How many other people saw what he was doing and ignored it?"

He shrugged. "… Their moral failings don't make it not the minimum."

I chuckled softly. "Nevertheless. … We'll see you Thursday, yeah?"

He nodded once, giving me a quick hug. Bruce smiled slightly and nodded as well. "Thank you both."

I nodded, accepting a hug from him as well. Jason wrinkled his nose, but allowed Bruce to hug him, and we left. Mr. Cole was speaking with police officers in rapid, hushed tones as we passed.

Exiting the building, I slid a hand across Jason's back. He pulled me in against him, smiling softly. "Got time before your next class?"

"A few hours. Why?"

"Lunch?"

I grinned and nodded. "Gyros?"

"Sure, doll. Anything you want." He kissed the top of my head, leading the way to our bikes.

"So … you speak Arabic?"

"Yeah … why?" He raised an eyebrow.

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"… You want me to teach you, don't you?" He chuckled.

I grinned. "Yes!"

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Fanart in the header by: @crowkip

Taglist (always open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy @sarakmec @thestarcatcher7297 @stupidlyunhinged @mishkapi @mermaidgirl-11 @bunniboo0015 @bibibusinessman @iimichie @nekotaetae @sofiafantasies @casgh0st @fandom-trash0116 @viliwi

105 notes · View notes

wormwrites · 1 month ago

Text

JASON TODD + BOYFRIEND TEXTS.

note : ok i had too much fun with thr dick bf texts

488 notes · View notes

wormwrites · 1 month ago

Text

your former ex-boyfriend, dick grayson, is nervous.

he’s planned the day out to the letter. some of your favorite things, a museum stroll and a picnic in the gorgeous spring weather. (he made sure you took your allergy pill this morning, too.) he got absolutely no sleep, up all night with nerves, trying to take deep breaths into your hair as he cradled you close. he knows where you two need to be and when, and he’s got a square shaped box in his pocket poking into the meat of his thigh every time he takes a step. a step further with you, a step forward into your future together. but he’s nervous.

nervous you’ll say no. nervous you don’t want him the way he wants you. nervous he’s still not in the clear. it’s only been a year or so since he’d broken up with you, trying to decide he knows what’s best for the both of you.

he’s taken note, though.

of all the times you’ve joked about your ‘bare ring finger.’

all the moments he’s caught you lingering in front of a jewelry store.

you do always tell him you want him forever and always.

he’ll mention something in the future, float the idea of kids, or more pets, and you’ll talk about wanting to buy a house with him, asking him his opinion of architecture styles when you go on walks together.

the topic of the future is heavily woven into almost every interaction you have, fitting into place as perfectly as your hands do when he grabs yours.

but he’s nervous.

dick is being so weird. constantly checking his watch, hurriedly texting. eyes shifting around. you’d hugged him this morning, and felt his heart beating behind his ribs like a caged bird. he’s been a gentleman as always, curling your hair for you and asking you to twirl to show off your outfit. opening every door for you, walking on the side closer to the road as you walk down the sidewalk. but you know him. and something’s off.

you link your arm through his as you point out the brushstrokes in the rembrandt in front of you, and he nods in response, distracted.

“dick.” you say, exasperated.

“yes, angel?” he replies, obviously still a little distracted as you two continue down the gallery.

“what are you thinking about?” you ask, probing. he looks at you, the intensity in his blue eyes suddenly fully focused onto you. it’s a little jarring, one thing about dick you’ll probably never get used to. (and never want to.) having his full attention feels like being under a spotlight, like you’re the only other person in the world, and he wants nothing else but to hear what you have to say.

“i’m thinking about how gorgeous you look,” he says, the unexpected compliment sinking into your skin, warming you from the outside in.

“thank you, baby.” you say, a little flustered still.

he gives you his full and total attention the rest of the time you’re there, letting you look at every single exhibit until you’re satisfied.

he buys you a ridiculous keychain from the gift shop, a cutout of the panicked figure in edvard munch’s the scream.

it goes onto your keys immediately, dick’s satisfied smile even better than the keychain.

you head out of the museum, back to the car. dick opens your door, rounding to his side. he gets in, buckling his seatbelt after he’s sure you’ve already done yours. he kisses you on the cheek, starting the car.

“where to next, dick?”

“that’s for me to know and for you to find out.” he replies, and you laugh, rolling your eyes.

he drives further away from the city, deeper into the suburbs of gotham. the houses grow nicer and nicer as you drive up the hill, and you point some of them out to dick. he smiles, a knowing look on his face.

dick pulls into a park you’ve never seen before, and you get the oddest feeling in your stomach. almost a little apprehensive? you’re not sure why, you and dick have done a million dates like this before.

he parks, and opens your door for you, holding out a hand to help you out, even if you don’t need it.

you try to take the picnic basket from the trunk, but dick stops you, an incredulous look on his face. you smile in response, picking up the folded blanket instead. he easily slides the handle of the basket onto one arm, grabbing your free hand with his.

locking the car, he leads you to the hill crowning the park.

it’s a beautiful spring day, the sun shining but not too warm. birds sing out to each other from the trees, a light breeze rustling through the leaves, the lush grass covering the ground. one side of the park is covered in blooms upon blooms of flowers, intricately planted in order to be easily walked through. big, fluffy clouds float across the sky, every once in awhile in front of the sun.

you make it to the top of the hill, shaking the blanket out, setting it onto the grass. he sets the basket down, pulling out sandwiches and drinks from the cooler, a container of cut fruit, your favorite kind of chips. you go to sit down, take your shoes off, but he stops you.

bringing you over to the other side of the hill, he wraps an arm around your waist as you gape at the view. you’re overlooking the city, as far as the eye can see. the sun glints off of some of the high rises, and you pick the wayne enterprises building out easily. dick smiles at that, kissing your temple.

you turn from the view after that, focusing onto the one standing right next to you. his black hair gleams in the sun, his tanned skin making his blue eyes pop. he’s dressed so nicely, a good pair of jeans and a new button-up, his favorite pair of converse freshly scrubbed clean, a habit he has that’s so baffling to you.

you could’ve sworn you felt a raindrop or two, but nothing about the sky declares rain to come. you brush the idea off, turning back to look at the gotham skyline.

“angel,” dick says, and looking at him, you gasp.

he drops to one knee, and everything quiets except for the words he’s about to say. you can’t breathe, one hand is pressed to your chest, over your heart, the other one gripped tightly in dick’s. the ring in its ring box is positively breathtaking, but you only glance at it. he could propose with a ring pop, for all you care.

he opens his mouth to speak, and he’s cut off by a rushing sound. you both look up, confused. torrential rain sweeps across the park, across your picnic, thunder shaking the sky.

you’re soaked, your clothes and hair plastered to your skin. dick looks miserable, but you almost can’t help but laugh. poor dick, trying to get everything perfect. trying to do everything right, just for the one thing he couldn’t control, to be what ruins it.

dick’s only thankful for the rain because it’s hiding the tears threatening to fall.

“angel..” he starts again, his voice cracking. you shake your head. he doesn’t need to say anything, anything at all. you know what he has to say, and you agree with all of it, all of it and more.

his face sets into grim acceptance as he nods, but you just laugh again. he starts to close the ring box, but you stop him.

you slip the ring onto your wet finger, the stone glistening and sparkling, even under the dark skies. dick’s eyes light up, his mouth agape. before he can say a word, you tackle him into the grass.

“yes.” you say, peppering his face with kisses. some of the wetness on his face tastes salty, and you have no doubt in the world he was crying.

“yes, dick,” planting another on his forehead,

“yes,” his cheek,

“yes,” the tip of his nose,

“yes,” his chin,

“a thousand times, YES!” on his lips, rolling him on top of you on the wet grass. he sighs into your mouth, relaxing into it, and you can feel the smile on his lips.

dick grabs champagne from the picnic basket, shaking it as he pops it. you squeal when he sprays you with it, grabbing it to do the same to him. you take a swig, giving it back to dick as he copies you. you kiss, tasting the alcohol, the cool rain on his lips. he picks you up, spinning you, and you’ve never felt so free, so happy.

later, you’re back in the car, the heater on full blast as you sit there soaked.

“mrs. grayson,” you say, sighing happily. dick blushes, his eyes popping. he watches you admire the ring on your finger, pulling you closer, into a kiss. you deepen it, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“did you mean to propose on the same day you broke up with me?”

“what?!”

☆ ☆ ☆

idea courtesy of @cottage-worm

love ya bae, you got one heck of a brain on you

go read her writing too! @wormwrites

☆ ☆ ☆

post divider!!! @saradika-graphics

547 notes · View notes