gingerteafairy

[gingerteafairy]

cuddlefucking w/ clark kent.. 18+ fem!reader. mdni my bad, another one. can't get him out my system

the weight of clark atop you is hefty, though it’s grounding. just sheer, substantial mass keeping you put against the bed. his body is on top of yours, lower half slotted between the legs you have tangled around him — your ankles locked lazily below his ass. 

he’s keeping you close, caging you essentially. all your limbs intertwining in some way or another. the back of your head rests within clark’s left palm, forearm bent beside you to keep himself anchored. while his other sears warmth into the side of your tit, the following hand clasped loosely around the base of your throat. there’s no pressure behind his touch, simply a way to gently manoeuvre you to flow with the rocking movement of him.

each wind of his hips is deliberate. every slow, measured thrust coming from a place of unwavering want, the object of haste completely out of question. quite like he’s keen to savour the moment, enjoy the simple fact that your skin is touching his. 

with the closeness of it all, your mouths ghost one another, lips grazing the other as hot, shuddery breaths are exchanged. blissed sounds being transferred between either one of you, each one synchronised to the leisure fucking. the wet, clicking of your cunt taking his cock accompanies the already lewd sounds from either one of you, the combination creating a truly vulgar auditory experience. 

clark adjusts and tucks his legs up, knees now resting beside either hip — simultaneously getting closer and reaching deeper inside you. your own legs move with the reposition and by now it's almost comparable to a koala on a tree, arms and legs entangling themselves around his body. latched on tight, like him with you.

with the hand he has on the side of your neck, he tilts your head back, thumb underneath your chin as if to wordlessly grant him more access to the expanse of your throat. and with the space now available to him, he trails soft, featherlight kisses to you in clumps, taking his time with every single one he singes into your skin.

“you’re really deep,” you utter, words bordering on strained. 

“oh really?” he softly quips, a cheeky, boyish grin forming upon his lips — mouth still shadowing yours. clark peers down, adoring gaze lowered as he meets your eyes. he nips at your bottom lip and presses a lengthy string of short and sweet kisses to you. “I hadn’t noticed.”

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[gingerteafairy]

reblog if you’re a sick fuck

[gingerteafairy]

I'm writing 23 fics at the same time. No, I'm not okay.

[gingerteafairy]

pov: text messages w bf!sam winchester

content warning: some suggestiveness.

author's note: i can't stop making these sos

[gingerteafairy]

life’s too short not to admit I have a tragic-victorian-poetic crush on timothée chalamet

[gingerteafairy]

i miss him everyday

jeff buckley ୭

[gingerteafairy]

𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒛 ♱𓍼༘⋆

[gingerteafairy]

alien!gerard way x gn!reader headcanons

tags n warnings: nsfw. word count: +800

A/N: i made this listening to E.T by katy perry lol

The ship crash-landed in an abandoned lot at eleven pm on a Tuesday. You saw the entire thing unfold, blinking against the harsh glow of headlights as you froze on the sidewalk—it was right along the route you always took home.

Convincing you he was an alien wasn’t exactly a challenge. Mostly because he couldn’t seem to communicate with any living creature on this planet. Case in point: he tried requesting landing clearance from a stray cat, bending slightly at the waist, voice earnest. The cat just blinked at him once and walked away.

He grew attached to you ridiculously fast, trailing after you with wide, curious eyes until finally asking if he could take shelter at your place. “This is your dwelling? Primitive… No, no, that’s not an insult. No, I like history.”

Completely new to human social norms, he looked baffled when you refused to let him sleep in your “facilities” that first night, head tilting like he was recalibrating his understanding of the situation. “I don’t understand. Why is sleeping with you not right? I can’t be sleep deprived. Hey. Hey! Why are you closing the door?”

A few nights later, after wearing you down with repeated promises that he’d be perfectly decent—“I’ve done my research, thank you, Interface”—you gave in.

Yes, Interface was what he decided to call your computer. He says it like it’s a person.

He enjoyed being called “alien,” but after observing that every human had a name, he decided you were the one who should give him one. In the end, Gerard was the name that made both of you smile.

“Germanic origin. Ger or Gari translates to ‘spear.’ Hard means ‘brave,’ ‘strong,’ or ‘hardy.’ Do you think it fits me?”

"Yeah. You’ve gotta be pretty fearless to come explore this fucking shitty planet.”

“Fucking shitty planet?” His brow furrowed in confusion.

“Yeah. It’s an insult.”

He became a complete potty mouth after that. You often had to cut him off in public before he could finish whatever colorful phrase he’d started.

“You say it all the time!” he’d protest, his voice just loud enough to turn heads.

“I say it when we're alone” you replied through clenched teeth, forcing a polite smile at the barista.

Got addicted to coffee once he tried. So much so that he engineered his own coffee machine—more time at home with you, and endless caffeine for him. Win-win.

Randomly dropped human history facts into casual conversation. “The longest-reigning monarch in history was Louis XIV of France—72 years and 110 days.”

Loved your emotions. Even mid-argument, while you scolded him for something ridiculous, he’d tilt his head and smile from ear to ear.“I like the way your facial muscles move in this new expression.

Which made it nearly impossible to stay angry at him. “Damnit,” you sighed, uncrossing your arms. “You’re forgiven, but don’t do it again.”

When he made a big enough mistake, you’d just… go silent. He never understood what that meant, so he’d consult Interface.

His searches were completely unfiltered—one of which led him to discover… other things. Things that sparked an entirely new curiosity in Gerard, and eventually made him ask, eyes bright and voice hopeful, if he could “test all of that” with you.

You hesitated for a moment—it didn’t exactly feel right to do something like that with your alien best friend.

But Gerard’s curiosity was relentless, and eventually, you gave in. You told him you’d start slow, just kisses, until he—and you—got used to it.

The first kiss was… strange. Gerard didn’t taste like anything you’d experienced before. It was like coffee, cleaning products, and citrus fruit had all somehow agreed to coexist. Gerard, on the other hand, was convinced you tasted like “Venus in a storm.” Whatever that meant.

Your promise to keep it at just kisses didn’t last long—Gerard learned fast. Too fast. And in moments like these, you forgot entirely that he was an alien.

“I like the sounds you make when I do that,” he murmured against your mouth, voice warm and curious. “You sound like a little cat.”

Ever the explorer, his hands wandered without hesitation, fingertips brushing over everything like he was cataloging new discoveries. “Oh,” he said suddenly, with a spark of realization as he touched your sensitive area. “That’s what this thing does. I like it.”

Horny and clingy as hell after the first time. Can't keep his hands to himself. He's always touching you and soon he discovered what turned you on and made good use of it. "Oh, what am i planning? Nothing, i just wanna make you feel good. Can I, please? Yeah? You're so good to me."

He grinned like a fool the first time you accidentally told him "i love you" while he had you pinned under him, freezing his thrusts before leaning in to give you a sweet kiss.

"thank you for saying that before i messed up everything without the fireworks"

"what?" you chuckled against his lips

"the guy on that show only said i love you when he set off fireworks"

After that, he asked to be your boyfriend. It sounded like a pretty sweet deal, especially since he seemed fascinated by the concept of taking you out on a date, just like on TV.

He wanted to build his own fireworks display just to set off the moment you came home.

[gingerteafairy]

JOSEPH QUINN as JOHNNY STORM

The Fantastic Four: First Steps (2025) dir. Matt Shakman

[gingerteafairy]

this is how i blog

[gingerteafairy]

Hi! Idk if I’m supposed to send a request on here or somewhere else so I’ll just send it here if that’s ok! You don’t have to do this if you think it’s a weird story/request but it would be Gerard way and a female reader. (Gerard way during three cheers) and Gerard and the reader have been dating since senior year of highschool but have been friends since they were like 14. Their relationship is really sweet but the reader is super insecure about her body bc she’s chubby and she thinks she’s ugly. Gerard is on tour and he comes home. The reader is in the shower and Gerard sees that the readers journal is left open. So he reads it and the journal basically says how the reader is afraid Gerard will cheat on her while he’s on tour bc she’s fat and all that. Then the reader sees Gerard reading her journal and gets mad but he calms her down and explains to her how she’s perfect and so gorgeous and how he doesn’t care what she looks like and that he loves her for who she is and not for her looks. And Ik this is gonna be super weird but they end up cuddling after they fight and while they are cuddling they start kissing then it looks to like soft smut Yk? I’m so sorry if this is weird I’m sorry lol

I'm not taking requests right now, but I was already thinking about doing something like this. I struggle with this specific insecurity, so it would be kind of a comfort and a way to vent about it. Thanks for the idea. And no, it's not weird lol don't worry. I wrote this really quickly. I'm already finishing, I just need to translate it, since lately I've been writing in my first language hehe

[gingerteafairy]

using prompt no 17: love marks

frank iero x reader

tags n warnings: suggestive. word count: +400

You groaned softly as your eyes started to open, a sleepy smile spreading across your face the moment you felt Frank’s arms wrapped snugly around your waist. Warm, heavy, and entirely tangled in the sheets, he held you like he had no plans of letting go. Reaching out blindly, you grabbed your phone, noticing the alarm had most likely gone off while you’d slept right through it.

Careful not to wake him, you slowly rolled out of bed, your muscles still aching pleasantly from the night before, and padded your way into the attached bathroom.

Rubbing your eyes and lazily grabbing the toothpaste from behind the mirror, you began brushing your teeth. As you shut the cabinet, your reflection stared back at you—and your eyes narrowed, catching sight of your neck.

Deep red, purple, and faint pink marks bloomed across your skin in messy, uneven patterns. You tugged your shirt collar down and saw they trailed further than your eyes could follow, disappearing beneath the soft cotton.

“I like them,” came Frank’s voice from behind you—low, gravelly from sleep and laced with pride. His reflection joined yours a second later as he stepped in close behind you, pressing a slow kiss to one of the bruises on your neck.

“Are you part dog or something?” you teased, raising a brow as his arms slid around your waist, steadying himself as he reached past you for his toothbrush and toothpaste.

“Is that a complaint?” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear before pressing one last smacking kiss there and starting to brush his teeth.

“Not really, but look at this,” you laughed, rinsing your mouth and setting your toothbrush aside. “It looks like I got attacked.”

“You kinda did,” he said through a mouthful of foam, half-laughing as he leaned over to spit in the sink—carefully, making sure not a drop splashed onto you. “Consensual. Wild. Highly enjoyable.”

You finished cleaning up just as Frank did, and before you could even move, he wrapped his arms around your waist again, this time slower. His chin came to rest on your shoulder as he breathed you in, the kind of sigh that was full of contentment and heat all at once.

“You look gorgeous,” he whispered, lips brushing the spot where your neck met your shoulder—right over another blooming mark he’d left behind.

“Because I’m wearing your shirt and covered in bite marks?” you smirked, catching both of your reflections in the mirror.

“Mmm. Both,” he grinned, pulling you flush against him, that crooked smile growing wider as he nuzzled into your shoulder. “Definitely both.”

“Frank, are you turned on?” You chuckled, suddenly feeling the hardness pressed against your butt, with soft humpings.

“Kind of,” He hummed, burying his face on your neck to kiss your pulsing point. “I wanna mark you again.” 

[gingerteafairy]

guess who watched JJK0 again

satoru gojo x fem!reader warnings: suggestive

Having Satoru Gojo as your supervisor was… different.

You’d been told it would take three months to be accepted as the new secretary—three long months under his full observation, where every step, every file, every sentence would be measured with cold, professional precision.

Or at least, that was what you'd expected. Instead, Gojo had gotten attached a little too quickly to your refusal to take his nonsense seriously. You didn’t bow your head for anyone—and that alone made him question if you were really cut out to be a secretary. After all, in Gojo’s world, the ideal secretary was obedient. Submissive.

“Did you see how she walked in this morning, Kento?” Satoru grinned, sliding a stack of papers into a drawer he never locked. “All full of herself. She looked me in the eye and said: ‘Move, Satoru. Sit down, you’re useless standing there.’ Like she owned the fucking place.”

“And you let her say that?” Nanami didn’t even glance up from his screen.

“Of course,” you answered for him, arms crossed with a sly smile threatening your lips. “He’s not dumb enough to challenge me.”

Gojo leaned back against the desk, adjusting his sunglasses as his eyes followed the curve of your smirk. “Damn. Your boyfriend must get his ass spanked on a regular basis.”

“Actually, yeah. He does,” You tilted your head slightly. “He likes it.”

Gojo chuckled, biting down on the edge of a grin as if trying to stop it from taking over his whole face. But his sunglasses couldn’t hide the gleam in his eyes—mischievous and knowing. Because you didn’t have a boyfriend.

And because, with full confidence and not-so-subtle intent, he knew exactly who you had in mind for the role.

[gingerteafairy]

☆Vampire! Gerad way headcannons☆

★Warnings: Blood play

★Word count: 491

★Citrus level: lemon

★ a/n: Hi hello guys sooo i know the annon who requested this probably like wanted a full fic but i NEED to get ktober together sooo were just doing head cannons today so i can crank this and one more request out so i can lock in i love you guys <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

‎‧₊˚✧[SFW]✧˚₊‧

꩜ - You know having a vampire as a boyfriend was risky. Vampires had a tendency to be violent, unpredictable, possessive and unbearably lustful. But Gerard was different. He's never gotten violent and was relatively laid back. He stayed inside most of the time, reading and writing his silly comics and staying in his room. However, about once a month or so Gerard would just get super fucking horny, kinda like a wolf in heat. Just about a week or so where he would just be constantly fucking you or trying to drag you to bed. And if you were off somewhere he'd steal your clothes and jerk off to the thought of you.

꩜ - He was super protective of you. He doesn't really get out much during the day for obvious reasons, he gets worried that you'll find another person who will spend time with you on the day when you can't. It scares him. Or even worse, you find another vampire. He was just about as chill as vamps could come, he was worried that another vampire would hurt you or something. He'd never let that happen.

꩜ - when the warm glow of the day starts fading, enveloping the world around you in the comforting softness of the night hours. He comes out of his little basement. He'll spend nights with you, doing whatever. Whether he's writing comics on the living room couch next to you, or watching shitty horror movies. Or cuddling with you in bed while you slept. He doesn't necessarily need to sleep, he just does it for you so you don't feel as alone in bed.

꩜ -Gerard is honestly just the sweetest man ever, you honestly forget hes a vampire like 80% of the time… until he gets hungry.

‎‧₊˚✧[NSFW]✧˚₊‧

꩜ -Everytime gerard comes up to you whining that hes hungry it somehow always ends up in you and gerard fucking. Gerard hates hurting you but god biting your neck and letting the blood leak out is so hot and drinking it from you. It's an oddly intimate thing knowing that he almost literally needs you to survive.

꩜ - He loves getting blood on his fingers and drawing little hearts or writing something like “gee’s bitch” on your ass. He takes polaroids of it and jerks off to it later.

꩜ -He loves using your blood as lube, it doesnt work super well but he thinks its so hot to lube his cock up with your blood and jerk off. He loves it so much. The smell of it, the feel of it.

꩜ -Everytime you guys fuck every once of gerards nirmal shy and soft nature is just gone. He's relentless, he's rough and he has no problem just slamming into for hours with no sign of stopping. The longest hes gone with you so far is about 5 rounds.

꩜ - After every time he comes down from his orgasm he's in your arms whimpering and apologizing for being so rough with you.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[gingerteafairy]

THE CURE MENTIONED!!!!

What A Strange Stare [Dave Lizewski]

Fluff

Whenever Dave or you walk past eachother, you stare for a second. A lingering glance that causes him confusion and a dull ache in his heart.

:) ok I got inspiration from my beloved @pretty-little-mind33 and her 🍰 anon!! Fully just from what they both said I got this idea. Will probably be a little short but i couldn't help myself.

Sort of, goth!reader? I might get some stuff wrong but I'm not that big into the goth culture so sorry if I get anything wrong :(

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

You met eyes again. Your hand adjusting the bag on your shoulder. Then you disappeared down the corner.

"At some point you really need to talk to them." Marty started, once again watching Dave's slight yearning as his eyes burned into your back. It was like a little meeting multiple times throughout the day. You were... So strange to him. Your clothes were nearly always monochromatic. Nearly.

Perhaps there was a navy tanktop, denim jeans with a little wash on the knees. Always a jacket on top of your shirts. There was a rare leather jacket which made Dave stare for longer. Sometimes you could've sworn you saw hearts in his eyes when you walked past.

The prospect of actually trying to find a conversation starter between you two was slightly horrifying. What on earth could you be into? You looked... Well goth really. What were goths into? He huffed out a noise and bumped his head into his locker. "Okay but about what?"

"Music?" Todd interjected with a shrug.

"what music??" Dave asked back, slightly exasperated. His taste was anything from Blink-182 to the occasional underrated Queen song, so there was no telling if you were into the same songs. The three of them continued to mutter together about what songs you possibly liked until the next few classes.

It was a pain to think about for Dave, his little hallway crush overtaking his classes.

However, finally, at the end of the day, Dave caught wind of you again, watching you stand by the road, seemingly waiting. One ankle crossed over the other, jacket resting over the top of your bag. God, you were so... So ethereal. Everything about you was seemingly impossible to take into account. How on earth was he meant to talk to you?

You felt something burn into your back, and you turned your head slightly to look behind you. Meeting eyes to eyes until you saw Dave. A ghost of a smile met your lips, like you actually acknowledged him for once. His cheeks burned, and that little smile was suddenly ingrained into his head. When you saw that flush on his cheeks, you smiled a little bit more and gave him a wave. That wave gave him confidence, and you watched Dave walk up to you. "Okay... Um, Hi there." He coughed, resting the tips of his fingers in his jeans pockets.

"Hi..."

"So, I was wondering about... Music.." Dave wasn't sure his cheeks could feel more hot, but a flush of it ran through his body in embarrassment. Like his mind suddenly stopped half way through.

"Music?" You smiled slightly.

"Yes! Um, what music are you, do you, what do you listen to?"

"Uh, lots of things. I like The Cure," You looked away as you thought of your music taste, trying to find something interesting. The Cure wasn't overall very interesting because of their popularity. Then again, Queen was the same. "Queen.."

"Me too! Um, News Of The World is my favourite."

You smiled again. "I like Sheer Heart Attack." Dave wasn't quite sure how he managed to find one single artist you both liked, but he managed it. And his heart raced. "What else do you like?"

"Deftones."

"Oh they're cool. Um, I think my ride is here, but do you want my number? Help mix a playlist of the songs we both like?"

His eyes widened. What was his luck? Pretty damn good is what it was. Dave could barely reply before you placed a piece of paper in his hand and walked off into a car on the other side of the road.

Dave,

Here's my number. I've been wanting to talk to you, but I got too nervous whenever I walked past. So, feel free to recommend me music or whatever.

You signed it off with your number and your name. Once he recognised it, you were resting your head slightly out of the window and someone was starting to drive off. Jesus Christ... Those eyes. The most graceful stare he had ever come across. It didn't stop the fact he was probably never going to stop his heart from racing faster whenever he thought of you.

This term was going to be hell.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Taglist: @strawb3rrystar / @american-horror-whore / @cherrys-muses

[gingerteafairy]

using prompt no 6: marathon session

dave lizewski x fem!reader

tags n warnings: SMUT/MDNI word count: +500

Dave Lizewski was clingy—but not in the usual, texting-you-every-minute or kissing-you-in-public kind of way. No, his neediness ran deeper, like some strange survival instinct that required physical closeness to function properly. He existed somewhere in the spectrum between “sit on my lap while I eat/play/study” and “my day doesn’t start until I get a kiss from you.” So it wasn’t exactly shocking when Dave, in his usual awkward, endearing way, suggested a sex marathon.

Well, he didn’t exactly use those words. It was more of a breathless, jumbled mess that sounded something like: “I… uh, yeah. So, I was thinking. I mean—I wanted to know, y’know… what’s our limit, like on sex? But, like, only if you want to! It’s just—I’ve always wondered. I really, really wanted to try.”

With your heart already melting from how adorably nervous he was, you agreed almost instantly, throwing yourself into his arms and claiming a round one.

That first round quickly turned into two, then three, then four, five, six… and somewhere around round eight, you completely lost count. Standing became unbearable. Breathing felt like a chore. And yet—god—you two just couldn’t stop. Your lips were swollen, your throat raw, and Dave’s hair had long since lost any sense of what its natural texture was—curly, wavy, straight, a total mess. His glasses had snapped at some point after he fell back without noticing, too wrapped up in the moment to care.

“I think… I think I’m tapped out…” he whimpered hoarsely, his fingers barely gripping your waist now, the red skin beneath them proof of how intense things had gotten. “I can’t cum, I’m so fucking drained—”

“Do you—shit—wanna stop for water?” you gasped, grinding your hips lazily into his because your legs were too shaky to move properly anymore.

“No—yes—I mean, maybe? Oh god, wait—wait—I’m close,” he groaned, threading his hand into your hair, pulling you in again with a kiss that was all tongue, desperation, and devotion.

“Me too, me too,” you sobbed against his mouth, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes—your body overwhelmed by the unbearable mix of aching pleasure and overstimulation. Your nails dug into his shoulders, marking him up like your life depended on it.

Everything hurt, everything burned, and still… there was nothing else in the world either of you would rather be doing. The orgasm came like a crash for both of you. Your minds were clouded, your bodies sweaty and worn from relentless use. You collapsed against Dave's chest, hugging him, arms hanging loosely. You couldn't feel the familiar warm liquid inside you, but you could feel Dave's cock pulsing, just as he'd spoken.

“Do you wanna eat now?” you asked, pulling back just enough to look at him properly.

“Yeah, I think I could make a sandwich or something,” he mumbled, swiping his hand across his damp forehead, pushing back the soaked curls that clung stubbornly to his skin. His breath was still uneven, chest rising and falling under you. “Just…” he started, then hesitated. “No, forget it… It’s too much.”

“Hm?” you prompted, smiling softly at him as you noticed the flush on his cheeks—part exhaustion, part embarrassment. “C’mon, say it.”

“Can we do it again?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Just… one more time?”

[gingerteafairy]

please keep writin age gap frankie >_<

actually, I'm writing a 10k-word fic with age gap frankie :D (i need to touch some grass)