i love tony stark and hes my favorite character, so i used to daydream about him a lot. i posted something really self indulgent about him and it got some traction, sooooo here's a masterlist :)
sleepless-starfish's tony hc series:
first sleepless night
second sleepless night
sleepless night + genius!reader
yandere tony headcanons!
tony stark mini-fics:
falling asleep in tony's lab
dad's bsf tony
random qimir stint i had:
princess!reader and the sith (smut)
tribal!oc qimir series (abandoned!)
frank castle crumbs and pieces
independant but insecure! reader (some smut)
weird relationship with sex! reader (more smut)
if you send me a request: i might do it, i might not. call that schrödinger's ask.
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the number 1 rule of fanfic is have fun and be yourself. the number 2 rule is the average healthy adult male can lose roughly 2 liters of blood before dying.
No, actually, I'm taking it out of the tags: can we talk about Rocky trying to send Grace back to Earth after Grace says that taking Rocky to Erid means that he's going to starve to death? Can we talk about "Then you go home. Go home now. I wait here. Erid maybe send another ship someday."? Can we talk about this alien who is a part of a very social species, who is scared to sleep alone, who has spent 46 years alone stranded in space already, who has a mate maybe possibly he's not sure waiting him home, who is tasked with a mission to save his people, who is currently the only one able to save his people — and who is ready to risk it all so that his leaky space blob friend can go home safe? Can we talk about that? Because I'm losing my mind every time I think about that.
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It's such an amazing feeling when someone picks up on something in your writing that you 100% intended but didn't think people would notice. Like, YES!! My writing properly conveyed the thing it was supposed to!!! You are so awesome for noticing that!!! I am so awesome for writing that!!! I feel so good about my story now!!!!
been thinking again about yan clark being forced to roll with your punches in order to not hurt you when you try to hit him. he’ll bob and weave when you try to scratch at him for pinning you down, but he’s very tempted to call your bluff when you hiss and call him a brute for using his super strength like this. he doesn’t need it to pin you down, but whatever makes you feel better. the next time to try to slap him, he doesn’t take it and lets you feel the full weight of his invulnerability behind your throw.
it’s no surprise when you break a few fingers and your wrist for putting all you weight behind a punch against an immovable steel wall, but he shushes and cradles you anyway when you wail in pain. he patches you up and kisses the tips of your fingers, soothing you through your sniffles. its the last time you’ll ever try to put your hands on him, he’s sure of it. can’t you see how gentle he makes himself for you? you really should have taken him at his word
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Riding Tony’s face as he jerks himself off😍😍😍 a need
✨Best Seat in The House✨
Author's Note: Nonnie are you JOOOOOOKING?! That man LIVES to eat you out. Like one taste and he has a whole fucking shrine built to how juicy and sweet your pussy is.
Trigger Warnings: SMUT SWEET SMUT | face riding | shy! reader| fingering | oral F receiving |
Word Count: 458
| Masterlist | Taglist |
Tony had been shamelessly flirting with you since the first day he laid eyes on you. Something about Pepper’s innocent little assistant just drove him absolutely nuts.
And those mini skirts you wore around the office? He could have sworn you were doing it just for him. And don’t even get him started on when you wore pants—your ass had never looked better.
So when he finally got you into his bed, he made sure you had the best seat in the house: his face.
You cute little innocent thing, you really thought you were going to hurt him if you put your full weight on him. To prove you wrong, he secured his strong hands around you, pinning you flush against him before he started expertly licking and sucking on your clit. You threw your head back in pure pleasure, the vibration of Tony's low groans echoing underneath you.
It wasn’t the first time you’d been eaten out, but it was definitely the first time a man had devoured you exactly the way God intended.
Tony was utterly lost, taking his sweet time to explore your folds with his expert tongue while his nose nudged at your clit, flicking it to absolute perfection.
Every flick of his tongue was precise, finding the exact rhythm that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. He started sucking on your clit once again, pulling you into his mouth until you were whimpering his name, your hips helplessly rolling against his face.
He had never been so damn hard in his entire life.
Unable to take it anymore, he slipped one of his hands down to the hem of his briefs, freeing his thick cock.
With your head still thrown back, you opened your heavy eyes, only to catch your reflection in the mirror on the ceiling directly above the bed.
“You like what you see?” Tony mumbled against you, noticing how you immediately bucked your hips against his mouth at the sight.
Your eyes stayed glued to the ceiling mirror, slowly tracking down from his broad chest and marked abs to where his hand was now rhythmically stroking his length. Your cheeks flushed a deep, breathless crimson.
“You like being dirty, don’t you?” he asked, though it sounded a whole lot more like a statement.
You only bit your lip, nodding as a breathless gasp escaped you. The sheer sight of Tony Stark completely beneath you, driven absolutely crazy just by eating you out, was something you found mind-numbing, extremely hot.
You could stop looking at how he stroked himself.
Tony smiled against your skin, his chest vibrating with a low laugh. “The shy ones are always the naughtiest,” he murmured, before immediately diving back into his ministrations.
"Yes there is a general right and wrong, but it's context dependent and you can't rely on religious institutions to implement 100% of them for you" was a really nice message Acolyte clearly wanted to explore.
And absolutely no one was ready for that conversation.
Rewatching bones is weird bc hodgins crazy conspiracies aren’t that crazy anymore, like hodgins will be like “yo the government isn’t helping people and are all rich assholes who say they want to help to stay rich whilst everyone else get poorer” and everyone around him will call him crazy. But I’m here watching from a third person perspective from the other room behind a glass wall and all I can do is bang on it and scream he was right but no one can hear bc it’s a fucking tv show.
Like no booth the government starting wars isn’t taboo anymore girly it’s fucking true they do it all the time.
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Every guy you date disappears without explanation, but your three best friend… Shoko, Gojo and Geto… never leave your side, and they never will.
Yandere Shoko Gojo Geto x reader
Tw: Yandere, mentions of violence and death, obsessive and possessive behaviour
You’re sitting in Geto’s apartment, mascara running down your face because Haruki… your boyfriend… blocked you on everything. Every social media account, your number, even LinkedIn for fuck’s sake. No explanation, nothing.
And this is the fourth time this has happened to you in two years.
“I don’t fucking get it,” you’re saying, wiping your nose with the tissue Shoko handed you. “Things were going so well. We were literally talking about meeting his parents and…”
Shoko’s behind you on the couch, and you’re between her legs, leaning back against her stomach in a way that would probably look weird to outsiders but feels completely natural to you. You’ve been friends since college. Her fingers are in your hair, scratching your scalp the way she knows makes you relax.
“Some guys are just cowards,” she says. “They’d rather disappear than have an actual conversation like adults.”
“He didnt deserve you anyway.” Gojo adds. He’s on the floor between your legs, arms rested on your knees, looking up at you. “Remember when he couldn’t even kill that spider in your apartment? He made you do it. What kind of man does that?”
You would laugh if you weren’t so miserable.
“He was weak,” Geto says from his position next to Shoko, close enough that his knee touches your hip…. which is another thing that would probably seem weird to people who don’t know you. But you’ve all been friends for six years. His hand comes up to wipe a tear from your cheek, thumb brushing across your skin with a gentleness that seems at odds with how imposing he looks “You need someone stronger than that.”
“I just need someone who doesn’t disappear on me,” you mutter. “This is the fourth guy, you guys. What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing’s wrong with you.” Gojo says it too quickly, with too much intensity. He shifts closer, and now both his hands are on your legs, palms warm through your jeans. “You’re fucking perfect. They’re the problem.”
Shoko’s hands slide from your hair down to your shoulders, massaging. “Maybe you should take a break from dating,” she suggests. Her voice is right by your ear. “Just focus on yourself….. On us.”
“You’ve got us,” Geto adds. His fingers move from your cheek to your neck, just resting there. His hand is big enough that his thumb sits on one side of your throat and his fingers on the other, not squeezing, just… there. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“I know, but I can’t date you guys….” you say, and you mean it as a joke. Obviously. Because they’re your best friends and that would be weird. Right?
“Why not?” Shoko says it like she’s joking too, but something about her tone is off.
“Because you’re my friends, weirdo.” You lean your head back against her stomach, looking up at her upside down face. She’s so pretty it’s honestly unfair. Even from this angle. “You don’t date your friends. That’s like… rule number one of having friends.”
“Right,” Geto says… there’s something in his voice that you can’t quite read. “Friends.”
You don’t catch the way they all look at each other over your head. Don’t see Gojo’s grin or how Shoko’s fingers tighten in your hair or the way Geto’s jaw clenches like he’s physically restraining himself from saying something.
You’re too busy crying over a guy who isn’t worth your tears. Too busy feeling sorry for yourself to notice the way all three of them are touching you… hands on your legs, in your hair, on your neck….. in a way that’s definitely crossed some invisible line.
Later, after they’ve calmed you down with food and too much wine and made you laugh despite everything…. Gojo doing his impression of Haruki’s spider scream, Shoko telling you about the absolute disaster of a date she went on last week (a lie, but you don’t know that), Geto putting on a stupid comedy special you love……. Gojo insists on walking you home.
His arm stays around your waist the entire way, even though you’re perfectly capable of walking on your own. Even when you’re in the elevator of your building and there’s literally nowhere for you to fall.
“You gonna be okay?” he asks when you reach your door. You’re fumbling with your keys because you’re still a bit drunk and your hands won’t cooperate.
“Yeah. Thanks for….”
He hugs you before you can finish. It’s tight…. tight enough that you make a small “oof” sound… his face buried in your neck, and it goes on just a bit too long. “Sleep well, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say into his shoulder. “You too.”
You don’t see the way he watches your door after you close it. Don’t see how he stands there in the hallway until he hears the lock click and the deadbolt slide into place. Don’t see the way his expression shifts into something that would probably scare you if you could see it.
☽☽☽.
“She cried for thirty fucking minutes,” Shoko says. She’s lighting a cigarette in Geto’s living room. “Over that limp dick loser.”
“He cried longer,” Gojo says cheerfully. He’s lying on the couch, looking entirely too pleased with himself, legs spread out and head tipped back against the cushions. “Pissed himself too when Suguru started with the knife.”
“He kept saying he loved her,” Geto says. He’s washing his hands in the kitchen sink. There’s still some blood under his fingernails. The water runs pink, then clear. “Had to gag him. The warehouse walls are thick but not that thick.”
“Where’d you dump him?” Shoko asks, taking a long drag. She’s examining her nails… she’d stayed behind for this one, played alibi, but she looks a little disappointed that she missed it.
“Same place as the others. The lake.” Geto dries his hands on a towel, inspecting them in the light. “Weighted him down properly this time. He’s fish food now. They’ll find him in spring maybe. If there’s anything left to find.”
They sit in silence for a moment. Comfortable silence that comes from knowing someone so well that you don’t need to fill the empty spaces.
“I love her so much it makes me want to break shit sometimes,” Gojo says suddenly and his voice has lost its cheerful tone. “Like, I see her smile at some random asshole and I genuinely want to cave his skull in.”
Shoko takes another drag, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. “How long do you think until she figures it out?”
“Does it matter?” Gojo shrugs… and the grin is back. “Where’s she gonna go? Who’s she gonna tell? No bodies, no evidence. And even if she did know….”
“We’re not letting her go,” Geto finishes. “Ever.”
The cigarette smoke curls in the air between them, and somewhere across the city, you’re falling asleep in your bed, completely unaware that the three people you trust most in the world have killed for you four times now.