iobsessoverfictionalmen

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

your writing is fantastic!

am i into star wars? ehh not really, but I AM into good stories!! you make good stories!!

You are very sweet, anon!

Thank you for your lovely message and I hope you have a great day/night!

#ask #answered ask #anonymous #anon ask #answered anon #send anons about my writing

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

reblog this if you want anonymous opinions of you

#please #tell me what you think #about my writing

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Chandler Manning x Reader: Devoted Rage

This is a short blurb, not a full fic

Note: consider this part of the Find You universe! Thank you for the prompt @yesalwayswelles!!!

Warnings: noncon but no actual sex, grinding, whipping (with a belt), mean dom, yandere kinda

———

Laying on the bed, you writhed with every sharp sting from Chandler’s belt, each hit filled with a devoted rage. He was in a bloody tank top and boxers, the rest of his clothes discarded. You, meanwhile, were nude, other than the handcuffs keeping you attached to the bed and the pink fuzzy collar around your neck.

“This is for your own good, sweetheart,” Chandler growled between each smack, the sound of leather against skin ringing in your ears.

Your ass and back were covered in red swollen welts, some feeling so raw that you were sure he had drawn blood. This was confirmed when, after a particularly nasty strike, Chandler leaned over, licking and sucking the mark. He groaned in ecstasy at the coppery taste of your blood.

“Such a sweet girl… you’ll learn,” he said, a hand kneading your ass, “I’ll show you… you’re only safe with me.”

Dropping the belt, Chandler climbed on top of you, laying down on your back. He lined up his clothed bulge to grind against your ass. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you as still as possible with the tightened grasp. With soft lips and sharp teeth, he kissed and bit at your neck, leaving bruises along the sensitive flesh. His wet, cigar smoke-laden tongue traced your pulse, the muscle easily feeling the speeding heartbeat that pumped through your artery.

““You can run away,” he whispered, breath hot against your ear, “but I will always find you."

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Poll for writers and artists

Whether you write fanfic or original works or paint/draw, be it fan art or original work or whatever else - I have to know, because I have a feeling this is going to be very decisive:

Please reblog for sample size!

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

i want 60 thousand votes by next thursday

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Me reblogging my mutuals funny posts or their nice selfies

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Chandler Manning x Reader: Find You

This is a short blurb, not a full fic

Note: THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPT @yesalwayswelles!!!! I’ll be doing the other one as a part two to this!!

Warnings: noncon, kidnapping, predator/prey dynamic, fingering

———

You were dripping with sweat as you ran through the darkened forest, focused on running from your captor. He was chasing you, close behind, almost able to grab your shirt and pull you backwards. Looking over your shoulder, you met with a snarling expression, like a predator chasing down its prey.

Before you could turn back, you tripped over the root of a large old oak. Landing face first, the wind was knocked out of you, and your chance to escape was lost. The dark-suited man pounced, pinning your body to the forest floor. He grabbed your neck, his other hand working on forcing up the tight little skirt he had dressed you in.

“Nice try, little girl,” the man growled.

Tears slicked your cheeks as you felt him peel offer your panties, ripping them off of your sweaty skin. His thick fingers found their way to your entrance, forcing them in without warning. You tried to scream at the sensation, but it only came out as a croaked moan.

“Should I just break your legs, hm? That way you can never, ever run away again.”

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

The Demon With A Heart

[Crowley x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Crowley saves your life, you can't help but think it was a little more than self-interest.

WC: 1858

Category: 99.9% Sexual Tension (lmfao), 0.01% Fluff + Angst? {TW: Mentions of Demons (obvi), Murder}

Crowley is too iconic not to have fics. I said what I said.

『••✎••』

You didn’t know how to react. It was as if your tongue was taken away, and you couldn’t talk, no matter how much you wanted to thank the man.

No, the demon.

You stood there with wide eyes, staring at the King of Hell, Crowley. He looked the same as before: a clean suit, a snarky comment, and a look of disgust on his face. But, instead of being on the opposite side, he was wiping the blood off of the angel blade he used to kill the angel that jumped you.

He just saved you—The King of Hell.

The very man who told Sam and Dean countless times that he doesn't do anything for free and doesn’t help people without getting something out of it. Yet, here he was, standing in front of you, not asking for a single thing.

The thought was a bit unsettling.

"Purely out of self-interest, darling," He says, breaking the silence and putting the stolen blade into his jacket. "Call it a favor that I plan to collect in the future."

He was about to leave, but you couldn’t let him go. Not without a thank you, at least. You didn't want him to think you didn’t appreciate what he did.

"Crowley."

The man turns back around, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.

"Thank you"

The corner of his mouth turned upward, forming a small smirk. He didn’t say anything but rather kept his eyes on you for a second longer. He then disappeared, leaving you in the dark.

And it did leave you in the dark. For days, weeks, months. He never came for that favor, and he never brought up what happened. In fact, he barely talked to you at all. It was always towards the Winchesters.

You began to believe it was nothing but a dream. That Crowley somehow didn't save you. The angel was a fake, and this was all some sick joke. It felt like gaslighting.

But you knew what happened was real. You remembered the blood splatter and the dead corpse. The way his face contorted when he pierced the angel's heart.

It was all too real.

So, why was he ignoring you? Why did he pretend that it never happened? Was he going to hold it over your head? Or was it just the fact that the King of Hell did something nice for a human?

Was it because he… cared?

One night, you got your answer. It was a quiet night filled with books, tea, and soft music. At least, it was before those idiotic brothers decided to tear down the bunker in search of some book.

You couldn’t remember the exact reason they needed it, but you were too tired to argue. So, you stayed in your room and tried to fall asleep.

That is until the lights went out and the emergency lights kicked on. Okay, now you were annoyed. You got up, slipped on your shoes and a coat, and walked out of your room.

"Alright, what did you two-"

You paused mid-sentence, eyes falling onto the figure in the library. The man was facing the opposite way, but you knew exactly who it was. The familiar black suit and hair gave it away.

"Crowley…"

"Hello, Darling,” he replied, turning around and smiling at you. It was almost unnerving. He didn’t have a malicious aura or even an evil one. Just... a smile.

You looked behind him and noticed… well, nothing. You were expecting the Winchesters to be with him, and yet, it was just him.

"Where are the boys?"

"Moose and Squirrel? Ah, they're off somewhere, doing... well, you know. Something heroic, I suppose. Figured I’d stick around… enjoy the scenery."

That’s when you looked up and understood what he meant. He was stuck, quite literally. Those devil traps they put everywhere finally did something good.

You half-expected him to bring up that 'favor' he was talking about or maybe even just demand to get out of there, but he did neither. Instead, he looked at the ground and sighed.

At the moment, the King of Hell looked just like a caged puppy, sad and alone. If he wasn’t such a… demon, you might have even felt bad for him.

But, you left him in there, strolling along to the kitchen to find some kind of light. You were not giving up your two hours of reading due to power loss.

As you shuffled through the cabinets, looking for any form of match or lighter, the lights flickered back on.

So that’s where the Winchesters were.

You shrugged and turned back to your room but stopped at the entrance to the library. Crowley was still there, but this time, his face was twisted. He was clearly pissed.

"Why did you do it?" The burning question you wanted answered for months finally came out. Crowley stopped his little fit and turned towards you, a confused expression on his face.

He looked like he had no idea what you were talking about.

"I do a lot of things, Chipmunk. You'll have to be more specific."

You walked towards him, resting down the candles and book on a nearby table. You didn’t know why, but the need to confront him was growing.

"Save me all those months ago."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You were getting closer, now only a few feet from him. Crowley, however, didn’t back away. Instead, he watched as you moved, his expression unchanging.

"That angel could’ve killed me, yet you came out of nowhere and stabbed him. I know you don't do anything out of kindness, so why did you do it? What do I offer that no one else does?"

Crowley stayed silent for a while, not giving any indication of answering your questions.

You thought it was just a lost cause until his expression changed. It was subtle, but you caught it. The corner of his mouth turned down, and his eyes widened, then narrowed.

He almost looked ashamed.

"It's just like I said. Self-interest." He spat out, his voice sounding like venom. You almost took a step back. It still sounded like the same old Crowley, but his tone was different.

You decided to call his bluff.

"I don't believe you."

Crowley raised an eyebrow, a smirk coming across his face. He was amused by the sudden attitude, but it didn’t last long.

"And what makes you say that?"

"I saw the way you looked at me after you saved me. Hesitancy, almost. Like you were unsure. As if..."

The King of Hell stared at you, waiting for the last part of your statement. He was eager but not for the answer. No, he knew what you were going to say.

He was just waiting to hear it come out of your mouth.

"You care."

Those words hung in the air, both of you processing it. Crowley continued to stare at you, the smirk disappearing, leaving his face neutral. He had a blank expression.

A silence grew, the atmosphere turning awkward. It wasn't until the demon let out a loud sigh and looked to the side that it was broken.

"You’re really pulling on the heartstrings, Chipmunk,” he muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "If I had one, I'd say it was aching."

"Do you?"

You knew what you were implying. Crowley was the King of Hell, the ruler of the damned. He was the furthest thing from human, yet he could walk among them and, sometimes, be mistaken for one.

Was it possible for him to be human or even have emotions?

Crowley looked at you and frowned, clearly not liking the topic. But he didn't deny it. It was a strange sight—the King of Hell, frowning and silent.

It was almost adorable.

"I'm not asking for anything. I just… want an honest answer."

"Well, I am a demon, love,” He stated, his tone changing to a more playful one. “Honesty isn’t quite in the job description."

"Crowley"

You were starting to get impatient, and it showed. Your voice was firm, and your posture was tense. You wanted an answer, and you were determined to get it.

The demon in question let out another sigh and looked at the ceiling as if praying for a quick escape.

"You're a pain, you know that? It's exhausting." He grumbled, rolling his eyes. "But, I suppose, since you asked nicely..."

The man looked at you, his lips pursed. He was still hesitating, which only made you more curious.

"Yes, I care. About you. Happy?"

You blinked a few times, processing the information. Did the King of Hell, the person known for not giving a shit, just admit he cares?

"I-" You started, not knowing what to say. It was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. Crowley wasn't exactly a bad guy, well, a demon.

"Do you actually mean that?"

"Now that…" Crowley started, his voice low and deep. He leaned towards you, making you back up, but the wall soon prevented you from going any further.

He was inches away, his breath hitting your face. You could see his eyes staring into yours—a pretty brown, like a mocha latte.

"…Is the kind of question that will get you in trouble, love."

You weren’t sure what he was planning, but you didn't care. The way his eyes were looking at you, the smirk on his face, the closeness...

He was probably expecting you to back away, but he was wrong. You were an avid reader, obsessive even. This scene wasn't new, nor was it shocking.

The only shocking part was the fact that you were the one in it. And, well, the fact that you didn’t mind it.

"Unlike you,” you whispered, a small smirk on your face. "I don’t care."

Your response made him pause for a moment, squinting his eyes and giving you a confused look. It only lasted a few seconds, though. Soon, he understood, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

"Touché"

You truly believed you were about to lose your chance with the man upstairs, but loud footsteps interrupted you.

"Crowley, you slimy son of a bitch! If you’re not here, we are going to-"

Dean stopped talking as he rounded the corner, seeing you and Crowley close. His expression was shocked, almost comical.

"The hell is going on here?"

You and Crowley both turned to look at Dean, a look of annoyance on the King of Hell's face. Sam came around the corner as well, sharing the same look of confusion.

Crowley gave you one last glance, a bit of disappointment in his eyes, before taking a step back. His attention moved on to the two hunters, his usual smile returning.

And despite the annoyance in the air and the confusion, the only thing that came across your mind was another question that you were sure would take control of your sleep schedule once again.

"Hello, boys," He purred, his arms moving to his side. He was back to his old self, not showing a single sign of what happened moments ago.

Had the beauty thawed the beast?

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

The blood moon is framed by the statues of Hera and Apollo in Athens, 27 July 2018 (x)

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

nasa: we're going to shoot three rockets directly at the sun during the total eclipse. for study and research purposes.

me: oh cool

nasa: we have named the rockets apep. this stands for atmospheric perturbations [in the] eclipse path.

me: oh cool

nasa: apep is also the ancient egyptian deity of chaos and darkness, who ceaselessly seeks to extinguish the sun. we launch these rockets directly at the sun in the name of apep.

me: oh... cool?

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Don't get stuck on a scene

Not in the mood to write the scene you’re working on? Don’t worry about it! Make some notes and move on.

There is no shame in just jotting down the main points in a scene and revisiting it later. It’s ok to just not be feeling it sometimes.

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

#peter 'i'm a little shit' venkman strikes again

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark AVENGERS: ENDGAME (2019), directed by Anthony Russo & Joe Russo

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

ღ Love Languages

Summary: The love language of Liam Neeson characters ღ

ICYMI: A love language is the way a person prefers to express their love and or receive it from a partner. There is no one right way to love!

Warnings: f!reader, mdni, 18+

Acts of Service - (Rob Roy)

He loves being the head of the house and the provider for you and your family

He never stifles the chance to do some heavy lifting if it means a happier wife is waiting for him

Pride swells in his chest when he watches the burning logs he chopped hours earlier warm you in the dead of night

Seeing him tend to cattle and use his whip to tame horses stirs something within you

He recognizes the labor you perform in the home and feels like it is only right to take some of that burden off of you

One day he sees you washing pottery and comes up behind you at the water basin to "help" but starts kissing up your hairline

"I'm trying to work here" you giggle out as he wrap his has from around your frame to take the pottery out of your hands to place on the ground

He turns you around to face him, your hands covered in suds, and he looks to you with pure adoration

He thought of the best service he could give you: another child

He wouldn't rest until you were waddling around the house with the swell of your belly serving as a reminder of his love for you - being able to wait on you hand and foot as you make him a father

Quality Time - (Carl Wayne Anderson: Suspect)

You met Carl in the county jail when you were assigned to his case as a public defender

from then on he liked being around you, be it in one on one meetings or by your side during trial

A shy smile is buried under his thick beard when you stay an extra two hours with him to prepare for a hearing the next day

He's learning to write more legibly for trial, for you

You have so much patience, he thinks, never giving up on him when he flips a 'b' to a 'd' or gets made at himself for mistakes and lashes out (never on you)

He feels a warmth that radiates off of you, drawing him closer, feeling less on edge regarding his surroundings and judgmental jurors

You are also one of the only people who keep eye contact with him when speaking. So many people are intimidated by him but you meet his gaze with compassion

When he gets an unexpected visitors notice over the weekend he isn't surprised to see you there with a thick binder of exhibits to go over, takeout food, and a new packet of chalk

Time is always fleeting and delicate, but that pressure was amplified knowing Carl was on trial and risking time in prison

You two never had any short encounters either, always an hour or longer, though he wished you could stay forever

Receiving Gifts - (Capt. Mikhail Polenin: K-19 The Widowmaker)

His long deployments at sea made him yearn for you, day in day out

To serve as a reminder of his faith and his love, he showers you with gifts of all kinds

a necklace with his initial, fragrant perfumes, silky soft nighties, and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers when he meets you at the pier

Nothing is too extravagant for a man who didn't know if he would ever see you again

You tell him he is in your thoughts every day and that you have no eyes for anyone else but he wants the world to know he is your shadow, he is your man by your side or 3,000 miles away

He also sends you love letters as often as he can

They are full of poetry and prayers to see you again

You saved each and everyone of them, keeping them safe in your jewelry box until you can hear him say them to you in person

His favorite gift you have given him was a collection of photographs of yourself. Some are headshots, or from home-movies, not to mention the nude photograph of you wearing his dog tags

You are his gift from God. You are his motivation to complete his mission. You are his motivation to live

Physical Touch - (Hannibal: The A-Team)

The man is handsy and his pent up emotions from training and deployment has him eager to touch you any way he can

He has some restraint when he is around new recruits, trying to show composure as an upper level officer with just his hand resting on the small of your back

He is a bit more loose around his team members, knowing he has earned their respect and won't lose it if they see him slightly simping over you

He'll pull you into his lap instead of a folding chair, insisting that you'd be more comfortable on his lap this way instead of the flimsy plastic

He will twirl your hair or tap a beat to your thigh absent mindedly while listening to a mate of his talk, relaxed in knowing you are there, you are actually there with him

When you are finally alone he will worship you for hours until you are overstimulated and a whimpering mess under him

He doesn't half ass any mission either, so once he has made you cum all night, he will give you the best after care, cuddling you and massaging your sore legs

He loves it when you make the first move and interlock you fingers with his on the walk from base to a pub

Feeling 10 feet tall he strides around base knowing only he can touch you, only he can get close enough to smell your hair, caress your skin, taste your desperation and love

Leaving you is like tearing off a limb for him, but he'll squeeze you tight to embed in his memory your edges, your fit in his arms

Words of Affirmation - (Qui-Gon Jinn: Star Wars)

He lives by his comm link so you never are too far away

You are concerned that your calls are annoying but he assures you are music to his ears to hear about your day, a funny story, or to lull him to sleep with a song

He reads constantly to find new words to express his love for you. Deeper, sensual praise that you could never forget about and have only heard Qui-Gon use

There is never a day when he doesn't say good morning and good night, letting you know you are the first and last thing he thinks of each day

Pet names are reserved for you, rarely does he give that affection to outsiders (he still has love for Obi and Ani)

Praise kink!!

His cadence in bed, the tempo his words follow to punctuate his movements are delicious

When he hears you whimper and thank him for being so caring he thinks he could cum in his pants right then and there

You are in ecstasy when he talks you through your high and climax together

He says "I love you" more often then he breathes, since you are his life line