#fanficrecommend

[zosanficrecs]

"Utilities included" by strawhattery

~114k Rated E

[burntsecrets]

favorite crime

Pairing: Galadriel x Halbrand x Sauron

Word Count: 1267

Prompt: I thought of this story idea while driving home and listening to “Favorite Crime” by Olivia Rodrigo.

Summary: Galadriel grapples with accepting Halbrand's true identity as Sauron and the fact that everything between them was a lie. Or was it? 

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2, betrayal, emotional manipulation, psychological trauma, self-blame, heartbreak, implied violence, fall from height, grief, identity deception, toxic relationships, existential crisis, power dynamics, introspection on trust and betrayal, disillusionment

The storm had not yet passed when Galadriel stood alone on the cliff's edge, her golden hair whipped by the winds that howled like wraiths. Below, the sea churned and frothed, dark and unforgiving as the memories that haunted her. She had once found solace in these waters, but now they only served as a reminder of what had been lost—and what had been betrayed.

Halbrand.

No—Sauron.

The name was a blade that cut deeper than any sword. She had known him under the guise of a king, a broken man seeking redemption, just as she had sought her own. Together, they had formed an unspoken bond, forged in the fires of battle and tempered in shared ambition. They had walked side by side, the weight of destiny heavy on their shoulders, and in those moments, Galadriel had allowed herself to hope—to believe that maybe, just maybe, there could be peace.

She had let herself hope—truly hope—for the first time in an age. He had seemed different, a kindred soul bound by loss and a desire to set the world right. He had been a warrior at her side, the strength she had leaned on when her own faltered. They had stood as equals—or so she had believed.

She remembers the moment after the battle when the dust had yet to settle, and the skies above were still blackened with smoke. Their victory had been hard-fought, their enemies defeated, and for one brief, fragile moment, she had allowed herself to feel something other than her endless drive for vengeance. 

Halbrand had looked at her then, his eyes searching hers with a kind of intensity that made her chest tighten. “What we did today,” he had said, his voice rough, ragged with the weariness of battle, but also something more. “Fighting side by side with you... I’ve never felt anything like it. I’ve never felt more alive.”

His words had struck something deep within her, something buried beneath layers of grief and anger. It was the same for her. In that moment, with him, she had felt alive too—more than she had in centuries. She had wanted to tell him then, to put words to the storm of emotions that had swirled between them. And she had. Against all her better judgment, she had whispered, “I felt it too.” And she had felt it too—the connection, the spark, the fire that had burned between them.

But that hope had been a lie. He had been a lie.

A lie he had wrapped around her, like chains forged from her own longing. He had let her believe they were fighting the same battle, for the same cause. He had let her believe that he was someone worth saving, someone who could be redeemed. 

But the man she had fought beside wasn’t real. He was a mask, a deception so carefully crafted that even she, with all her wisdom, had been fooled.

She closes her eyes against the stinging wind, but it cannot shield her from the memories. The feel of his hand gripping hers as they sailed to Númenor, the way he had stood at her side in council, his presence a quiet strength she had come to depend on. She had been a willing accomplice, trusted him with parts of herself she had sworn to keep hidden. She had let him into her heart, her mind—had let him believe that he could be something other than what he truly was. She had given him the power to hurt her, and he had done so without hesitation.

It had been foolish, a weakness she could not afford. And now, she paid the price.

Her heart pounds as the memory of their last confrontation resurfaces. The way his true nature had unfurled before her like a storm cloud on the horizon. His face—the last thing she saw before she fell— eyes wide, lips parted in shock. She had thought, for a fleeting moment, that he was reaching for her. But as the bitter truth sank in, she knew better. He wasn’t reaching for her. He was reaching for the ring clutched in her hand.

She remembers falling, the cold air biting at her skin, her body hurtling toward the churning sea below. The storm above her, the chaos in her mind, all of it blurred together as she clung to the one truth that shattered her: Halbrand was an illusion, and Sauron had been there all along.

And yet... she had let him in.

How could I have been so blind?

She hits the ground harder than she expected, her body shuddering on impact, but it’s the pain in her heart that sears the most. When her eyes flutter open, the storm still rages above, the wind howling, and yet, there is a moment of quiet within her—a cold, sinking realization. Sauron hadn’t been reaching for her. He was reaching for the power she held, the power that could tip the balance of Middle-earth into darkness. He had used her as he had used everyone.

She sits up, her fingers still gripping the ring, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The ache inside her chest is heavy, and yet, the betrayal has sharpened her, hardened her. She had fallen for his lies, for his false promises, for the man she thought he could be.

But now, all she feels is a hollow emptiness where hope once resided.

The sea roars beneath her, and she rises on trembling legs, her gaze locking on the horizon. She wonders, not for the first time if he had ever truly cared. If the betrayal was hers alone to bear. Did he regret it? Did he feel anything for her at all?

The answer comes to her with a cold clarity. No. Sauron felt nothing but the insatiable hunger for power, and she had been a pawn in his game. Her loyalty, her trust—he had used them against her, twisted them to his will, until she had crossed lines she swore she never would. She had defended him when she should have walked away, stood by his side when others saw the truth she had refused to see.

Her loyalty had been unwavering. And for what?

For this moment—standing at the edge of the world, the taste of betrayal bitter on her tongue and the knowledge that she had loved the lie he had spun so masterfully.

Even now, as the storm echoes around her, she cannot fully shake the connection they had shared. It lingers, like a shadow, whispering in the back of her mind—a bond built on lies, but real enough to hurt, real enough to scar. Despite everything, despite the betrayal that had cut so deep, she had loved him—loved the man she thought he was. And worse, part of her still does. 

“How foolish I have been,” she thinks, the wind tugging at her as if it wants to pull her into the sea. But she will not let it claim her. No, not yet. Sauron may have left her broken, but she would not remain that way.

She had fought for him once, fought for the man he had pretended to be. Now, she would fight against him. Because despite everything, despite the lies, she would undo the darkness he had left in his wake.

The storm rages on, and so does she.

But even now, as she walks away from the cliff’s edge, there’s a part of her that knows the truth—the cruelest truth of all.

She had been his favorite crime.

And worse still, he had been hers.

[sarejima]

I CONCUR WITH THIS PERSON AND THEIR WONDERFUL ART. PLEASE GO. GOOOOOO.

last drawing of the year and I just HAD to do something from the amazing fic "Baby, Just Say Yes" by @shortstackedkyman ughghghghfjdhgjdfhg if you're not reading it WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR LIFE

[metamehta]

✨️Fanfiction✨️

The One Where "Nothing Happened" But Everyone Saw It by LoveIsStrong

Have you ever watched period dramas and wondered what other people saw when the main characters were going through their shenanigans? If so - I have just the fanfic for you!

There's only one chapter up for this story so far, but I love how lighthearted this fic is.

Q: Have you read stories that showed you canon events from another person's perspective before? Is this a premise you like reading?

Let me know in the comments!

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#fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgertononnetflix #kanthony #katesharma #anthonybridgerton #footmanjohn #bridgertonseries #bridgertonseason2 #ensemblecast #archiveofourown #ao3 #ao3fanfiction #fanfic #fanficrecommendation #comedy #upstairsdownstairs #fluff #readersgonnaread📚 #readwithdee #reading #readingtime #fanfictionreaders

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[clarislam]

Fanfiction Recommendations Of 2023

My Fanfiction Recommendations Of 2023 are finally here! Check out today's post to see what fanfics I recommend reading. #fanfiction, #fanficrecs, #fanficrecommendations, #fanfictionrecommendationsof2023

Hello, readers! Many of you that followed me for a while know that I read and write fanfiction. Granted, I started focusing much less on fanfiction and more on original works since May 2023 this year, but I still read lots of fanfiction. Much like the previous recommendation posts, I wanted to recommend five fanfics that I enjoyed reading this year! The following fanfics I recommend, in no…

[bananafishdepression]

Hi!!! So since I've watched Banana Fish I started reading fanfics like crazy which is a few months ago, and even now I spend most of my day reading some, so here are some

Banana Fish fanfic recommendation part 1

Kitten and Snuggle Bear by signpainter1

It's an AU about the gang meeting Boss' boyfriend and I'm not gonna write much about it here because everything's a spoiler lol anyways you should read it yourself because it's adorable and comforting I swear

Sonnet 20 by voidstamps

Basically Ash and Eiji meet at a gay bar and flirt with eachother like little dorks in love. Lol. It's cute. Read it.

Banana Fish Short Stories <3 by KayD595

Ash's doing his work when Eiji sits next to him and does his own things, and Ash just chills until he finally looks up at Eiji and notices something different. There's a little smut at the end but it's not kinky or sexualised, Ash was just being bastard lol.

The Lottery by signpainter1

Eiji's gone for a week and it's up to Ash's gang to wake him up everyday, which isn't easy if Ash doesn't have a soft spot for you. It's hilarious and so cute at the end, pls read 🥺

the adventures of adults who aren't all that cool and children who need better role models by greyn

This shit is funny AF and if you're sad over Banana Fish AGAIN like everyone in this angsty fandom, then you need to read this to cure your sadness. It's about Ash and Eiji being love dorks, Sing and Yue calling them out and Shorter being Shorter. Oh, there's also their children.

Anyway, I'll share some more probably tomorrow I've got a whole list lol, you can find all these on AO3. These are short stories that are comforting and giving therapy which this fandom desperately needs lol bye.

[lopazroyale]

People! I found something! Amazing!! So help me look for FIC like this!!!!!!!

#harrymort #tomarry #fanficrecommended #helpmefindfanficslikethis

a fic for @shelter-maki0 inspired by their beautiful art on twitter

It was a trap. Of course it was. Bloody Death Eaters and the bloody Dark Lord. Snakes, always setting traps. It achingly reminded Harry of Tom. However, he had his Invisibility Cloak. He was fine. Only Tom could sometimes — always — find Harry beneath it. He never told Harry how, simply that he always felt when Harry was near. It had been sweet to know that even when Harry thought he was invisible to the rest of the world, Tom would be able to see him. But Tom was gone. Most likely dead — Harry clenched his eyes shut, shaking his head. No. He couldn’t think about Tom now. He had to get away from Lord Voldemort first.  He could hear him, somewhere behind him, trailing after him. Maybe he was more snake than man. Maybe he could smell Harry. How else would he be able to track him so well?  Harry did not dare turn around, gripping the Cloak tight, controlling his breathing as best as he could. Harry advanced forward, away from the dark wizard, walking under the clear, starry night. There was a blue saturation to the night tonight, the moon’s shine a mixture of blues and silvers. Harry turned around, checking for signs of Voldemort. There was nobody on the field anymore. Maybe he gave up. There was a sound of splitting, tearing, shimmering cloth, like water was cut. The starry cloth of the Invisibility Cloak from shoulders down fell in a heap on the floor, revealing most of Harry’s body.  Panicking, Harry turned, and saw black robes in front of him. It was all the time he had before a face ducked under his Invisibility Cloak, entering Harry’s space. Large, skeletal, white hands cupped his cheeks, the pads of their fingers settling on the back of his nape, turning Harry’s face up. A serpentine, white face stood above him. Shining, red, cat-like eyes stared down into his own. Harry’s breath caught, his limbs freezing.  “I found you, Harry.” whispered Lord Voldemort, his voice silky, soft as the quiet night around them.  The wizard was close, too close. Only Tom had ever been this close.  “I told you I can always see you under it.” said Voldemort.  Harry’s mind jammed. See him? No. That could not be. Only Tom could... Harry frowned, staring up at the skeletal face. The last time he’d seen Tom, he had looked waxen and his voice had become colder... And his eyes... The hands held his face gently. Harry's stomach dropped. “Tom?” he breathed quietly, unable to think of anything else. Voldemort smiled, and it was Tom's smile, and Harry couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, his heart was beating inside his throat and head and — Tears were slipping down his face. “Shhh,” murmured Voldemort, a near caress of a whisper, catching Harry’s tears with his long nails. “It’s all right. I’ve found you, Harry.” Under the Invisibility Cloak and the stars, Voldemort closed the distance, pressing a tender kiss to Harry’s mouth.  Yes. Harry knew that kiss. Harry kissed back.

[icepower55]

Variations on Intimacy

moodboard by the absolutely lovely @sumbul

ao3

[thebookshelfmonster]

"In the aftermath, Remus would attend funerals. He would dig holes and bury wolves nobody cared for. He would find secure packs for the ones left behind. And he would be the only Order member not to receive an Order of Merlin, despite Dumbledore’s best attempts. After all, Remus found, the world had not changed so much that even a monster on your side could be seen as anything other than a monster, waiting to turn." - when covered in snow, sarewolf on AO3 AO3 writer sarewolf has done it again. Their new marauders alternate universe wolfstar fanfic from Remus Lupin's pov is barely five chapters in and I find myself already immersed into the story and characters. Truly, the only other writer who does justice to the complexity and poignancy of being Remus Lupin is probably the legendary @mskingbean89 author of All the Young Dudes. If you enjoyed All the Young Dudes, you will love sarewolf's other now completed fic "that's the art of getting by", in which Remus gets custody of baby Harry and Sirius is found to be innocent. Things seem to be looking up, but the ugliness of past betrayals and bitterness of unresolved emotions still need to be dealt with. Sarewolf's current work "when covered in snow" is set in a different timeline where, as the tagline warns, "Just because everybody lives, doesn’t mean nobody is hurt." (Also featured in the back, the book I should be reading and am not.) #ao3 #fanfiction #wolfstar #marauders #au #otp #mlm #harrypotterfanfiction #queerfantasy #remuslupin #siriusblack #alltheyoungdudes #atyd #mskingbean89 #sarewolf #theartofgettingby #fanficrecommendation #bookstagram #bookrecommendations #bookstagrammer #readersofinstagram #ishouldbestudying https://www.instagram.com/p/Cd42ZlXLoDG/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[zosanficrecs]

"Guard down" by abandonedstrawberry

~22k Rated E

[srorgana1]

#fanficrecommendation #noahsebastian #badomens

Miracle

Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her.

She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

IN PROGRESS

*smut

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE* | SIX | SEVEN* | EIGHT | NINE | TEN * | ELEVEN |

[bellasmumblingsandmusings]

Teaser Tuesday/WIP Wednesday!

Tagging @nyx-knox @roguishcat @bardic-inspo @bloodinwine No pressure! Give me a teaser of what you are working on! Because I post

What Could Have Been on Weds, I am gonna try and do these on Tuesdays!

SPOILERS Ahead! For Chapter 13!

Astarion hadn’t expected such swiftness from her; he had envisioned her drawing it out—turning it into a game. But the boldness of her action struck him like a spark to tinder, igniting a primal hunger within him. His eyes roved over her, unabashedly drinking in every curve, every shadow. “Very good,” he murmured, his grin widening, his gaze darkening with unspoken promises. “But I’m afraid that’s only the beginning... I want all of it, pet.” Sima leaned back further into the chair, draping her legs over one of the arms, her body arching in a languid stretch that was as provocative as it was defiant. Her hair spilled down one side, her back curving elegantly against the chair’s cushion. “Oh... I suppose you mean this last, inconvenient scrap of lace.” She gestured to the thin black thong at her hips, a teasing smile curling her lips. “I might take it off... perhaps. Or maybe,” she purred, eyes locking onto his with a tantalizing glint, “you should come over here and use those pretty teeth of yours.”

Chapter 13 drops tomorrow! Weds Sept 11 2024 Chapters on Tumblr: Prologue, 1 , 2 , 3 , Interlude, 4 , 5 , 6, 7, 8 , 9 , 10 Interlude 2 , 11 , 12

Entire Story Link on AO3

Spotify Playlist

[burntsecrets]

Dodging Cupid's Arrows

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 2630

Prompt: Cupid's Got A Shotgun by Carrie Underwoods

Summary: An encounter with Cupid forces you to face your feelings for the Winchester Brothers.

Warnings: Emotional hurt/comfort, unresolved romantic tension, fear of emotional vulnerability, self-doubt, internal conflict, unrequited love, intense emotional introspection, defensive behavior, discussion of emotional scars, mentions of past relationship trauma, slow burn, protective behavior, Cupid intervention, romantic frustration.

The bar’s dim, sputtering light casts a weak glow overhead, barely illuminating the worn wooden tables and the scuffed floor beneath your boots. Shadows cling to the walls like old memories, and you sink deeper into your chair, swirling the last of your whiskey in the glass before taking a slow sip. The liquid burns as it slides down your throat, spreading a fleeting warmth through your chest, but it does nothing to calm the storm raging in your head. It never does.

It’s the same pattern every time, isn’t it? Men with honeyed words slip into your life, leaving behind promises as thin as smoke, promises they never intend to fulfill. Before you know it, you're left standing in the wreckage of something that wasn’t even real, just a mirage of what could have been. All those "almosts" stack up like bricks, weighing heavy on your heart, and even though you’ve never had a real relationship, it feels like you've been left shattered more times than you can count.

The scars are there, even if no one else can see them. They linger in every moment a guy brushes you off, in the hollow smile you force when you know it's not real. You feel the sting in every glance that sizes you up like you’re a prize to be won rather than a person to know. So you’ve built your walls, layering them high and thick until nothing, no one, can break through. Not even him.

Or them.

Sam and Dean Winchester—they didn’t just walk into your life. No, they crashed into it, two forces of nature that bulldozed right through your carefully constructed defenses, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in a way you swore you’d never be again. At first, you tried to play it cool, act like they were just hunters, comrades in arms. But the months blurred together, and now you can’t even tell how long it’s been. And that scares you because losing track means losing control and losing control means letting them in.

And letting them in? That’s not an option.

Even now, you can feel their eyes on you, the weight of their presence lingering in the air like a storm cloud ready to break. Sam’s by the pool table, his lean, tall frame moving with practiced ease as he lines up shot after shot. There’s a calm to him, but it’s the kind that keeps you on edge, like he could switch in an instant and suddenly be dangerous. Then there’s Dean, perched at the bar with a half-empty beer in hand, his eyes flicking between the room and you, constantly scanning for threats, always watching. 

Always watching you.

They’re protective. It should comfort you, but it drives you insane. Because the truth is, no matter how many monsters they face, no matter how many battles they fight, they can’t protect you from what matters most. They can’t protect you from yourself.

You think back to the last hunt, to the ridiculousness of it all—a damn Cupid, of all things. The little winged freak zeroed in on you from the moment you stepped into that abandoned church, those bright, beady eyes tracking you with unnerving precision. He wasn’t cute, not like the Valentine's Day cards would have you believe. No, this thing was more like a demented cherub, armed with arrows dipped in cosmic mischief, and he had you in his crosshairs. You could feel it in the air—the tug, the weight, as though Cupid himself was hell-bent on forcing you to confront feelings you’d buried so deep even you were beginning to forget they existed. Each arrow he loosed sent your heart racing, as if you could sense the emotional mess he was trying to weave. But you dodged them all, every last one, determined not to let some glorified matchmaker unravel everything you’d worked so hard to lock away.

You're not stupid. You know precisely what the little bastard was aiming for. It’s not like you’ve been blind to the way Sam’s gaze lingers on you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, soft and curious, like he’s trying to piece you together. Or the way Dean’s jaw tightens, a flicker of possessiveness in his green eyes, whenever some random guy at a bar edges too close, his whole demeanor shifting to silent warning. You’ve been dodging these unspoken glances for months now, sidestepping their care, their questions, like someone dancing around a minefield. Because you know that once you stop moving, it’ll all explode in your face.

And you’ve had enough explosions in your life.

But there’s only so much running you can do before the inevitable catches up.

“Hey.”

Dean’s gravelly voice slices through the whirlwind of your thoughts, rough but steady, anchoring you as he slides into the seat beside you. His presence is a weight that presses into the air, solid, almost suffocating in its certainty. The chair creaks beneath him, but all you hear is the pounding of your own heartbeat, thundering in your chest.

“Are you alright?” He’s asking, but it’s more than that. It’s the question beneath the question, the one you’ve been dodging for longer than you can remember.

Your heart skips a beat—a betraying thud that echoes in the hollowness you’ve tried to keep locked down. You’d never admit it, not even to yourself, but he makes it impossible to pretend. You glance at him, careful to keep your face neutral, masking the fluttering in your chest with a look you’ve perfected over years of pretending. It’s almost second nature by now—the practiced nonchalance. But with Dean, it’s always been different.

There’s something in the way his green eyes bore into yours, piercing through the walls you’ve built brick by brick, layer by layer. It’s as though he sees right past your armor, straight into that small, fragile part of you that still aches for something real. Something more. But you can’t let him see that. You won’t. So you shove it down, hard, pushing that flicker of vulnerability back into the shadows as you lean casually into your chair. Your body language distant, closed off.

“Yeah,” you shrug, the lie slipping from your lips as easily as breathing. “Just tired. Long day.”

Dean doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, just watches you with that familiar intensity, and you know—you know—he doesn’t believe a word you’re saying. He’s seen you fight, seen you bleed, seen you crawl out of the wreckage of hunts that should’ve killed you. He’s seen you at your worst, and somehow, he still sticks around. He and Sam both do, and that’s the problem, isn’t it? They’ve gotten too close, wedged themselves into your life in ways that make it impossible for you to keep pretending.

Pretending that you don’t care.

Pretending that the way Dean looks at you doesn’t unravel something deep inside.

From across the room, you feel Sam’s eyes on you. His quiet gaze tracks the shift in the atmosphere as he casually leans his pool cue against the table and makes his way over, long strides slow but purposeful. His expression is calm and unreadable, but you see the concern in the tightness of his jaw and the subtle way his brow furrows as he joins Dean at your side.

“You’ve been quiet,” Sam says softly, folding his arms across his broad chest. There’s no judgment in his tone, just that frustrating gentleness, the kind that makes you feel seen when you’d rather stay hidden. “Is it… about earlier? With Cupid?”

The mention of Cupid sends a sharp twist through your stomach. You swallow, forcing down the surge of emotions that threatens to rise, burying it beneath layers of practiced indifference. You won’t let some stupid angel with a bow and arrow undo everything you’ve worked so hard to keep locked away. You won’t.

“I’m fine,” you snap, the words slipping out too fast, too harsh. The crack in your voice betrays you. “That was nothing. Just another hunt.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, and you can feel the weight of Sam’s stare, too, both of them pinning you with that all-too-familiar look. The one that says they’re not buying your crap, the one that makes your pulse quicken, and your chest tighten. You hate that look because it leaves you nowhere to hide.

“Bullshit.” Dean’s voice is low, steady, cutting through the silence with calm certainty. He takes a long sip from his beer, but his eyes never leave yours, and it feels like he’s peeling back every layer you’ve carefully put up to protect yourself. “You’ve been dodging that thing like it was the plague, and don’t think we didn’t notice.”

You clench your hands into fists in your lap, frustration bubbling up like a rising tide. “Look,” you say, your voice sharp, defensive. “I don’t need some magical arrow telling me how I’m supposed to feel. I’m fine the way I am.”

Sam shifts beside Dean, his arms still crossed, but you see the way the muscle in his jaw tenses, the way his hazel eyes soften as they search yours. “It’s not about what you’re supposed to feel,” he murmurs, his voice quiet but firm. “It’s about what you do feel.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, it’s all too much. The weight of their concern, the intensity of their gaze, the truth that they’re trying to force you to admit—it presses down on you until you can’t breathe. You stand up abruptly, the legs of the chair scraping loudly against the floor as you push it back. The sound is harsh, jarring in the quiet of the bar, but you barely notice.

“I don’t feel anything, okay?” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “Not for you, not for him, not for anyone. And I won’t let some winged freak tell me otherwise.”

The tension in the air thickens, suffocating, hanging between the three of you like a storm cloud ready to break. Dean stands up slowly, his movements deliberate, his face carefully neutral, but there’s something in his eyes—something raw, something that cuts deeper than you want to admit. Hurt, maybe. Disappointment. You can’t think about it. You won’t.

“Y’know,” Dean says quietly, taking a step toward you, his voice low and steady, “you keep saying that, but you don’t believe it. Not really.” He’s close now, too close, the heat of his body radiating off him in waves, and it makes your pulse spike. “You’re just scared.”

Your heart slams against your ribs, your breath catching in your throat. Fear coils tightly around your chest, but not the fear of them. No, it’s the fear of what they’re asking you to do. To let them in. To trust them. To stop running.

And running is all you know how to do.

“I’m not scared,” you whisper, but the words feel weak and empty, even to you.

Dean’s lips twitch into a small, humorless smile, his eyes softening just a fraction as he watches you. “Yeah, you are,” he says, his voice gentler now but no less intense. “And that’s okay. But maybe it’s time you stopped running from it.”

Sam steps closer, his presence steady and calm, grounding you in a way that you don’t want to admit you need. His voice is soft, full of quiet understanding, but there’s an unshakable strength beneath it. “You don’t have to do this alone, y’know,” he says. “We’re here. We always have been.”

The words sink into you, settling deep into the cracks of your carefully guarded heart, and something inside you shifts. Just a little. It’s terrifying, the idea of trusting them, of letting yourself hope, but there’s also something achingly beautiful about it. About the possibility that maybe, for once, you don’t have to be the one to leave first. That maybe, you don’t have to protect yourself from the inevitable heartbreak.

But still, the fear—the bone-deep, soul-crushing fear of opening up, of letting someone in only to be left behind again—is overwhelming and paralyzing.

“I can’t,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper now, trembling under the weight of the truth you’re too afraid to admit. “I can’t risk it.”

Dean’s hand reaches out slowly, cautiously, like he knows one wrong move could send you running. But he doesn’t stop. His fingers, calloused from years of hunting, gently find yours, and instead of just holding your wrist, he entwines his fingers with yours, locking them together with a quiet but unspoken promise. The touch is soft yet firm, his thumb grazing the back of your hand in slow, soothing strokes, as if he’s trying to reassure you with every heartbeat. The warmth of his skin against yours sends a shiver up your spine, igniting something deep inside you, something you’ve kept buried for so long you almost forgot it was there.

You feel the weight of his presence settle over you like a blanket, heavy with meaning, but there’s nothing suffocating about it. It’s grounding, steady—safe. And yet, that safety terrifies you because it’s the kind you’ve convinced yourself you don’t deserve. But Dean, he isn’t giving you a choice. Not this time.

His other hand comes up slowly, his movements deliberate and gentle, as if he’s afraid you might bolt at any second. His palm cups your cheek, warm and rough, but his touch is tender, almost reverent. His thumb brushes across your cheekbone, wiping away a tear you didn’t realize had fallen. The simple motion cracks something inside you, and for a moment, it feels like the walls you’ve built so carefully over the years are crumbling under the weight of his touch.

"Maybe you’re not the only one taking a risk here," Dean murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, barely above a whisper. His words hang between you, heavy and raw, filled with all the things he’s never said but has always felt. His eyes search yours, and in them, you see it—the longing, the fear, the desperate hope that you’ll stay, that you’ll finally let them in. That you’ll choose them.

You feel your breath catch in your throat as his fingers tighten ever so slightly around yours, anchoring you to the moment. His thumb continues its slow, tender sweep across your cheek, and the tenderness in his gaze is enough to break your heart. This man, this infuriating, stubborn, protective man, who has fought demons and monsters and everything in between, is standing here with his heart wide open, asking you to stop running. Asking you to be with him and his brother in a way that terrifies you more than any hunt ever could.

For the first time, you feel the weight of what’s at stake—not just for you, but for him, for Sam. This isn’t just about you being afraid of getting hurt. It’s about them too, about the risk they’re taking by loving you, by wanting you to be a part of their lives. And it hits you with such force that you almost can’t breathe. They aren’t asking for your walls to come down—they’re asking to stand beside them. To hold you through the fear, through the pain, through whatever comes next.

You stare up at Dean, his hand still cradling your face like you’re something precious, and for the first time, you allow yourself to wonder—really wonder—if maybe, just maybe, you’re not the only one with something to lose.

Because you can feel it now—the risk they’re taking, the way they’re holding their breath, waiting for your answer, waiting for you to finally say yes. And in that moment, you realize that they’ve already decided. They’ve already chosen you.

It’s your turn to choose them.

taglist // @spnfanficpond @spnfans

[1lostone]

kayson || Time in Company || Teen ||IronStrange ||https://archiveofourown.org/works/36044875#main I have such a crazy need for Tony trying to awkwardly make things better that is probably an issue, but fortunately, I also have amazingly adorable little fics like this to feel it out. I love Tony as a mentor to Peter, and I lost my damn mind when Stephen kind of casually does the one up one down when Tony visits to make sure he's not harmed. This is super fluffy (as much as those two can be fluffy) and just an all 'round feel-good fic. #kayson #mcu #marvel #ironstrange #tonystark #stephenstrange #ironman #drstrange #fanfiction #fanficrecommendation #ficrecs #ao3 https://www.instagram.com/p/Cbdv7O6syiF/?utm_medium=tumblr

[metamehta]

✨️Fanfiction✨️

eleven:eleven by wheresmejumper

Just before I got into a reading slump (more on this later), I read eleven:eleven. For those who know my fanfiction tastes, I LOVE time-travel stories ( and stories about the Black brothers). But typically the time travel stories involve HP characters going back in time.

In this case we have characters going forward and I really love how that's changed the dynamic. So far this story has stuck with the stations of canon but I can't wait to see where this story goes.

Q: If you had the chance to go time travel - would you go back to the past or go to the future? Why?

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#fanfiction #harrypotter #harrypotterfanfiction #hpfanfic #siriusblack #regulusblack #gryffindor #timetravel #harrypotterfanfic #ao3 #archiveofourown #readersofig #bookstagram #fanfiction #fanfics #read #reading #fanficrecommendation #fanfictionreader #harrypotterworld #harrypotterandthephilosophersstone #harrypotterandthechamberofsecrets #readwithdee #hermionegranger #ronweasley #colincreevey #ginnyweasley

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[bottomcas-ficrecs]

Cas’s Favorite Fics Rec

These are my favorite Fics that I hope everyone enjoys. Please support the writers and show love to their hard work to writing stories for us. :D

MULTI-CHAPTER

All Things In Succession by everandanon

The Sacrifice of Our Enmity by elizaye

Wait For Me by Zacia

The Space Between (Me and You) by Filmsterr

Reckless Faith by OneHundredSuns

A Graced Kingdom by angvlicmish

A Safe Mooring by apkidd

Love In A Truck Stop Bathroom by DarknessBound

My Liege Lord by jhoom

The Fae Child by hollyblue2

Expectations by everandanon

Junkless by EarthOddity67

Lock and Key by tricia_16

A Baby For Christmas by DyslexicSquirrel

Like Cats and Dogs by sweetdean

The Claim by thatwriterlady

Lover by casbean

Convergence by FallenAquarian

A Hunter’s Prey by alpineshoodratt

The Choice by RedheadedSuperhero

Alpha and Omega: Genesis by KiwiChick42

Office Romance by Dean_can_ride_my_impala

Sophomore Slump by fanfic814

The Ed Sheeran Effect by tricia_16

The Bones Beneath Our Skin by DarknessBound

The Thursday Chronicles by SertralineDream and xHaruka17x

The Cul De Sac by xHaruka17x

Buying An Alpha by xHaruka17x

Alpha Spunk by Destielshipper4Cas

Wolf Snuggles by Destielshipper4Cas

US Alpha Race Championship by Destielshipper4Cas

Mated by Destielshipper4Cas

The Alpha Next Door by Destielshipper4Cas

Promises Made, Promises Kept by ORPHAN ACCOUNT

Let It Be Me by queenannabethwinchester (ORPHAN ACCOUNT)

ONE-SHOTS

He Bids Good-bye to Distance by60rd0m

Fresh by justanotherbusyfangirl

Conflux by AngerProbFemme

Omega Sex Bot 4 U by Destielshipper4cas

Fuck, Cas! by zation

Unplanned by fairychangeling (ORPHAN ACCOUNT)

Love In An Elevator by fairychangeling (ORPHAN ACCOUNT)

Domestic Secrets by xHaruka17x

Food Baby by SeashellDestihell

Not Enough Brain Bleach by anyrei

Loving You by thelonelywriter

Bee Informed by wbh

SERIES

Older by ILoveFANFic

Banded by unicornball

Doctor Dean by Destielshipper4Cas

Always and Only by ishipitsobad

Alpha Spunk & Omega Slick by DestielShipper4Cas

FAVORITE FANFIC AUTHORS

Destielshipper4cas

xHaruka17x

fairychangeling (ORPHAN ACCOUNT)

everandanon