anonymous asked:

Hi do you have any recommends for destiel fanfic? P.s. Your writing is amazing!

Aw, thank you so much! That means a ton, seriously!
And oh good lord have mercy… many…….since you didn’t really give any guidelines as to a specific kind, (au, canonverse, short, long, etc) I think I’m gonna make this into a sort of rec type thing (I’ve never made one but I really like making lists ja feel) It’s been a while since I read any of these, though

Summary: Wherein sleeping arrangements are awkward, Sam teaches Castiel to masturbate and Dean finds out what to do with your angel when he’s not really an angel anymore.

  • Creature of Habit by Misslucyjane on LJ   Summary: The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well.
  • Good Girl    Summary: Sam drives her to a veterinarian’s office one day, in the stolen car he is now increasingly regarding as his, and she comes back sort of sulky and depressed from having been tricked into getting a series of vaccinations.“I know the feeling,” Cas says, at floor level with her, while the puppy licks the underside of his wrist and makes sad eyes. “I was once immune to tetanus, but now I am forced to endure booster shots.” He looks over at Sam and Dean, and lowers his voice to a whisper. “They told me they were taking me to the zoo,” he says. He pets her ears. “You will learn to trust again.”
  • Carpooling by Alchemyalice   Summary This is the worst car ride in the history of ever.
  • Before and After (personal fav) Summary: In which Castiel gets cold. Dean takes it upon himself to warm him up and possibly starts to realize a few things. Sam is traumatized for life.
  • Building A Chair in Five Simple Steps by Ias Summary: Castiel discovers that “Some Assembly Required” is humanity’s one great lie. Written in response to the post “Imagine your OTP getting really confused while trying to build IKEA furniture.”
  • Red Bull by Evilexboyfriend   Summary: Red Bull gives you wings. Cas has got himself into a bit of a sticky situation and Dean can’t seem to take it seriously. PURE CRACK and shamelessly fluffy Dean/Cas.
  • Plan B as in Burger by Paperology   Summary: Dean upsets Cas and tries to apologize with fast food, but it’s not really what Cas needs… Dean/Cas

I may update this later, but I have a headache(and didn’t sleep last night) and this is all I can think of right now…I hope you enjoy these! Sorry it took my so long to post!

A click came from the door as it was being unlocked. Dean Winchester walked inside the motel room, not wanting to do anything other than sleep.

 “How was he?” his brother, Sam, asked sitting on one of the two beds. His forehead was creased with worry lines and there was a small frown on his lips.

Dean just shook his head as he locked the door.

“Dean?” Sam asked, his voice soft. His attempt in delicacy was appreciated. Dean stood in front of the door, not having turned around yet. He let his head fall back as he took in a deep breath, steadying his emotions.

“He’s getting worse, Sammy,” Dean barely managed to prevent his voice from cracking. When he turned around his brother had his arms open and was moving towards him. Dean hated this, but he accepted the hug. Hell, he needed it.

Every time Dean visited it became harder and harder to keep himself together. He started believing the worst, rather than just fearing it. Castiel was losing his memory, slowly, but surely.

Dean rapped lightly on the blue hospital door.

“Come in,” he was given in reply.

He opened the door slowly, to see a man resting just under six foot with dark hair and blue eyes standing at the foot of the hospital bed.  He was apparently doing something with the television before Dean had interrupted him.

“Oh, hello,” Castiel, the now fallen angel, greeted him. Dean tightened his lips letting his eyes fall to the floor for a moment. The tone in those words was as though Dean was just another orderly coming in to give him his check-up. He almost turned around and left right then.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean choked out.

 Castiel’s head tilted to the side as he looked over at Dean, his eyes squinting. His face burst into a smile. “Oh! It’s you.”

Dean forced out a breathy chuckle because it was better than breaking down in front of the man who was once in love with him.

“I brought you something,” Dean moved towards the bed setting the paper bag in his arms on the sheets. Castiel moved to stand beside him, slightly too close. Dean opened the bag to reveal a burger, but not just any burger, a special burger. Homemade, free-range ground sirloin with lettuce, tomatoes, ketchup, and Swiss cheese.

“How did you know this was my favorite?” Castiel beamed removing the sandwich from the bag. Dean forced a smile out while the fallen angel took a bite.

The two sat together while Castiel ate. He was the one doing most of the talking since Dean knew if he spoke his composure would betray him. Castiel explained how there was a show on the TV that he did not like and how he was trying to change it. The remote wasn’t working so he had to get up, because calling a nurse for that is just a waste. Dean simply smiled and nodded.

When he was finished they both stood and Dean offered to take his trash and Castiel smiled. Just as Dean was grabbing the trash from his hands, Castiel stopped him saying, “Wait…”

Dean bit his lip, he sounded like his Cas there briefly.

As the ex-angel held Dean’s hand, studying it, a soft and sad smile came to his lips. “Your hands,” he muttered. “Has anyone ever told you that you have wonderful hands?”

“Yes,” Dean coughed out in a half laugh, half sob.

With tears welling in his eyes he said, “You used to. All the time.”

"You’re so beautiful."

Dean blushes in the dark, snorting despite the fact that he pulls Cas closer, nuzzling his warm face in the crook of the other’s neck. “You can’t even see me, dork.”

Around them, flowers and reeds sway lazily in the midnight breeze, greenery moving in time with shooting stars overhead. The grassy cliff is so high it looks like they’re sitting in the sky, and Cas buries a hand in moonlit hair, smiling as he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of Dean’s head. “I don’t need to.” He then playfully pinches Dean’s side, lessening the blow of the compliment. “Dork.”

Dean holds tighter to his lover, brushing a kiss to his skin. He grins widely. “Nerd.”




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a cigarette you thought was gonna be your last
Skyfall || James Bond/Q || PG-13 || 1443
notes: DID SOMEONE SAY MORE SHAMELESS FLUFF? As usual, I have no explanation. Everyone should blame my waifu, though.
faorism asked for: 007 hasn’t bothered to get a place in London after they sold his, and Q offers him a bed. (He meant the one in the second room, but sharing his own wasn’t too bad a plan either…)
WARNINGS: This story contains brief spoilers for Skyfall.


The madness begins with an innocuous, “I hear you’re in the market for a new flat.”

James has been in the business long enough to be unsurprised by Q’s knowledge. He is surprised, however, when Q offers up his spare bedroom.

"My salary is quite large," Q prattles over the rim of his tea cup. "I invested in a flat with a nice view and elderly neighbors, but at the time of my purchase it did not occur to me how lonely such a place could be. You won’t be unwelcome."

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like hitting the water wrong
Free! || Hazuki Nagisa/Ryugazaki Rei || NC-17 || 769
notes: This is not dedicated to my boyfriend, who refused to tell me what splooge in his pants felt like. You think he’d be used to me asking these kinds of questions.
WARNING: this story contains mild dub-con and character embarrassment (though said embarrassment is personal rather than situational)


Without his glasses or prescription goggles, all Rei can see is the damp, golden fall of Nagisa’s hair and the blurred angle of his smile. The lack of detail does little to calm his nerves; he swallows, a difficult task when his mouth has gone dry, and drags his gaze sideways to the old metal lockers that line the walls of the changing room.

"Don’t be nervous, Rei-chan," Nagisa says. His voice is unnervingly loud in the empty space. "I’ll make you feel good."

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After the first expedition after the Titan War, he said he’d seen enough of the world - the expansion of civilisation let Levi pick a spot originally outside the walls. He grows a small selection of tea in a quiet town, living a quiet life, alone with his tea and the ache of his injuries. 

Meanwhile, Eren spearheads exploration expeditions. He always returns to Levi’s side, though - and his captain always complains, but when he sets a cup of tea down in front of Eren, his eyes are soft - the brew is always different, and there is always two scoops sugar in Eren’s cup. Eren knows that Levi doesn’t take sugar in his tea, even after plantations expanded and sugar was no longer a rarity. Eren blames the tea for the warmth in his chest, and smiles

"It was amazing, I didn’t think it’d get so cold - Here, I brought back some stuff, and Armin did some sketches. Hange also wanted me to pass this to you, Captain!" the boy chatters, happy and relaxed. The years have been kind to him, his slightly awkward body filling out as the Titan-shifter grew. He’d gotten taller, too, Levi noted as he eyed Eren. 

"I’m not your captain anymore, Eren." he says, weary. 

Eren flushes, mumbling something that sounded like ‘I’ve never called your name before..” Levi snorts, and tells Eren to not be an idiot.

The sound Eren’s lips around two syllables Le-vi, shy and soft, is remarkably sweet.


He keeps everything Eren brings back from his expeditions, and tells himself that it’s because it’d be a waste to toss it out.


When winter comes, Eren visits, asking to stay with him for a while - (It’s too cold for the Northbound Expedition to continue their operations with the equipment they currently have).

Levi deliberates, and relents. 


Eren’s hair is long now, much like his Titan-form, and wet strands lie across his nape when he gets out of the bath. Levi tries not to notice the careless curve of Eren’s shoulders, averting his eyes.


The thing is, Eren is in love with Levi. He has been for so long, it simply has become a fact of his life that he’s completely accepted. Now that he’s older, he’s more relaxed around the man, and long years of fighting alongside each other has given Eren enough time to not stutter and blush like his 15-year-old self might have done. 

His 15 year old self has never seen Levi in soft, civilian’s clothes, though - hair damp from a bath and feet bare - he looks calm, and the rumples of his shirt are just inviting Eren to touch- 

He turns away. 


A week into Eren’s stay, he hears it. Jolted out of his bed by the sound of things crashing to the floor, Eren resists the urge to grab his gear (It’s not even there anymore, there are no Titans here, except for him) and goes instead to Levi’s room, hesitating outside the door. 

'Levi?' he calls.

There is only the sound of something being thrown at the door and shattering. Eren makes up his mind, and enters. 

Levi is crouched in a corner of the room, leg still tangled in one of his sheets. The sight makes Eren’s chest ache, and he approaches Levi warily. There is a glint of metal in his Captain’s hand - Levi is holding a knife, fingers clenched and trembling around the hilt. 

'Captain,' he tries. Levi flinches, curling in upon himself. He's close now, right in front of Levi, not yet touching. Levi's skin, already pale, is drawn tight over his bones, shadows deep cuts under his eyes. Eren places an open palm on Levi's shoulder, bracing himself for impact. 

In a whirl of grappling, Eren has been pushed down (despite his skill at hand-to-hand, he’s never beaten Levi more than a handful of times. To be fair, he isn’t trying very hard at this point, he doesn’t want to hurt Levi, not like this), Levi is leaning over him, snarling, a blade pressed hard against his throat. 

Eren closes his hands over Levi’s, despite the movement causing the skin of his neck to break against the knife’s edge. “Levi, it’s me. It’s Eren,” he tries again, pitching his voice low, soothing. His thumb rubs absentminded circles on Levi’s wrist as he waits.

Slowly, Levi seems to come back to himself. He pulls away, looking horrified, looking down at Eren sprawled on the floor before him.

"Eren," he says, hoarsely. 

Levi looks more shaken than Eren has ever seen him - and Eren can’t really formulate a reply before Levi is leaning down again, a deep furrow between his eyebrows.

"Fuck, I cut you. You okay?" he says, shaky.

Eren nods as he replies, moving to grip Levi’s forearm - whether to anchor himself or Levi, he doesn’t know - “It’ll heal soon, I’m okay.” 

"Fuck, brat, don’t -" 

"Don’t tell me to ignore you if I hear that the next time, Captain. You know there’s no way in hell I can do that. You know I won’t, Levi." 

Levi grits his teeth in irritation, moving to stand. He pulls Eren up, and produces a damp cloth from somewhere to wipe at Eren’s mostly healed neck, tossing the knife aside in distaste. Eren watches as Levi sits heavily on his bed, palms dragging over his eyes in frustration and exhaustion.

"Does this happen often?" Eren asks softly. 

Levi exhales, saying nothing. Eren takes that as a yes. He approaches Levi again, and Levi’s hands are still trembling. Without thinking, he takes one of Levi’s hands in his own, rubbing his palms over them to warm them - Levi stiffens, but allows the contact. 

"Eren," Levi begins, but Eren cuts him off. 

"I love you. You’ve got to know that. I don’t care, captain. Unless you say you never want to see my face again, I’m going to stay." He looks up at Levi, and his face is honest - as it always is - green eyes bright in the dim of Levi’s room, bright and serious and earnest, and Levi’s chest is aching - "Let me help." 

I am old and broken and far too little for someone like you, Eren, he thinks but does not say, but somehow it looks like Eren understands anyways, looking like Levi in a way that makes him want to hide, to never look Eren in the eyes again, but Eren is moving again, drawing closer, and the boy is so warm -

The press of dry lips to his own is soft, but sure. When Eren pulls back, he looks calm, waiting for Levi to react. Levi exhales, shoulders slumping as he leans forward to rest his forehead against Eren’s, exhausted. His hands in Eren’s are warm now, so he moves to grip Eren’s shoulders, kunckles aching with the movement.

Eren moves with him, quietly observing him, allowing Levi to touch, fingertips dragging over Eren’s cheek, Eren’s ear, Eren’s neck - Eren, alive and whole like a miracle. The feel of his hair - now so long it was almost unfamiliar - is cool and smooth under the callouses of his fingers, and Eren’s eyes drift closed as Levi scrapes his fingers over his scalp.

"Levi," Eren whispers, eyes dark, hopeful.

Levi relents.

Eren stays.


A/N: Maybe I just need them to find solace in the end. Half a week till break, guys. ;A;

Castiel squints at his list as he mentally check off each item: pasta, three kiwis, thyme honey, wildflower honey, Greek honey, regular honey. Eyeing his basket and ensuring every item is inside, Cas makes his way to the checkout. He lines up right behind another boy about his age, who looks to be purchasing half the inventory of the entire grocery store. He has an awful lot of Kraft Dinner and cereal. And milk. At least four jugs of milk. He’s also sporting a very thoroughly casted leg… and painted crutches.

Castiel watches him throw a careless look over his shoulder before doing a double take. Cas stares. “You got enough honey there, buddy?” the boy asks obnoxiously, perfect brow raised in an arc.

Castiel shrugs. “Only if you have enough milk.”

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