By casblackfeathers | @casblackfeathers
Art by szlez | @szlez
Coming to Ao3 on 04-04-25
Rated Explicit | 11,500 words | No Archive Warnings Apply
From the very first moment Castiel lays his eyes on Dean, there's only one thought crossing his mind – ask Dean on a date. Maybe then he'll get the opportunity to find out more about the alluring young man who so easily sweeps him off his feet.
But between a one night stand that ends too abruptly, and Castiel being treated with a right hook the next time he tries to see Dean, things just aren’t going his way.
Maybe he will have better luck trying to make a new life for himself at his brother’s ranch... If only he could take his mind off of Dean.
[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]
As soon as his brother, Gabriel, had learned of Castiel losing his job, he had immediately started working on probing Castiel to move into the ranch with him. Truthfully, though, it hadn’t taken much convincing. It hadn’t been hard to leave his life behind. After all, it wasn’t like he had that much to hold on to.
Immediately after arriving at Rustic Haven Ranch, Gabriel had deemed it the perfect moment to throw a party in Castiel’s honor. So now here he was, feeling like an elephant in a room full of fragile, expensive dinnerware sets or something of the sort, all ready to shatter if Castiel moved the wrong way.
Sighing, Castiel turned to the finger foods table to skim his eyes over the choices available, settling for a carbonara mini quiche.
“Heya, cowboy,” came the rural Midwestern drawl, startling Castiel from his pitiful reverie.
Spinning on his heels, Castiel found himself face to face with the most mesmerizing human specimen Castiel had ever laid his eyes upon.
The man was young, younger than him. He had a cocky, lopsided grin that gave him a boyish appearance. It was rough around the edges, but still incredibly charming. Beautiful was the right word, Castiel thought — the man wasn’t dressed like most of the guests at the party, setting aside the cowboy hats and western attire in favor of a beige plaid shirt open over a solid black t-shirt, faded bootcut jeans, and logger style boots. His light-brown hair was styled in a slightly spiked hairdo. He had a straight nose, high cheekbones, and adorable freckles dotting his skin. But what Castiel found the most stunning were his eyes, and how they sparkled every time he caught a glimpse of the artificial light.
“H—hello,” Castiel stuttered after he had spent much longer than socially acceptable staring at the man before him.
“I'm Dean,” he said, his smile growing wider, probably realizing the peculiar effect he was having over Castiel.
Clearing his throat and feeling his cheeks heating up at how embarrassingly obvious he was reacting to this stranger, Castiel forced himself to glance away as he said, “Hello, Dean. But I'm not really a cowboy.”
It's hard enough to run a ranch with your brothers without any distraction. But Dean Winchester's life is not that easy. There is a will that makes some ruckus and there is a handsome gold miner by the creek too. If you would like to know more how poor Dean deals with these circumstances you should read Claim On My Heart by Uber_Kitty.
You can read it here.
@uberkitty
@dcwildwestfest
My favourite part of the art was drawing the map, I had such a calm, zen experience with it. Hope you like it too! ;)
By blackhorsedances | @blackhorsedances
Art by witchyworm | @witchy-worm
Coming to AO3 on 04-15-25
Rated Explicit | 21,800 words | No Archive Warnings Apply
Dean Winchester is a top-notch horse trainer. He’s worked on the family horse ranch since he was big enough to sit a horse. The people around town smile fondly at his “little ways” like eating the same breakfast at Missouri’s diner, only paying cash, having his ride-or-die bestie Charlie do his books and pay the bills. Oh, and he doesn’t answer text messages: “Just call me, dammit.” Sam criticizes him, but he just shrugs and says “if it ain’t broke, don’t break it.”
Cas Novak has a Ph.D. in Speech/Language Pathology, and has spent nine months of his sabbatical year writing his “publish or perish” book. Still reeling from a nasty divorce that raked up his shameful past, Cas is looking for a peaceful, quiet place to edit and revise his book, and maybe heal old wounds. A student from one of his online seminars, Eileen Leahy-Winchester, offers her brother-in-law Dean’s cabin, because it’s a “really peaceful place, Cas.”
As Dean and Cas grow closer, Cas begins to suspect that Dean’s “little ways” may be hiding a painful secret. In turn, Dean suspects that the professor may have a big secret of his own. When a dangerous storm threatens Dean’s most cherished horse, his secret is exposed. But can Cas overcome his own shame to help Dean, and will Dean let him?
[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he interrupts glibly, “I heard my name.” In his best ‘coping at a faculty gathering’ manner, he bypasses the much taller (and glowering) Sam Winchester, and approaches the person that must be Sam’s brother Dean. Dean Winchester, the gorgeous man that stopped his breath and tugged at his heart (and other parts of him). Damnit. He wills himself to be professional.
“Hello, Dean. You are Dean Winchester, aren’t you?” He waits for Dean’s nod, and continues. “I’m Dr. Castiel Novak, but I’d be honored if you’d call me Cas. I really appreciate you leasing the cabin to me for the summer. I think it’s amazing that you’ve gone out of your way to make every possible accommodation a person might need.”
He holds out his hand and Dean takes it. “Yeah, okay, hiya Cas. It’s, uh, nice to meet ya. Sorry about assuming–”
“You don’t need to apologize to me. I appreciate your efforts, I promise. Although a horse named Link? Is that like Link from Zelda, or is it like the Missing Link?” Cas dissembles, not only because Dean’s face is still flushed, but also because the feel of Dean’s hand clasped with his has restarted the fire in his lower belly. He’s not sure that his own face isn’t as flushed as Dean’s.
“Oh, heh, neither.” Dean chuckles, but his eyes are locked on Cas’. “I got the horse from a rescue. He’d been used to pull this old guy’s car–something like a 1970 Lincoln Continental, if I remember right–around until the guy died, I guess. So they just called him Link.” Cas sees a twinkle in Dean’s eye, and there’s that tongue peeking through those plush lips. Oh, no. Is Dean Winchester flirting with him?
“You’re lying to me right now, Dean Winchester.” And I’m playing with fire, Cas thinks, because I’m flirting right back.
“No,” Dean says, “Yes, but no. I do have a horse named Link–”
By seidenapfel | @seidenapfel
Art by medicatedmaniac | @medicatedmaniac
Coming to Ao3 on 04-19-25
Rated Explicit | 12,000 words | Graphic Depictions of Violence
Freedom is a length of rope and God wants you to hang yourself with it. Well, unless others do it for you.
[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]
As the bucket beneath Dean’s feet is kicked away and the noose tightens around his neck, it's over.
Or it should be.
While Dean fights for his death, a shot sounds, and a mysterious stranger grips him tight and saves him from certain death.
Blowing out the lights that kept him going.
An eternity of fathomless torment.
Endless. Infinite. Vast.
Until it wasn’t anymore.
Until it stopped.
Dean soared as his weight was lifted from him.
Two hands gripped him tight, carrying his earthly form for him. Allowing him to rest.
Allowing him to let go.
A being of light was staring at him. Guiding him.
The pain remained, but it was over.
When his feet touched the ground, wood splintered and another shot cut through the night. Dean crashed to the ground, hitting it hard, and everything went dark.
He groaned as he slowly came back to himself. Something pricked his back, but that was only a slight discomfort compared to the rest of his body. Shouldn’t Heaven be more comfortable than this?
Dean coughed, and nearly fainted again.
Only Hell could be worse. But he had been there, hadn’t he?
He had already gone through it, and landed here. Wherever *here* was.
It could still be Hell, though, or maybe Purgatory. Everything was hurting. He was trapped in a nightmare, unable to move without unspeakable agony shooting through his body.
His lids felt like they weighed tons and tons. Yet, if he wanted to wake, he just needed to open his eyes—
He couldn’t. They were already open, staring into endless darkness.
Son of a bitch! He was so fucked. He was…
What?
Dying? Dead? A ghost, haunting the Earth till the end of time?
Whatever he was, he was alone. In the desert. Unable to even lift his arm, or his little finger.
Each breath was agony, but there was air filling his lungs. Slowly but steadily, his mind cleared.
Dean tensed as a branch snapped behind him. Clouds of smoke drifted through the air. He heard a fire sizzling. The rustling of a coat.
Alarmed, he sat up. Tears filled his eyes as a sharp pang shot through his shoulder and a pop sounded through the night. A piercing cry escaped his lips, only increasing his agony.
His panic was back in full force. Even without the noose around his neck, breathing became impossible while the steps approached, closer and closer. Coming to take him.
By casblackfeathers | @casblackfeathers
Art by witchy-worm | @witchy-worm
Coming to Ao3 on 04-23-25
Rated Explicit | 19,000 words | No Archive Warnings Apply
Dean’s life has always been led by crime. Starting with the day that took his mother away from them to the time his brother was killed when Dean was just a teenager.
Lost and grieving, Dean had been sent away to Homestead Eden Ranch by his father. But the same gruesome path that brought him to the ranch also ended up ripping him apart from the best summer of his life and the only love he had ever known.
Now, nine years later, and after almost being offed by people he shouldn’t have messed with, Dean finds himself fleeing to the same place that had brought him solace when he was a teenager… and to the only person his wild heart never forgot.
[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]
How could he just say hi after all this time of absence? How could he just come back and announce his presence after everything he had gone through since the last time he had been here? James Novak had been like a father to him during the summer Dean had spent here. Had treated him kindly and patiently, seeing Dean’s outbursts of rage for what they were — a cry for help; one last ditch effort from a lost, scared boy who didn’t have anyone else to look up to. That summer had been the happiest in Dean’s life, and he might be losing his mind right now, but he hoped that counted for something.
James would take him once again. He would help Dean just like he had back then. So Dean forced himself to get the fuck up and made his way up the three steps of stairs, holding most of his weight against the railing, before standing in front of the door. He could not stop shivering, but he feared this time it had nothing to do with the rain or the blood still oozing steadily beneath the makeshift bandage.
Willing his legs not to buckle beneath him, Dean raised one hand and knocked, gulping the nervousness and despair filling the back of his throat with bile as he waited for another small miracle to happen.
Only it wasn’t James Novak who answered the door; instead, a much warmer set of blues met him when the door finally swung open. The same shade Dean had been missing for all these years, the same expression, the same tousled hair. The same lips Dean had once savored and no matter what life threw at him, Dean had held onto the sweet memory of that kiss.
“C—Cas...” he croaked.
“Dean?” came the gravelly voice, tone low and tinged with disbelief. Dean ached to smile, to express how it felt like his long-dormant heart was beating for the first time in years. But darkness was taking over at last, and before he knew it, it had pulled him under, and he passed out.
By saudade | @entropic-saudade
Art by onowey | @onowey
Coming to Ao3 on 04-17-25
Rated Mature | 10,000 words | No Archive Warnings Apply
While everyone else eagerly ate up the land looking westward, Dean had a hard time envisioning much of anything for himself on the horizon. Dad was dead. Sam had left for the stability of Californian settlements. Loneliness was Dean’s steadiest partner now as he carried on the torch of the family business.
That is, until a simple ghost hunt in the railway town of Ashland, Oregon turns into a tangle with a god, leaving Dean thinking he should’ve been looking skyward instead.
‘Cause sometimes, the sky looks back–and it wants.
[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]
The weight of the last few days weighed more heavily on Dean than expected. He’d meant to stay up and stand guard, but the freshly caught hare in his stomach, and the warmth and crackle of the fire lured him to sleep.
He dreamt.
A man he’d seen on a train platform once with his wife and daughter, down in Illinois plains, stood a few feet ahead of him. Dean was back there, watching the coach cars with envy as he prepared to hop the boxcars once again and move on to the next hunt. This hunt hadn’t brought much prosperity: instead, he was graced with a bruised body, an empty stomach, and an aching heart. He watched the family, and the man’s handsome face, yearning for just an ounce of connection.
Yet when the man looked up, it wasn’t with the piercing blue eyes he’d held in his memories—it was with the effervescent glow of Castiel’s eyes.
Dean jolted awake, freezing when those same eyes glowed directly above him, closer and more massive than they had ever been. He held his breath, unbidden tears streaming down his face as he stared into their bright glory, standing stark against the drapery of night.
He held his breath until his lungs burned, until the eyes finally faded from his vision, leaving only the afterimage burned on his retinas as proof they were ever there. He gasped, sitting up and taking a swig from his flask.
It appeared as though Garth’s theory was right—Castiel was interested in him.
By Mydestielbabies | @spnisthewayoflife
Art by szlez | @szlez
Coming to Ao3 on 04-09-25
Rated Explicit | 28,000 words | No Archive Warnings Apply
Cowboy Dean Winchester never stayed in one place for too long, often moving from town to town without much thought. But when he gets a letter from his brother, Sam—now the town’s sheriff—asking for help, Dean finds himself riding back into a place he had long ago stopped calling home.
What Sam didn’t mention in his letter was the name of the man terrorizing Redemption: Cain Adamson, a ruthless outlaw with blood on his hands and no intention of giving up control with a personal history with the Winchesters. The town is too scared to fight back, and Sam’s fighting a losing battle trying to uphold the law.
With the help of Castiel Novak, the new preacher in Redemption, his brother, and the town of Redemption Dean must decide if he’s willing to risk everything to take Cain down. The odds aren’t in his favor, but family is family—and if Redemption is going to have any chance at living up to its name, Dean Winchester might just have to be the one to deliver justice the only way he knows how, and has him thinking that maybe, just maybe, there could be a reason for him to stay.
[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]
The sun hung low over the endless plains, casting a golden haze across the town of Redemption. Dust kicked up in lazy swirls, drifting between weathered wooden buildings that withered with the weight of time. A church bell, cracked but still defiant, tolled faintly in the wind. The sound echoed across the desolate streets where life moved at a crawl and the daily plight of survival pressed heavily on everyone’s shoulders.
Dean Winchester rode into town on a battered chestnut horse, the brim of his hat tilted low to shield his eyes from the sun’s glare. His duster was stained with the grit of a dozen trails, and his boots had seen better years. Redemption looked smaller than he remembered—more tired.
