Jan 12, 2025
Sam Winchester being a squeaky third wheel
I stand by my brother and his cancelled husband
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Sam Winchester being a squeaky third wheel
I stand by my brother and his cancelled husband
Ok I joke about destiel getting together right off the bat in s16 but honestly
Draw it out. Make it tense, make me think you aren't going to do it but at the same time amp up the pining 1000%.
Have moments where they get really intense with the eye contact, the lip looking, all the things unsaid are right on the surface ready to bubble over. They wanna address the elephant in the room SO damn bad but they're too busy and the stakes are too high and maybe Cas thinks Dean is rejecting him and they're both so mad about it all but they keep getting SO CLOSE to breaking that dam but what'd'ya know? Interrupting moose. I'm talking they almost kiss, breathing each other's air, 16 years of yearning buzzing between them. Burn me SLOWLY. Hurt me with it.
Then, and I can not stress this enough, give this God forsaken (literally) ship the explosive conclusion it absolutely deserves.
Chapter 5 (finally) for my Hot Summer Art challenge fic
Time to wrap up the case so they can get on with the vacation!
Tags, Rating, Word Count, AO3 link, etc. at the bottom
Beside Your Side
Fic Summary: Dean convinces Sam to look into a potential case where people are going missing from a New Jersey beach town. Of course, they have to bring Cas and Eileen along, just in case it's not a monster. Dean is excited to get the case over quickly and enjoy a well-earned vacation with the people he loves the most. Nothing ever seems to go the way Dean plans it though, and this case is no exception.
Chapter 5: Monsters in Unexpected Places
Dean
“No, no, no!” Dean hisses, shifting himself off Cas’ chest so he can reach the floor where he’s pretty sure he tossed his phone before falling into bed.
Dammit! Where did I put it? Dean flails his hand wildly, desperate to silence the incessant buzzing that’s threatening to ruin his perfect evening. His fingers finally close around his phone, his very dead phone. Shit, it must be coming from Cas’!
Dean shimmies back toward the middle of the bed, props himself up on his hand, and is just reaching across the sleeping angel’s body to silence the phone that's responsibly plugged in on the nightstand when blue eyes flash open and fixate on him. Dean freezes, face no more than a few inches away.
“Dean,” Cas’ murmurs happily, voice barely more than a rumble as his hand automatically finds the small of Dean’s back. The combination of the husky word, shining blue eyes, and the warm hand pressing into him send shockwaves through Dean’s body and blood racing toward his dick.
Dean is too shocked to even attempt to hide his arousal. Not that he could even if he tried since Cas tightens his grip on Dean’s back, closing the slight distance that had remained between their lower halves. Dean feels his erection press into Cas hip and barely manages to stifle a moan, his nerve endings sparking with long awaited pleasure. He opens his mouth to explain or apologize or beg but he's too transfixed by the way Cas’ lip part ever so slightly and his eyes go wide. He forgets about the ringing phone, the case, everything. His whole world condenses to searching blue eyes and the intense urge to lower his head and finally find out what Cas’ lips taste like.
“Cas?” The plea is more breath than sound and Dean darts his eyes up to meet Cas’. Cas doesn’t reply, just tilts his head slightly, his breath nearly as ragged as Dean’s, his eyes zeroed in on the way Dean licks his lips before trying again. “I- Can we-? Would you mind if I-?”
“Dean!”
The door to their room bursts open as Sam charges in. Dean tumbles backward toward “his” side of the bed and tries to pretend he wasn’t just about to kiss his best friend. The act would be easier to maintain if Cas’ hand hadn’t gotten trapped underneath him in his not-so-strategic retreat. It's his own fault that strong fingers are now cupped firmly against his ass cheek.
“You’ll never believe what we just found …”
Sam starts talking but Dean can’t focus on what he’s saying, too horrified by the obvious tent growing beneath the blankets. He quickly turns on his side, which is his second mistake. The movement causes Cas’ hand to slide across his ass and settle low on his hip, so close to his straining cock that Dean has a hard time remembering how to breathe. His heart beats arrhythmically and he stares at Sam without seeing him at all.
“It’s been the same with at least one of the other victims. Though this one was missing for over three weeks. And, just in case we weren’t sure that they were alive and trapped in sand, every time a missing person was found, their statue would vanish. So, whatever’s doing this, they’re not trying to kill. We should head down to the police station and try to talk with him. Maybe he’ll be able to tell us what it is that we’re up against,” Sam finishes excitedly, oblivious to the tension and electricity zinging between the men on the bed.
Sam looks at Dean expectantly, but Dean has not processed a single word his little brother has uttered. His mouth opens to say something, anything, as Sam’s gaze narrows and he starts looking a little more closely at Dean’s flushed face.
Thankfully, Cas’ phone begins buzzing again, saving them all from the embarrassment Sam’s scrutiny would surely bring.
“I should, um, I should get this,” Cas says, carefully pulling his arm free from beneath Dean to grab his phone and slide out of the bed and around Sam.
The emptiness feels wrong, and Dean has to tamp down the desperate need to grab Cas and pull him back down. However illogical it may be, his brain is screaming to wrap the angel in his arms and never get up from the bed again.
We weren’t fighting. Nothing was trying to kill us. We finally had peace together. Dean manages to bite back the petulant whine he wants to let out, barely. He wants to shout and curse, anything to verbalize his frustration at being so close to getting the thing he’s longed for, only for it to be pulled away. Again.
“Dean, are you sick?” Sam accuses leaning toward him, forcing Dean’s eyes away from Cas’ retreating form.
“Wha- What?” Dean squeaks, bunching more of the blankets around his groin, though, with the way he’s currently arranged, there’s no way Sam should be able to tell how inappropriately hard he is.
“Dude, your face is red, like you’ve got a fever. All that time in the cold and the rain, maybe you caught something. Do you feel okay?”
Hey, so it's my birthday tomorrow so I wrote myself a present. 🤗
In a world where everyone can do magic, the Winchesters and their best friend Castiel embark on a mission to rescue John when he goes missing researching the parable of the Sleeping Prince.
Along the way, Dean accidently finds a unique way to tell Cas how he feels, maybe invents religion and purposefully does not rewrite history.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I’m not okay, but please accept this Very Dumb and hastily-drawn comic as a token of my angst-filled appreciation of y’all on this, the day of our mutual destruction.
DEASTIEL FOREVER
-ko-fi?-
One of a Kind Part 8
[Part 8] Castiel has a way with Dean.
“Hey,” Dean hovered in the entryway of the library, “Take a break… I made stew.”
With that he was gone, and Sam breathed out a short laugh before rising to his feet.
“You heard the man,” he motioned for the others to follow. Dean had bowls set out on the table by the time they reached the kitchen, and each of them took a seat.
“I don’t eat,” Castiel whispered, leaning in toward Sam.
“Just try, okay?” Sam requested with humor in his eyes.
The Angel nodded simply before picking up his spoon and sinking it into the broth. He brought a generous spoonful to his mouth and managed to down it with little reaction. When he looked up, Dean’s eyes were glued to him from across the room.
“It’s very good,” Castiel remarked, holding his gaze an uncomfortably long time until Sam cleared his throat.
Dean whipped around to pour some into a bowl for himself, taking longer than was necessary before crossing to sit down as well.
Jack was practically shoveling the stew into his mouth which seemed to please Dean, and Sam too was rather quieter than usual.
“What is your Dean like?” Jack asked curiously.
Castiel shifted uncomfortably and his eyes darted toward Dean for the briefest of moments.
“Dean is… um… he is leading an entire community,” the Angel’s focus softened at the thought of his hunter, “We are doing everything we can to ensure their safety together… I miss him.”
The last part slipped out unintentionally and his stiffened posture made that fact more than obvious.
“Is there also a Sam?” Jack asked cautiously.
Dean coughed, “Um not much different than normal Sam really.”
“How do you know?” Jack’s head tilted like Cas.
“I um… I was there once… Long time ago,” Dean looked away.
“So you two already met before?” the nephilim seemed completely oblivious to the discomfort growing in the room.
“Yes,” Dean said at the same time Cas was saying the opposite.
“It’s complicated-“ Dean struggled, instinctively looking to Cas for assurance, but his gut wretched when he realized he was looking for a Cas that was not there.
“This Castiel is from a year earlier than when Dean met him so he doesn’t know Dean yet… Our Dean…” Sam attempted to assist.
“I think I understand,” Jack nodded slowly.
“Jack, it’s getting late…” Sam rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Let’s call it a night and pick back up on this tomorrow… I can even set up a movie for you on the laptop.”
“Really?” Jack jumped up to follow him out of the room, “Can I watch Spider-Man?”
Dean huffed out a laugh as their voices faded down the hall, and Cas’ eyes softened as he watched him.
“I like this you,” the words fell thoughtlessly from Cas’ lips.
“You said that last time we met,” Dean couldn’t help but grin.
“I did?” Castiel looked bemused, then after a thoughtful moment, “Dean, you asked about the relationship between me and my Dean, I’m curious…”
“You wanna know about me and Cas?” Dean took a long drink of his beer.
“Yes, I do…”
“Everyone saw it but me,” Dean doesn’t know why those are the words his brain chooses to start with, but he goes with it anyway, “He told me he loved me… just before…” he stood and paced a few steps away before turning back, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this…”
Castiel stood as well, crossing slowly toward him. Dean’s entire body stiffened as he neared and even more so as Castiel’s arms wrapped around him.
“I’m sorry, Dean,” the celestial spoke softly into his shoulder and felt the hunter melt into his arms, wrapping his own desperately around Castiel’s waist.
“Oh sorry,” Sam’s voice immediately cut into the safety of their moment and Dean pulled away violently.
Dean didn’t say a word, just brushed passed his brother in the doorway and stalked off toward his room, eyes red from tears he would deny ever existed.
“What happened?” Sam asked, grimacing at his own horrible timing.
“Nothing,” Castiel lied, sinking back into the seat he’d previously occupied.
Sam chuckled and decided to join him at the table.
“What’s funny?” The Angel asked with sincere interest.
“I’m starting to realize Dean just has that affect on Castiels… from any dimension,” Sam grinned at him, “Already with the awkward moments and secret feelings…”
“Ah…” Castiel’s lips tilted upward on one side, “Well… from what Dean says, I’m more of an alternate timeline of this world’s Castiel… not quite another Castiel altogether but what might have been of yours.”
“Oh,” a crease appeared between Sam’s brows, “Dean said this?”
“More or less, yes,” Castiel looked at him in confusion.
This just seemed to pull Sam further away from him until he excused himself and took off down the hall.
————————
@spuffy-destiel @destieliscanon5nov @imthedoctorlove @skylerkernaghan
[Part 9] Sam tries to reach out but Dean isn’t having any of that. Neither of the Winchester’s returned and Castiel sat with his own thoug
@katistry made this post and like I’m working on other things at the moment but could not get this outta my head so have this short thing for it I guess also the brain rot is strong tonight. I didn’t find a marriage date so I picked ‘73 since proposal and demon deal year.
💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
“Holy shit,” Dean whispers, hands stilling in their movements. The dishwater has stared to grow cold but there’s still suds floating on the surface. It’s an ordinary evening washing dishes except that it’s not. It’s not.
“What is it?” Cas asks from beside him, carefully drying a plate and setting it aside before turning to Dean fully. “Dean?”
Dean looks at him, lip wobbling. “I... mom and dad.” He says with a shrug, as if that were to simply explain it.
Cas inhales slowly, nodding. “What about your mother and father?” He prods carefully. He cannot recall how this day is special. There is no anniversary of wedding or death or birthday to be had. It’s just April 29th. It’s just Thursday. Just Thursday—
“They got married in ‘73.” His eyes look glassy. His gaze moving farther from Cas and he can’t help but to feel helpless. Dean is adrift and Cas doesn’t know why, except that Dean is trying to explain. And whether Dean wants to say or not, Cas waits patiently.
“They did,” Cas nods, “and... and six years later you were born. And shortly thereafter Sam was born.” He tries to see where Dean is going, where that glossy gaze has landed.
Dean returns, eyes focusing back on Cas. He’s here again. His eyes are green and brilliant even as they’re red tinted. “They were married for ten years, Cas.” His voice is a rasp across his tongue, a precious secret shared between the two of them.
Cas tilts his head thoughtfully. He knows the traditions of a thousand cultures surrounding ten year marriages. It’s something sacred. Ten years—a decade—is a milestone in the eyes of humans.
“That’s a long time,” Cas whispers carefully. “Not as long as they deserved but... every moment is a treasure.”
“Yeah, Cas,” Dean shakes his head, moving his soapy hands to the towel in Cas’ grip to dry his hands. “It’s—it’s a lot, but Cas,” there’s an emphasis there. Something Cas can’t read in his gaze. “We’ve known each other for twelve years, buddy.”
Eyes wide, Cas blinks for a moment. He supposes it has been a long time since they’ve known each other. Twelve years—over a decade—is a milestone in the eyes of humans. Even in the eyes of a celestial being such as Castiel, but perhaps that is because his existence had not been life until Dean Winchester.
“I suppose we have,” Cas says softly, unable to turn his attention away from Dean. “That’s a long time.”
Dean’s eyes are wide, his bottom lip shakes in the attempt to say something. Cas wishes he knew what. Dean seems to struggle for words, shakes his whole body in the hopes that something might spill from the jar of his heart. If only he knew the jar was made of glass and its contents could be seen. A heart on his sleeve. Cas just didn’t know how to read it.
“Dean?” Sam calls, entering the room with his nose buried in a book, and suddenly the bubble is shattered. The trembling and closeness is gone and Dean’s hands are buried in the soapy water again. “Do you know what I did with that History of Vaudvile book? Jody called and something she said reminded me of the first three chapters of it.”
“I don’t know,” Dean spoke gruffly, and Cas was wrong. His heart was not in a jar. It was in a house. And Dean lived with the windows open, the curtains pulled back, people able to look in. Except in moments like these where he pulled the shutters closed and there was nothing except chipping green paint reflecting back at Cas.
Cas inhales sharply, turning back to pluck another dish to dry. “On the war room table.” And Cas can’t help but think how twelve years is a long time.
Cas and Dean didn’t have an emotional reunion on screen because Sam would’ve died at that moment and interrupted them again.