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devilmns · 3 months

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DEVIL'S TRAP Supernatural, 1.22

#spn #spnedit #supernatural #supernaturaledit #cowboycoven #becauseofthebowties #useralison #alivedean #userzaddy #castiellesbian #deanncastiel #jord.gif #flashing #blood

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gaytedlasso · 1 year

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If you are the sun, then I wanna be the moon

I wanna reflect the light that shines from you.

~

Happy November 5th !

original poem

#this took me HOURS jfc I was upset until 5am finishing it #OH MY GOD HOW AM I STILL THIS INSANE ABOUT DESTIEL 2 YEARS LATER #time for year 3 #sketch.art #November 5th #Nov 5th #the confession #confession scene #destiel #spn 15x18 #destiel art #spn poetry #deancas #spn fanart #spn despair #seraphcastiel #becauseofthebowties #castiellesbian

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lamiasage · 11 months

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a little style experiment part 2 :)

[my patreon]

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mjulmjul · 2 years

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tourist

#artists on tumblr #digital art #tagging as some fandom stuff but i wont mind if you treat it as original art lmao #castiel #spn #supernatural #gif #it M*RDERED the colors when I exported it as gif so sad #castiellesbian #userkels

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pointyearedelvishprincling · 2 months

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Live Laugh Leather

happy 3rd wedding anniversary to these idiots :)

(846 words) Also on AO3

Dean knew the rhythm of Cas’ footsteps from the kitchen all the way to their bedroom. Knew it better than the pulse of his own heart; as familiar to him as the scent of the warm coffee that carried with his husband every morning like clockwork. He found himself smiling against his pillow, feeling the early sunshine through the lake house window heat the frosty February air.

So the routine goes; any minute now Cas would pause to bump the door open with his pajama-clad butt, scooting backward into their bedroom, two coffees in hand. Dean would fake the grouchy attitude as if the gentle interruption had pulled him from sleep. As if, minutes earlier, Cas hadn’t waited until his spidey senses told him Dean’s REM sleep was done and he was ready for his daily stubbled kiss at the back of his neck. For the arm that tightened around his waist, sinking suggestively lower until Dean cracked open an eyelid. Falling for the same old trick every day, before Cas would rise his heavenly ass out of bed to start on coffee. Leaving Dean tethered between the land of sleep and this world of dreams.

Same old, same old.

And wasn’t that a hell of a thing.

Dean scooched over to Cas’ side of the bed. The warmth had faded but it was the scent he chased; like rich earth pounded by the heavy rain of a thunderstorm, the charged promise of lightning still to come. Like honey and ether and so like home, Dean could drown himself in it. Smother himself in his husband’s pillow with a smile on his face and a bulge in his pants.

And so, it began.

The gentle clink of the spoon dropped into the sink. The ceramic scuffling on the kitchen countertop. The first bare footstep on the warm wooden floor.

Three years of this, Dean thought, and he knew he could go a thousand more.

A squeaking sound broke the routine, and Dean perked up his bedhead to listen to the audible eye roll and soft sigh that accompanied it. The footsteps and squeaking drew nearer, and Dean propped himself up on an arm to watch the regularly scheduled show.

The ass that greeted him was familiar, but Dean’s eyes bulged out of his head like Donald Duck at the first sight of Daisy. Cas backed into the room, letting the door swing softly shut behind him.

Dean’s husband paused, breakfast tray in hand and a look of genuine surprise on his face that quickly morphed into a feigned innocence.

“Sweetheart,” Dean managed to say with a tongue that now weighed an ACME ton. “Are you wearing leather pants?” He was dreaming, right? Had to be. If the next words out of Cas' mouth were "tell me about it, stud" in Olivia Newton-John's voice that would surely confirm it. A laugh threatened to burst all the way from his belly, born of shock more than anything, because this was Cas. His Cas. In tight leather pants. Like he was Jon Bon fucking Jovi and Dean was eighteen, alone in his motel room and realising some shit.

But Cas ignored the question, setting the breakfast tray safely on the bedside table. When he turned to find Dean’s gaze still locked on his broad thighs, mouth hanging open like it didn’t know where to start, he placed his hands on his hips.

“The third wedding anniversary gift is leather, is it not?”

Dean glanced up from his stupor, feeling his heart swell like a damn balloon at his husband’s words.

Leather. Anniversary. Right.

How Cas heard "leather" and thought "pants"... actually, he didn't need to know how or why, because this was happening. Somehow this was real life.

Dean licked his lips. Didn’t mean to, but he did.

He’d tell Cas about the new leather couch he’d secretly set up in the Cas Cave later. Right now…

“The salesperson insisted this was the perfect gift,” Cas frowned down at himself. “Perhaps this was a mistake.”

“Whuaa-“ Dean started, tangling in the sheets as he struggled to sit upright. “No, no, they’re – hell of a – gotta tip the guy… god, Cas.” Only the need to defend these pants with his life gave Dean the strength to tear his gaze from them a second time.

He’d expected to find that frown he loved so much – the one that crinkled Cas’ brow, and tugged his soft lips into a flat line. Instead, his husband grinned at him, eyes blazing with that smugness that was the bane of Dean’s life.

Son of a bitch. He played him.

“Happy anniversary, Dean,” Cas said, stepping forward to crawl on his knees across the mattress, caging Dean in between his thighs.

Dean pulled him closer, sunlight glinting on the band of his wedding ring as he ran a hand through Cas’ hair. Three years of this. Already three. Only three.

And he could never have enough.

“Happy anniversary, Cas.” The words were a whisper against his husband’s lips.

The rest, he already knew. They both did.

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spncentral · 1 year

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HELL HOUSE Supernatural, 1.17

#usersully #userzaddy #fieryfrankie #usersila #seraphcastiel #becauseofthebowties #castiellesbian #emeraldcas #tusercharlie #rambleoncas #greatcometcas #deanncastiel #cowboycoven #by jo #*#gif #season 1 #gen

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samsrowena · 2 years

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↳ dean + @michaelsworddean's greatest hits

#i just think mel has the best deanposting captions #anyway just wanted to make something for your return so welcome back bestie ILY #spn #spnedit #dean winchester #deanedit #becauseofthebowties #klinejack #spxcekya #greatcometcas #userda #chapeldean #bebecas #feathersforcas #user4x01 #angelscas #deanncastiel #castiellesbian #altarofedits

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hallowed-by-thy-name · 2 years

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some angsty dean imagery for @fellshish 's 30k dean (24k let's gooooooo!!)

click for that high res

#dean winchester #spn #spn fanart #castiellesbian #useremmaj #usertabitha #tuserpris #becauseofthebowties #justcastiel #i did a thing #and it's been a while!!!! thank you for letting me take part in this #i swear it's been like 827364 years since I've drawn #and fellshish good sir(gn) sorry about the delay!! i had Internet Problems^tm #but it's all good now #anyway only 6k to go!!!!!#truly lineart be fucking around when you try mixed media ;..(

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devilmns · 8 months

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DEAD MAN'S BLOOD Supernatural, 1.20

#spn #supernaturaledit #supernatural #spnedit #cowboycoven #deanncastiel #useralison #userzaddy #alivedean #castiellesbian #greatcometcas #jord.gif #swagless.

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gaytedlasso · 1 year

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A portal from the Empty opens up, as Dean emerges with Cas half-conscious and leaning on his shoulder. Unable to bear another step, Cas crumbles to the floor, bringing Dean down on top of him. The portal closes with a crash, and a silence settles in the room.

Cas' chest heaves below him, but Dean can't even take a breath. Cas. Cas is- he's here. He may be covered in Empty goo but he's here. Cas is home. His eyes flutter open and Dean slowly pulls them both up to a sitting position. Cas looks up in exhausted disbelief. Dean's gonna say it. He has to say it. He has to say the words that have been inflating in his ribs and threatening to burst.

"You stupid son of a bitch. Of course I love you." And before he can lose his nerve, Dean grabs Cas by the face and kisses him so hard he's sure that he'll taste blood any second.

Dean pulls away from Cas and finally takes the breath he's been struggling to inhale this whole time - instantly leaving his lungs the moment he opens his eyes to see Cas' face.

Cas looks stunned, maybe horrified. His face goes through the entire spectrum of emotions so quickly that it makes it all indecipherable. Tears in his eyes are so close to falling Dean isn't sure how they're still holding on. His mouth hangs open but not a single word comes out. Oh no. He doesn't want this. He regrets it. He sh--

Any thoughts of doubt were squashed immediately as Cas grips Dean by the shoulders and kisses him like his life depends on it.

It may be their second kiss, but it feels like their first. It's warm and soft and tender. Dean simulationeously relaxes and feels every inch of his body light up as Cas moves his hand to rest in his hair, empty goo be damned.

If he's honest, it feels like love.

~

Finale, what finale?

I only know the post Empty rescue makeout scene

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lamiasage · 2 years

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Suptober Day 22 - Rain, Rain

it's raining tears :,)

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mjulmjul · 2 years

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happy pride!!

#pride #artists on tumblr #digital art #lgbt #it’s like a matching one to the rainbow angel from last year :’)#supernatural #spn #castiel #yes you can also just read it as non fanart lol #altarof1k #castiellesbian #usertox #userkels #userda

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billiewena · 2 years

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in my secret good supernatural, castiel and rowena are besties who have brunch in hell every sunday

happy birthday @castiellesbian! (youtube)

#this prompt spoke me to me #castiellesbianbirthday #castiellesbian #ntjdvids #ntjdmakesthings #spnamvarchive #spn #castiel #rowena #rowena macleod #bestiesnatural #okay now to add captions to my dean and cassie video wish me luck

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spncentral · 2 years

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SCARECROW Supernatural, 1.11

#usersully #userzaddy #fieryfrankie #usersila #seraphcastiel #castiellesbian #emeraldcas #tusercharlie #rambleoncas #greatcometcas #donestiel #uhuraha #userkels #cowboycoven #by jo #*#gif #gen #season 1

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samsrowena · 2 years

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↳ samwena + text posts

#spn #spnedit #samwena #sam winchester #rowena macleod #becauseofthebowties #klinejack #spxcekya #greatcometcas #userda #chapeldean #bebecas #feathersforcas #user4x01 #angelscas #deanncastiel #castiellesbian #altarofedits

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myaimistrue · 2 years

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holding close to my unsteady heart.

The apocalypse is drawing nearer and nearer. Everything hangs in the balance. And in Room 312 of the Harmony Hills Motel, an angel appears in Dean Winchester's bedroom. read under the cut or on ao3 here

Castiel is aware of how late it is. Dean has asked him before not to show up like this, not to just appear in the middle of the night with no warning. He wanted to wait—he tried to wait. But Castiel is weak, and every day, he grows weaker.

At his arrival, the sudden displacement of air, Dean stirs in bed. He’s the only one in the motel room tonight; Sam is at a woman’s apartment, sharing an encounter Castiel didn’t want to spend too long looking at. Dean and Castiel are alone in this place, Room 312 in Harmony Hills Motel, together.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice is rasping, low in the darkness. “That you?”

“Yeah,” Castiel says. “It’s me.”

“What’s wrong?” Dean sits up all the way, already sounding more alert. Through the dark, Castiel sees him reach for the knife under his pillow.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

Dean groans. “Then what the hell are you doing here? It’s, like, three in the morning.”

“I…” Castiel looks at Dean’s form in the bed, the blankets pooling around his waist. His soul is soft in a way Castiel has only seen it in very specific moments: moments of calm and safety, of contentment. “I apologize. I shouldn’t—I don’t know why I came.”

“Woah, hey.” Dean’s voice reaches out at the same time his soul does. They both curl around Castiel, imploring and gentle. “Whatever’s wrong, it’s fine. Just—c’mere. Tell me what’s going on.”

There was a time when Castiel would have been strong enough to refuse the request of a human. But that time is long past, and this isn’t just any human—this is Dean. So he goes, against his better judgment, and sits down gingerly on the edge of the bed.

“Hello, Dean,” he says.

Dean smiles, but it’s the smile he puts on when he’s worried about someone. “Hey, man.”

Castiel looks down at the bedspread. The pattern is floral, and he traces each flower with a fingertip, recalling their scientific names as he looks at them. Centaurea cyanus, Myosotis sylvatica, Gypsophila elegans—

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong with you?” Dean nudges Castiel’s thigh with a socked foot. He’s out from under the blankets now, sitting perpendicular to Castiel, and he bends his head in an attempt to catch Castiel’s eye. “C’mon, what’s up?”

“I’m…” Castiel speaks slowly. It’s been a long time since human language felt foreign to him, but this is difficult to translate. Difficult to say. “Are you… are you scared, Dean?”

“Me?” Dean laughs, the sound tumbling out of him in surprise. “Uh, why?”

“Are you?”

Dean searches Castiel’s face, and Castiel tries his best not to look away again, tries to bear the weight of the Righteous Man’s gaze. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m scared. All the fucking time.” Dean’s eyes glitter in the white light of the parking lot outside. “Are you scared?”

“I—” His voice falters; that’s never happened to him before. Castiel takes a long breath. Feels Dean’s soul, glowing warmly within him. “I can’t—I’ve never felt this way. Afraid, like this.”

“About the apocalypse?”

“About everything. All of it,” Cas says, voice beginning to shake. “I’m afraid for your safety, and Sam’s, and I’m afraid about losing my powers and leaving you without my help, and I’m afraid of what will happen if we fail, and I’m—”

“Woah, Cas, hey,” Dean cuts in. He reaches out and takes hold of Cas’s wrist where he’s still tracing the bedspread, Centaurea cyanus, Myosotis sylvatica, Gypsophila elegans. “It’s okay.”

“But it’s not.” Cas thinks there is another name for this feeling: despair. Hopeless, terrible despair. “I can’t save us. I can’t keep you safe. And I’m terrified.”

Dean looks at him for a long moment, his thumb feathering back and forth across the softest pulse point on Castiel’s wrist. And then, carefully, slowly, he gets down on his knees in front of him.

Castiel watches with hungry, disbelieving eyes. Dean slips off Castiel’s shoes, peels off black socks to reveal pale skin Castiel has never seen before. Then, he reaches up, hands hovering over the crotch of the pants Jimmy picked out one morning a million years ago. There’s a question in Dean’s eyes; Castiel nods, and Dean unbuttons and unzips and then slides the pants down Castiel’s legs. He squeezes Castiel’s knees with warm hands.

“Stand up.”

So Castiel stands. He’s the weakest he’s ever been, and despite that, he knows he could overpower Dean without much effort. But he allows Dean this, allows him to remove the coat and the tie, allows him to unbutton the shirt and reveal the white tank top beneath. He allows Dean’s hands to skim up his sides, raising goosebumps that feel like the thrum of grace through a vessel.

“Let’s lay down,” Dean’s voice is so soft, so quiet. Castiel wants to curl up in it.

Castiel doesn’t think he’s ever laid in a bed before. The mattress creaks as they settle side by side, and it appears to dip in the middle, forcing them closer. The sheets scratch against his skin. The floral bedspread is thinner than he expected. And Dean’s face and Dean’s soul and Dean’s skin is here in front of him.

“I know you don’t sleep,” Dean says, leaving it unsaid that Castiel might soon require it if he continues to lose his powers, “but sometimes it’s nice to lay with somebody you, uh. You care about. Sometimes it makes you feel better about things when they’re shitty.” Dean grins wryly. “And they’re pretty shitty right now.”

“They are,” Castiel agrees. “Thank you. For sharing this with me.”

Dean turns pink, right at the top of his cheeks. Castiel watches with fascination. “You’re welcome,” he says awkwardly.

And something about that, the color, the closeness, makes Castiel terribly honest. “I love you.”

Dean doesn’t seem surprised, not really, but his soul is flaring a bright, brilliant gold, something like fear and adoration and hope. “Cas, you don’t—”

“I know what I’m saying.”

“I…” Dean lets out a breath like he’s been punched, and Castiel doesn’t miss the sudden shimmering tears in his eyes. “Cas, this is really bad timing, man. It’s—the world is ending.”

Castiel reaches out and touches the warm pinkness of Dean’s face; his thumb traces the path of a tear, and Dean leans into it. “I know.”

“I—fuck.” Dean chokes out. “Cas, what are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel whispers. The edge of terror is close, still, but Dean is with him. They’re together. “I don’t know.”

There’s nothing more to say. Dean eventually reaches out and pulls Castiel flush with his body, tucks Castiel under his chin, runs calloused, gentle hands up and down Castiel’s back. Presses a kiss to the top of Castiel’s head.

And against the skin of Dean’s neck, the smell of motel soap and deodorant and human sweat, Castiel prays. His Father isn’t listening anymore, but maybe someone will hear it. Maybe someone will hear it, and answer. Castiel prays for safety, for victory, for love. He prays until the dawn light creeps up in the sky, turning the room into grey shadow. Then, he watches Dean breathe. That’s something to be grateful for: Dean, beside him, breathing and warm.

Some prayers are answered. The day is new. And Dean is holding him like something precious. That’s enough, Castiel thinks.

#hope you like it!!!!#deancas #destiel #dean #cas #del's writing #spn fic #supernatural fanfiction #caskarass #userkels #castiellesbian #offbeattraxx #userpiss

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